The thick acid struck with a disgusting aura, and it was splashed accurately and fatally in front of the angel flying in mid-air, and the feeling of death burst out from the whole body of the Master Chief.

Almost instantaneously, he pulled out a blaster and fired into the acid, firing several rounds, plus the war brothers' combined fire, barely able to break the deadly stuff before the biomass touched the Destruction Eagle.

But even so, the shells that fell to the ground due to loss of power were still deadly, and even the mere grazing of them disabled several heretical engines.

"I can't believe it!" The Master Chief looked at the ground as if it had been bombarded at close range by the hot melt, which was an almost incomprehensible destructive force, allowing the hot melt weapon to transcend the limitations of energy transmission and become an extremely terrifying weapon.

He didn't dare to imagine what would become of him if he was hit, and the second demon's "saliva" soon followed, he didn't want to die, he could only give up mobility, even the heavy projectiles of the Hydra anti-aircraft tank could not lock on to those extremely fast-flying Astartes.

But the Governor's favorite child can use a computer-like biological brain to lock down the craziest war situations, and at the same time, at the cost of a huge physical energy consumption, and the Governor has prepared his body with a device similar to the Iron Throne operating system, which is the neural link of the back of the head cannula.

When his body was attached, his consciousness preached to each other, and the fury of the monster crept into his mind, he felt that he was God.

But although this super-heavy tank is terrifying, it can't change the war, and no race will think that a super-strong individual soldier can change the direction of war, otherwise the Zerg will develop even more powerful and crazy beasts.

It has to be said that such an investment in the birth of normal weapons of war is extremely cost-effective, but the technology to control and master has always been lacking in the empire.

It was also destined that the Governor would instead study a giant tank called Yug that was feared by the citizens of the Empire for complete control, rather than a samurai bug that was better in terms of cost performance and war ability.

If the genetic sage of this world, the Forge Governor, was born in the dark ages of humanity, perhaps his knowledge could contribute to the thriving humanity, and perhaps he could open up new paths for the imperial technology that was plagued by psionic and subspace.

But this is the chaotic Warhammer universe, a place where there is no hope, he is destined to be corrupted by chaos, and there is no place to die, so no matter what era, he is destined to be so.

The Space Marines entered the enemy's armored forces like migratory birds falling into the forest, and the Governor did not continue the attack because of the loss of vital forces, but he could only turn the spearhead to the Imperial Guard troops first.

The war behemoth was surrounded by dozens of Riemanus and many pilgrim-like fanatics, wishful thinking that the Enlightened, the Genetic Sage, the Prophet of the Red Pirates could take them out of the sea of suffering.

Colonel Klayne had just recovered from the continuous artillery bombardment, and he had to face the incessant enemy attacks, so he was even more exhausted.

In the dark night, the reconnaissance team was unable to detect the enemy's position due to the confrontation of front-line soldiers, and the Doom Eagle could not soar into the sky to report the situation, the enemy was moving, but the Imperial Guard could only hold on, and in the absence of cover and defensive equipment, their makeshift trenches and war engines could only be bombarded by heavy firepower.

It may be that the heavens can't stand it, in the thunder and lightning roar in the summer, the clouds in the sky become denser and denser, and finally turn into thundershowers, falling on the ground, trenches, artillery craters instantly turned into mud, but the soldiers have to stick to it in order to live.

The artillery bombardment of Riemanus grazed the top of the Salamander Command Tank, and Colonel Lane felt the raindrops fall on his body and watched the bustling lights in the distance push forward against the rain.

He commanded the Partolian soldiers on the makeshift front, who had to rely on anti-tank grenades against the Imperial main battle tanks, but fortunately, their iron will, under the cover of raindrops, poor vision and devastating destruction of the infantry, allowed them to approach the enemy at a relatively small cost (still losing several companies).

Throwing those heavy and somewhat "fat" cluster anti-tank mines into the barrel of the enemy's gun, the tank door then ran out of the door of the tank like a catapult, and then the flames burst out, and the Levalus next to the tank was even more lifted by the impact of it, lying sideways on the ground, wrapped in mud.

The drivers who escaped were not spared, but the emperor was merciful, and the soldier who threw his life into the grenade was disgraced, but he survived because he pulled the lead and ran extremely fast after falling into the tank.

