Dedicate loyalty to the good empire

Chapter 13: Free Blade, Part 2
Taylor's hometown is cold, and it has been so in both his past lives, from the eldest son of the Republic, the jewel of modern industrial wonders, to a relic of the Dark Ages, a ten-thousand-year-old hive city far from the stars.

He was not used to the sweltering heat of Mossenlade, the frequent rainy seasons, or the damned, numerous greenskins here.

At this moment he was polishing his long-bladed knife, which was the greenskin's to be exact, and was now his.

It's hard to say how a greenskin can maintain it at such a high level, but frankly speaking, this knife has a great luster. Coming from the home planet of the forest warriors, it is much better than his own bumpy tactical dagger.

Taylor certainly wouldn't let it plunge into an enemy's throat, seeking out the life force of others like two generations of its warlike owners had done.

But Taylor would also like to be able to cut the bushes more easily while running.

But everyone in the camp was whispering, discussing that Taylor had killed a boss, a war boss, a waaaghboss, the largest lord unit of the orcs.

Taylor had to admit that he did it, but unlike most people, he relied on careful calculations to figure out that it would rain that day, and was bold and careful, estimating that the greenskins would take advantage of the victory to pursue him, so he issued the order to retreat.

But to Taylor, this was almost nonsense. He didn't think about any problems and just wanted to survive.

But Freeblade still came, and for the first time, her proud head was so close to him. As the saying goes, she looked dejected.

Elena was still wearing that beautiful white dress. She might like it very much. Her tall figure and arrogant appearance made Taylor smell the faint scent of cuckoo tail flowers on her body.

The woman placed her voluptuous, powerful thighs and leather boots in front of Taylor, on the stone he used to sharpen his knife.

Her voice was wavering and helpless, and she spoke with a strange accent that Taylor could hardly understand.

"How do you make a knife?"

Taylor picked up his long blade. "How do I do it? I just rub it gently to make sure it's sharp, and then..."

Freeblade adjusted her mood, and her Gothic tone returned to its previous elegant tone. "I'm talking about how you did it!"

"My Vanguard Knight Mech and two Squire Mechs, along with the ancient Relic Knights controlled by my damned cousin's sacred machine spirit, have killed a number of greenskins barely equal to yours!"

"And you still have a boss, a war boss!"

What kind of tongue twister was this? Taylor was a little confused. By the time he figured out that it was the Knight Family's respectful title for other people's mechas, the lady had already waited too long.

Taylor replied. "Oh, so that's what you call those Knight Titans."

Freeblade's rage reached its limit. She took a deep breath and said, "Now, you are my master, right?"

Taylor looked at his new weapon and said nonchalantly, "That thing? I just wanted to fulfill my own wish. The bet was just to get you to allow me to stay in the camp."

Freeblade felt strangely disappointed, she said. "What do you think of your oath?"

Taylor replied. "It's an obstacle to my survival."

Freeblade was speechless. She gave a wry smile, then lost all her aristocratic demeanor and sat down next to Taylor.

Maybe, she was not such a person originally. She was Free Blade. Maybe the girl who played a trick on Taylor at the beginning was her true self.

She once left her family, traveled the stars, and pursued her own path everywhere. To be honest, this man could make a girl like her feel inexplicably at ease.

At this moment, she carelessly let her white dress become dusty and simple, her plump buttocks fell to the ground, leaving a brown stain on her clothes, and she said in a relieved tone.

"You're more informal than I thought. I apologize for teasing you earlier."

Taylor put away his long knife. He didn't care at all. It was even funny to attend the combat meeting in his pajamas.

He simply asked. "Is that all you're saying? Then can I rest now? Technically, you're still my master."

Freeblade sighed. "I no longer have the face to command you." "I heard the High King will grant you honorary baronship, making you, a foreigner, a noble."

"You will be on my level, with a castle and hundreds of armed retainers."

"What an exaggerated honor! How many people will envy you. The friendship of a knight family and..."

Taylor immediately raised his hands. "Stop. I'm not staying in this world, you know."

Servants and castles are good, but this is the seat of a feudal knight family full of warmongers. God knows if he will be trampled to death by those mecha pilots one day.

Secondly, Taylor didn't like this place. It was too hot and the technology level was too low, and there was nothing more interesting.

Secondly, he is an Astra Militarum, the Emperor's Hammer, so he is bound to be traveling around.

Freeblade smiled and said, "I know you're not interested in this. You're just like me..."

Taylor said dissatisfiedly. "Did you misunderstand something?"

Freeblade stood up, lowered his head, and said seductively, "No, absolutely not. This is the first time I've felt my heart beating for anything other than killing heretics. You've given me excitement beyond war."

She kissed him silently, and the soft part touched Taylor's cheek, leaving a red cherry mark.

Taylor's mind nearly short-circuited. What was wrong with this woman? She kissed a stinking Imperial man? And said something that sounded like a confession?

Taylor opened his mouth, then, unsure what to say, could only look at the straightforward woman.

Freeblade placed a slender finger against Taylor's mouth and spoke.

"That's enough. I know I'm dreaming, that's all."

"Let me enjoy it for a while. As you said, we might die under the attack of the greenskins the next day."

"They're about to launch a general attack, and I just hope that we can survive, that we can all survive, even if we can't be together."

Taylor hugged the young woman silently. He almost forgot that this warmongerer was actually a weak girl.

Although it is unknown how much her soul has been polluted by the machine spirit after coming into contact with the Knight Mecha, those words and feelings are absolutely true.

Also, those greenskins are going to attack?
Taylor embraced the beauty, but he felt increasingly uneasy...

He wondered if it was because he had killed a war boss, and was even a little afraid that those greenskins would come looking for him.

But when he saw Elena's blushing cheeks, only at this moment did he muster up the courage to speak.

"I will make those greenskins go away... I swear to the Emperor."

Elena didn't answer, only the corners of her mouth curled up silently.

And Taylor was already regretting what he had just said, to be precise.

He can't fight at all...

　The choice of weapon is actually very important.

　　Not a power saber, not a chainsword, but a Catachan blade, apparently.

　　He's an old bastard.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)