Dedicate loyalty to the good empire

Chapter 151: On Adaptation in Hell
Captain of the Seventh Company of the Imperial Fists, he was known as "The Iron Fist" for his fighting style.

Because his right hand is a fake prosthesis, it was a decisive battle with the greenskin leader, and he used his own fists to beat the greenskin to death one punch at a time.

The price he paid was that his fist completely rotted, and the green-skinned leader's head also disappeared.

But that battle was actually a failure. The greenskins destroyed the fortress of the Imperial Fists, countless people died, and the Seventh Company was once wiped out.

It was he who boarded the ship and eliminated the enemy.

In order to remember the pain, he was unwilling to undergo limb repair surgery and instead chose prosthetics.

Now, every time he faced such a cruel war, his palms would ache slightly.

Now, his iron fist smashed into the head of a Death Guard, and the highly mutated and filthy head instantly turned into a ball of rotten flesh.

He shouted. "Go forward, past that valve, and close it, and we'll reach the gun room and finish our target, destroy those things!"

He charged forward angrily, and at the same time, old Tychus also raised his chainsaw sword and led his soldiers to charge forward. If Taylor was here, he would definitely be stunned, after all, he had never seen this old guy fight.

But now, as old Tychus wielded his blade and fired explosives, he seemed to be just as brave as a Space Marine, crushing everything in his path.

They rushed to the back of an ancient valve, and the Space Marines began to close it. After the clicking sound of hydraulics ended, the Captain of the Seventh Company breathed a sigh of relief.

"It's over, now we just need to destroy this place."

Tychus said pessimistically, "But we're out of food and ammunition. Getting this far is the limit, and I still have people I haven't taken care of yet."

"Of the commandos that came with us, only one in ten remains. The hundred people around us are the last remaining fighting force!"

The captain of the Seventh Company clearly knew who he was talking about. "I'm sure Taylor will be fine. He'll get out of this. He's always been lucky. He's also my apprentice. I've taught him a lot."

"The Ultramarines will take care of him. I've already asked those guys for support. Taylor just needs to wait until we get out. We..."

"All we have to do now is make a big enough noise. Okay, the bombardment control room is right up ahead..."

"Old guys like us are about to face the final war and show those Chaos heretics how wrong they are!"

Tychus laughed, his old cheeks full of wrinkles. He should have rested long ago, but he did not choose to retire, after all.

When he was supposed to leave the Imperial Guard, he picked up a good seedling. Although the boy had no ambition, he still wanted to take responsibility.

He raised his weapon and watched the partition valve in front of him slowly open. This was the mezzanine between two rooms, just like a submarine, to prevent the hull from being damaged and the oxygen in the room from being lost.

Now that the valve is gradually opening, the filth and distortion will also...

Old Tychus looked here carefully. He had prepared himself to see filth, but he found that this place was completely different.

Inside the bombardment chamber, many mortals knelt on the ground, worshiping the Imperial Sky Eagle representing the Emperor, and waves of scriptures floated here.

If it weren't for the dark armor and equipment used to control the turrets, Old Tychus would even feel like he had walked into a church.

Then he quickly noticed something was wrong. Why were those people chanting prayers from the Imperial Infantry Manual?
At the same time, a piece of paper with the words "Loyalty can be redeemed, heroes are always there" fell from the air. Tychus looked at the familiar handwriting on it and felt a dull pain in his temple.

He quickly walked up to a believer and asked the rebel who was wearing an Imperial Navy uniform but had an eight-pointed star on his head.

"What's wrong with you? You betrayed the Empire? Right?"

"But why are you now worshipping the one you betrayed?"

He grabbed the guy by the collar with his metal arm!

As for the cultist, he stammered in his answers, obviously very scared.

"Those lords who serve the gods treated us terribly. They beat us, insulted us, and treated us like a burden."

"We no longer want to fire their cannons! Say no to fear, embrace the Emperor again, and the Black Angels will protect us..."