But there is still a lot of time for such a meat grinder, at least until the enemy's huge forces are exhausted, the air here will still be filled with a sense of deadly that cannot be eliminated by the torrential rain, and I don't know if it is because of the existence of subspace or the heat and steam of artillery fire, the weather on the battlefield will always be easy to become bad.

The bigger and more brutal the war, the easier it became, and the Empire's armored forces twisted their massive bodies forward, and under the cover of the death-fearless Partoria Legion, tanks, enemy and Empire, intertwined with their canines, shot at each other, spreading a line of death across the ruined plain.

Shooting, roaring, killing, bayonets, guns, tracks, military boots, messy things ravaging each other and trampling each other, monomolecular blades, hot melts, anti-tank grenades, laser guns, main guns, all the theoretical war equipment of mankind are playing this music.

Ironically, as if decided in the dark, a monster that doesn't belong to history pokes its head out as it plays a song in this chaotic war museum.

It was the work of a person's distorted desires, some might see it as a work of art, others would find it incomparably profane, and when that nightmare poked its head out, someone who knew what it was doing shouted. "Yog is here!"

Zizi, like the voice of a poisonous snake, in this dark universe once again awakens the fear of human beings to sleep within the genes, those things disgusting.

This disgusting creature is awakening the quickest fears of humanity, like a viper, spitting venom, it is a totem, the cultists are getting very demoralized, the chaotic filthy words are spitting out again, and the disrespect for the emperor is infuriating the loyal guardsmen.

The grinding of flesh became more and more ferocious, the foul language scolded each other, the blades and the war did not stop, and perhaps even because of their kind, they were much more brave than when dealing with the greenskins, and they were so brave for no reason that they went to the sapper's shovel without a bayonet, and with their fists and teeth without a shovel.

Some people fight in the mud soup, some people dodge the deadly breath of the poisonous dragon, but there are also hidden people hiding in the chaos, looking forward to slaying the dragon.

After a few faint clicks on the battlefield, the warrior of the Destroying Eagle shook off the filthy bodily fluids on his hands. "Cleaned up." He put down the corpse of the rebel in his hand, and then stuffed the guy who had replaced the double-headed eagle for an eight-pointed star under the tracks of the advancing Riemanus.

And just like that, once again, there were too many of them to be overwhelmed, and there was an unexpected crushing event, and they were the angels who killed and were proficient in it.

Now they are going to be hunters, as always, hunting the enemies of the Empire, only this time the enemy is bigger and much more ferocious.

They stalk the battlefield like hunters crawling through the forest, as if mud and killing, artillery fire or anything else have served as cover for them, slowly approaching their prey.

At dawn the enemy attacked again, the first cannon was still fired, the shells of the enemy artillery rained down again, and the artillery of the expeditionary force let the rebel infantry advance in the face of the fire, so that the soldiers fought bloodily in every chaotic trench (the first thin, shallow trench had been expanded to a full four in one night).

And many people actually ignore the essence of the genetic sage is not a warrior, and his essence is by no means transcendent, and he has a specialization in the arts, and when the miscalculation caused by fatigue and long battle command appears, the Imperial Guard seems to have recovered from the initial surprise attack.

Under the sensitive command of the colonel, he tore open the gap in the defenses of the Eastern Front, which was caused by the shortage of troops caused by the Space Marines, and the 1st Panlan Panzer Regiment rolled up the enemy's defenses as fast as possible, inside and out.

The Imperial Guard, which was already superior in numbers, began to shrink like the fishing nets that surrounded them.

Soon, the tide of battle began to turn, with methodical ship bombardment tearing through the traitor's defenses, coupled with a counterattack by the heavily armored regiment, and flames coupled with methodical and well-trained Imperial Guard fighters.

The storm had passed, the muddy ground slowed down the vehicles, and the reconnaissance team could finally report ground intelligence so that the fleet could accurately shoot the enemy from the void, while Partoria's soldiers stepped directly over the objects with flesh and blood, and then exchanged the melt, bombs, and anti-tank grenades for the traitors who had flaunted their previous prowes.

The Colonel was in the right place at the right time, and his Salamander tank also began to charge, and when the first light spear landed in the enemy's core area, the Colonel was armed with a saber, and the blade's destructive position appeared with a blue glow, and he roared. "The time has come, the major wings, the staff officers of the various teams, the enemy is tired, attack them, for the emperor!"

