The purple light curtain rippled like water waves.
Roya stepped out of the obsidian portal, and a wave of heat hit him in the face.
Titus, Kahn, and three Lamenters veterans wearing off-white Terminators armor followed closely behind.
The five Space Marines leveled their Bolters, sweeping their muzzles around, and then they all froze in place.
There were no demons, no whispers of the Warp, and no Chaos corruption contaminating their souls.
What met their eyes was a massive underground world composed entirely of cubes.
The ceiling was made of dark red cubic rock layers, and beneath their feet was an equally red cubic ground.
A few dozen meters ahead, a boiling lava lake stretched to the end of their vision.
The lava lacked fluid curves, instead presenting an absolutely straight, stair-step shape, cascading down layer by layer.
Fine red ashes drifted through the air.
“By the Emperor…” Titus lowered his muzzle, gazing through his optics at a suspended piece of red rock beneath his feet, “This completely defies the laws of gravity.” Kahn lifted his foot and stamped heavily on the ground.
The dark red Netherrack emitted a dull echo, proving extremely hard.
“Put away your weapons and switch to the iron pickaxe.” Roya stood in front, switching out an iron pickaxe from his inventory, “There are no Greater Daemons of Chaos here, only materials.
Our target is that ore with white stripes.” He pointed at a rock wall at the edge of the lava lake.
Several pieces of Nether quartz ore were embedded there.
The five Space Marines wasted no words, hooking their Bolters back onto their tactical mounts.
With a few “clacks,” five square iron pickaxes fell into their hands.
The massive Terminators armor took heavy strides toward the rock wall.
“Bang!” Kahn swung his iron pickaxe down.
Black grid cracks appeared and spread across the surface of the quartz ore.
With a crisp “pop,” the cube shattered, and several pieces of [Nether Quartz] emitting pure white light dropped to the ground.
Kahn picked them up.
Under system binding, the items were automatically collected into his hidden grid.
“My Lord, there is a gold vein over there.” A Lamenters veteran pointed upward.
“Mine it along the way.” Roya’s gaze swept across the blocks beneath his feet, noticing that scattered at the edge of the lava lake were several blocks that appeared dark brown with twisted human face textures on the surface.
He walked over, swung his iron pickaxe, and mined a block of [Soul Sand].
Kahn walked over, looking at the brown sandy soil, his brows slightly furrowed: “My Lord, there is a faint psychic fluctuation in this soil, as if something is sealed inside.” Roya pulled out a flint and steel from his inventory and struck it against the surface of the Soul Sand.
“Whoosh!” A ball of flame rose up, casting a pure bright light.
“This fire will never go out.” Roya pointed at the burning Soul Sand, “Take this sand back.
When the Astra Militarum’s laser gun magazines are empty, throw them directly into this fire, and they will be fully charged in no time.
With this thing, you won’t even need to build charging stations.” Kahn turned his head sharply, staring at the ball of flame, his breathing instantly turning heavy.
Laser rifles were the absolute mainstay weapon of the Astra Militarum, but in protracted wars, logistics recharging was always the biggest pain point.
Now, just with a piece of dirt and a fire, infinite frontline endurance could be achieved?
“Mine!
Mine all of these!” Kahn directly gave the order, swinging his iron pickaxe down at the Soul Sand on the ground.
The five sets of power armor turned into the most efficient mining machines.
The sound of iron pickaxes striking echoed through the vast Nether.
Quartz, gold nuggets, and Soul Sand continuously flowed into the inventory.
From the distant dark red fog, an extremely sharp, weird sound resembling a baby crying came through.
A white jellyfish-like creature with a huge square head emerged in mid-air, its pale tentacles fluttering in the wind.
Titus raised his Bolter: “My Lord, there is a hostile target.” “Ignore the Ghast.” Roya looked at the stacks of Nether quartz already gathered in his inventory, “Today we only came to build a Dreadnought.
We’ll explore this place slowly later, fall back.” The six of them turned around and walked toward the portal.
Passing through the purple light curtain, the sensation of weightlessness was swept away.
At the temporary position in the waste liquid treatment area, Ilia gripped her crusade sword, staring intently at the portal.
When she saw Roya leading the Space Marines stepping safely out of the light curtain, her tense spine instantly relaxed, and she let out a long breath.
Calculis strode forward.
The Chief Librarian’s eyes flashed with deep blue psychic energy, sweeping over the six returning individuals.
