Warhammer: I am the Hammer of the Empire

The scenes seen by the skull were too blasphemous for people to believe. After the chaotic and twisted mutations and terrifying weirdness, the Skadi thought they had completely mastered the most terrifying thing in the universe, and Merlo The first time Wen appeared, the brief scene of being muddy and distorted also made Skadi's soldiers tremble.

"Is that thing a demon?" When someone asked that question, even if Alan Bayer was well-informed and could face the nature of the world in subspace, he couldn't help but feel a little surprised when he saw the thing. .

"Ask the skull to come back and pass the relevant data and information to the Foundry Governor and the Provisional Military Department. Then tomorrow night, he will ask for a blitzkrieg."

"They don't have many cold-proof clothes. Send the video of the skull to the hive and ask the Mechanicus to provide their macro branches to help them suppress the infantry. I'll do it, staff officer."

"The 113th Armored Regiment of Phlaxia, the 1st Armored Regiment of Pangia, are preparing to encircle the enemy. During that time, the greenskins cannot leave the monitoring range of the Imperial Guard!"

Alan Beyer picked up his water glass, took out the caffeine from his tactical belt, stirred and shook it, which not only refreshed and replenished water, but also signaled and prepared for war. "They have four hours, hurry up, hurry up, hurry up, don't waste it, don't doubt it."

The artillery shells are in the car, the weapons are replenished, the food is ready, the trench tools or the communication devices are ready. The Imperial Guard will not hesitate. They are ready for war in the shortest possible time. Over and over again, if the Emperor allows it, they will beg the general. His anger spread far and sharp.

Isn't that the first time the Imperial Guard has done this? When the entire group of the race is trying to kill them, can that race really be called justice?

The gods were enjoying that kind of universe, but humans had no choice but to shoot, shoot, shoot, and kill. The moment Alan Bair picked up the communicator, he made up his mind and asked for help. May any massacre be carried out east of his command.

But he had been sending out invitations to the Mechanicus for a long time, and no sage had responded to him for about an hour. Alan Bair felt good about it, and his communicator hit the headquarters of the Mechanicus directly, making the sound of a grille. Appeared, the servitor used the most primitive method as an adapter to ensure that the governor would not be disturbed at will.

"My lord, you do not have access rights."

Alan Bair asked immediately. "Isn't his governor's hotline turned on? Where are the privileges agreed upon?"

"And he sent out an invitation and a meeting request in a set of logo formats an hour ago. He doesn't believe that there are so many guests in my remote world!" He doesn't like the Mechanicus or that problem. Their external network is very exclusive. They often say one thing but do another. When it comes to chicken intestines, those non-humans did really well, far exceeding the emperor's expectations for them.

And he was still not satisfied with that matter, even if the priest over there emphasized it emotionally. "I'm sorry, my lord."

He still said in disgust. "He asked for something and connected with the Governor. He needed Hongzhi's help. He ordered me, Servant, in the name of Captain Skadi."

The servitor made a strong noise after a brief pause. Even though Alan Bayer couldn't see clearly what was happening over there, he still felt the entanglement of that thing. Although their emotions had been suppressed after turning into machines, their actions were still unclear. Becoming rigid and guessing is ultimately because a large number of neurons and contacts in the brain have been modified.

Whether they are human beings or not is still a question mark, but the Mechanicus has been working hard in that world for a long time, and the Hongzhi composed of the huge power accumulated from the East and countless servitors are the best help, and nothing can replace it.

No matter how much he likes it, Alan Bayer must get permission and help from the governor to increase the success rate. He looked at the terrifying body of the twisted steel dragon in the picture. He could feel that the monster was not completed, but otherwise Soon, if the Imperial Guard don't seize the opportunity, they will lose it.

When the poor servitor dialed the message under the pressure of the Supreme Commander of the Imperial Guard, it was hard to imagine how those messy and brief electrical signals just flashed in front of a great sage like the Founding Governor, but that servitor Affirming the risk of Mei Xuan's death, the old voice flashed out from the grille, and the language had no intention of hiding.

"I'm sorry, guest of the Imperial Guard. Is he really tired of research and obsessed with knowledge? Please forgive his stupidity before he expresses enough apology for his rashness. Your most loyal servant, h.b (abbreviation, Hanbo) ).”

