Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

It doesn't know what it is, nor does it know where it is. In short, it is such a soft and steaming good place. It is very suitable for it to dig its head out of this soft soil pile, staring with its two bright eyes that are not very green or big, picking up an iron stick from the ground to irrigate the water, holding the stick and staring at the green things next door.

There are not many cubs growing in the ground now, and it can't figure out whether it has not been planted for a long time or the nutrition of this rotten vegetable field is not enough. In short, there are only a few of them next to it, standing stupidly in the green leafy ground, not as cunning as it is.

As it thought about it, it stretched out the stick in its hand and pushed the cub next to it into the vegetable field with its butt facing up, and laughed happily. Seeing this, other guys rushed up to play with him. He easily slapped them with his left and right hands. When the other guys were exhausted, he felt that he had grown bigger. He licked his armpits and became more smelly.

Just as he was proudly picking up some rotten vegetable leaves from the ground to decorate his head, two big steel shrimps and a tiny black shrimp suddenly rushed in. The first big one was gold and silver, and the second big one was silver and gold, and he was very powerful.

Before he waaaaagh went up, a golden light burst out from the palm of the little black shrimp's hand, as bright as the fart of the second brother, and it was crushed into charcoal in an instant. Before it could play a trick and pretend to beg for mercy, uh...

"Did we encounter a branch that grows particularly fast, or is this the case with orcs in general?"

Morse raised his hands, and streams of fire poured out from his palms. The blazing flames carried the fragments of the swirling golden characters and asserted that they burned through the dark brown farmland where the lush vitality of the Mountain Array had been completely transformed into alien nutrients, leaving only charred residues. However, the arrival of the power of destruction contained the expectation of remedy.

After the flames burned out the organic matter in the soil, and the walls were also covered with the dark remnants of the flickering shadows of the flames and candles, Morse put down his hands, pinched out the golden candlesticks, and left thirteen clusters of brilliant golden flames surrounding the land as a preparatory setting to prevent accidents from happening again. He clapped his hands together to indicate that he was done.

"It's impossible to judge." Rogal Dorn said.

Perturabo snorted, "It's better to be an exception."

"At least we have proved the efficiency of breeding orcs. If this thing can be eaten like non-toxic mushrooms, I'm afraid we have directly solved the problem of supplying the Imperial Fleet. We can report to the Emperor and ask for a reward."

Morse compacted the several hectares of charred and agglomerated land with great force, solidifying it into a solid black glass-like ground. The atomic structure changed directly under his manipulation, cutting off the possibility of orcs sprouting again as thoroughly as possible.

If this black stone ground is viewed together with the thirteen clusters of ever-burning flames and the traces of burns on the surrounding white walls, it is quite a bit like the deep atmosphere of a dark temple or sanctuary with heavy shadows.

"I think your field cannot be reused," Morse said, "so I'll prepare a decorative place for you."

Rogal Dorn added belatedly: "Even if orcs can be eaten, the act of breeding aliens itself is contrary to the Emperor's public declaration-thank you for your free interior design, Morse.

"Morse never gives any good suggestions. "Perturabo said, casually joining Dorn in solidarity, using his low-level jokes to cover up his frown.

Morse has gradually discovered a characteristic of Perturabo in recent days, that is, the closer the interlocutor is to the Lord of Iron, the lower the level of the Lord of Iron's rhetoric.

He smiled and didn't care. "I assume that a necessary component of a good relationship is mutual ridicule, Perturabo. Let's go to the next place. I think Dorn is getting anxious."

Dorn raised his head from the data board, and lowered his head again to talk to Morse: "Floating spores were detected in the pool of the microalgae culture room, and there are no formed orcs."

"This time, you can try non-supernatural purification methods," Perturabo said, "Don't let Morse take care of many things. "

Dorn showed his datapad, which had several green-skinned orc cooking methods listed in neat handwriting like printed text, including potions, burning, high pressure, extremely low temperature, etc. He didn't know when he had finished writing the silent project execution list with extremely high efficiency, which might be used to demonstrate the advantages of handwritten datapads over silent records written with data pens.

"I have ordered the mortal servants to prepare a series of measures," Dorn said, "In addition, the canned vegetables distributed this afternoon are stored in the warehouse. Except for a member of the Imperial Fist Legion who tasted it to verify its nutritional content, no one else will eat it."

"Then you go and burn the orcs, and I'll see if the saliva and stomach acid of the Astartes can dissolve the orc spores. "

A golden light flashed across Morse's body, and he prepared in advance the memory revision psychic power that would not harm the physical body or the light body of a person, as well as the operation of replacing internal organs that might be needed. Although he found that the legion member had no green skin in his stomach during a moment of remote spying, this delicate operation still required some preparation.

"Give me the address, and I'll find you after I'm done."

"No, Morse." Dorn took back his data pad, "Our legion needs to be commanded whether to pursue the orc fleet and how to clean up the planets occupied by the orcs."

He looked at Perturabo, who was in a dilemma between the choice of tightening his eyebrows and moderately stretching the muscles between his eyebrows: "So, Dorn?"

"Are you willing to test an effective way to eliminate the orcs alone, and I will be responsible for commanding both our legions?"

Donne began his explanation seriously, and the words unfolded naturally and smoothly from his mouth, without any irrational discussion hiding unnecessary emotional factors.

"I don't want to seize your command, but you are more experienced in conducting experiments. If I have time, I should test it with you and learn how to operate it. However, two Primarchs are doing the same thing at the same time. "Considering that the opportunity for our Legion to fight is a waste and a waste, and that it would be a waste to avoid encountering an enemy that the Legion cannot deal with on its own..."

Perturabo reached out and tapped Rogal Dorn on the shoulder, and his brother responded with a wink.

"No need to explain further, I agree," Perturabo said. "I can see that the Imperial Fists are good at attacking. Do what you want, you have my name and permission."

Morse snapped his fingers. "Since it seems that burning a piece of farmland can effectively help you suppress your worries about the interior of the Phalanx, how about I teleport you to the strategy room?"

Rogal Dorn's feet were in the air at the moment he was about to nod. By the time he nodded along with the inertia, he had landed at the door of the strategy room.

A heavy landing helped him stabilize his body instantly. His eyes swept across the golden armor he was wearing, and he steadily walked into the spacious hall.

The Imperial Fists command team and Kaidomo Frix and Azak Ahriman, who had previously collaborated, are waiting here. Iskus stood nearby, his half-metal face filled with determination, completely unaware of the disaster he had inadvertently caused. Dorn was not prepared to punish him now.

"Kaidomo Frix."

"Yes, Lord Primarch."

"Recommend to me a suitable team of Iron Warriors. I need to second 5,000 Iron Warriors to participate in the next several battles against aliens." Dorn requested. This number is one-fourteenth of the Iron Warriors' current Astartes. one. "I need commanders who are good at space warfare and close combat fire support."

"Warsmith Bill Perrin," Frix answered. "Nicknamed 'The Good Captain'."

Rogal Dorn nodded and sent an invitation to the Iron Warriors to assist in the battle through the data pad. At the same time, he continued to name the command levels of the Imperial Fists and arrange their respective combat tasks.

He kept Morse's proposal in mind. Those participating in the battle this time will include Aeolus, the former commander of the Imperial Fists, and his first company. In the Unification War, Aeolus' close-range combat helped him meet the challenge. Come for many meritorious deeds.

Meanwhile, Rogal Dorn himself will join the battle.