After the pleasure of shooting, Alan Baier saw that the thing in his hand had become scrap metal, and the core crystal on it became dim after the energy was activated.

"Defective—" He looked at the test-subject, which looked powerful, and it was not difficult to understand why such a weapon was not locked in the reliquary.

It's just a toy that poorly imitates the creations of the Dark Ages, and it has value, but the actual combat effect is not great, so I think that Alan Baier may have knocked out a lot of manpower and material resources in the empire just now.

"Sins, the Empire forgive me."

But no matter how pious the mouth is, the movement of the hand does not hesitate to throw the tattered gun to the side, and at the end of this dark 40th millennium, although faith is important, pragmatism is also in vogue.

In the days of non-stop war, those who hesitate, those who are disloyal, will die in the cruel dark void, and Alan Baier is obviously not among them.

At this moment, the Mechachant's chamber was dimly lit by the light revealed by the database, and he could only rely on the dim light to find out how many treasures were in this huge chamber that probably had a stadium.

Smoke and debris, the servants can't set foot in such a holy place, the oil guy doesn't like housework, and exploring here feels a bit like touching a greenskin's lair, and at this moment Alan Baier has to think of the captain's evaluation.

"As long as they wear the same robes, I can't tell the difference between a technophile and an orc technosaurus."

He lifted the dusty cloth, and the gadgets danced in the air like elves, making him afraid to breathe, with the smell of engine oil or something, but probably not good.

"Holy, what the hell is this!" Even though Alan Bair was well-informed, the container covered under the dusty rags shook his body, the twisted mutation was the body and flesh, and a large part of it was mechanically transformed, and the complex wiring and machines bound it, its twisted flesh was immediately driven when it met the light, and its tentacles stretched out... Mopping the floor?

"Subspace entities? Do the servant? Alan Bair looked at the name the author had given it on the container, words written in High Gothic.

[Sweeper, won the 3,500th time of the Holy Secret Temple, and won the Gene Sage Grand Prix. 】

"Disgusting..."Alan Byr pulled out his gun and smashed the twisted thing with one shot, apparently this is the garbage production site of the oil guy, and this is a thing that is more or less meaningless and has no mass production capacity.

And this casting world can only make Sentinel Mecha or Hydra tank technology at most, which also limits the abilities of the mechanical sages, resulting in the difference between the works here and the legendary Kaul Sages, which can only be said to be the difference between the civil science and the national academy.

The flesh and mechanical parts of the subspace body were sprinkled on Alan Baier's cheeks, and something about the size of a monkey collapsed so much material after the heat melted, it would be good if it could be used for war, but it was probably uncontrollable, and it didn't look like something that could be brought into the subspace for travel.

God knows if it will "call friends" or something.

And then such "displays" and "honorary works" are even more obvious in this place, which is the junction of the Pangia sub-star zone and the Gondelwa sub-star zone, which is originally a relatively difficult edge to monitor, and the casting world is quite independent.

It's also obvious that the thirst for knowledge has led the oil guys to make so many plans, and if the Inquisition comes, it will be enough to burn the oil guys here a few times, but ironically, the oil guys here are probably in a high position, and even the Inquisitor's flames can't burn into the sparks, making their experiments here even more fearless.

Then Alan Baier's opening treasure chest at the moment is even more fearless, since you are engaged in gray research, then I will also open your ancestral grave, no problem, right? Six of one and half a dozen of the other.

But the mechanical sect has thousands of stupid games, so that his methods began to be gradually rough in the future, what gold silk champion cloth, basically ripped off, they don't clean up, it's all dust!

What alloy transparent bulletproof glass, the destruction stand is opened with a knife!

But the things inside are even more varied, highlighting an unbelievable one, and some even Alan Baier can't understand it, so he can only look at the name and guess it.

The Mechachanists' strict secrecy about their knowledge kept them completely out of the blue, and Alan Bair realized after a twisted and strange device exploded and his personal Void shield was activated by a sputtering plasma.

