In Warhammer, throwing a muddle is impossible.

Solomon walked up to Caster, who was directing soldiers to move the wounded, and gently handed him the still unconscious girl in his arms.

“This is Miss Audrey, the only daughter of former Governor Oliver,” Solomon said in a deep voice. “Governor Oliver was a good father and a loyal warrior. He fought to the last moment to protect this girl.”

Colonel Custer was startled. He solemnly took the girl as if accepting a heavy responsibility.

“I assure you, as long as I have a breath left, no one can hurt her.”

Then, the battle-hardened veteran straightened up and gave the four giants in front of him a perfect Eagle Salute.

"Thank you, angels. If it weren't for you, this planet would already be..."

Caesar stepped forward, interrupting the colonel's gratitude, "Tell me now, how many men are left?"

Colonel Custer's expression instantly darkened.

He lowered his head, his voice hoarse: "The Shadow Force of the 110th Regiment of Kadia originally had a strength of 2,300 men, but currently... there are 676 men remaining."

"As for the civilians..." The colonel looked around at the ragged, emaciated crowd in the square, "In the entire Quint Nest City, with billions of people, the number of confirmed survivors is... 3,380."

A deathly silence enveloped the group of four.

The entire nest has at least billions of people...

Now only about four thousand people remain.

This is the messed-up universe of Warhammer 40K, where Chaos cultists commit atrocities and innocent people are always at risk of becoming victims.

Solomon looked at the survivors whose eyes had lost their light and saw the despair on their faces. He knew that if he didn't do something, these people, even if they survived, would be completely crushed by despair.

"call……"

Solomon took a deep breath, strode up to the high platform in the center of the square, and slammed his scepter heavily against the shield.

The golden, sacred halo shone brightly once more, but this time, it shone down on everyone like warm sunshine.

"Raise your heads! People of Quint!"

Solomon's voice, amplified by loudspeakers, echoed across the square.

“I know what you have lost. Homes, loved ones, friends… It has truly been a devastating disaster.”

"but!"

Solomon's tone suddenly rose, filled with undeniable power.

"This is also a great victory! Look around you! Look at those fallen demon corpses! We have won!"

“Those scum who call themselves gods tried to drag you into despair, tried to make you submit. But what did you do? You survived! You, with your mortal bodies, fought against the plot of heretics!”

"This battle deserves to be remembered! Not only for the sacrifices, but also for your courage! It proves that the people of the Empire will never yield to heresy! No matter how deep the darkness, humanity's faith will become a strong shield and a sharp blade!"

Solomon raised his scepter high and pointed it to the sky.

"For the living! For the departed!"

"You must survive, rebuild your homes, and rekindle the flame of civilization in these ruins!"

"For the Emperor!!!"

The voice seemed to possess a magical power, rekindling the embers that had long since died out in people's hearts.

Among the previously numb crowd, some raised their heads, some clenched their fists, and some began to shed tears, but these were no longer tears of despair.

"For the Emperor!!!"

A shout rang out, followed by ten, a hundred, and a thousand shouts.

That was the catharsis of surviving a catastrophe, a roar against fate.

Seeing the group of people whose eyes had regained their sparkle, the four of them finally breathed a sigh of relief.

"Alright, stop standing there and get to work."

Caesar clapped his hands and began assigning tasks to everyone.

"Colonel, reorganize the rest of the men. All the men who can still move, come with me to move supplies and set up a defensive line. The women will be in charge of logistics; gather all the usable food and water together."

Vlad slipped into the crowd, somehow acquiring some candy, which he then distributed to the still-crying children.

The assassin who slaughtered demons in the arena without batting an eye has now become the most popular leader of the children.

Osiris, who suffers from severe mysophobia, had already silently entered the wounded area.

He didn't look down on the filth and pus on those ordinary people, nor did he say a word. He simply knelt down silently and used his incredibly steady hands to treat the wounds of one injured person after another.

"Don't move around, it will hurt a little, but you can survive."

Although his voice remained cold, his movements as he bandaged the wounded were incredibly gentle.