“No Warp aura, no signs of corruption.” Calculis nodded in confirmation to Chapter Master Foros, “Their souls are extremely pure.” In a clearing not far away, Magos Hades was still slumped on the ground.
His auxiliary mechanical arms hung down, and his red robes were stained with oil.
Capetown-3 stood beside him, talking incessantly, and one could vaguely hear words like Lord Roya being the incarnation of the Machine God.
Roya strode toward the workbench.
“Magos, look!” Capetown-3 dropped his wooden bowl, pulled Hades up, “The incarnate manifestation of the Machine God is about to show a miracle.” Hades’s mechanical neck turned stiffly, his optical sensors focusing on Roya.
He had crashed for a while just now, and at this moment his core processor was still filled with doubt.
Roya stood before the workbench, his mind connecting with his inventory.
Cobblestone, redstone dust, and Nether quartz were thrown into the 3×3 grid.
“Click.” Two square stones with red dots at the bottom took form.
These were [Observers].
The blueprint materials were all complete.
Four iron blocks, six obsidians, five iron ingots, two observers, two redstone blocks, four pistons, two dispensers, and two iron nuggets.
Guided by the phantom of the blueprint, the materials automatically fell into place to fill the grid.
Roya’s finger clicked the craft button.
“Click.” An extremely dull, heavy mechanical locking sound exploded above the workbench.
A mecha model radiating a dark golden luster fell into Roya’s hand.
Holding the model, he took two steps forward and tossed it casually toward the metal open space ahead.
“Boom!” With a loud crash, the metal floor suddenly sank, bursting out a ring of shockwaves.
The dust filling the sky dispersed.
A behemoth standing 4.5 meters tall, coated entirely in dark gray paint, stood quietly in the center of the position.
Its body was extremely broad, and the surface of its streamlined ceramite armor lacked any spliced weld seams, presenting a perfect integral forging craft.
Its left arm mounted twin heavy Bolters, and its right arm was a ferocious Dreadnought close combat power claw.
Behind the shoulder guards swelled huge reactor cooling grilles, with eerie blue plasma fire steadily flickering within the gaps.
There were no rusted pipelines, no traces of millenniums of patch-up repairs.
This was a brand-new, perfect contemptor-pattern dreadnought that had just walked off the peak production lines of the Great Crusade era!
“Bip——Click——” Magos Hades’s optical sensors instantly burst with dazzling red light.
His scanner shot out dozens of beams, frantically sweeping across the mecha’s armor thickness, servo joints, and reactor readings.
Perfect.
Absolute perfection.
“01011001…” Hades’s knees went soft, and he fell heavily onto his knees on the metal floor.
His hands tightly gripped the gaps in the floor, and his mechanical vocoder emitted an extremely sharp electronic screech, “The Machine God above!
This is the truth!
This is the primordial relic!
Without the resistance of the Machine Spirit, this is a miracle!” Capetown-3 knelt down alongside him, raising his arms high and loudly praising the Omnissiah.
All the higher-ups of the Lamenters gathered around.
Foros raised his head, looking at this ancient mecha that only existed in the Chapter’s historical records, his breathing completely stopping.
In the Chapter’s armory, there were only a few dilapidated Castraferrum Dreadnoughts, and as for a Contemptor Dreadnought representing the peak of technology, not even fragments existed.
“Foros.” Roya turned his head to look at the Chapter Master, “Stop looking, go carry over the veteran from your Chapter who is injured the most and lying in a sarcophagus.” Foros snapped out of it, hitting his chest heavily in salute: “As you command!
My Lord!” He immediately connected the comms.
Less than twenty minutes later, a Thunderhawk Gunship forced a landing directly on the outskirts of the ruins.
Apothecary Samuel, leading a dozen Space Marines, rushed into the position pushing a heavy hovering cart.
On the cart was a conventional Dreadnought mecha that was extremely severely damaged.
The mecha’s left leg was completely severed, its breastplate was pockmarked, and the armor surface was painted with the Lamenters’ signature black-and-white checks and weeping red heart.
“My Lord, this is Elder Darrell.” Foros’s voice was low, carrying heavy grief, “He lost his limbs and half his chest in the Slaughter Campaign a hundred years ago, and was sealed into a sarcophagus.
The mecha completely paralyzed during the drop pod landing three days ago, and his life support system is failing.” Being entombed in a Dreadnought was the supreme honor of continuing to fight for a Space Marine, but at the same time, it was an extremely cruel torture.
