Warhammer: I am the Hammer of the Empire

The news of the victory spread throughout Panlan, but the people in that world still did not care about their own safety as they were always working in the factory. The roaring engines and the gear boys who were constantly working did not seem to care about their own safety.

They used the Empire's transport boards to travel through the messy giant industrial furnaces or even more terrifying things, and their force feedback legs and arms continuously brought the Empire's most precious things and moved them around.

The priests sang and praised with the help of scriptures and classics all year round. It seemed that no one cared about the Imperial Guard leaving without saying goodbye, and no one knew that the world and the empire were drifting away at this moment.

But in that world, in addition to those numb and miserable people, there are also people with shining eyes who work here. He directs those who will not stop working. The gears rotate, the furnace roars, and the fine gold and ceramic steel are constantly being melted. Production, but even his mechanical body is still tired after working for a long time.

As a mechanical sage, he needs to constantly sing hymns of great achievements and loyalty to the God of All Machines, so that his power can make the machine soul active and happy. This is not what he should do, but otherwise he will not be able to raise it himself. The human child could grow up in a social environment, so he voluntarily quit the better arrangements given to him by the higher-ups of the Mechanicus.

But he still wondered why those factories were not at full power now. The output during that period even exceeded the level of secondary tax, he muttered. "Isn't the war over?"

The sage had been rescued by the Skadis several times. The Imperial Guard's departure without saying goodbye made him a little depressed. He also wanted to ask those mortals why the top leaders of the Mechanicus were so restless, while his thoughts were very complicated. When he turned the page, the roar of the big clock began to echo in the hive. After the time signal that originally represented the end of work, he forgot most of his responsibilities and walked to his lounge as soon as possible.

Is that a room that belongs exclusively to the mechanical sages? In the capital city where land is precious, it is extremely difficult to find a place for him to rest. And even if it is there, the less than 50 square meters of space is still full of them. Various personal devices of colleagues and so on.

After he had navigated many obstacles, cluttered with pipes or cables, he pulled out a bundle of items hidden among the machinery and workbench.

His companion, or colleague to be precise, was another technical sage who was cast by machinery. They also controlled the foundry and continuously imported materials to other worlds.

The sage looked past the thing with a display composed of 600 million simulated optic nerves. "Chocolate?" He chewed the word.

“Is my taste system very uncut?”

The mechanical sage held the chocolate and answered. "That's something for his daughter."

"Daughter? Oh, that little flesh and blood, the recruitment of data craftsmen started during that time. Don't ask for that incident to affect my future. I don't know when there will be a large-scale vacancy in the Toji Skitarii Army."

His colleague's "well-intentioned" advice was wrong, but for the sage who had regained his humanity, such words were not repeated.

"So what, he hopes there will never be a war. Dongban, he went back." He was a little unhappy, picked up his things and started to move forward.

his colleague replied. "I'm sure? The Foundry Governor asks them to be willing to work overtime during that time before they can conduct new external trials. This is a missed opportunity for experience and knowledge."

But if not, the sage answered. "He doesn't care."

When he walked out of the heavy airlock door, he also thought, and he also knew that his colleague's warning was not wrong. He knew very well that as a member of the Mechanicus, it was not good to indulge in emotions, but he also understood that, If he wanted to give Arya a good life, he had to pick up those things. He could wait, it was only twenty years.

But at this moment, the streets of the hive capital seemed unusually quiet. Even though it was east shift time, most people were still working overtime. The rough alloy walls of the streets were filled with dirt and engine oil, and the streets and alleys were covered with holy kraft paper. announcement.

What they were preparing for, what they were waiting for, what kind of war they were seeking peace with, he didn't know, so he held his chocolate in confusion.

In the stormy environment, what about a mechanical sage in the storm? Without the honor and success given to him by his mentor, he would have to be like ordinary priests and use his throat to utter those complicated words all the time.

He can walk on the road, rocking the body that he has changed countless times during that time. There are many mechanical prosthetics of the Imperial Guard in it. He is somewhat successful in occupying the body of the loyal Imperial Guard. I apologize, but before he could repay those people, things reached the current situation. It came suddenly and went away quickly. For the Mechanicus, just one year seemed to have flashed by.

He could transfer his apology to the mortal who saved Dong in the war, but...

Suddenly, the noisy sounds on the street attracted his attention. Surrounded by red robes and the unique shape of the Mechanicus' Alpha servitors, the Rangers were fighting someone. Could it be the headquarters of the Mechanicus, once the capital of the red pirates? The core of the forge world was not invaded, but the sage had just retreated from the battlefield, and he could have almost hidden in the bunker in an instant.