Black Angels? The Captain of the Seventh Company asked doubtfully. "Could it be... the Black Templars? But they..."

Before his thoughts could clear up, he saw the valve being gradually opened, and several Emperor's Children warriors walked in angrily, shouting.

"Imperial Fists! Are you the ones who drop leaflets in mortal quarters every day, telling them that the Emperor will bless those who are willing to give advice?"

They were extremely angry, as if they wanted to eat the other side alive, which made Tychus and the captain of the Seventh Company confused. They had been fighting hard all this time, trying to get here, and even prepared to die.

But when they got here, they found that the enemy had been infiltrated and become their own people!

The Imperial Fists were bewildered, but still ready for battle. There was no need to talk to the traitors! The captain asked. "How many bolt rounds are left?"

A soldier replied. "Sir, only two magazines left."

The old company commander smiled bitterly.

"Then fight hand to hand!"

The warrior replied. "The chainsword blade also..."

But just as he finished speaking, several ammunition boxes fell from the ceiling. They contained not only a large number of grenades and bullets, but also loaded grenade launchers and even chainswords.

But without exception, they all had the chaotic eight-pointed star engraved on them...

At the same time, the cultists immediately knelt on the ground and shouted.

"The Black Angel has appeared! The Black Angel has appeared!"

"Long live the Emperor! Long live the Master of Mankind!"

Tychus cursed. "What the hell? Is this ammunition? Who dropped it? Is there really some powerful force in the Warp interfering with us?"

The old company commander glanced at the ventilation duct. "I think it's a rat. It's quite big."

"We'll understand the situation later. Let's deal with the enemy first."

He picked up a Chaos Space Marine's chainsword and quickly moved forward. Before the Chaos Space Marines could react, one of them was hit in the face by his iron fist.

Then the chainsaw sword was raised high, buzzing, sizzling, a head fell down, and when other Chaos Space Marines wanted to fight back, the Imperial Fists with the bolter had already beaten them into a sieve.

The battle was over, and the Imperial Fists warriors threw away their bombs and chainswords in disgust, as if just lifting those things engraved with the mark of Chaos would pollute their palms.

The captain of the seventh company said, "Stop hiding and come out!"

Soon, the valve opened again, and now there were corpses of a group of Space Marines lying at the door. All of them were killed by a single blow to the head. There were plasma, bombs, and power swords, but they were obviously unaware of the attack, and were all killed by a single blow from a blind spot.

And a huge giant wearing a black robe and four meters tall stood there, speaking in a special, emotionless voice.

"I am the Black Angel, I am the Emperor's Messenger, I am the only light of all eternity."

"Emperor's Children, follow me. I will lead you to the Holy Land."

Tychus looked at him suspiciously, but the captain of the Seventh Company smiled.

"I've seen too many weird things, but today I've been enlightened again."

He walked forward, and the assault troops and elite Imperial Fists warriors followed with a mixture of curiosity and worry.

When they reached a secluded place, the man in the robe suddenly lifted up a large piece of iron sheet and spoke in a mechanical voice.

"Roleplay module canceled."

Next, the bright light of the promethium lamp came from under the iron sheet, and what came into view was an interesting factory.

Here lay ink and paper, crude clay molds for enlargements, and Imperial Guardsmen at work.

As expected, they were all members of the Skadi assault force, and were also the warriors that Tychus originally thought to have sacrificed.

At this moment, a person they were familiar with stood in the middle of the factory and shouted.

"Is this the Dark Angel statue you carved? It's totally inadequate! You won't fool those guys like this. They've seen at least a thousand sculptures of the Four Gods!"

"Redo it!"

He solemnly returned the sculpture to the soldier, then took out a copy of the Emperor Sky Eagle he had carved himself, which was almost identical to the one the cultist was kneeling in. No, it was exactly the same.

Tychus said angrily. "What the hell are you doing, Captain Taylor?"

Taylor stiffened, then said guiltily, "Well, I didn't make any money from this, so it's not a business... probably."

"No punishment?"

(End of this chapter)