I'm in Warhammer, I just want to grow mushrooms

Chapter 207: The Bone Drinkers' Initiation Ceremony
The orc's saliva was flying, and his thick, sausage-like lips were shaking up and down with his exaggerated movements, and his expression was extremely mocking.

Zilanka was annoyed:
"Shoot! Kill this damn orc!"

“Da da da da——”

The shuttle's machine guns hissed, and a barrage of bullets rained down on the edge of the cave.

The orc let out a strange cry and hid behind the mud, unharmed.

When the machine gun stopped spraying bullets, it stuck its head out again to taunt the shrimps in the sky, which made Zilanka so angry that he ordered the macro artillery team to bomb the entrance of the cave.

After a round of volleys, the entrance of the cave was blown into a deep pit, with a large amount of rubble scattered around, but no bodies of the dwarf orcs were seen.

Zranka angrily slapped the fence, turned around and bowed to the wandering trader on the throne:
"My lord, I request to mobilize sailors to go to the ground to clean up the battlefield. They will help us lure out the orcs."

"You want to use the sailor as bait?" Brissot frowned.

Zilanka was resolute and used to baiting:
"My lord, this will be a good idea, believe me. I suspect that the orcs on this planet have the habit of living in caves. Compared to the ground, they prefer the underground environment. Therefore, when the battle situation is unfavorable to them, they will retreat underground according to their habits. I suggest luring them to the ground to fight, so that we can gain air superiority."

Brissot hesitated, but not because of the sailor's life or death.

Don't think too highly of the Rogue Traders in the Warhammer world.

They are not symbols of civilization, but more like legal privateers, sophisticated egoists who put profit above all else, and barbarians in civilized disguise.

The life or death of the sailors is not important. The key point is that purchasing new crew members requires throne coins.

This amount of money is not a small sum, probably tens of thousands of Throne Coins.

"Oh, yes, I almost forgot." Brissot remembered something:

"Didn't Wilsi promise me before that he would bear half of the losses after the battle was won?"

"Yes, sir, that is indeed the clause in the contract."

Brissot stroked his palms and smiled slightly, with a cunning light flashing in his eyes:
"What are you waiting for, Zranka? Use bait to lure out the greenskins and catch them all in one fell swoop."

"Yes, sir." Zranka pounded his chest and saluted, then turned to face the crew below and gave a series of orders.

Soon, personnel shuttles took off from various ships.

The Rogue Trader's fleet does not have a large inventory of individual weapons.

On the one hand, mutinies occasionally occurred in the fleet, and illegally circulated weapons would embolden the rebels.

On the other hand, the maintenance and repair of weapons is an expense that can be saved. As long as the regular combatants have guns to use, the sailors and the like can only deal with wrenches and screws.

For these two reasons, the sailors sent to the surface by shuttles were not equipped with weapons.

The overseer told them that the orcs on the ground had been eliminated, and the merciful Rogue Trader needed manpower to clean up the battlefield. Those who participated in the cleanup could choose five items as rewards.

In this way, a group of ragged and unarmed sailors arrived at the devastated ground from the low-ground orbit and happily picked up the supplies on the ground.

Orcs have a very strong sense of territory, and they especially don't like anyone running into their territory and running wild.

Two thousand sailors were partying on the battlefield, angering the orcs underground, and several greenskin armies rushed out of the caves.

There is a distance between the sailors and the orcs, which is the only buffer zone that can provide protection for the sailors.

The shuttle's machine guns and the ship's macro guns roared at the same time, bang bang bang, snap bang, and the explosions resounded through the sky.

All the orcs who came to the ground were killed. A small number of sailors were affected by the explosion and fell to the ground screaming in pain. The rest of the sailors were frightened silly.

This is different from what the supervisor said.

Weren't the orcs destroyed?
Why are there orcs coming out from underground?
"Damn it! We were tricked!"

"The damn Rogue Trader is using us as bait!"

"The empire's nobles are worse than pigs and dogs!"

"Brothers! Pick up the orcs' guns and hide in the woods!"

