How can a retired savior be considered retired if he drops to 40,000?

Fujimaru Ritsuka followed naturally. It was so natural that even after she squeezed out of the crowd and took two steps, the Night Lords realized that they should react, and then they grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

"We have been ordered to protect your safety." The voice of the man holding her came out from under the mask, sounding muffled for some reason. "You'd better not act rashly."

"But from what I heard from Conrad, it seems that I am the one who makes the decisions in the team." Time is tight, and Debbie has no intention of stopping, so Fujimaru Ritsuka decided to handle it in a simple and rough way. "Let's take a step back. If I can't handle this, I will definitely complain when I return."

After the two sides stared at each other for two seconds, the Night Lord retreated first. Fujimaru Ritsuka ran away from the Terminator's grip without a care in the world, holding the Sky Eagle Scepter and quickly chased after Debbie.

"The space here is disrupted to the point where it is impassable. Is it because there is no one on the upper floors anymore?" She asked about the current situation straight away.

"All surviving staff have been evacuated." Debit replied affirmatively, "Currently, the Chapter's command system is built on the mid-level bridge, and the psykers are concentrated in the nearby hangar. Security issues are being looked after by Tezcatlipoca."

Debbie can only retain five minutes of memory every day, so he has developed an extremely efficient style in speaking and doing things - no nonsense and no lies.

It might seem inexplicable to others, but Fujimaru Ritsuka, who was able to roughly grasp this characteristic, took advantage of it and quickly advanced the progress: "Is there some kind of demon imprisoned up there?"

“That’s right, but it’s more like a resentful echo of death, weak but inexplicably difficult. The problem with the power room is more pressing, so Tezcatlipoca decided to leave it there for now.”

"What is his attitude in this matter? Do the people on the ship know of his existence?"

"He believed that this was the Iron Hands Chapter's own trial, so he would not interfere too much and only provided a venue that was as fair as possible for both parties. Except for the psykers on the ship, most people should not be aware of his presence."

"Can you confirm the identity of the enemy leader?"

"I don't know. Maybe Tezcatlipoca knows something." Debbie said calmly, "I'm not helping anyone in this matter. I'm just doing what I should do. Time is almost up today. You can ask him for more details."

"Really? Then last sentence for today: It's great to see you again."

Debbie paused, turned back and looked at Fujimaru Ritsuka, his indifferent expression showing a hint of surprise for the first time today.

This pause was only very short, less than a second. Debbie quickly returned to his original state of rushing to complete the task, but there was indeed a moment when he smiled:

"Indeed. I think so," he said.

-

Ten minutes later, the group first arrived at the "hangar where the psychics were housed."

Perhaps the astropaths and navigators originally had their own comfortable rooms on the ship, but now, in order to facilitate unified management, they have to live in this makeshift place with harsh conditions like a refugee camp.

But probably no one would really complain about it, and the reason is very clear: after entering this hangar, even people who are not psychics can clearly feel that the strange sense of oppression brought by the subspace has been significantly reduced, and the occasional blasphemous whispers in the ears have completely silenced.

This place is indeed still a subspace, but no one knows what Tezcatlipoca, who is in charge of it, did to make the surrounding environment inexplicably become "more suitable for human survival."

Not far away, there were people in astropathic robes wandering around, seemingly trying to get closer, but they didn't really come forward, either because of the presence of Debbie or the Night Lords. There were slight whispers coming from the direction of the camp, but in comparison, this was not the first thing to worry about.

Tezcatlipoca, entrenched in the center of the vacant hangar, exudes an aggressive presence in this dim and cold environment.

Perhaps because he had come to a different world, or perhaps for some deeper reason, the current Tezcatlipoca temporarily did not use the self-made blond male image from before, but in a sense maintained the prototype: an unusually large skeleton, similar in shape to that of a human but obviously different, lying in the center of the hangar, did look a bit shocking.

Fujimaru Ritsuka didn't realize that the reason why the others in the team were shocked was not because of its overly large appearance. She was already very accustomed to similar things, and walked forward with Debbie in a normal manner, as if the thing in front of them was just an ordinary Leman Rust tank.

