Warhammer: Don't Call Me the God of All Machines

Chapter 453: Faith in the Divine Emperor (Please Subscribe)

The quiet trench front suddenly became noisy, and Calvin saw the heavy artillery and veterans of the Sun Auxiliary Army moving.

The war is coming again.

The accelerated secretion of adrenaline made the hungry militiaman move. Except for some soreness in his legs and feet, he lay down in his position holding his laser gun under the stimulation of hormones.

A familiar stench began to waft, and Calvin skillfully put on a pig-mouth-shaped gas mask. This protective gear could cover the mouth, nose and eyes, isolating himself from the outside world as much as possible.

The political commissar, who was also a veteran of the Sun Auxiliary Army, began to roar and command these new recruits.

In fact, Calvin didn't know how to fight at all. He just shot in the direction the political commissar told him to shoot. As for whether he hit the target or not, that was not his concern.

Being able to hold the line and empty the magazine of his laser gun was the greatest loyalty he could offer to the Emperor.

He felt cold all over and was shivering. The thick military thermal clothing could not stop the cold from coming. The cold did not seem to be the cold that mortals understood.

Disturbing howls were heard outside the position, like a dying old man struggling to swallow the last mouthful of phlegm in his throat, or an old wooden house decaying under the corrosion of time and finally turning into ruins with a creaking sound.

That terrifying sound was not a ferocious roar, but it could arouse the instinctive fear in human hearts.

It is the fear of death and disease.

Thick fog began to spread across the battlefield. The gray mist brought uneasiness and dimmed the sunlight.

The mechanical priests and mortal technicians on the battlefield raised an extremely primitive chemical fuel searchlight. The weak light tried its best to illuminate the darkness and provide the most visual support for the auxiliary soldiers and militia.

"They are coming!" roared the commander of this position.

The first things that appeared in Calvin's sight were some zombies whose skin was ulcerated all over, and one could even see huge sores and holes with the naked eye.

They exuded an appalling stench and staggered through the muddy and toxic sludge.

Many of the zombies have been completely decayed, and even their heads are barely able to stay in their original positions with the help of rotten flesh and spine.

Their eyes had rotted away, but they continued to roar and move closer to the mortal front.

"These are only the weakest enemies. They are very fragile. You only need to blow their heads off with a laser gun to make them unable to move."

Calvin recalled the experience that the veteran of the Sun Auxiliary Army had taught him. Tremblingly, he aimed his laser gun, and when the sight reached the straight line between the three points, he immediately pulled the trigger.

There was a flash of laser light, and the focused beam hit the target, creating a small explosion on the surface and vaporizing the object.

The zombie in front of Calvin had its head blown up, and their rotten bones exploded instantly, with the smelly green pus inside splattering everywhere.

He did not feel much joy in his heart, because every one of these zombies was once his compatriot. They died in the plague, but crawled back from the underworld, bringing decay and death to more humans.

Calvin smelled the extremely disgusting smell and instinctively wanted to vomit, but his stomach was empty and there was nothing to vomit.

He seemed to be numb, firing again and again to stop the zombies from approaching.

After firing more than a hundred shots, the laser gun in his hand finally ran out of ammunition. He immediately unscrewed the energy box of the laser gun as the veterans said, and threw it into the blazing fire beside him.

Calvin nervously counted to ten in his mind, kicked the energy box out with his fireproof boots, and then stuffed it back in despite the still hot surface.

"Old buddy, you are still reliable."

Calvin loves his laser gun, which requires only minimal maintenance and can even restore its ammunition capacity by heating it over a fire. It is also the only weapon he can use to fight the enemy.

Hundreds of laser guns were firing on the battlefield, and they tried to fire in batches to avoid a reduction in firepower within a certain period of time.

However, those tough guys of the Sun Auxiliary Army would not use such sissy weapons. Thirty meters away from Calvin, an old soldier wearing force-feedback power armor wrapped himself tightly was carrying a heavy promethium flamethrower and coldly releasing a fire dragon to burn the battlefield.

In the face of the burning flame of promethium, both the mist and the pus on the ground evaporated rapidly. The sacred flame could expel these filthy things.