The sailors mutinied, and some of the people in the crowd took the lead in picking up guns and fleeing to the dense forest not far away.

A volley of bullets was fired, executing the leader on the spot.

The shuttle's broadcast sounded above the sailors' heads:
"Stay where you are. This is the master's order. Just stay where you are, and our machine guns and macro cannons will protect you. The master said that those who survive will receive a generous reward."

The tragic death of their leader chilled the sailors' hearts. They looked at each other with despair in their eyes, but they did not dare to act on their own and could only stand there like wooden men.

Another group of orcs rushed out from underground.

The machine guns and macro cannons exploded again.

The sailors squatted and kept close to the ground to avoid the deadly shock waves and fragments.

After round after round of bombing, the area near the cave entrance was filled with orc corpses. Most of the sailors were killed by the continuous shock waves. Those who survived by chance were deaf, had bloody eyes, and were unconscious.

Several armed shuttles landed, and Captain Malik led the guards and marines to burn the orcs' bodies and collect the spoils.

The supervisors in the team checked the conditions of the sailors one by one.

The sailors who lost their ability to work embraced death.

The sailors with all their limbs were stuffed into shuttles and transported to the lower deck of the ship, where they would spend the rest of their lives in sewage pipes.

The Rogue Trader did give a reward, but what does that have to do with the lower-level sailors?

The overseer would pocket the reward, share it privately with the guards, and stuff the sailors into the closed lower deck cabin so that they would never see the Rogue Trader again.

The high-ranking nobles of the empire want efficiency, order and profit, not praise from ants - unless such praise can bring profits.

On the other side, after Malik ordered his men to burn the orcs' bodies, he walked around the blazing fire and entered a cave deep underground.

The cruiser's Auger matrix was unable to scan areas below 300 meters underground, so the task of scouting the orcs' movements fell to Malik's guards.

Malik and his two lieutenants wore customized power armor, and the rest of the team wore shell armor, with power backpacks and breathing masks, and used heavy grenade launchers as weapons.

This team has both mobility and firepower, and killed all the orcs they encountered along the way.

Soon, they arrived more than 350 meters underground and were deeply shocked by the scene there.

"Oh my Terra!"

"The orcs actually dug out a cave covering such a vast area!"

The Squig grease burned in the candlesticks, illuminating the caves of tens of thousands of square meters. The ground was covered with the excrement of Squigs, Fart Spirits, and Orcs. The environment was extremely dirty and the air was terrible, making people suffocate.

Everyone turned on the air circulation system inside the armor to exclude the stench and toxic gases, and carefully explored the cave.

All the orcs on this level have died. They were led to the ground by the sailors and died in the orbital bombardment.

At the end of the cave, everyone found an entrance leading deeper underground.

After some discussion, Malik sent three people to the ground to send a message, while he led his men to continue exploring the way.

They followed the spiral downward passage to the second level of the cave and saw the mechanical workshop and leather-making workshop.

Here, they encountered resistance from the orcs.

A large number of Boom Boys are lying in ambush at the end of the spiral passage.

The channel outlet is funnel-shaped.

When Malik and others walked out of the passage, the 120-degree field of vision in front of them was full of Boom Boys hiding behind the bunkers.

“Da da da da——————”

The logging guns whistled like tearing paper, and bullets came in like an overwhelming force.

Malik and his group fled back to the spiral passage in a panic, and fought with the orcs against the wall.

"My lord, there are too many orcs!"

A team member was breathing heavily, and his voice was intermittent in the internal communication channel.

Another person was hit in the left arm by a dense rain of bullets, and a dozen dents appeared on his ceramic steel arm armor, causing him to gasp in pain:

"These damn greenskins are waiting for us here! My lord, I suggest you go back and move the heavy weapons platform over here! Otherwise, it will be difficult for us to break through their firepower network!"

"And the shield generator! The heavy weapons platform must be protected by a shield before it can be used!"

"How many orcs are there underground?! Why do I feel like they are endless!"

The communication channel was filled with noise and the team's morale hit a low point.