Then the air shook inexplicably, and the first person to "speak" was Tezcatlipoca:

"I didn't expect it, Priest." The skeleton didn't move, but these sentences, spoken in a completely different language, were naturally understood by everyone and spread out in the hangar in the form of sound. "Probability and fate are really wonderful. I didn't expect that we could meet again even in a different world!"

Apart from anything else, the joy contained in these sentences rings very true.

"I was shocked when I saw Depp. Should I say that he is worthy of being called Almighty God? It's amazing that he can do such a thing."

Fujimaru Ritsuka also smiled and answered in a relaxed tone, like a joke between old friends.

End of today.

In fact, it's not an additional chapter, it's just some fickle behavior.

I don't know whether this way (2k small chapter × 2) or that way (4k per chapter) is better.

(End of this chapter)

Chapter 51: Night Lord Ghost Story

It is a tangled cause and effect, a hateful fate, a lingering curse, and a hateful and despicable shame.

This is how Iron Father Malkan Ferros defines the Emperor's Children in his heart.

Of course, if he had met him face to face on the battlefield, he would not have described it so gently and euphemistically. But in terms of language, this is enough. Language and words are used to pass on the magnificent history of the Chapter since the Great Crusade to the recruits, so the rhetoric needs to be restrained as much as possible. After seeing that history, the Iron Hands recruits will naturally understand those things that are not in the words.

Then they will know how to do as countless of their predecessors did, choosing to tell the rest of the evaluation on the battlefield, with weapon bombs in front of the enemy.

As one of the few members in this overly rational and logical chapter who did not impose an emotional suppression protocol on himself, Malkan Ferros was naturally filled with anger when facing the current situation:

The battle barge "Destruction Claw" was attacked by a small group of Emperor's Children warbands while sailing in the warp. If such an attack occurred in the physical universe, their chaotic and arbitrary macro-cannon "salvo" would not even be worth mentioning. But the tricky thing is that this incident happened in the warp, and this battlefield obviously favors those traitors and corrupts who are blessed by the masters of Chaos.

Although the Destruction Claw successfully tore apart the enemy's formation and sank two small boats whose appearances were transformed and infected to the point of blasphemy and disgust, it was not unscathed and was boarded by the enemy. The brothers of Clan Dovk were not afraid of such a battle, whether they were first-born warriors or new blood of the Primaris. All the warriors were filled with anger and hatred for the enemies who staggered into the ship from the breach, laughing obscenely, fiddling with weapons or musical instruments with their mutated limbs, and covered with colorful decorations that were disgusting even to describe.

As always, the precise calculation of mathematics and logic can always find a way for the Iron Hands to win. The Emperor's Children's boarding team corroded many small holes on the Destroyer Claw, but under the precise detection of the divination runes and the accurate and fast command of the data link, the most suitable troops were dispatched to the most suitable position in an instant. The battle brothers poured their hatred and anger on the enemy like a storm. It cannot be said that the battle was easy, nor can it be said that they were unscathed, but most of them did complete their tasks beautifully in accordance with logical calculations.

Except for the two teams sent to the bottom cabin, something beyond observation and prediction must have happened there.

Things that are beyond the prediction of logic and common sense always happen in the warp, so Ferros was not overly surprised. After receiving the rune signal that the two teams were annihilated, he chose to dispatch a team composed of Iron Librarians, Primaris Scouts and Heavy Firepower Teams, hoping that this team could figure out what happened there so that the command system could make a more accurate judgment. In addition, he also made the decision to awaken some dreadnoughts in advance - the complex environment and narrow alleys in the bottom cabin were not suitable for the huge dreadnoughts to display their abilities and firepower, but out of some kind of emotional impulse similar to intuition, he still chose to do so.

This decision saved their lives a short time later.

