Shipping goods from the game to the World of Warhammer

Chapter 73 The Merchant Ronin's New Recruit

Yes, the Empire employs Bloodaxe, and Bloodaxe employs the Empire; this kind of thing is not uncommon in the nooks and crannies of the Warhammer galaxy.

Most of the time, this employment relationship occurs when an inquisitor is forced to make a temporary deal with the Bloodaxe Clan under some unspeakable condition.

Those selected Astragalus soldiers to carry out the missions are required to remove all Imperial insignia, eagle badges, and rank insignia, and then accept employment as "unofficial armed personnel." Once the job is done, they leave, and both sides act as if nothing has happened.

Of course, regardless of which party initiates the employment, the "mutual betrayal" phase after the cooperation ends is almost an ironclad rule.

The Empire will try to eliminate these well-informed Orc allies after the war, while Bloodaxe is figuring out how to use the weapons the Empire just gave them to fight back against the Empire. For Bloodaxe, it feels especially good to use the enemy's guns to fight the enemy.

Rhodes mentally weighed the pros and cons.

There aren't many options.

If the Evil Sun Clan takes over this planet, they will face a massive wave of red, crazed vehicles across the entire continent. At that point, the only options are to carry out a thorough purge of the planet and station a large number of troops to guard it permanently.

Given the Christina's current condition, let alone orbital bombardment, even its Geller force field generator is damaged, and it's questionable whether it can hold out until reinforcements arrive.

However, there is still room for negotiation regarding cooperation with Bloodaxe, at least for now.

As long as both parties share common interests, they won't bite each other for the time being. As for the betrayal after the cooperation ends, that's a matter for the future. Rhodes never minds exchanging a small future problem for a more troublesome one in the future; when faced with two evils, choose the lesser.

Without making a sound, he hung his right hand at his side, his index and middle fingers together, and gently tapped twice behind him.

Aliya received Rhodes's message of well-being. She made no unnecessary movements, but simply tilted her head slightly, her chin almost touching the tiny communicator, about the size of a grain of rice, sewn inside the collar of her uniform. Her lips moved a few times, uttering a few very short syllables.

Within seconds, the duty officer on the Christina will receive instructions for the entire crew and the Terran land forces to enter landing readiness status, with the shuttle fully loaded and ready to land at any time.

You should always keep a backup plan.

After delivering the instructions, Aliya turned around, a hint of undisguised displeasure flashing in her blue-gray eyes.

She took a half step forward, standing to Rhodes' right, her golden ponytail swaying slightly in the air, her tone utterly impolite: "You want to hire a wandering merchant?"

She stared at the Blood Axe officer.

"Do you know who you're talking to? A Vandrick dynasty merchant ronin, holding a trade license personally granted by the Emperor, not some random mercenary waiting to take on jobs."

The Bloodaxe officer pushed up the brim of his military cap, revealing a pair of shrewd little green eyes beneath it.

It wasn't angered by Aliya's tone; instead, it grinned, revealing a set of jagged orc teeth that were particularly striking.

"I've dealt with a lot of shrimps." It spoke calmly and slowly, its High Gothic language more fluent than most of the greenskins in the camp, and even at certain pauses and transitions, it carried a hint of imitating the tone of an Imperial officer.

Although hearing this accent from a big green face always feels a bit off.

"Whether it's the navy, a businessman, or a judge, when it comes to business, no one really cares about the other's status."

It shifted its gaze from Aria to Rhodes.

"Traveling merchants and wandering warriors are no exception."

Rhodes nodded slightly. Aria pursed her lips, said nothing more, and stepped back half a step behind Rhodes.

"What's your name?" Rod asked.

Snagrim.

"9

The Bloodaxe officer patted the metal badge pinned to his chest. Two red crossed axes were imprinted behind a gray skull, their edges worn smooth and shiny, suggesting that the orc officer often handled this badge.

"The commander of this hilly defense line is the third in rank under our boss."

"Alright, Snagrim." Rhodes crossed his arms and leaned back against the cave wall behind him, looking very casual, but Aria knew that this traveling merchant only adopted this posture when his mind was working at its fastest.