Malik turned off the communication rights of the rest of the people and said impatiently:
"Everyone shut up. Take turns to cover the evacuation and maintain suppressive fire."

The group retreated while firing.

Suddenly, a loud rumbling sound came from the spiral passage above, and the vibration caused by the explosion quickly spread down, causing the ceiling to shake violently, and sand and stones fell. Everyone's faces changed, and they retreated in a hurry, only to find in horror that the passage leading to the top had collapsed, and the passage was almost filled with stones and soil.

What made them even more frightened was that a dozen strange-looking orcs appeared below.

They are over three meters tall, with huge muscles, skin that glows a strange red, and they wear hideous helmets with horns and skulls hanging on the horns.

The crudely made ceramic steel armor on them looked like paper at first glance, but it demonstrated amazing defensive power.

The power hammers in their hands emit low roars, like death knells, with a strong sense of oppression.

"Fire! Fire! Don't let them rush over!"

Malik shouted an order.

More than a dozen heavy bolters spewed out furious flames, and the bolt bullets crackled against the armor of the red orcs, and bright sparks exploded one after another.

The red orcs formed a formation and walked side by side, like an impenetrable wall of muscle.

They moved forward steadily, without any fear, each step was in the rhythm of the human heartbeat, and even the bolt bullets could not stop them.

"Throw the melta grenade!"

Malik screamed.

As soon as the two lieutenants pulled out their grenades, they saw the red orcs approaching at lightning speed, and the metal hammer head was rapidly magnified on their retinas.

"boom!"

"boom!"

With two dull thuds, the armor of the two adjutants collapsed. The powerful power hammer actually smashed their ceramic steel breastplates.

Everyone was horrified and frantically pulled the trigger while screaming, but to no avail.

The red orcs wielded their icy weapons, ruthlessly harvesting the lives of the shrimps, and knocking their enemies to death like playing whack-a-mole.

Blood splattered with the dull sound of a blunt instrument hitting someone, broken limbs and internal organs splattered outward, and the walls and the ground were all crimson.

Malik was the only one who survived at the scene, but this was not a blessing, but the beginning of a nightmare.

The red orc ripped off his helmet and power backpack, making him kneel on his knees to greet a mysterious man in a humiliating posture.

The moment he saw this person, Malik shouted in amazement:
"What the hell! How could there be a human here? Who are you?!"

"Quiet."

The mysterious man came in front of Malik, his face full of Kochis features was peaceful and exuded a faint sacred aura.

The red orcs around all knelt down and bowed their heads to the mysterious man, like devout believers listening to his teachings.

This scene completely shocked Malik.

The mysterious man was wearing a white robe for researchers and a pair of square-framed glasses. His eyes were wise and gentle, and his voice was deep and mellow:

"Blessed One, I am Mocha, the messenger between gods and mortals, the shuttle on the loom of fate."

"Mo...Mocha." Malik swallowed hard and barely regained his ability to think:
"What do you want to do? As a human, why would you mix with orcs?"

"Before I can answer your question, you must first answer my question." Moka raised his hand and pressed it on Marik's head:
"Tell me, Marik, does the Restot dynasty treat humans well?"

"Be kind to humans? Of course, we treat everyone well."

"Including the sailors on your ship?" Mocha asked further.

Malik knew the sailor's situation clearly, but he didn't dare to tell the truth directly. If he said the wrong thing, his life would be in the hands of this mysterious man who looked like a charlatan.

"Yes, we treat the sailors well. We provide them with food and lodging, arrange doctors to treat their illnesses, and pay them on time. If this is not considered good treatment, then I have nothing to say."

Mocha looked at Marik quietly without saying a word. The latter gradually felt guilty and swallowed his saliva.

The air was filled with silence for a few seconds.

"The prophet of the gods once gave us a message. He advocated that we should be kind and treat the weak well. Because we cannot be sure that we will always be the strong. When the relationship between the strong and the weak changes, we become the weak, and those who were once bullied by us become the strong. How do you think they will treat us?"

Mocha stroked the top of Malik's head, her voice soft.

Malik replied hesitantly:

"They...they will take revenge on us..."