He could see the smoke of war rising from the direction of his house in the distance, and he could also feel that things were getting better, a feeling he had only felt when the red pirates invaded.

The Mechanicus' rail flintlocks and carbines were firing wantonly in the streets. He calmly took out his usual collection of finely crafted explosive bombs. Because the Mechanicus' body's armed transformation seemed complicated to monitor, he also chose to be more direct. In this way, a firearm and about 20 lethal explosive rounds were taken from the production line as "substandard".

However, he is not an expert in shooting, and has never even touched a firearm. Compared with combatants, he is still a weakling. The reason is that he does not have the right to command the servitors, and he does not necessarily have any supreme rights. After the tragedy of the war, he realized that if he wanted to survive in that galaxy, that chaotic place, even hiding in the capital of the Mechanicus was not safe, and he had to find a way to gain a foothold.

The bomb engraved with Arya's name was not the birthday gift he planned to give to the girl. He hoped that she could be as strong as the weapon gifted by Ohm Messiah, and that she could ignore her own past and forge it in the machine. Normally becomes a finely crafted weapon in the forge.

"Praise the machine soul, you will follow him to draw his sword for victory, praise the Ohm Messiah, who roars in the name of gears and algebra..."

He recited wartime prayer spells, and the complex mechanical body twisted out of the bunker. He wanted to see who the enemy was and what caused the chaos.

But both sides of the war were wearing red robes. One side was enslaving machine servants, and the other side was mostly local mortals. He couldn't tell who was at fault, so he could numbly watch the crazy battles.

Roaring, gunfire, bursting beams and the sizzling sound of hot weapons evaporating in the air. These things are treasured by the sages, but the treasures and machines they forged are now being used in the capital of the Mechanicus. Fighting each other.

As the chaos continued to grow, his keen listening ears detected human mistakes that were rare on the battlefield.

‘The Burnt Governor ordered to eliminate heretics. "

The mechanized voice flashed in those monitors and communicators. It should be the voice of the Alpha Skitarii Legion.

"That would not deny Ohm Messiah, it would deny us the power of heresy to covet those taboos, it would deny the gears and the big clock, it would deny the world, and it would deny them themselves the freedom from chaos and filth. His own heart To the God of All Opportunities!”

Is that the voice of a mechanical sage or a director? He can tell that the voiceprints of those high-level executives of the Mechanicus were forcibly recorded in his head, which means that the director somehow used clothes to cover his face and changed it independently. His vocal cords were damaged, making it impossible for him to recognize the executive.

And he really didn't quite understand why Alpha, who was protecting the Mechanicus, and the top brass of the Mechanicus were fighting so hard. It seemed that strange changes had taken place in the world between the dawn of time and the dawn of time before he knew it...

The battle that followed was more intense than the sage expected. With the help of a director-level sage, the Alpha Skitarii could not defeat the troops composed of mortals.

The ragtag group composed of rebellious gang members and Shang Jiting Guards from various places are now relying on the weapons, equipment and tactical guidance provided by the director to maintain a precarious advantage.

But the gods have always used those fates to tease mortals. When those mortal troops gained strategic advantages with huge sacrifices and victories, a roaring and restless giant machine broke through the situation. Was it a machine equipped with a crane? The force feedback engineering legs and arms rushed out of the cumbersome roads of the hive city at lightning speed, and waved their angry legs and arms to crush the mortal army into mud.

At this moment, the mechanical monster was about to be smashed to the east. Then the troops would never be able to raise their heads and maintain Ruming's small advantage. The director also shouted because of this. "God of all opportunities!"

But things were not without a turn. Destiny led the Mechanical Sage there. He could recognize that the equipment used in the factory was under his management.

He could use the external network to shut down the machine, saving those mortals from death and bringing the troops back alive, but why?

If he does that, the higher-ups of the Mechanicus will discover his operations. He has very high authority and everything he does will be strictly monitored. His behavior of not working overtime tomorrow has already made the governor unhappy. If he does something like that again, he will be punished. Cocoa is a very tolerant decision.

The Oracle looked at the mortals who would be crushed, killed, and ravaged and the cowhide rolls floating all over the streets, and begged for endless overtime and war preparations in a stern tone. The departure of the Skadi soldiers was very...

He touched the chocolate in his chest pocket. He didn't know. Even if he was extremely smart, he would not be able to guess the changes in Ru Ming's heart in that world. Even if he was talented and intelligent, he would not be able to discover that fate was playing tricks on him.