It was hard to tell which came first: the vision of some Chaos ritual sent back by the newly dispatched investigation team to the lower deck, the alarm in the main power room, or the angry and painful roar of the machine spirit of the Destruction Claw. The video intelligence showed that the slaves and mortal servants in the lower deck had been desecrated by the Slaanesh wizards in a rather creative way, and the energy extracted from their souls by their painful wails undoubtedly had a clear destination:

The plasma reactor in the main power room, the heart of the Claw of Destruction.

The evil and filthy hand of Chaos had successfully and secretly seized it before anyone in the Chapter realized it, and the filthy invisible venom was injected into it, causing it to undergo some disgusting mutations. It was infected by the chaotic and blasphemous consciousness, and the moment it "came to life", it let out a comfortable and euphoric cry, which even disturbed the thoughts of the Astartes Brothers stationed nearby for a moment - and then, in this chaotic moment, a dozen battle brothers near the main power room defense line were dragged into the reactor by the activated metal.

Then, the pollution of Chaos began to spread along the pipelines in the heart of the ship to the limbs of the Destruction Claw. The furious machine spirit screamed and tried to stop it, but the machine itself could not completely defy the laws of its own operation, and the machine spirit's efforts were in vain.

Then, an equally angry Ferros rushed out of the command room, leading his battle brothers and the newly awakened Dreadnought battle group, and rushed towards the newly formed battlefield. After that, after a fierce battle that could have lasted for a day or a year, they successfully and completely cut off the erosion of the main power room on the ship itself after paying a heavy price, and advanced to the vicinity of the lesion itself.

During this period, the tactical dispatch of other parts of the Destruction Claw was completed by his adjutant. As the surrounding pipelines and transmission mechanisms were cut off by violent means, Ferros gradually became unable to receive information from other parts of the ship. But he believed that his adjutant was at least capable of maintaining the situation. As long as he could deal with this most difficult problem, all other difficulties would be solved.

All he and his team needed was a way to safely disable the reactor - unfortunately, considering that the reactor had become a demon engine and seemed to have a consciousness of its own, disabling it without causing serious consequences would require some... delicate skills.

The Iron Father and the Forge Master were not lacking in such fine skills, but to use them under the vast external interference, and not being able to use their best fire suppression to eliminate the external interference, was another severe test: everyone knew that if the reactor exploded, the entire ship would be finished. Whether it was the battle brothers or the dreadnoughts, they were all restricted when fighting in front of the main power room.

However, those damned "interferences" always came like a tide. The activated cables were wrapped in flesh and blood, and the mutated and fused machinery was mixed with the remains of the Iron Hands fighting brothers. The weapons worn and used by the victims were twisted and deformed under the power of chaos, and then under the control of the abominable enemy, their effectiveness was turned to their original colleagues. Ferros led the brothers of the chapter to surround the reactor from all sides, and trapped its influence as much as possible in the main power room, but they could never really get close to it-it shouldn't be so difficult, but this damn thing has been changing its structure.

Even though he had crossed his own Rubicon, Malkan Ferros was still irritated and anxious because of the stalemate. Although he believed in his adjutant's ability, the fact that he was isolated in a single battlefield and could not have an overall view of the entire battle situation still made him unconsciously think that "things might get out of control."

It is said that the performance of the Primaris Space Marines is always more stable when facing Chaos pollution, but he still cannot be 100% sure whether this idea comes from himself, from Chaos, or from some kind of "war premonition" accumulated from experience and probability. He turned to his battle brothers, wanting to get more direct data and information from them, but when he looked in that direction, he found that his battle brothers were not there.

A giant with a deep blue impression took his place. No one knew how he appeared here. He was tall and majestic, wearing luxurious armor. His shadow was like a midnight cut out. Even his presence made the already dim lighting inside the ship even weaker. The darkness bowed to him, and the thunder was his vassal. His inky black eyes locked onto Malkan Ferros. At that moment, the latter felt as if he was completely cut open and forced to reveal all his secrets to the other party.

The giant didn't make any sound, but Ferros was instantly seized by an absurd fear: he had never seen this giant, nor had he seen the armor on his body. He didn't know how he appeared, nor did he know his name, whether he was a human or a ghost - but a legendary name floated uncontrollably from the bottom of the data to his mind, desperately clamoring for its existence. Ferros's sensibility and rationality wanted to reject this conclusion at the same time, but his intuition told him that it was the correct answer.