"No, you are wrong." Mocha patted Malik on the head:
"The prophets of the gods will once again issue an oracle advocating that the strong treat the weak kindly. As a result, you who have become weak will not be tortured by the strong. When the relationship between the strong and the weak changes again, you will become the strong again. How will you treat the weak?"

As the chief bodyguard of the Rogue Trader, Malik had a quick mind and gradually caught up with Mocha's thoughts. His words became fluent:
"I will be kind to the weak and tell them that no matter how strong or weak they are, they should be kind to the weak because no one can guarantee that they will always be strong."

Mocha smiled:

"Very good. Now tell me, were you kind to the sailors?"

Malik was suddenly speechless, his expression became stiff, and he did not dare to answer the question.

"It seems that you don't treat the weak well." Mocha sighed regretfully, and his words revealed disappointment. It was hard to tell whether it was disappointment with Malik or disappointment with the empire.

Mocha took out a bottle of potion, placed it in front of Marik, and motioned him to drink it:
"The prophet of the gods once gave me a message, ordering me to treat the weak kindly. And you, Malik Restot, the brother of Restot V, although you are of a prominent position, you are a complete weakling at this moment. I will treat you kindly and give you a chance to atone for your sins. Drink this potion, listen to the prophet's teachings, and then you can leave."

The red orc that was restraining Marik loosened his wrists, allowing the other's arms to move freely.

A strange look flashed in Malik's eyes, and he secretly calculated the success rate of holding Mocha hostage and forcing the orcs to retreat.

No, the success rate is too low, I'm courting death by doing this... Malik thought to himself, took the potion bottle, poured the liquid into his mouth, and prepared to force the potion out by inducing vomiting after leaving.

But what he didn't expect was that after the potion entered his body, it was immediately absorbed by the mouth, leaving him no chance to induce vomiting.

A gentle and charming voice sounded in Malik's mind.

“He said that natural disasters are trials, man-made disasters are sin-purification, plagues are purification, and despair is the path to salvation. Do not be afraid of the suffering that destroys the body, because He brings liberation to the soul.

“Therefore, wherever He sees, there will be natural disasters, man-made disasters, plagues, despair…”

Malik's consciousness became unclear amid the murmurs, and he finally fell into a deep sleep.

"Pfft."

Malik fell to the ground.

After a few seconds, "he" knelt up again, and his eyes became as gentle as Mocha's.

"Welcome, my friend. We are not only bone drinkers, but also messengers between gods and mortals, shuttles on the loom of fate. Let us work together to create a better galaxy."

Bone Drinkers can communicate with each other through the spiritual network without speaking.

But perhaps out of some kind of hobby or a sense of pleasure, Mocha welcomed Malik to join in the tone of a superior.

He asked the red orc to equip Marik with a power backpack, and then put the helmet on him personally.

The two entered into a silent spiritual communication mode.

The content of their conversation became secret and no longer known to outsiders.

After a few minutes, Malik bowed.

His expression, behavior, and temperament were no different from before he was parasitized by the Bone Drinker, but all control over his body was now in the hands of the Bone Drinker.

From the time he drank the potion to the time he lost control of his body, it only took a few minutes for the Bone Drinker to complete the parasitism.

This process has been shortened by more than 99% compared with the past.

"It seems that the Bone Drinkers have made a major breakthrough in the rapid completion of parasitism..."

Li Nuo possessed Bond 4, lurking in the corner like a ghost, quietly watching everything in front of him.

"Move the stone away and let him out."

Moka barked orders in Low Gothic.

The red orc used his power hammer to smash the rubble in the passage, clearing a path to the upper level.

Malik bowed to Mocha again and left the spiral passage alone.

The red orcs cleared the landslide area and set up an ambush at the bend of the passage.

The orc boy moved the body away and covered the bloody smell with mud and sand.

Moka walked downwards with his hands behind his back and stood behind the shelter of the second-level grotto.

Li Nuo was a little confused by this series of operations.

What is Mocha doing?
Just wait and see?
(End of this chapter)