They soaked in amniotic fluid tanks, their nerves connected to the mecha through crude intubation.
The excruciating pain of phantom limbs and the neurological backlash brought by mecha damage tormented them at every moment.
Most Dreadnought veterans would be in extreme irritability and agony upon being awakened.
“Begin transferring the sarcophagus.” Roya gave the order.
Samuel immediately set to work.
The Lamenters warriors collectively knelt on one knee, paying tribute to the elder.
Roya walked to the front of the Contemptor Dreadnought, reaching out to press a hidden compartment on the breastplate.
Accompanied by a hiss of air pressure release, the chest cavity of the Contemptor Dreadnought opened upward, revealing a dry, spacious neural connection slot inside covered with precise metal contact points.
Several Space Marines worked together to lift the sarcophagus, steadily embedding it into the Contemptor’s chest cavity.
The locks closed automatically, and the pipelines docked precisely.
“Hum——” The reactor behind the contemptor dreadnought suddenly brightened.
The heavy servo-motors emitted a low roar, and the thick leg armor spewed out two streams of white airflow.
The optical viewfinder on the mecha’s head lit up instantly, shooting out two crimson tactical visual beams.
Awakening sequence complete.
The entire scene was dead silent.
Foros, Samuel, and the others all tensed their muscles, preparing to pacify the painful fury that the elder would inevitably unleash upon waking.
In the past when Elder Darrell was awakened, he would always emit heartbreaking screeches in the comms channel.
The mecha swayed slightly, lifting its heavy right-arm power claw.
The power claw opened in mid-air and then slowly closed.
The movement was extremely smooth, without any stuttering or obstruction.
“Elder…” Foros stepped forward, his voice raspy, “How do you feel?
The Apothecary will inject you with painkillers immediately.” The Dreadnought did not roar, nor did it rage.
The optical viewfinder rotated, locking onto Foros.
The external vocoder of the mecha transmitted a synthesized electronic bass, extremely steady, even carrying a trace of unnoticeable bewilderment.
“Foros…
battle-brother.
No need to inject painkillers.” Elder Darrell’s voice echoed through the empty ruins, “My nerves…
are not burning.” He looked down at his brand-new metal body, and the massive mecha took a step forward, its movements so light that they completely didn’t match a heavy-armored creation of this mass.
“The burning sensation at the severed limbs is gone.
The stinging pain at the spinal connection slots…
is also gone.” The mecha raised both arms, “I cannot feel that cold amniotic fluid.
I feel as though…
I have put on power armor once again.
No torture, no burden whatsoever.
Extremely…
comfortable.” This sentence was like a cyclone torpedo, directly detonating in the minds of all Lamenters higher-ups.
Feeling no pain?
In the conventional wisdom of ten thousand years, Dreadnought pilots were forever accompanied by excruciating pain.
That was a fate worse than death where flesh was forcibly welded onto steel.
But now, Elder Darrell said he felt very comfortable?
Everyone’s gazes instantly converged on Roya.
Roya stood in place, his facial expression poker-faced, but instantly understanding the reason in his heart.
The items crafted by the Minecraft system had a bottom-layer logic that completely avoided negative status effects.
In the system’s judgment, this Dreadnought belonged to a piece of equipment.
Wearing equipment would only grant armor and attack power bonuses, and it was absolutely impossible to carry a continuous health-draining buff like “severe neurological pain”!
The system rules forcibly overrode Warhammer’s backward and crude physical interfacing setup.
Watching everyone’s fanatical, shocked gazes to the point of almost going into shock, Roya gave a light cough, slightly lifting his chin.
“No need to make a fuss.” Roya casually patted the thick thigh armor of the Contemptor Dreadnought, “I slightly modified the neural conduction matrix of the life support tank.
Dying on the battlefield is an honor, there’s no need to let heroes continue suffering living hell in coffins.” Thud.
Chapter Master Foros slammed both knees onto the ground.
“My Lord!” Foros’s voice was hoarse, carrying extreme fanaticism and gratitude, even laced with a sob.
This made them even more loyal and devoted than granting them power armor.
Relieving their predecessors of their suffering, what a sacred and great enterprise this was!
All the Lamenters Space Marines knelt down like toppling gold mountains and collapsing jade pillars, their weapons laid flat before them and their heads lowered.