Warhammer 40K in a box

Chapter 596: Iron Torrent
"Iron Hand? I've torn through much tougher sheet metal!" The "Iron Slayer," after all, was a battle-hardened orc chieftain. It quickly recovered from its shock, and the humiliation of being provoked instantly transformed into a furious roar. It tried to squeeze out all the brute force within its body to press down on the axe. The chainsaw axe's engine roared wildly, its output power forcibly increased to its theoretical limit. The crude machine emitted a mournful cry of impending disintegration, but it still couldn't shake that silver-gray hand in the slightest. It was as if it was trying to press down not an arm, but a mountain of steel!
A cold, almost contemptuous glint flashed in Felus's eyes.

The "Gorgon Skin" on her right arm seemed to sense the will of its master and the insignificance of its opponent, and suddenly became extremely active, spreading faster up the axe blade and handle, like living and conscious metal tentacles, instantly enveloping the entire weapon structure of the chainsaw axe.

“Then you shall experience it for yourself today,” her voice boomed through the external speaker, carrying the cold, metallic hardness and undeniable authority characteristic of Primarchs, “what true steel is, what the power of protection is!”

As soon as he finished speaking, the liquid metal enveloping the giant chainsaw axe suddenly contracted and squeezed inward!
A terrifying, chilling sound of metal twisting, shattering, and exploding suddenly rang out!

The massive chainsaw axe that had accompanied the "Ironbreaker" in battle for many years seemed to be gripped and crushed by the hand of an invisible giant. The crude but powerful engine core, transmission structure, and fuel lines inside the axe handle were instantly shredded, crushed, and completely destroyed in a fraction of a second!
The deafening roar of the chainsaw came to an abrupt halt, like a wild beast being choked, replaced by the piercing groans of twisted metal breaking, the crackling and popping of internal parts, and the hissing sound of leaking highly volatile fuel hitting a hot surface!
The once formidable weapon was instantly transformed into a pile of ugly scrap metal emitting black smoke and sparks!
The "Iron Crusher" stared in disbelief as its beloved, powerful weapon—which had once torn apart countless armors and flesh, and which it was so proud of—was reduced to a pile of useless junk by a single blow from its opponent's bare hands. Its simple mind was almost unable to process this shocking information.

Immediately afterward, before it could recover from this immense shock and disappointment, Feralus's counterattack arrived.

Her right fist, covered in liquid metal and containing the terrifying power of the Primarch capable of destroying a light armored vehicle, slammed directly and heavily into the center of the "Ironbreaker's" unprotected, violently heaving green chest!
"Boom!"

A deafening, terrifying roar, like a giant warhammer striking a solid steel pillar, exploded out!

The massive, heavy body of the "Iron Crusher" was sent flying backward uncontrollably, as if hit directly by a heavy cannon. It traced a brief parabola before crashing heavily into a pile of broken metal beams and building ruins in the distance, producing another series of loud impacts and collapses that stirred up clouds of dust and debris.

It struggled a few times, trying to get up, but its chest cavity had been completely destroyed. In the end, it could only collapse helplessly and no longer move. Only the clear, deep, silver-gray fist mark on its breastplate coldly proclaimed the complete defeat of this arrogant war leader.

All of this happened in the blink of an eye, faster than most of those present could react.

The remaining orc boys were completely stunned. Their simple and primitive minds could not comprehend the incredible scene unfolding before them—their powerful leader and most formidable weapon had been instantly destroyed by a suddenly appearing "tin can" with his bare hands.

In that fatal moment when they were stunned by the immense shock, the warriors of the Steel Hand swept in with precision and efficiency, like the coldest and most merciless winds of death.

The precise short bursts of the bomb gun, the frenzied roar of the chainsaw sword, the heavy bombardment of the power gauntlets, and the scorching hum of the plasma weapon swiftly and thoroughly cleared away all the remaining green-skinned threats in front of the door.

The battle ended quickly.

A brief silence fell before the temple gates, leaving only the scattered orc corpses, the slowly burning, twisted remains, and the lingering smoke. The few surviving tech-priests rose shakily, their binary prayers long since silenced by shock. All their optical lenses and sensors were focused on the silver-grey giant standing amidst the smoke and carnage, radiating an invisible pressure. They saw the sacred and unique Gorgon emblem on her power armor, and the legendary silver arm that still flowed slowly, seemingly possessing a life of its own. This being, far beyond their comprehension, plunged them into profound bewilderment and astonishment.

"You...you are..." A leading priest, his voice crackling with static from overload and excitement, tried to comprehend the incredible presence before him. "God of all machines...this arm...but...who are you?"

Ferrus didn't respond to this surprised question. Her sensor array quickly and meticulously scanned the structural integrity of the gate, the surrounding defenses, and energy readings. The external speaker continued to broadcast that cold, hard, and unquestionable voice, cutting straight to the most crucial question:
"What is the situation inside the Temple? Is the STC template core library absolutely secure?"

The leading priest paused, his mechanical fingers trembling slightly from the previous fierce battle and the shock before him, but he quickly forced himself back to his duty. "The core template library is protected by the final multiple void shields and armored layers; it's temporarily... temporarily safe. However, the main structure of the temple is severely damaged, multiple areas have been urgently isolated, and most internal passages are blocked or collapsed. Furthermore... many civilians and technicians are trapped in the lower archives and emergency shelters; we've lost stable contact with them. Orcish contamination may have infiltrated the interior through other breaches."

“Kyle.” Without any hesitation, Felus connected directly to the private communication channel.

"Primarch." Company Commander Kyle's steady voice responded immediately, with the background sounds of intense gunfire coming from afar and the steady, rhythmic three-round bursts of his explosive rifle.

"Lead your Terminator squad, in coordination with these Tech Priests, and immediately purge all enemies from within the Temple," Felus's order was clear, concise, and unquestionable. "Highest priority: ensure the absolute security of the STC template library. Simultaneously, mobilize all available resources to rescue all trapped personnel. Prioritize personnel safety."

"Understood. Highest priority: Ensure the safety of the STC template library. Simultaneously, rescue all trapped personnel, prioritizing their safety." Company Commander Kyle repeated the order without hesitation, without any questions, only absolute obedience and execution.

After giving the order, Felus then turned her gaze to the more chaotic area in the distance, where the explosions and gunfire were more intense and deafening. According to the tactical map she had downloaded earlier, it appeared to be the original site of civilian settlements and large-scale shelters.

"The rest of the combat companies, move closer to me." Her voice echoed through the Legion's communications network to all surrounding units. "Reorganize the attack formation. Advance to the Seventh Residential Area. It needs to be defended."

She strode forward, her heavy adamantite power boots treading steadily over the shattered corpses of orcs, the cooled slag, and the various fragments left behind by war, resolutely heading towards a new and more brutal battlefield.

The warriors of the Steel Hand—these steel sons of Medusa—silently and efficiently converged behind her from all sides, once again forming an unstoppable torrent of steel.

The oath of protection is being fulfilled in the most direct, resolute, and also the most brutal way on this burning, ravaged land of the Forging World.

(End of this chapter)