It's useless to rummage through garbage here!

Because of the strict secrecy of the Mechanic Sect, you can't hope that a group of "civil science gods" can use the things they have at hand to make a better one, not to mention the hydra tank, the sentinels are all the wisdom of the casting governor, and the sages gathered here are probably at the level of the foreman on the construction site.

In other words, in charge of the construction site, farming, genetically modified plants, and other civil industries, the competition here is equivalent to those logistics personnel who fulfill their dreams of being great sages.

Although there are a lot of materials here, the real black technology is probably in the Casting Governor's room.

Although this is the base of the Cathars, the production and control of the Cathars actually belong to Mars, and a Martian Sage has direct authority to cross this group of civilians and command those soldiers.

"Why are you so poor!" Alan Baier frowned, but when he opened the curtain in frustration, the world always surprised him.

[Icarus Soul Virus Bomb, won the 2354th Casting Contest of the Holy Secret Temple, the Champion of the Genetic Modification Competition, and the Champion of the Servant Protocol Crafting Competition. 】

"This kid is not just a heretic, no wonder it's so difficult." Alan Byr looked at this stinky fart to put his name on the work, and the Mechanists are pragmatists, so such behavior is actually difficult to understand.

And the pitch-black bomb wrapped in bulletproof crystals, the streamlined arc and pitch-black shape on it reveal the designer's middle two, which is incompatible with the simple war style of the empire.

And Alan Bair searched for a long time and didn't find a lead, but it may be that Icarus was really a genius and eclectic, and he wrote dense instructions on the product in ancient languages.

Probably something that is not ignited by flames, but is activated by an electromagnetic pulse of a specific frequency, and then hacks into the enemy's interior and disturbs the soul.

And this frequency is not limited to any large machinery, so don't press the raised button on the bomb inside your own battleship or machine, otherwise the machine soul virus will give you a special surprise.

"This kid has a little idea, if I meet him before he has those hereticals, maybe we'll be friends." Alan Baier was a little disappointed, this kid is a talent, if he and their mechanical girl do something together, it must be the Inquisition.

But life is destined not to be only good things, those who used to be friends will also become enemies, and those who were once enemies will also become friends, and there will always be only a matter of position.

Although it is a bit stumbling to make things out of the people he killed, Alan is a pragmatist, and he wants to live.

And the room was still very large, and the surprises continued, and when Alan Baier stepped into the inner sanctum, he quickly realized that the rifle that had surprised him before was not a civil thing, and it was obviously a prototype.

And the place where the prototype is stored is the inner sanctum, a palatial place full of gears and mechanical symbols, and on it is also plastered with an ancient slogan that reads, "One day clears, the light of all machines shines." 】

Alan Baier had to frown, he couldn't understand it before, this place was absolutely sacred and great, the huge buildings, the golden gates, the mechanical greatness and the productivity of the empire were vividly displayed here, plus the dusty, like a club in a mysterious place.

Those ancient words that mortals can't understand bring countless romances and mysteries to this place, even for the Mechanism, only study and hard work can get the meaning of those words, but for Alan Bair...

Well... There's no mystery at all, and his head is full of the oil guys scrubbing the doors of this place.

Entering the inner sanctum is naturally a popular puzzle, and the Mechonist is full of admiration for the knowledgeable, so there is no messy obstacle designed, and those who can get wisdom at the end of this dark fortieth millennium should be rewarded for witnessing the inner sanctum.

The importance of this inner sanctum, which occupies almost half of the chamber, is obvious, as the sacred display on it contains thousands of dark age puzzles, and solving them requires not only knowledge, but also a test of wisdom.

But when the above bytes appeared, with the help of the translator, this Dark Age colonization aid actually had a built-in text encyclopedia to reduce the language problems between the colonization and the original sapient beings.

That's right, compared to shooting assistance, this equipment actually pays more attention to communicating and building with local aliens, but the shooting system is incidental, and it is more of a last resort.

