Warhammer Survival Guide

Chapter 131 The Swarm (Bonus Chapter)

The area surrounding the eastern granary is a wasteland.

This place is filled with a crisscrossing network of underground sewage channels.

Most of these pipelines were built three centuries ago to discharge industrial wastewater from the bottom of the nest city into more distant uninhabited areas.

The inner walls of the pipe were covered with thick layers of grease and unidentified bacteria.

late at night.

Inside a section of an abandoned sewage ditch.

Several figures dressed in tattered gray robes gathered here.

The mud beneath their feet was soaking with fermenting entrails and dead rats.

In addition, there were some discarded medical tubings with biohazard markings.

The leader pulled back his hood, revealing a face covered in pustules.

He poured a spoonful of the green, viscous liquid at his feet.

When the liquid comes into contact with decaying organic matter, it immediately produces yellowish-brown bubbles.

The man recited a prayer in a low voice.

The syllables are wet and indistinct; they sound like thick phlegm stuck in the throat.

Several believers around him joined in the chanting.

The silt began to churn.

Countless tiny black beetles emerged from the depths of the mud.

They have a hard chitinous shell and sharp mouthparts, which are specifically used to gnaw on plant seeds and roots.

Next came the flies.

These flies were enormous, with compound eyes that gleamed with a sickly red light, and swollen abdomens filled with parasite eggs that were about to be laid.

Nurgle's blessing does not require a grand altar.

Drains, rotten matter, and waste—these offerings are the perfect breeding ground.

The leader of the believers looked at these newborn "children" with a kind smile on his face.

He stretched out his festering fingers and gently stroked a plague fly that had landed on the back of his hand.

Then he pointed into the distance.

That is the planting field in Zone C.

There are buried type IV wheat seeds that have just been sown.

That was the Corpse King's food.

It is a target that must be desecrated.

Above ground.

Inside the makeshift command post by the edge of the field, Luo Wei took out a sealed metal box from his pocket.

Even through the thick layer of lead and the lining of his trench coat, he could still feel the warmth emanating from the surface of the box.

At this moment, this fragment of a Nurgle cultist's amulet is heating up.

Luo Wei frowned, then took out his brass pocket watch and glanced at the time.

2:15 a.m.

He closed the pocket watch and said, "Buck."

Buck immediately stepped forward.

"Turn on all the searchlights," Rowe ordered. "Notify the special waste recycling team to prepare for ignition."

Without any hesitation, Buck turned around and shouted a few words into the walkie-talkie.

A few seconds later.

The cacophony of electrical current rippled through the night sky.

The high-powered searchlights installed on the watchtowers around the planting fields in Zone C were lit up simultaneously.

A beam of snow-white light pierced the darkness, illuminating the isolation netting at the edge of Zone C.

A beam of light swept across the wasteland.

A layer of surging black water appeared on the once empty ground.

Tens of thousands of carrion beetles and plague flies flying at low altitudes.

They huddled together densely, covering every inch of the ground, and with a constant buzzing sound, they advanced toward the farmland.

Behind the swarm of insects, dozens of distorted human figures were staggering forward.

Armed with rusty pliers and improvised explosive devices, they attempted to breach the outermost protective netting.

"Fire!" Buck roared.

In the trenches at the forefront of the defense line, hundreds of men dressed in orange prison uniforms stood up.

They are death row inmates.

It was also the "Special Waste Recycling Team" that Luo Wei organized.

They held industrial flamethrowers modified by Father Alpha.

This flamethrower was originally used to clear clogged sewage pipes. It doesn't have a long range, but the fuel has been pressurized.

Ten fire dragons spewed out at the same time.

The intense heat instantly engulfed the swarm of insects at the forefront.

The beetle's shell cracked under the high temperature, making a continuous crackling sound.

The flies' wings were burned off, and they fell like rain, curling up into black carbonized matter on the ground.

Luo Wei stood on a high place, holding a data tablet in his hand.

He didn't have time to look at the burning insect corpses; his focus was on the resource consumption data on the screen.

Each injection represents the consumption of five liters of special fuel.

This fuel is made by mixing high-purity cadaver fat and industrial alcohol. The cost is lower than that of standard phosphine, but the total cost adds up to a considerable expense.

In addition, they were equipped with a large number of cheaper Molotov cocktails, but these were not very safe, were prone to exploding, and could injure themselves.

"Seat number three on the left, fill in," Luo Wei said into the communicator. "Don't waste fuel burning air; wait until they gather together before burning it."

On the battlefield.

One of the death row inmates hesitated for a moment, and a plague fly that had escaped the net bumped into his mask.

The fly's abdomen burst open, releasing green acid that splashed onto the glass dome, emitting white smoke.

The condemned prisoner screamed and instinctively pulled the trigger, sending flames sweeping across the open ground.

"Write it down," Rowe said to the recorder beside him. "Operator number three wasted about fifteen liters of fuel. Deduct it from his ration."

The battle continues.

The Nurgle Plague's offensive was devoid of any tactics.

