Traveling through the Warhammer world, but I didn’t cry.

It had been a long time since Dantic had been as comfortable as he was today. He didn't have to beat his head to pieces for a precious glass of water, and he didn't have a devil's alarm clock urging him to work overtime to produce more weapons and ammunition all the time.

Silently lighting up the data pad in front of him, he leaned completely on the chair he had welded with the collected emperor's icons, and watched the production of the Devil's Womb Factory.

Countless female slaves were imprisoned in cages and force-fed until their bodies expanded to grotesque proportions.

The fattened women who are spliced ​​together will become the key breeding instruments for the demon's womb. Chemical lines were inserted, gene seeds were inserted and an adolescent child was sealed within the women's dilated stomach pouches.

The Skinless One who is successfully cultivated will become an Astartes, while the failed one will become a waste product like a mutated Chaos Spawn.

Finally, the skin of a male slave was sewn onto the body of these skinless Astartes, and a tortured skin-grafted Chaos Space Marine was born.

How efficient. Although they are a little inferior in strength to those recruits who have gone through numerous selections and tests, the number of these warriors will make up for this shortcoming.

Today, these productions are coming to an end. The last batch of skinless ones have been born, and the development of those wombs has matured and can be cut off and sent to his planet.

This plunder can be said to be a huge profit, as countless minerals and slaves were transported back through the stabilized cracks. And they can drive these imperial fools out of their war games.

Dantic and his soldiers felt happy at the thought that they did not have to dig trenches in the mud and build fortresses.

They were once such characters, needed by endless wars and put into the most dangerous and difficult battlefields.

After conquering the strongest fortress and digging the deepest trench, the soil on the body has not been washed away, and the circulating air in the armor has not even been replaced.

Then he was called into a bloody battle by the damn Corpse Emperor and other hypocritical war groups who had no sense of shame.

Every time he thought about this, Dantic felt the anger of being fooled and deceived burning into his heart.

but now....

Watching his mortal armies and Imperial armies killing each other in the muddy swamps of flesh on the holographic map, he suddenly understood how pleasant it was to not have to do the dirty work himself.

He could send legions of slaves to level the empire's minefields.

He could direct the panting troops to run here and there at will.

He can use countless artillery pieces to hit the heads of troops caught in the melee.

What own people? Dantic and his warriors never considered these slaves thrown into Chaos as their own.

Do you remember how much coal you shoveled into the boiler? Stop being funny.

A corner of the screen lit up, showing a slave general under his command. Dantic still had some impression of this guy.

It is true that his command level is good, and he studied the defense and siege teaching books he handed out very seriously.

It's much better than those fools who want cards in the mining areas and basic processing plants below. Production efficiency is not guaranteed, and you still want to get more things from Dantic?

Throwing it into the devil's womb factory and peeling off the skin is the last value of these idiots who can't understand how much they weigh.

"Sir...my defense line here is already...stretched. It will be difficult to resist the imperial army for much longer. I wonder if I can call in some support?"

"what do you want?"

"If there were three hundred artillery pieces..."

"Ok?"

"Then two hundred...one hundred..."

The mask on the general's face fluctuated with his nervousness and fear. Dantic just looked at the slave general who had never seen a big scene with contempt, and slapped the table hard.

"I will prepare three thousand artillery pieces for you. How do you have the nerve to ask for three hundred artillery pieces?"

Without giving the general more time to react, Dantic closed the communication, "What a shame!"

Taking out a piece of ceramic steel and a can of water, Dantic carefully ground the ceramic steel into powder, mixed it into the canned water and drank it in one gulp.

"My lord, those Kriegs are being escorted."

"very good!"

A soldier wearing power armor completed the report to him, but Dantik also noticed something was wrong with the soldier, "Why weren't your arms cleaned in time?"

The warrior wearing a dark metallic luster power armor looked down at his arm and found a demon's face emerging from his arm armor painted with yellow and black warning stripes.

The demon twisted a weird smile of hatred and resentment, grew flesh and blood that it shouldn't have, and bit the warrior.

Dantic grabbed the twisted demon and looked at the careless subordinate in front of him with dissatisfaction and reproach.

"I told you to clean up every day, but you forgot again?"

"I'm sorry, sir..."

"Go back and take a bath with promethium! We Iron Warriors only enslave demons, not possess them! Next time you let me see you, I will hide you in a hell beast!"

"Yes sir, I'm going to take a bath with promethium."