Suddenly thinking of holding Google Translate or something as a baby, Alan Baier's heart was sour...

"God Emperor, if you really can hear me, give me the entire military-level Dark Age technology! I'm not a militia! ”

Pray a prayer, strike a posture of the Empire's state religion and recite the relevant Astral Army field prayers? Alan Baier only has this sentence, the emperor likes to do it or not, he doesn't want to eat!

Enter the code, the puzzle is solved, and the golden skulls flicker above the golden gates, and the bones of loyalty welcome the visitors with a faint glow.

The gears turned, the pistons roared, and under the data of the god of all machines, the cold and divine light of the inner sanctum sprinkled on Alan Baier's face, and the uniforms of the officers of the Imperial Guard were stained with a chill, this is a place where life or living creatures should not come, so that the body of the pure gold sculpture can enjoy the peace and death here.

The pillar-sized statue of Ommesiah stood in the middle of the hall, his divine gaze as if he were looking at his heir, perhaps wondering why flesh and blood had come here.

Alan Bair saluted to him, different from the clutter and dust outside, it was clean and full of the atmosphere of the Imperial Church, as a resident of the Empire, the Imperial Guard, he couldn't help but slow down, his military shoes were dusty, and the dust and dirt of mortal representatives were stepped on the gold floor made of goblin gold.

But the row of footprints gave the cold, lifeless place a little warmth out of thin air, and in the middle of the vast hall and the statue of Om Messiah, a relic cabinet powered by a whole crystalline crystal and crystallized power generator, the crystallization of imperial wisdom, the storage of STC or holy relics, stood in it.

"My Emperor." Alan Bair strode briskly forward, the myriad jumble lines and the glittering skull representing its author, a sage of the Empire.

Although it is unexpected, but this is a place that even Icarus cannot set foot in, only the true core of the Mechanicals, such as the Foundry Governor, can set foot, or the Martian Sage, Alan Baier, as a mortal, flesh and blood, walked here, in this empire where it is almost impossible to completely monopolize knowledge.

But fate led him here, as if with traction, if someone really needed him to get the relics here, then that person could definitely only be the emperor.

But Alan Baier still doesn't believe in fate, he can only believe in himself as an Imperial Guard officer, whether it is the land ravaged by the destruction power, or when heresy is rampant, the emperor will not be there in person, he cannot be there in person, only he can carry out his will on behalf of the emperor.

He is the Hammer of the Empire, the Shield of the Empire, and the true nightmare of Xenomorph heresy, and if there is anyone in this world who can obtain the relics here better than him, it is probably only the Genetic Prototypes.

Alan Bair stretched out his hand and fiddled with the complicated line, but he didn't feel any resistance, and the golden chest where the relics were stored opened naturally, and the ancient air stored in it drifted away with corruption, like the smell of an ancient library.

The silver relic, about the thickness of a finger, small but made Alan Baier feel... Familiar.

He'd used his relict pistol countless times, and even though he had taken good care of it, he still noticed that there was a socket on his firearm that could hold something, and he would usually bagged coffee there.

Well, Alan Byr suddenly felt that he hadn't been killed by the machine spirit, and it was really a high level of technology in the Dark Ages.

He took out the relic and loaded it into his pistol almost without thinking, and then the relic's gun core suddenly showed loading, and then, he got the gravitational shooting mode.

Gravitational pull can tear through many heavily armored units or small clusters, and can even pull the speed of heavy armor, which is simply a tiger to him.

But at this moment, Alan Baier only thought that it was a pity that there would be no place to put coffee in the future, and the tactical belt could only be stuffed with a maximum of 12 packs, and there would be no place to put bullets any more, and this plug-in port could put an additional 3 packs, allowing him to hold on to the front line for one more day.

After all, Alan Baier was never sure when he would suddenly run out of supplies, and he was scared.

(End of chapter)