Unlike the battle to defend the eastern granaries three months ago, this time they are simply piling up quantities.

Wave after wave of insects surged up, attempting to fill the firebreak with their corpses.

Armed followers of the plague threw glass bottles filled with filthy bodily fluids from a distance.

The bottle shattered on the defensive line, releasing a green, toxic mist.

Although the precision-engineered explosive gun "Emperor's Wrath," which Buck cherished as his life, was taken away by tax collector Marquez as a "sacred relic."

However, at this moment, the firepower poured down on the defensive line did not diminish in the slightest.

Dense laser beams and the thick tongues of fire from heavy logging guns intertwined in the night, forming a web of death that precisely tore the plague believers who tried to approach to shreds.

This batch of equipment was urgently airdropped by the Governor's Office overnight the day after Márquez left.

As Luo Wei's eastern granary became the core grain-producing area of ​​the Abundance II, it naturally received special attention from the Governor's Office in terms of weaponry.

Of course, the Governor's Office did not have the extra budget to purchase new weapons.

The butt of the logging gun in Buck's hand still had indelible dark red bloodstains, and the sights were worn shiny.

They came from the Fourth and Ninth Agricultural War Zones, which had already fallen.

These are relics dug out of a pile of corpses by the Governor's personal guard; they are the legacy left by the losers.

This is a tedious tug-of-war.

There was no heroic charge, only living people carrying the weapons of the dead, mechanically pulling triggers and mechanically changing magazines and batteries.

Loe witnessed all of this.

He remained very calm.

This level of attack was within his contingency plan.

According to calculations, if we hold on for another three hours, it will be dawn.

When ultraviolet radiation increases, these shade-loving plague creatures will retreat.

The price he paid was approximately three tons of fuel and tens of thousands of rounds of ammunition.

These costs are acceptable.

In addition, insect carcasses are also a type of organic fertilizer. Burning them into ash and then backfilling them into the ground can slightly mitigate some of the losses.

Luo Wei sketched on the data board, calculating the input-output ratio.

however.

A gust of wind blew by.

A nauseating fishy smell wafted in the air.

Luo Wei stopped writing.

He raised his head and looked up at the sky.

The once pitch-black night sky was now covered with thick, dark clouds.

The clouds had an eerie yellowish-green hue, swirling around the edges of the searchlights and pressing low.

The amulet in Luo Wei's arms became scalding hot, burning his skin through his clothes.

At the same time, without warning, Father Alpha's urgent, synthesized voice came through the communication channel: "Alert, advisor, weather data is showing exponential anomalies!"

"Acidic clouds in the atmosphere are rapidly collapsing and converging at this singularity."

"High-energy reaction detected; subspace readings are rising vertically!"

Luo Wei's expression suddenly darkened.

He incorporated the Nurgle cultists' suicide attacks, the swarm's biomass scale, and even his own stockpile of every bomb and every liter of fuel into his logical model.

However, he underestimated the speed at which these fanatical believers could manipulate warp forces and misjudged their tactical intentions.

Behind him, dozens of heavy grain trucks were parked, fully loaded with precious wheat seeds.

Initially, when faced with the enemy's assault on the front line, Lowe naturally assumed that their objective was to destroy the unplanted Type IV wheat seeds on the transport trucks.

If the vehicles are destroyed and the seed reserves are wiped out, Luo Wei's painstakingly developed "spring planting plan" will go bankrupt due to lack of food.

This aligns with the destructive logic of war.

Only now did he understand:

Everything was a feint, a sacrifice!

They drive their swarms and followers to concentrate on the front lines and die, creating mountains of corpses and seas of blood, in order to use this short-term outbreak of death and despair to hold a grand sacrificial ceremony.

Using this location as a coordinate, we can invoke subspace forces to alter the local climate!

"It's raining." Buck reached out and caught a drop of rain.

"Zzz."

Rainwater fell on Buck's gloves, corroding them and producing a wisp of white smoke.

It's acid rain.

Strong acid rain mixed with high concentrations of plague spores.

Luo Wei's heart sank.

Type IV wheat seeds have undergone genetic modification, resulting in a hard outer shell and a certain degree of acid resistance.

But faced with this high concentration of plague acid rain falling directly from the sky, they were almost powerless to protect themselves.

Even more deadly are the spores carried in the rainwater.

If seeds are contaminated by these spores during the germination stage, what grows will not be wheat, but a poisonous weed oozing pus.

The rain intensified instantly.

Yellow-green raindrops pounded heavily on the ground, the sound sending chills down your spine.

White, acidic mist rose from the fields.

Buck hurriedly asked, "Boss, what do we do? Should we pull the raincoat over here?"

"It's too late," Rowe replied.

The planting area in Zone C is too large.

The stock of tarpaulins can only cover less than one-tenth of the area.

Furthermore, the wind is too strong now, and it will take time to set up the awning.

At this rate of rainfall, the soil will be completely soaked within half an hour.

These seeds are doomed!

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