Planetary defenses roared, artillery trembled, and bright flames burst into the air.

Billions of munitions crackled like beans on the front fireship, screaming and crashing to the ground, exploding on the murky ground.

Now, the last defenses ahead of the Fourth Knight are also gone.

The blade is unsheathed, sharp, deadly, but equally fragile and fragile.

The planetary artillery on the opposite side is still attacking, doomed to a futile act.

Galaspa's otherwise muddy, dim atmosphere burned, and a dull orange-red glow shone behind the thick clouds.

Lumpy clouds were shivering, swirling from the hurricane into a huge gray-white vortex.

The atmosphere is screaming.

Outside the nest capital, above the wasteland, the crowd of scavengers looked up in horror and looked at the burning sky in amazement.

The bricklayer stood dumbfounded by the sinkhole, looking at everything he couldn't understand.

With his superior eyesight, he saw—

"That's... There! ”

He raised his hand and pointed to the swirling clouds, toxic mud dripping from his suit.

Above the main nest, a sharp behemoth peeked out.

Above, a silvery-white six-thorned skeleton was staring at them without sorrow or joy.

Death came, and fear gripped everyone's hearts.

...

The sound of breaking through the air hissed sharply, and the firelight screamed and tore at the Fourth Knight.

Inside the ship, it was as dead as night.

"Take us in before the enemy fully reacts."

A sigh-like voice spoke, breaking the silence,

"The engine is full."

They galloped through the burning atmosphere and fell into the filthy earth.

"Contact the fleet."

Motarian said.

"Let's start retreating, out of range of this planet's artillery."

The fleet of the Death Guard could not survive the fire of Garaspa for long.

"The enemy ships will soon follow. Eat them and wait for my signal to return. ”

Unless the Galaspar cannon fails, the capital ship of the Death Guard cannot get close.

If they can't get close, there will be no victory.

All will die.

Motarian took a deep breath, his hand on the Scythe of Silence loosened and clenched, making a small snapping sound.

This is his first battle, this is the first battle of Death Guard.

Then let him see if they can survive.

He's going to shut those people up.

If we can't live, let death put an end to it.

A huge amount of emotion gripped him, just like it had been in the past.

However, a thought popped into Motarian's tense brain at an inopportune time.

What would Hades think of such a plan?

He suddenly realized that he had never consulted tactics with him on Barbaros before because of Hades.

Will he deny him?

He put an end to the idea.

Motarian silently said, May we be more resilient than doom.

Outside the porthole, the fleet behind the Fourth Knight began to slow down and turn around, and soon, only the Fourth Knight was left moving straight.

Below them, the main nest is a corner of the dark and dirty building.

In the hourglass, the last grain of fine sand flows to the edge—

"Reverse thrust and be ready for impact."

A hiss rang out, and flames burst into flames!

The thrusters roared and spewed flames, and the end of the afterglow even burned the outer walls of the nest capital.

The Fourth Knight trembled violently.

The change in gravity vector was nearly fatal to the mortal crew, blood pouring from their shattered guts.

Those who were too slow to keep up with Motarian's orders crashed into the bulkhead, their spines shattered and blood splattered.

On the bridge, Barracin and Vaux struggled to stand still, clutching to the railing with their hands.

Motalian stood there, scythe in his hand.

He stood as if he were dead.

"-boom-"

They arrived at the destination of the trip.

The Fourth Knight smashed into the side of the main lair.

The scythe of the Grim Reaper sparkles.

...

Death was flowing through the nest, and people ran away like panicked mice, trying to find a corner where they thought they were safe.

The sound of terrifying footsteps echoed along the haul's intricate pipes, and the staggered sound of screeching gunfire rang out.

"Those who give up resisting will not be killed."

"Don't fight, don't get hurt."

"All the Garaspas will take up arms and resist the invaders."

The unfamiliar sound of electricity alternated with the sound of a familiar chief pipe, and the digger shuddered under her assembly line, her brain just drinking the third tube of the day's silent nutritious meal in a mush, completely unincomprehensible to what was going on.

However, with a shrill crackle, the Steward's voice completely disappeared and was replaced by "Lay down your arms".

She didn't know what it meant to lay down her weapon, she didn't have a weapon yet, did she have to find a weapon and put it down again?

But weapons are only available to the adults, and those who touch them will be hanged.

She wanted to run out, but the footsteps grew louder and louder, and the digger couldn't help but shrink back into the corner, and she covered her mouth tightly—

A huge bone white appeared in front of her eyes, stained with blood.

"Hmm!"

She let out a small exclamation, but the giants didn't notice a single mouse.

"Die!"

The voice of the Overseer, familiar to the digger, rang out, but after a single gunshot, it was all lonely again.

There was only rumbling footsteps......

When the heavy, rapid footsteps finally faded away, the diggers trembled and crawled out of the assembly line.

She saw that the overseer who had been whipping her had been dead and his body scattered.

The strong smell of blood caught her, and she shuddered and looked back—

The door to the workshop was blown open, and on the other side of the door, the director's army painted the entire hall.

They are not just giants.

The digger swallowed, her eyes clouded with bright red, her heart pounding.

The gods came and brought about the end of all things.

...

Fernando silently led the undertaker squad along the winding corridor of the nest, where they were following the main force of the second company.

There were about 1,000 people in their branch.

After the Fourth Knight finally stopped, Motarian said only one word to all the soldiers.

"Go ahead,"

He said

"Whoever attacks you with a weapon shall not live."

Under the command of the original body, a total of 11,000 death guards dispersed according to the company, and each advanced towards several locations marked as suspected general command rooms.

Take the opposite head and win the game.

The Undertaker's Think Tank was scattered to different tributaries to assist the warriors.

The Untouchable did not come to this battlefield, and unmodified mortals could not adapt to the intensity of the battlefield here.

However, there was a commotion at the very front of the company.

"Undertaker, we've been attacked by psykers."

They encounter psionic armies that are kept captive by the rulers.

The voice of the commander of the second company rang out from the channel.

Fernando immediately led the team towards the front of the queue.

On the upper floor of this hallway, the apothecary Raton looked at the hot bomb counting down with satisfaction.

"Thank you."

He turned back to the moss-covered psyker who had crawled out of the rubbish.

"Thanks for leading the way."

...

They were unable to end the battle before reinforcements from the other nests arrived.

The intricate terrain of the nest capital and the endless sea of people slow down the pace of the Death Guards.

Little by little, death consumes Motarian behind his back, and the enemy uses up too much of their own strength with the heavy weapons in the hive.

But the original knows what to do at this moment.

Motarian ordered a squad to continue their march towards the main control room, while he led a remnant army to hold back reinforcements in the wasteland near the Hive.

The experience of previous training for this situation was put to use, led by Motarian, who relied on their tenacity to tear through one scar after another in the wasteland of Galaspa.

And yet—

"Surrender, we surrender."

The tyrant's words were heard along the airwaves, and Motarian waved his hand and tore the tank across him with a scythe, the driver's head splattering along with the metal.

"Not really."

Motarian said.

"The Death Guard will not accept your surrender."

Tyranny must be uprooted, and filthy blood flows through every vein of it.

Accepting surrender means the reservation of tyranny, meaning that this victory will be meaningless.

The enemy army in front of him began to crumble, but Motarian did not give the order to stop.

His army continued to shoot at the trembling men who had discarded their weapons.

And above the nest capital, the supreme ruler still trembles and opens his doors, trying to make the other party aware of his overtures.

Gunshots rang out.

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