Conrad Curze's pale face hung before his eyes, and he asked him in a high Gothic accent with a soft hiss:

"Are you the commander of this team?"

There is one more update. Six o'clock.

Malkan Feroce: A 40K Iron Hand tough guy, a rare normal person who thinks that emotion and logic should be balanced among a large group of cold logic paranoiacs, the Primaris. This is the favorite episode of Senior Feroce (very likely). There is a column about him on Bilibili, if you are interested, you can search for details. In short, he is one of the antagonists that must be mentioned when mentioning the Sapphire King. You all guessed it was Sapphire, wu ...

Dovk Clan: A tribe that is roughly equivalent to the rookie company among the bulk iron hands. In actual operation, some veterans also lead the rookies. Because there are many rookies who have not had time to upgrade, it is normal that the proportion of flesh and blood in this clan is much greater than that of mechanical parts.

Dreadnought: Iron Hand's Dreadnought is not necessarily an elder. Although it should be okay to call him an elder, there is a chance that once the sarcophagus is opened, it is actually empty...

(End of this chapter)

Chapter 52: I can’t write about the horror of religious filters

Leslie Cole knelt before his makeshift shrine and prayed devoutly. He was an Astropath and a devout believer of the State Religion. He believed in and worshipped the majesty and supreme power of the God-Emperor.

This devotion did not bring him any perceptible help in his previous work, and he believed that he was no different from other astropaths. Even though he had been promoted to the chief cantor of the astropathic choir during his hundred years of service on the Claw of Destruction, he still firmly believed so.

Faith can strengthen his will in the turbulence of the highest heaven, protect his thoughts, and prevent him from falling into impurity or being corrupted by the power of chaos. Leslie's faith was not born from this, but he was already very satisfied with it and did not expect more.

But today he began to wonder whether his piety had indeed made the God Emperor hear his prayers, and whether he was excited and delighted by this imagination, and then became more pious.

In fact, when the incident first occurred, the entire upper echelons of the ship, the departments not related to combat, were not very clear about what happened on the ship, and Leslie was the same. Everyone in the Star Language Spire heard the warning sound from the internal broadcast of the ship and confirmed that the area they were in was more tightly sealed, just like every time the warship was boarded.

Being boarded in the warp was uncommon, and although Leslie had heard of this tactic, it was the first time he had actually experienced it in a hundred years. He was a little nervous, but as the chief singer of the choir, he tried his best to hide his anxiety in his heart, and unified his younger, inexperienced, and therefore obviously confused members with a strong attitude.

He assumed that Geller's position had failed (which was indeed the case), and told everyone to stay quietly in their seats and enter a meditative state to resist the erosion of the warp, and to be ready at all times - half of the people could relax and rest a little, while the other half must always pay attention to the communication with the bridge and be ready to use their abilities according to the commander's orders: whether it was their job of sending astropathic messages, or using their powerful psychic powers connected to the God-Emperor to fight in times of crisis.

Leslie didn't want the latter situation to happen from the bottom of his heart: if things really came to that point, he didn't know if he could do what he was supposed to do. He was always easily nervous, and it was more serious when he was young. He would panic when encountering a little thing. Now he was better, at least he knew how to pretend to be calm, but it was also limited in nature.

His strength did calm the choir, and everyone waited quietly in the spire. Only he knew that it was a very torturous time for Leslie. He had to hold tightly the necklace with the emblem of the Church of England hidden under his robe, and recite the Church of England prayers constantly to barely control his mind from sliding into a more terrible abyss.

Unfortunately, although he barely managed to control his thoughts, he was unable to prevent the situation from sliding into a more terrifying abyss. The first problem was that the communication was cut off. At this time, they could still comfort themselves that this was normal. The enemy always attacked the communication system inside the ship first to hinder the support dispatch; then, there was a terrible shaking on the ship. It was difficult to tell from the spire on the edge of the ship whether the impact came from the inside or the outside, but no matter what, it was obviously not a good sign; then, almost all members of the choir keenly felt that something evil had descended on the ship.

