Warhammer: Start with a dog

The Iron Warriors advanced in standard tactical formation along the passage.

Ten thousand years.

Everyone feels that the long-lost blood and vitality are moving along the pace of their progress - every breath, every falling step, something from ten thousand years ago is resurrecting along the blood vessels and nerves, like hot lava Restarting turns the magma channels of extinct volcanoes into the same red destruction, and the silent rusted steel is on its way to his forge and anvil.

Even though they knew there was a good chance that there was only one person in each other.

A new recruit.

A new recruit with the face of Rogal Dorn.

Both Soltarn and Dassadra put on their Terminator armor. The traces of countless battles in the past were intact on it, but the inside of the armor had been repaired. They led the team in silence. Although each of them already knew the terrain data of this place well, their sensors were still shining with the same lights that worked frequently before every battle.

"Soltarn." Dashadra's voice suddenly sounded in the communication channel. This was unusual, because the war blacksmiths - especially the Guards officer corps who were qualified to get close to Perturabo, were actually the vast majority. There was a tense state of competition for part of the time, with each of them trying to be promoted to a position in the Trident that the Primarch would be proud of.

At the beginning, others will only compete for the remaining two positions of the trident, because the first one undoubtedly belongs to Kydomor Forrix.

But after ten thousand years, everything has changed, things have changed, and the Fourth Army has essentially become a ball of loose sand.

But it's different now.

The Primarch walked out of his iron palace.

The Iron Blood set sail again, flying across the galaxy carrying their genetic father.

Now that Aharin firmly occupies the last position of the Trident, the other two positions that have not yet been appointed naturally begin to become carrots dangling in front of everyone's eyes.

Private communications between warsmiths would virtually never occur under these circumstances, but Soltarn does have a knack for being different.

Ever since he was the company's adjutant thousands of years ago, he had been favored by the Primarch for his unique and powerful talents. However, the Primarch never proposed to promote him to the Trident, and the Stoneforger never thought of this. He was very calm and even-tempered, to the point where Dassadra suspected that he actually had no desire to serve as the Primarch's trident.

Therefore, communicating with Soltarn became the only and reasonable thing.

The unique sound from the old mason's damaged vocal cords sounded through the communicator, "What's the matter, Dasadra."

"I...I don't know." Dassadra hesitated for 0.01 second, and temporarily replaced "Do you think our plan can be executed smoothly" with "How long do you think it will take us to capture the infirmary and the new recruit?"

Soltarn did not answer the question directly. He simply replied, "Just do it, Dassadra, we are the Iron Warriors. If you are confused, recite the Iron Litany."

There is one last corner left before the pharmacist's workshop.

——

Parogov has never been so calm. He even has a strange perception. On one side is himself who is organizing a defense with terrifying calmness and efficient use of any possible resources at hand, and on the other side is himself who is quietly observing all this.

The pharmacist apprentice was the second recruit to leave the surgical dormant cabin. From the beginning, he followed Honso to learn pharmacy and medical knowledge without being with anyone else.

His teacher always said that the fighting and shooting knowledge he personally imparted to his young apprentices was enough for the time being. Once he gained more knowledge about apothecary skills and sharpened them in the training ground, there would be no big problem.

His work is always arranged in an orderly manner by himself and he uses his time accurately to every minute. The only activity related to relaxation may be to go to the library with Julius. For him, checking information and reading are A rather comfortable way to relax.

Parogov rarely even goes to the cafeteria to pick up meals during busy hours. He always goes early, gets enough for himself and his teacher, and then returns to the laboratory to continue working.

Therefore, he didn't know where the instinctive master-level combat and defense knowledge came from in his mind.

While he started to defend, he also contacted Julius on the other side through a private channel. The latter promised to come immediately and find a way to contact the Chapter Leader and the others.

Until then Parogov only had to defend himself and the teacher here for nine minutes.

But this is really perfect. The entire defense layout is centered around the medical room where the patient is located, from the inside out, and is designed according to the specifications of multiple defense lines and multiple doors. It cleverly makes use of all terrain and sight angles. These defenses are designed for the purpose It is to completely devour the person who will offend, without being restrained or restrained by any morality or theory at all——

Parogov stuffed the last biological reagent bottle into the pipe ballista modified with a mechanical injection arm, and suddenly shuddered.

A thought stabbed into his mind like a terrible, poisonous dagger.

What a terrible situation would it be if such a powerful force decided not to choose the empire?

Suddenly a noble, strong but extremely exhausted voice almost gave up sounded from the defense line.

"So now it's over and you don't have to suffer for it anymore. There's no more control. He's won and you're free, my son, to do what you have to do."

Parogov's hair roots exploded with fear, adrenaline and other hormones causing him to quickly back away and draw his sword with an inhuman agility.

But there was nothing behind him.

A strong sense of sarcasm, bitterness, self-deprecation and an even stronger sense of emptiness and powerlessness hit him.

His heart seemed to be squeezed tightly by the coldness of despair.

Before darkness took over, Parogov suddenly realized that the sound came from his own vocal cords.

——

"What do you mean, are you going to disobey me? Julius."

Incense was lit in the private reading room, and Thousand Sons, the curator of the Silver Skull Think Tank, was leaning leisurely on his couch, a piece of furniture with one armrest between a sofa and a single bed, with his head above his head. There are several servo skulls floating around him, reading books for him.

The director of the think tank himself was holding a bunch of dates dipped in powdered sugar and eating them while looking at them.

His apprentice stood opposite him, anxious and determined.

Emmenut was still comforting Julius, "I just did another calculation and the omen given by Tarot is that everything goes well. I think this matter will be resolved well in the end. Why do you rush to cause trouble? "

Julius simply didn't know how to explain it to his teacher.

Fortunately, the master prophet seemed to be very tolerant of his apprentice, and finally promised Julius that he could sneak out by himself, and he just pretended that he "didn't see it."

Very nice change. Emmenut drew the attention of the mech with a psychic snap of his fingers, and watched as his apprentice slipped out of the room covered in a magical phantom.

As soon as he left the station, Julius immediately ran towards where Parogov was.

"Parogov! Hold on! I'll be there soon! Only nine minutes!"

dead (dead)

I was informed that I must update to 100,000 before noon...

I don’t know this rule at all! (Screaming) I was so scared that I only slept for four hours and got up to code. My computer was about to crash.

I really don’t have any. Anyway, I hope you all have enough tickets to save some for me next month. I can use them on the day they go on sale on December 1st (I don’t know if they are used like this?). Thank you, thank you, thank you very much...