The Emperor’s Angel of Death

Chapter 3408 Blood-Stained Steel Teeth (II)

Despite the setbacks, quite a few Stormboyz managed to land where they might like, such as that turret. They swung their axes, hacking and slashing at the red-robed Grots defending it, pistols piercing their bodies, then stuffed stick bombs into every crevice of the turret.

In just a moment, the plasma turret that had been madly slaughtering Greenskins vanished in a devastating explosion, swallowing the surrounding red-robed Grots and Stormboyz alike—a scene that, far from frightening the Stormboyz, only made them more excited and fanatical, as if creating such a magnificent explosion was enough for a lifetime.

Immediately afterward, countless corpses tumbled from the towering walls, some red-robed Grots, some Stormboyz. Most were already dead before they landed, crashing onto the ground in unnatural shapes or piled on top of each other.

A loud crash echoed as a crazed buggy smashed into the watchtowers flanking the banner, crushing a group of Boyz climbing the steep steps to the wall.

The Boss watched the lively scene of carnage before him, but felt somewhat "uninspired."

Bashing the red-robed Grots' metal heads to pieces was certainly a good thing, but when this "highly anticipated" gate was breached so easily, little of the pleasure he should have enjoyed remained.

Metal shattering, flesh flying, green light flashing—that was the unforgettable collision and percussion.

Chopping enemies with an axe was fun enough, but it couldn't compare to tearing down an entire fortress, could it?

Now that it was over, the Greenskin Boss was plagued by a strange sense of deflation. Absentmindedly, it lowered its head, met the nearest red-robed Grot, and sent it spinning.

Of course, there were Shrimp castles and cities everywhere in the world. They liked to huddle behind walls, thinking they could escape disaster.

Soon they followed Boss Graggos, smashing those cities and fortresses one by one as easily as smashing mushroom caps. Then the Boss had them capture many Shrimp, locked them in those hot factories with huge chimneys and pistons, under the control of the Mekboyz, to manufacture many weapons.

Weapons were good, but the bad thing was that the Boss left them here to protect the Mekboyz' factories, and then he left to do an even bigger WAAAGH!, supposedly targeting a big ball made entirely of iron. That wasn't so good.

They were dumped here, and the Shrimp hadn't been completely dealt with, but there weren't many left. Mainly because the Mekboyz didn't care about them either. The big things they made were all shipped away, leaving them to find things to fight on their own.

He liked smashing fortresses, but he didn't like playing hide-and-seek. Without specific directions, they couldn't find where the remaining Shrimp fortresses were.

Even if they did find one, it was likely the last one on this world.

Without fighting, he was bored, even kicking Grots every day, or messing with the Mekboyz' factories, or beating the Shrimp slaves inside, couldn't make him happy.

Maybe he should leave...

The Boss nodded, splitting the metal head of a fallen red-robed Grot with an axe. After letting the idea circulate in his mind, he liked the idea even more.

If he could persuade some Mekboy to get him a flying ship, he could take his Boyz away from this boring world.

Just then, a spindly assassin with blades for hands charged the Boss from behind as it was "pondering," but a flat-headed, ball-shaped creature slammed into its legs. With a crisp snap, the Ruststalker's knee was twisted to one side.

Radakkra turned his head sharply, seeing his pet entangled with a spindly assassin. The Hardhead Squig raised its hard head, attacking again and again, while the spindly assassin slashed with its dual blades, leaving scars on its pet. He rushed over, punching the injured Ruststalker to the ground with a single blow, then stomping its head.

After dealing with this despicable thing, his gaze swept across the battlefield that was no longer fun, and he narrowed his eyes in dissatisfaction.

"Why are those biker gits here too?"

The crisp sound of stone being crushed and angry roars came from the plaza ahead. A group of Warbikers roared through the open space of the battlefield, the red-robed Grots stationed there knocked askew. The bloodthirsty riders yelled and waved their choppas, grinding back and forth with their massive wheels, crushing the fallen red-robed Grots into pieces.

"Where do you think you're going?"

The Boss shouted at them:

"Get your boss over here! I need to talk to him!"

To complete his planned escape, Radakkra intended to pull in some accomplices. The Warbikers were on good terms with the Meks, maybe through them he could find one or two who were willing to do it.

"We've got things to do!"

"You bunch of idiots! Get back here!"

Unsurprisingly, the Warbikers didn't listen while driving. They focused on crushing their opponents with their wheels until their broken bodies merged with the ground.

The line of Protector Guards did their best to stop the thunderous charge, but their bodies were no match for the alien brute force, either being knocked over or sent flying, crashing into the walls.

The Boss had no choice but to curse and chase after them, panting, while occasionally stopping to stomp on the heads of injured red-robed Grots with its boots.

It raced along the corridor full of broken metal and debris, the Hardhead Squig hopping along behind it. The two came to the entrance of a spacious vaulted chamber hung with tapestries. The walls and marble floors gleamed with bright metallic light, emanating from a large sphere in the center of the hall, hovering on a platform flanked by glittering silver pillars.

The Warbiker Boss was indeed here, having stopped his bike and was loading a pile of shiny things into the back seat, obviously preparing to trade them to the Mekboyz for parts to continue modifying his beloved bike.

"Dag nabbit! Are you finally done playing?"

Radakkra roared impatiently, panting:

"Asking you to stop is like asking for your miserable life!"

"Heh, look at these crystal lumps, that's what the Meks call them. They're willing to pay a high price, seems like they're tinkering with some device."

The Warbiker Boss grinned, sweeping a pile of crystal components for laser equipment into his pocket, looking very happy.

"Once I'm done taking what I need, the rest is yours."

"Wait a minute!"

It looked at the Boss in confusion, frowning, and put its hand on its big gun.

"What's up! Trying to double-cross me?"

"What double-cross, don't you think it's too boring now? Think about it, what else can we do to other Shrimp fortresses? There's nothing to do here anymore, but if we leave this mudball, leave those Mekboyz with gears for eyes, we'll have more worlds, fortresses, some even bigger than this one. We'll kick down their doors together, tear down their walls, and then even Boss Gorlakh will beg us to fight for him."