They are dying, occupied, devoured, decades of wisdom and effort burned to the ground, and the blasphemous alien race is about to touch the city of the Om Messiah.

They've poured everything they have, every drop of blood on the parched wasteland of Just, every one of them has taken up arms against the invading aliens, the broken assembly lines have been opened to the maximum, bullets have come out of the steel chains, and in an instant they have been stuffed into the chambers of their guns, everything, they have poured everything.

But it didn't work.

The best time has been missed, the Great Sage who was hanged by the angry sages misjudged the enemy's strength, and his arrogant attitude towards the enemy caused Justest to fall into the abyss step by step, and now the bones of the Great Sage are still hanging from the top of the Lustre World Furnace, and under the gorgeous red silk are the scum of thousands of people.

No amount of punishment for the dead will undo the sins that the sinners have already committed, and everyone will die, under the sword of the alien race, paying the price for the arrogance of the great sage.

Deliver them, O God, Just-forged world, a shining jewel of machinery, and the God of All Machines will not tolerate His wisdom falling into the hands of blasphemous aliens.

They are still praying, they are still resisting, they are still struggling, but the alien fleet covers the entire sky, they are cut off from the outside world, and their only hope is themselves.

At the last moment before the main star was blocked, they also did not receive news of outside rescue.

They inevitably slide into the abyss, and one day at most, everything in Just will be stained with alien filth.

Realizing that the final outcome was still destruction, the people no longer actively organized logistics and stratagems, and they rushed out in despair and misery, shouting the slogan of the Ohm Messiah, the blades of the beasts tearing apart mercilessly, the wires wrapped around the flesh and flesh, piled up in a mess, fat and blood making them greasy, rust like moss jumping and cheering.

Perhaps the destruction of a cast world is not worth mentioning in the eyes of an empire as bloated as a behemoth, and there is no ripple in the self-interested and ruthless Martian casting net, but in the eyes of people who have lived in this casting world for generations, this is the end of their entire world, the upside down and shattering of the world on which they have always lived.

God gave up on them.

But even if God gave up on them, they didn't want to give up on God.

A part of the troops voluntarily withdrew from the defeated front, and they went into the factories where they once lived, and began to destroy and burn the sacred machinery in an orderly manner.

The holy oil was sprinkled on the paper of knowledge and burned; The sculptural sword was removed and snapped into the engine, and the sages began to destroy the miracle that had taken centuries to forge, and some even set fire to their own chips to cut themselves after blowing up a factory.

The alien had not yet set foot in the main city, but the flames had begun to consume the city, and the discordant rhythm resounded above the city, the groans of the complete death of the machine.

In the most central and central part of the main city, Ra, who took over the seat of the Great Sage, stood desperately in front of the world's melting pot, which occupied the core of the entire planet, an irreproducible miracle in the history of industry, a throbbing heart crucible.

But now, he had to stop the powerful beating of this heart with his own hands, and it could not fall into the hands of the enemy.

Rah trembled, he did not want to be a sinner, the craftsman smashed the treasure with his own hands, the wise man voluntarily burned the books, and a great sorrow and despair enveloped him.

"Why? Why is Just facing all this? ”

"Lord, if you really exist, why are you indifferent to the dust of knowledge? Is everything we trust still just a lie? ”

"Respond to me! Respond to me! My Lord! ”

The sage shouted hoarsely, and above the hot and bright body of the furnace was the broken and rusty body of the great sage, and the dead hung hobbly from the top of the furnace, as if mocking Ra's foolishness.

Ra watched it all in despair, and the despair made his consciousness so close to collapse that he didn't notice the slightest change - the corpse's fingers twitched slightly.

The Most High Being watched them, the cogs and cogs began to resonate, the wires writhed like living creatures, the flames slammed against the walls of steel, the steam and the arc were beautiful songs, the jumble ticking and dancing, his consciousness drooping from the crucible throne.

The gods are disgusted by the ignorant who confuse their fate, and the law imprisons their authority over the physical side, and since the gamblers change the rules of the game, they can drag in new variables.

Whispers sounded in the chaos, there was also a tacit understanding in the war of the gods, tacitly, hidden, the Lord of All Changes, who liked to overturn the upside down in a loud voice, and the darkness behind the curtain looked at the new visitors, and the whispers were the chaos that stirred up the entire galaxy.

He is the chosen variable.

No, it is a [deal], with a ladder of upward climbing at one end of the scales and the beginning of a broken empire at the other.

The four largest chairs in the subspace were too dangerous, and he was reluctant to agree to such a deal, especially the Demon Lord of Ten Thousand Transformations who invited him to sit down, and the sincerity of the sneering smile was self-evident.

Perhaps he should not have entered this destiny too soon, but the chips they offered were tempting enough, for for Vashtor it was the first steam engine of the new era, and since then, everything has passed and a new era is slowly unfolding.

The sweet breath tempted Him, and He signed part of His soul under the parchment of the trade, and the four gods paid the price.

And here he was, at the behest of the Lord of Stagnation, and the gods on the other side of the trade were divided, and Vashtor was keenly aware of the deity's wrath beneath the water.

[Words have their own unique charm, and the names that give meaning to things are even more mysterious.] 】

[RUST, its name is rust. 】

When the legion of the Death Guard arrives, the chord of meaning will reach its peak of perfection at this moment. 】

[Concepts have accumulated to the limit, and what I seek may be stagnant.] 】

"I'm sorry."

The plague agent he spoke to spoke to spoke in a slow, polite voice, the Death Guard's bone-white livery already taking on a brilliant and dreamy pastel color on his armor, like a dream after ingesting a poisonous mushroom.

"Please speak humanly."

【. 】

[I am seeking the "Heart of Plague" here, and it may be here. 】

Heart of the Plague, Ouroboros, Tuchucha.

This is the treasure promised to him by the four gods, and it is also a blade capable of toppling the galaxy.

"Then what can I do for you, in His name."

[Death, rust, spread your rust as much as you can, use it to eat away at people's hearts, and when enough mechanical sages fall into madness, my power can pour out of the furnace.] 】

"Thank you, I love the plan."

Raton unhurriedly straightened out his potion bottle, checking his spear head for harvesting genetic seeds, which was still usable despite a thick layer of rust.

In addition to spreading the plague, he also collects some of the Death Guard's genetic seeds, and Raton feels a sense of satisfaction that he needs to return the Death Guard to its intended destiny, even if he can't do much right now, but at least he can save those that haven't had time to plant yet.

As a former pharmacist, he knew that in such a chaotic battlefield, the recovery of genetic seeds was not 100%, and the chaos and tragedy of war would cause some corpses to be lost in the corner of sight with seeds.

In return for the seed, Raton gave Motarian a boat overgrown with lush fungus, which he hoped the Death Guard had received and was intrigued about.

Raton collected fourteen different fungi from galaxies, forty-nine different soils, and a small red fungus with cute little smiling faces on it, which were particularly beautiful when they came out of the human body, and Raton hoped that Motarian would like the gift.

Oh, of course, of course, he'll help spread the rust, but the wanderers who leave their homeland are always very homesick.

Three artifacts: Ouroboros (Caliban's Secret), Tuchucha (engine, little boy servant, in the original book at the lion king, Kalas went to rob, failed, regretfully left), Plague Heart (the least information, basically nothing, known 41k only appeared on a week corrupted by the death guard, and Nurgle was looking for this thing)

The three artifacts are combined, becoming a network excavator (known), digging digging, and other functions, but it is currently unknown

(End of chapter)