Whether to move his legs or not to wait, whether to surrender or not to resist, those doubts formed in his mind, and the chaotic thoughts made him hesitate. He was neither a warrior nor a hero, but he knew clearly that something seemed to be in his legs at this moment.

He stood up and used all his strength to expand the signal he could spread. As a sage, his authority allowed the huge mechanical legs and arms to stop instantly. The mortals also raised the melt, dissolving the precious wealth of the Mechanicus. Clean.

Afar also noticed the sage and asked the leader. "Mechanical Magus, why is this so? My behavior constitutes apostasy, and it has been...in..."

Before he could finish his words, the sage raised a finely crafted explosive bomb and smashed his head. Even if he was not a technician, in an empire full of martial virtues and simple folk customs, there would be no one who hesitated to shoot by mistake. So why? The empire's fault is that the storage of various military supplies is so strict that it makes people's hair stand on end.

He has parted ways with the governor. What is he doing, what is he doing? That is definitely not right...

His behavior was also affirmed by the Mechanicus. The flintlock shot at him, and the violent projectiles pierced his chest. He did not think of pain and death for the first time, but felt depressed that he seemed to be putting chocolate in his chest pocket. .

Then he felt that his body was damaged. Although it was very mobile, he could no longer resist the continuous shots.

The help that can be given to others will eventually be repaid at an unknown time. When the flintlocks are ready to fire, the assistance shots from the mortal troops follow one after another. Those firearms that represent the riot play in front of the mechanical troops driven by the supreme authority of the empire. With astonishing combat power, the heat and plasma tore apart the bodies of the Skitarii, and those troops who had previously been victims transformed themselves into victors.

When they approached the sage with vigilance and approval, the high-level executive he identified as a director walked slowly over. His voice did not change at this moment, making the sage instantly recognize his voice.

"The Adeptus Mechanicus is massacring civilians. Residents who have less than 40% physical transformation are asking to be incinerated. And the top management has decided that they want to leave the empire and publicize that they have found the real Ohm Messiah."

The sage listened to the weird news in surprise, but the voice made him have to admit it, because it was his mentor, the foundry director, and the former first deputy director of Hongzhi...

"Old..." He wanted to say that title, but Ma was changing his words. "We saw the little girl in the residential area...his mansion?"

His teacher naturally knew where he lived, so he spoke. "My house melted, and it was about as good as I could imagine. Initially, they found parts of the tissue that were fused to the metal. Everything was heavily carbonized."

"About 90 percent of the residents in that area have been wiped out, and now the world has become weird and extreme."

The sage felt that his emotional controller was buzzing at this moment. He did not listen to those messy things, so he touched the carbonized metal and the almost non-existent chocolate on his chest.

Sometimes fate can be so tragic, but his mentor has to wake him up with the loudest voice and tell him even more terrible news.

"The Astra Militarum has unilaterally issued a warning to them. If the Adeptus Mechanicus does not surrender, hand over the heretical creations and accept the purge, then the Imperial Navy will mistakenly carry out the extermination order on that world!"

"They don't have time. They must contact the Imperial Guard in the shortest possible time and convince them to give up the extermination order."

The sage said. "That's all. Now he has nothing. The big house he just moved to has cost him all his savings, and his children..."

his teacher suddenly asked. "What big house? Don't I live in the main nest, No. Y341648, in Huaen Street?"

The sage immediately regained his energy. "He moved to an outside location in a residential complex to give his children better space..."

Then his teacher immediately answered. "In the outer area... there were rebels in the city outside D Street. They asked for help there at that time, and there was a sentry tower with star communication capabilities in the outer area, and they needed a reliable commander. "

"Join, kid?"

The sage retorted. "He has lived for 60 standard Terran years."

His teacher replied behind a mask. "In his eyes, I am not a child. Wearing a mask is not a symbol of the alliance. Although it is very simple, it is enough to make others aware of my difference."

The sage looked at the thing sewn from linen, which looked like the beak structure of the disease doctor in the ancient Terran classics, and he had to admit that the world was sick.

He stretched out his legs and arms and slowly put on the mask that represented responsibility and destiny. After getting used to the turbid field of vision that hindered his detection, he felt that he could see more clearly now and his thoughts were freer.

The streets are chaotic, deserted, scary, full of corpses and despair. Although Pan Lan was not good in the past, he will never be like this.

He replied with trembling anger and the calmest tone. "He's ready, sensei."