This feeling was vague and quite unreliable, but every premonition of a psychic was almost meaningful. Leslie didn't know what had sneaked into the ship by what means, nor could he tell what the problem was, but he clearly sensed a threat of death that was imminent.

He still forced himself to appear calm, and was even able to comfort those worried young psychics so that their emotions would not fluctuate too much and lead to something worse - but in fact, if a pen and a piece of paper were stuffed into his hands at that time, he would probably immediately burst into tears and lie on the ground to write a suicide note.

It was unknown how long this lasted. Those with weak minds began to attract unclean things under the overly nervous emotions, and were soon automatically executed by the corresponding institutions under Leslie's orders. The outermost star language spire of the ship should not be able to sense anything after the communication was cut off, but Leslie always suspected that unknown enemies had approached the adamantine gate and killing corridor that isolated them. Every vibration of the ground and walls made him panic. He repeatedly persuaded himself to stop these groundless fantasies in his heart, but after an unknown period of time, he realized that such a thing seemed to be happening.

Everyone heard the sound of gunfire getting closer and closer, felt the vibrations getting stronger and stronger, until the signs became so clear that they could no longer deceive themselves. Leslie desperately organized his remaining choir members, no matter what their fate was about to be - being killed or being captured and tortured, they had to do something.

The last barrier collapsed with a tooth-grinding scrape and explosion, and the heat was high enough to melt gold, burning everyone's cheeks. A few seconds later, all the light, smoke and water vapor dissipated, and Leslie found that there was only one person standing in the gap of the broken door:

Debit Zem Woyd was an astrogeologist who had inexplicably appeared on board the Destroyer Claw after it had carried out a mission to wipe out the Genestealer Cult on a planet in the Calixis sector a few months ago. Leslie himself was not familiar with this professional division, but he did sometimes see this young man talking to the navigators.

He didn't understand why this young man appeared here, didn't understand why he could break through the heavy defenses under the Star Language Spire by himself, and didn't understand what he was doing by doing this - and the young man with rare purple eyes didn't give him time to understand, but went straight to the point and issued an imperative sentence to everyone present:

"The upper level is no longer safe. If you want to survive, come with me to the middle level."

The young man did not explain, but just turned around and left the way he came. The whole thing was too sudden, so Leslie could not think - but perhaps, he used this to force others not to think and must follow his orders? Leslie was not sure, but if this was really the case, then Debbie succeeded.

"Follow him," he said, turning back to the remaining choir members.

Judging from the result, it was a correct decision: the defense on the Astropathic Spire, which had been completely destroyed once, could not provide any protection, and following Debbie all the way down successfully allowed most of the remaining Astropaths to survive safely. But if you look at the process... Leslie can only say that it was the most terrifying experience in his life.

The navigator's tower has fallen, and some kind of evil thought from the warp entity is lingering on the upper deck of the ship, ready to pick up all the souls it can touch. The psychic's thoughts will be doomed if they come into contact with it, but Debit has interfered with the communication between the two in a way that the psychic cannot understand.

Leslie's memory only goes up to this point. More things seemed to be shrouded in fog, and his instinctive desire to survive also warned him not to explore too much. He only remembered that it was not a very comfortable journey. He only lost two people from the spire, but another person was found to be completely crazy after arriving at the safe place on the middle level of the ship. Crazy psykers are dangerous in themselves, and the current ship is drifting in the subspace, and they were directly ordered to be executed by the temporary commander of the Iron Hands.

No one objected to this, only Debbie himself showed an expression similar to "pity" in a moment of illusion. Leslie accidentally caught a glimpse of this, but he was not sure whether it was an illusion.

Then, the psykers (Leslie noticed the only two remaining navigators here) were collectively placed in a temporarily vacant hangar, manned by a few new recruits of the regiment. The servitors built some basic facilities for them to sit and lie down, and they found ways to collect some fabrics to resist the severe cold caused by the lack of heating.