As the saying goes, people become better with age. The guy who was doing Tai Chi with a servitor just now is now talking openly and honestly, as if he should be like this. On the contrary, Alan Bayer's call seems abrupt and inhumane.

"Shut up your mechanical mouth and my grille, listen now, my world is being threatened, and he just gave me the scene of the skull detection a standard Terra hour ago, but otherwise I just arranged it Did a servitor disgust him? "

"What about my God of All Machines? I can see that dragon very clearly? The twisted heretical creation is wreaking havoc on my land, and my machine servants have failed time and time again. It seems that he needs my power. , but I’m pretending to be stupid?”

The old man answered slowly. "I'm sorry, but his research must not be disturbed. It is related to the future of the empire. Whether any reappearance of ancient technology is a mistake to the praise of the God of All Machines and the praise of the Ohm Messiah."

"Can you use my God to pressure him? There is no Inquisition there, and there may not be a state religion. Even if their private conversations are recorded, he still asks me whether I can send my branch." Alanbair asked directly with a sword drawn. The empire is not united. How can they protect the huge galaxy with those bugs of the Mechanicus...

Disappointment is one thing, war is another, he still said. "They need to go to war."

The old man answered. "He just analyzed the God of All Machines and gears. In algebra and holy oil, he saw the power of that thing." On the other side, the governor used his third leg to hold up the previous report of the Mechanicus and read it. There was even a description of the sage who had directly experienced the power of Merovingian.

[As terrifying as pitch black, the light of the God of All Machines disappeared from his eyes, the eternal mechanical river dried up, and the roar of the bell stopped. When he realized this, he no longer dared to go to war with that existence. He was the incarnation of the Mechanicus. 】

"They won't send troops. Each Mechanicus's servitor has spent a lot of materials and manpower to make treasures." He said so, but looked at the picture sent by Alanbair. The alloy fingers brushed across the image of Merovingian. In the turbid display, he wrote the high Gothic language of the miracle in the wrong position of Merovingian on the picture.

"That, strange thing, according to his calculation, can completely make the servitors of the whole world out of control. He must not let the servitors take risks before he studies the power to counter his witchcraft." The governor said so, but his eyes showed his admiration for Merovingian.

Alanbair was sensitive to the word choice in the Gothic language of that guy. He, it, she, and he had different pronunciations in Gothic language, and the word he also showed the true thoughts of the Mechanicus. He realized that there was no turning point in that matter, and he sighed.

"I see, it's really hard work. If I really study that kind of thing instead of praying to heretics, oh... sorry, his words are a bit strange, to be precise, he has doubts about the Emperor's faith." The governor answered naturally. "Then he will send an application for further study to the nearest Mechanicus bishop world, don't worry about it, if he recommends the Imperial Guard to wait passively, it's better." Alan Baier replied with a smile. "Don't worry, but he will seize the opportunity, he will never let the alien go, he will never allow heresy." He hung up the communication, and his disappointment in the Mechanicus arose spontaneously. For the governor, he saw the Om Messiah, the real one, not the one behind the throne. The one in front of him has its own consciousness and is extremely powerful. It is the real Om Messiah! His pupils showed no emotion, his insect-like face twitched slowly, and he stared at the picture of Merovingian obsessed, and his emotionless voice slowly spoke. "Praise, Om Messiah."

And on the front line, where they are almost close to the enemy, in the most dangerous place, the Imperial Guard, those poor mortal bodies, flesh and blood bodies can't even endure the extreme climate of that world, but they stand in front of the enemy that the Mechanicus dare not touch. The weaker the people, the more obsessed they are with the outside power, and the stronger the people, the weaker they look.

Many people in that world don't know how many miracles those iron-like wills and beliefs can bring, and they often despair in the face of extreme destructive power, and the Emperor loves the strong. He is not as "selfless" as the Chaos Gods. He is a selfish person. He loves his own offspring, compatriots, and powerful people who can help the Empire.

Many people are willing to degenerate because of their external weakness and lack of the Emperor's blessing. Even if they are talented and powerful, it is not the case. The Emperor always knows what kind of people the huge empire needs, people like Alan Bair.