"For the Emperor!"

The two-month-long, magnificent standing finally sounded the overture to the end, which was a ballad of sacrifice and artillery fire that was as magnificent as usual, heart-beating.

The guards tore through the enemy's front line, the cultists and rebels were killed by the loyalists, the intense shipboard artillery continued to attack the enemy, and the heavily armored companies sent Riemanus to hell with ease.

Essentially, the Governor lost when the Imperial Guard gained the hearts and minds of the Guard, and when Titanium killed his body, he had already lost.

The back of the Governor's head was aching at the moment, as if to remind him that you were nothing without those bodies.

He didn't believe it, he didn't understand it, and he was now merging with his most satisfying work, and he didn't realize that the feelings of this war machine were affecting him.

Even the spirit of the Knight Titan will bring extremely terrible consequences to the operator, and even change the personality, not to mention that this real monster is actually dead when the Governor inserts his head into it for the sake of combat effectiveness.

The beast roared against one, two, three of Riemanus, and even more Guards soldiers, more shelling, the Imperial Guard's attack was strong, and the violent impact of the cannonball touched the governor's nerves even more, making him gradually angry and numb.

When the salamander commanded the tank, Colonel Ryan came to him in the twilight, the dazzling light interfered with the eyes of the giant beast, and the conduction was dulled for a moment, and in the roar of the engine, the power sword was inserted between the eyes of the terrible giant beast, and the heroic aristocratic officer shouted the name of the emperor, and the governor only felt a tingling in his forehead to the point of dizziness.

Such a heroic act frightened the cultists and boosted the morale of the Imperial Guard, who feared the death of the beast and the judgment of the Empire, tortured, and transformed into slaves or servants.

Those fears and feelings were now pervasive and swelled by the subspace energy that had been forged by the wisdom and energy of the Supreme Heaven, and yes, it seemed to be able to feel psionic energy, in other words, the strong emotions of humans.

It couldn't be used, but the stuff was like a stimulant that made it sober and furious, and the behemoth kept shaking its body, and Colonel Ryan was surprised and grabbed its armor exoskeleton, only to feel that his arm was sore, almost broken, and because of this, he let go of his power saber.

"Emperor! Help me..."He couldn't help but mutter, the Imperial Guard soldiers who wanted to help because of the strong shaking and threw off the body of the giant beast could only dodge so as not to be crushed, and some people wanted to shoot and kill the enemy, but they had to worry about the colonel's situation.

In a difficult situation, it was proposed that Colonel Lane be put in order, and the Imperial Guard could be formed as soon as possible to elect an alternate commander, and when the Sun Lord arrived, a new unit commander would appear.

In times of all difficulties, they can only put their guns on the muzzle and prepare shells, if they don't shoot the colonel, they will die from crushing, and if they shoot, he will die from "accidental injuries", both are dishonorable, but choose one of the two ...

The main cannon is adjusted, aiming, death is everywhere, but at the last moment, the roar comes, the falcon swoops through the sky, no one knows how many brave and loyal things those space marines have done, but countless people realize that things are coming.

The Master Chief landed on top of the monolith, grabbed the monster's exoskeleton with his hands, and pulled out a hot melt bomb. "You're doing a good job, Colonel Lane." It was the first time he had called the young man by his name, and the haughty falcon had recognized his companion, and the Partolians deserved their trust!

The colonel said in his busy schedule. "Thank you, angel."

Then the non-commissioned officer grabbed the colonel with one hand, and then stuffed the hot melt bomb into the wound cut by the power saber, and the jetpack sprayed, and after a low roar, there was a buzz, and the crew inside the heavy tank, as well as the core of the tank itself, were all melted into a paste by the heat.

One of the rare (and probably more) geniuses of the Empire of this century has finally died, and at this moment the Colonel has landed like a spokesman for God in the embrace of angels, the soldiers salute the Aquila, and the traitors surrender on their knees.

The colonel now inserted his regimental flag into the war-stained land like a victor and shouted. "The Expeditionary Legion, the Pangia Sub-Sector, the supply network, have been established, and we are now going to drive the Red Pirates out of our empire!"

"For the Emperor!"

(End of chapter)