"Emperor, bless us," Calvin thought silently. Although the Lord of Mankind had always promoted and emphasized the Imperial Truth, after the emergence of various unpredictable enemies, more and more people began to worship the Emperor as a god.

Calvin often heard some of his comrades call the Lord of Mankind the God-Emperor.

This is a change in thought that cannot be seen in the light of day. Although many people know about it and agree with it, no one dares to put forward the so-called belief in the God-Emperor in public.

This is a rebellion against the truth of the empire. If it had happened in the past, someone would have come to settle accounts with them.

Compared to the cold imperial truth, these humans struggling with disease and hunger need a divine existence that they can worship and pray to more.

The Lord of Mankind is obviously a natural object of worship, and many people long for the Emperor's protection so that these helpless and weak humans can have something to rely on.

After Calvin prayed, he felt as if a warm current was really surging in his body. His fear and hesitation faded a little, and the palm of his hand holding the laser gun became stronger.

He regarded it as the magical effect of faith, and faith in the Emperor of God really worked.

The first batch of zombies all fell on the road of charge. Even the defense line composed of laser guns could stop them, but everyone knew that these were just cannon fodder coming to die.

What the enemy needs is to spread the viruses and plagues brewing in these zombies to the loyalists' defense lines as much as possible, and defeat them with those invisible pathogens.

On the battlefield covered with blood and pus, a new batch of enemies is approaching. They are fully equipped and in formation, forming a dark mass, exuding a strong sense of oppression.

"Detestable traitors, they used vicious technology and sorcery to control our comrades, turning them against their former companions."

The enemies Calvin saw were mind-controlled slave soldiers created by the rebels, who had been brainwashed by the machines of the Dark Mechanicus and turned their weapons against him.

Those mind-controlled slave soldiers are no match for the zombies. They have the same discipline and organization as before, and can even skillfully control the traitors' vehicle units to charge.

The Dark Mechanicus's knight mechas and tanks charged forward, their steel tracks crushing the mud, along with the flesh and bones of the loyalists.

The promethium engines were roaring, and several loyal Sikaran tanks activated their weapon systems, and the shells like a rainstorm smashed numerous enemies into pieces.

Heavy logging rifles and close-range explosive shells even tore through the armor of a Knight mech, but more enemies were coming, and the Sikaran tank and its driver were destroyed by the enemy's long-range artillery fire.

Both sides entered meat grinder mode, sacrificing each other's lives to weaken the other's strength.

With a loud roar of artillery fire, there was only a huge pit left where the veteran of the Sun Auxiliary Army was standing next to Calvin. The crater that was emitting hot steam and smoke was empty.

Calvin was shaking all over, and he realized that he must be sick, infected by the pathogens spread by those enemies.

"Damn it, God-Emperor! If you want me to die, you won't be able to live!"

Calvin's blood boiled and he dropped his laser gun. Although this weapon was reliable, it was somewhat powerless when facing such an enemy.

He fell laboriously into the trenches and mud, and picked up the promethium flamethrower dropped by the veteran of the Solar Auxiliary Army. This thing was extremely hot, and Calvin had no idea how the flamethrower filled with promethium fuel survived the artillery fire.

But this is no longer important. He proudly stood on the high ground, dragged the flamethrower with great effort and fired fiercely at the enemy. The high temperature flames directly burned to death those enemies who came too close.

Feeling that the flamethrower might not be able to sustain its output, he threw the fuel-depleted flamethrower away from his position. With a shock wave of self-destruction, he fell heavily into the hot gravel.

Calvin's mind was in a complete chaos in the haze. He was lucky. The overheated flamethrower would have exploded into pieces along with the user in just one second, but now it was just some insignificant burns.

He tried desperately to open his eyes, trying to look at the sky of his hometown. Hundreds of dazzling meteors were falling, tearing apart the darkness and thick fog.

"Reinforcements are coming! Reinforcements from the Empire are coming!"

In a trance, Calvin heard the shouts of his comrades.

"The Blood Angels are coming!"

(End of this chapter)