Looking at the little devil who was still struggling in his hands, Dantic was not polite to him, and hit the devil's body with a forging hammer.

"I always have to clean up these things of yours! It's so annoying! Go find those damn fat guys who play with shit? Do you know how much promethium is synthesized every month when I clean up these disgusting things of yours?"

The demon howled in pain as his soul was torn apart by the forging hammer and sucked into it, turning into a small sunken face on the head of the hammer.

Dantik took back the forging hammer and couldn't help but think of their once glorious army that conquered the Emperor. Now the Emperor's Children have become a group of drug addicts. Let alone fighting, it's good for those idiots to stand firm on the deck.

The Death Guard are wallowing in shit soup day after day, and don't care about anything except taking care of their disgusting flowers and plants. Their ships were about to be stationed near Dantic's planet, and a smell worse than fermented shit wafted over.

Dantik went to these Death Guards many times and told them not to pollute the environment around their planet. Even the unfiltered smoke from the crematorium was covered by the stench.

In the end, the two sides couldn't talk anymore and had no choice but to start a war. Dantik swore that he didn't want to fight the Death Guard for a second time. It was really disgusting.

The sound of heavy footsteps came, and more than twenty steel warriors stood in this completely enclosed steel hall. These were the guards brought out by Dantic during this holiday plunder.

After all, their main purpose for coming out was for the ores and mature demon wombs, not to rush over and smash the empire's world to pieces.

The Iron Warriors only engage in efficient technical warfare, using the least effort to do the most work. They are indifferent experts, and everything can be calculated with precise numbers.

Instead of following the example of Karn's World Eaters whose brains were ruined by blood, they would kill as many people as they saw in the Empire and kill as many as they wanted without any brains.

Several skulls floated over, and a Krieg soldier was tied under each mechanical skull. These soldiers who built positions with gas masks and charged desperately reminded Dantic of themselves.

Sympathy arises spontaneously, and you can try to persuade these Kriegs to join them, and the future new empire can also give them a place.

After all, their fighting skills are indeed pretty good.

"I am Dantik, the leader of the Ironbone Warband. Your empire is just a sandcastle built on lies. Why don't you join us and fight for a new empire."

No. 0 raised his head and looked at Dantic, "Are you their leader?"

"exactly."

"You were also responsible for this rebellion?"

"Hahaha, it's a joke. We just instigated it a little. The people have been suffering from the empire for a long time. I prefer to call it liberation."

"Ok."

No. 0 lowered his head, thinking about whether he should take action now.

But at this moment, the screen of the communicator installed on Dantic's arm lit up, and a familiar holographic figure was clearly seen by No. 0.

"Oh? What's the matter with you?"

"Sir, there has been some minor chaos on the front line, and the Imperial Army has fallen into a civil war."

A larger war infographic was displayed in the hall, and Dantic could see that the battlefield had descended into chaos.

The Empire's Atonement Legion, the Imperial Guard, and his slave army were fighting in the middle ring area of ​​the Scrap Steel Plains factory area.

"What's your opinion?"

"We can release all the cell-destroying cultivators and let them join in the melee. We can directly push back all the way and break through the Memeril Hive. The tithe tax warehouse there contains all the accumulation of this planet in a century. Everything that comes down.”

"The plan is acceptable. We will postpone the rift transportation. We can give points to the Dark Mechanicus with the proceeds from this time. They have been tinkering with a lot of new things recently."

The holographic figure disappeared, and the fortress began to tremble. It must be that the cultivators who destroyed the cells were being sent to the battlefield in a steady stream.

Anxious Grenadier 19 twisted her body uneasily. She was waiting for No. 0 to take action and eliminate the armored giant in front of her.

Looking at No. 0, Grenadier 19 felt that his state had changed, and she sensed an undisguised anger and hatred.

"Sir, may I ask who that person is?"

"Oh? My Lord? I thought you Kriegs were going to call us traitors or something... It was easier than I thought. You let me down a little."

"Is that person's name Amaraga?"

"Ok?"

Dantic took a few steps back and drew the weapon from his waist. The remaining 20 or so Iron Warriors also aimed their bolt guns at No. 0 who asked such a strange question.

"How do you know the names of my men? Are you a wizard from Tzeentch in disguise?"

"No, sir... I just have a grudge against him..."

Traitors are divided into Chaos and traitors, and Chaos is divided into believers and disbelievers. The Iron Warriors are the disbelievers.