He stood up. "Attention all troops, they have no allies, it's cruel, the Mechanicus Coco is willing to betray, those things are not human, we also know, they should have been prepared, now drive the car, now prepare the weapons, to deny the emperor, they will fight to the end."

"Now, drive the poison blade, carry the weapons, wear heavy clothes, they will raid after the sun rises, the petrified lizards are ready, directly bomb the enemy's base, they must be prepared, so that the firepower is not wasted."

The rumbling of the engine continued, and those restless imperial machine souls couldn't wait to take revenge, to take revenge on those damn things.

After the sun set, the petrified lizards had prepared the trenches. With the efforts of the Skadi and Engalor people, one petrified lizard after another was parked in the long trenches dug by human legs in the fierce moon wearing thick clothes.

The wrath of the Empire is gathering momentum. The Baneblade tanks are approaching with the Lemanus group (with a few railguns mixed in), and the soldiers are moving forward with the Chimera transporters. The power of the Imperial Guard is so huge that even the strongest creatures probably cannot endure such a terrible force.

Ailanbair walked in his Salamander commander's tank, watching the light brought by the rising moon shining on the east of the orc bunker. Those hatreds and grudges will be settled tomorrow.

"Fire, take turns shooting, don't seek to cut off or suppress, Baneblade and Lemanus protect the petrified lizard troops."

After the order, those terrible war weapons buried in the artillery trenches with their barrels exposed began to roar. When the first cannon leg was filled with cannonballs, flames and explosions streaked across the sky and hit the orc base accurately. Bright lights fall to the ground like stars, and attacks continue one after another, representing death and violence.

But soon, the light green waaaagh stance shield blocked those things. The terrifying orc technology's defensive power was so powerful that it could paralyze the shield used by land ships. The explosive force generated by those bombings dissipated without a trace inside the waaaagh stance, just like that. There is a bright green light that wraps the ground like a semicircle, showing the orc base exposed by the bombing.

The rough factory lines of the orcs and the waaagh signs made of broken boards and metal were filled with shivering farts. Many boys were holding tools to repair the holes created by the basilisk bombs. The camp was not small, relying on those Judging from the area covered, it is at least several kilometers. In order to ensure concealment, a few top caves were dug, and the outside resembled a man-made mine.

That looks a bit similar to what the orcs did in the medieval Warhammer, building their own camps and kingdoms in the east of the earth, and One-Eye was the only king of that world in the east.

Alan Bayer looked at those things with a telescope, and twisted and shaking orc mechas began to crawl out of the hole one after another. He knew those things, fear cans, and even their appearance instantly brought back countless memories of Alan.

"Attention everyone, when the orcs are approaching, attack their legs and arms first. The joints between those things are not very stable, so you need explosives to attack them. Otherwise, it will be troublesome if they have too many legs and arms. When you are approached, attack them first. back."

Alan Bair looked at the cans and walked out of the shield as if they were dizzy and drunk. The cans of fear and killing were all painted on things according to the character of the green-skinned pilot. , the only thing they have in common is the one-eyed symbol of the One-Eyed Clan.

Their style of being in the Imperial Guard is gradually fading, but their tactical qualities remain. They advance in neat skirmish lines, with shields and heavily armored Orcs in front, and they like to use cannonballs. The killing cans are behind, and the only difference between them is their size.

But did a political commissar with a broken arm say so. "Greenskin vehicles are far more deadly than their comical appearance."

Alan Beyer agrees with that...

He watched those restless things move forward in coal and black smoke, and then roared. "fire!"

"Warlords of the Witcher World"

An ordinary knight who traveled through the background of the struggle between Nilfgaard and the Northern Realm, Herme did not have a lofty status, let alone a strong power.

He is not qualified to participate in those noble struggles at all, let alone have anything to do with those strange things. He looks like cannon fodder for the East.

But he will still find a way, a way towards greatness and glory. He will change the history of the northern war, and he will become the supreme ruler of the north.

Is this the path to success for warlords, or is it a path of climbing?

I already have a completed novel of 1.5 million words at Qidian, so I can read it with confidence.