After settling down a bit, they gathered together in the cold fog and talked in low voices. Everyone could feel that there was an obscure and huge existence in this space, but no one could tell what it was. The navigators who were more sensitive to the waves of the warp said that this existence obscured some of the malice of the Supreme Heaven, and Leslie himself did not feel any clear hostility.

But this was not right. They were anxiously discussing whether they should disturb the temporary commander during the operation with this matter, and the two surviving navigators suddenly screamed like crazy:

"Light... It's light!" They pointed to a direction in the void with their hands and feet, and were so excited that they could hardly speak complete sentences. The noise made by these two people even alarmed the monks of the regiment stationed nearby, but Leslie did not feel any signs of loss of control and depravity from them.

Just as he was wondering, a wide-area star message pierced into the minds of all the members of the choir present like a spike: it came very close, and the content was very simple, asking about the current situation of the chapter.

This was obviously something more important. Leslie immediately informed the commander of the news and, at the other party's request, sent a reply in astronomical language. When using psychic power to project the content of the communication, he realized that he was facing the direction indicated by the navigator.

And then he saw it too: the majesty of the God-Emperor hovering silently in the Warp.

Today is gone. Calculating today, it is almost 6k!

(End of this chapter)

Chapter 53 God or Man?

"It's better to put down your guns and swords," Fujimaru Ritsuka said to the Terminator team behind her. "First of all, it's very rude. Secondly, it's useless to use force. If Tezcatlipoca wants to, it would be easy for him to destroy the whole ship."

Fujimaru Ritsuka was merely stating facts while offering reasonable suggestions, but unfortunately, although the Night Lords team followed her advice and were relieved by the implication that "there would be no war for the time being", they still seemed... eager to escape.

So far, the reason why they have not made up their minds to give up the mission of "protecting Fujimaru Ritsuka's personal safety" is simply because it is a direct order from their genetic father.

The skeletons' eyes were empty, but there was indeed a certain scrutinizing will on them, and the invisible pressure made them hold their breath instinctively. Astartes were modified humans whose bodies and minds had been enhanced through a series of means. They should not panic over trivial matters, and they had almost lost the ability to feel fear or lose their minds due to fear - not to mention that they were the Night Lords who used spreading fear as their specialty weapon. However, they realized here that Astartes were not beyond the scope of humans after all.

They felt a shudder from the bottom of their hearts. It was written in the most basic genes and instincts, which had existed since the beginning of the existence of the "human" species, and it was the most primitive "fear" that existed as a warning mechanism when facing dangers that could easily crush individuals.

"What kind of 'odd things' are you carrying around?" After the invisible and heavy pressure dissipated, Tezcatlipoca turned to ask Fujimaru Ritsuka, "Although you are the kind of person who 'won't learn your lesson even after dying once', you are still quite picky about your companions... No, I'm being nosy, what you said is fine, right?"

Of course, these words were tantamount to disparagement, which made the Night Lords a little dissatisfied - I say "a little" because they haven't done anything special because of it.

When facing a great existence that is far beyond common sense, the human spirit often bears enormous pressure. Such pressure flows from the spirit to the body, and the load of the brain and nerves cannot support them to continue to command the human body.

It may not be that the Night Lords don't want to say or do something, but they just can't do it under such strong pressure.

But Fujimaru Ritsuka ignored it.

"This is a long story, and I have a lot of questions to ask." She was calm and composed, and her tone was steady, "But the most difficult thing to ignore is - do you feel weaker?"

Not to mention the changes in appearance. This is the subspace, and for "Gods", there is no restriction that they must have a physical body to limit and anchor themselves in order to survive. Perhaps when facing Tezcatlipoca, which is still huge and terrifying in terms of its existence scale, for those who have never seen its majesty, the scale comparison of "at least a thousand times larger than humans" is enough to make people despair, but for Fujimaru Ritsuka, who has never seen it but has glimpsed the power of gods from the side, this "a thousand times" is not even as terrifying as the "Tezcatlipoca using a treasure" she saw in the South American Lostbelt, and that was even a pseudo-servant who was degraded to a human body.