Chapter 100 Let’s Draw Lots One by One
Destiny Steel
Hall of the Twelve Temples
The Glorious Queen of the Iron Warriors Legion This once solemn hall full of past glory once again became brightly lit today, because all the Iron Warriors on the Iron Blood - those who can still climb up, have all gathered here.
Just to be inspected by their genetic father again ten thousand years later.
Just from their variously decorated fine power armors, you can see how carefully they have prepared for this - yes, the original Iron Warriors are indeed not known for their carefully decorated appearance, but more of just their original color power armor. A simple and rough brush with black and yellow stripes will do.
But things are different now.
Everyone has obtained a lot of information about the latest situation of the Gene Father from their own private channels. Therefore, there is a situation that no one has seen in the galaxy for ten thousand years.
All the Iron Warriors, veterans of the eternal war who are fortunate enough to accompany the original body - Oh, by the way, through the rejuvenation of a certain potion master, or for some other reason, the chaotic corruption of everyone's limbs has begun to reverse, or it seems that A delicate balance has been achieved between normal limbs; and their height has now increased significantly.
Especially worth mentioning is Aharin. As the only Iron Warriors veteran who has escaped the master's hand, his height and weight are also slowly growing again, but they are slightly different from his unfortunate comrades. , his sturdy and stocky body had grown in size, and he looked more powerful, with arms that could run a horse, making the other colleagues who had been genetically plundered envious.
The taller figures were equipped with armor plating that had been polished to shine, incense-scented armor linings, silver chapter emblems, and carefully groomed hair and beards, as well as slings around the waist. Weapons decorated with gold and silver curls hand-carved by the user, power armor with gold-engraved inscriptions, backpacks, cluster missile launchers and robotic arm edges, decorative studded leather tassels, exquisite tassel ribbons -
One of them, a war blacksmith with the most intricately decorated armor and weapons, was satisfied with his magnificence that stood out from the crowd, and at the same time asked a soul question in confusion: "When did you all believe in the Prince of Darkness? Why didn't I know?" "
Everyone rolled their eyes and threatened death with gestures.
"Wearing armor, with a heart of steel! Obey or die! Blood... We are Iron Warriors! We are not those weak and perverted Slaanesh things!"
"Steel inside and out! Obey or die! Praise my father for his wisdom as deep as the ocean! The combination of knowledge and technology is the most mysterious and powerful! Speaking of which, we haven't seen our think tank director recently? Has he not recovered yet? I Do you want to be the first to break the ice and discuss some technical issues with him?"
"Alas, steel becomes strength, and strength becomes strong will; strong will builds faith, and faith makes tough iron! Life is so wonderful, but you are so irritable, no, no, let's wait quietly here together for our loving father to review. ”
"you……"
At this moment, the astronomical clock placed in front of the hall of the Twelve Temples solemnly struck twenty-two times, announcing the arrival of the eternal, complete, and absolute master of this place.
The veterans bowed their heads respectfully, uneasily, and hopefully in salute to their king, master, and father.
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After reading the last data pad, the giant god who sat high on a throne made of ancient Olympian artworks, war memorabilia, weapons and data cables captured from various enemy leaders, and steel finally spoke.
"So, this is your entire battle plan? Is there anything else you want to say?"
The Iron Warriors in the hall lowered their heads slightly to show respect for the Iron Lord, and breathed heavily.
More than one Iron Warrior secretly shifted his weight in the power armor uneasily.
"Don't even speak?"
Aharin stood on the platform next to the huge throne of the Iron Lord. While he was glad that he was not wearing a helmet, he used his eyes to wink at all his peers in the audience - he did not dare to say more or make any small noises. Code, doing this kind of thing at such a distance from their genetic father is undoubtedly a perfect example of seeking death.
Sitting on another special seat next to the throne, but today connected with a lot of extra cables and switches, the Contemptor Dreadnought seemed to emit a very light snort or sneer, and the sign on it was moving at super high speed. The data stream beams and floating points for information exchange continued to flash violently, but other than that there was no more movement.
"Okay, don't say anything, right?" They heard their genetic father speak again, his mellow bass now sounding like the deepest nightmare and despair demon possessing him, "Then, let's smoke one by one. Just sign it.”
A bloody and terrifying distant legend or memory suddenly struck many people's minds.
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It is now the thirtieth Terran Hour since the Iron Warriors Gathering in the Halls of the Twelve Temples.
The war blacksmith Shanto sat there with a dull look in his eyes. His helmet had been taken off, and a lot of crystal sweat slid uncontrollably along his jaw line, and dripped into the ravines of his thick neck armor, steaming. There are bursts of heat.
"I can't stand it anymore...don't come again..."
"What are you talking about! Come again! Come again! As the ruler of Malordarax and the warsmith of the Sons of the Forge, is this all you have?! Come again!"
"No...you...I...I really can't do it anymore..."
Shanto groaned for the last time, slid off the chair and collapsed on the ground, his hands and feet twitching uncontrollably due to the excessive high-speed overload of the brain in a short period of time.
"Tsk, carry it away! Carry it away! Next!"
The steady footsteps of the stone forger appeared opposite "Perturabo", and the old stonemason still performed a completely etiquette-free courtesy to their gene father.
"Oh, it's Soltarn, I hope you can give me some other surprises this time."
"I hope so too, my beloved father." The old stonemason raised his eyelids from behind his respirator mask.
"Then, enter your battlefield information and start simulating data."
"Before we start, my lord, can I know more data?"
The Iron Primarch on the opposite side, who had already entered a state of complete interest, narrowed his eyes, "Oh? All the basic information has been used and marked by the people before you, right? What do you mean?"
Soltarn replied calmly, "I want to know if my team can bring an extra new blood in this simulated battle."
"Hmm? Interesting request, Soltarn, I thought you didn't like these guys very much."
"If they can bring us better, faster and bigger victories, then I really don't mind other things, my master."
"Of course," he saw his gene father showing an appreciative smile on the opposite side, "Bringing an extra pharmacist is a smart choice, Soltarn."
He knew he was probably right.
Quack.
I thought I could write until the two armies entered the sensor scanning distance, but I found that I couldn't write it [Turn to the next page]