"Tell me, what specific kind of help do you need?"

Snagrim's smile faded.

He reached into the ammunition pouch at his waist and pulled out a piece of paper—a solid, crumpled piece of paper with several creases, on which a topographical map was hand-drawn in some kind of dark paint.

It seems they're really not doing so well on this planet; they don't even have a basic data version of the Tech Boy on the front lines.

The lines are rough but contain a lot of information: the hilly terrain and the locations of several strongholds marked with orc totem symbols are all clearly shown.

Snagrim spread the map out on a flat rock next to him and emphasized the edge of the map with his thick green finger.

"The evil sun's convoy has already reached this point."

My finger slowly traced the marked line of a dried-up riverbed, all the way to the outer edge of the hills.

"Our scouts sent back a message two hours ago: an advance squad of the Evil Sun is heading towards this outpost along this river. It's all tanks and combat motorcycles, and they're moving very fast." Snagrim looked up. "They should be there in about three to four hours."

Its finger moved to the center of the map, to the heart of the hilly area, which was the camp where they were now standing.

"This outpost is our last line of defense. Behind the hills lies an important town, which is also our water and supply depot. If we lose this place, Blood Axe will be completely finished on this planet. Uh, it seems there's nowhere to retreat to."

Snagrim straightened up, the brim of his military cap casting a shadow on his face, but not obscuring his eyes that stared directly at Rhodes.

"I don't care what kind of soldiers or weapons you have, or what methods you use, as long as you can help us defend this place, everything else can be discussed."

The Bloodaxe orc lads around him remained silent, busy with various pre-battle preparations.

Rod looked down at the crumpled hand-drawn map.

"make a deal."

The edge of the hills, at the end of the dried-up riverbed.

The vanguard of the Evil Sun Clan had already gathered on a wide-open gravel plain, waiting for the last batch of vehicles to catch up from behind.

Leading the way were the combat trucks of the Evil Sun, each one wider than the Empire's Chimera troop carriers, but much shorter. This was because the Evil Sun had lowered the chassis to less than half a meter off the ground, supposedly to make it closer to the ground and more stable when cornering. As for the actual effect, that was a matter of opinion.

The car body was welded with thick metal plates and jagged spikes, and every inch of exposed steel surface was painted a dazzling bright red. Red cars run fast, that was their truth.

The truck bed was equipped with an exaggeratedly large caliber mortar, the barrel of which was so thick that an orc boy's head could be stuffed inside. Ammunition boxes were piled on both sides of the truck bed and secured with iron chains and welds, clanging loudly with the vibration of the truck.

Following the truck were combat motorcycles, each with a tuk-tuk or a crudely made rocket launcher strapped to its front fork. The engines were modified to be at least twice the size of the originals, with exposed exhaust pipes pointing skyward, spewing out thick black exhaust fumes and occasionally emitting sparks.

The riders sat crookedly on their seats, their feet on the pedals, their bodies swaying back and forth with the vibrations of the idle speed, looking ready to twist the throttle and rush off at any moment.

One of the motorcycles had several crooked vertical lines painted on its body in white paint, each line representing a record of crushing an enemy, or at least that's what its owner claimed.

At the rear of the convoy, a heavy armored vehicle, noticeably two sizes larger than the other vehicles, slowly drove up, its tracks leaving two deep ruts as it rolled over the gravel.

A standard Imperial battle cannon, salvaged from somewhere, was welded onto the turret on the roof of the vehicle. The barrel was painted red, and a string of orc teeth was tied to the muzzle with wire as decoration, jingling and rattling as the vehicle bumped along.

A low-ranking member of the evil army jumped off the truck bed, a metal pipe he'd picked up from somewhere dangling from his mouth as a pipe. He spit at the group of riders behind him with a smirk.

"Those Blood Axe bastards ambushed us last time and blew up my favorite motorcycle!"

It slammed its fist into the truck bed sideboard, the powerful force creating a fist-sized dent in the sheet metal and knocking out two rivets.

"That was a piece of junk I spent countless teeth modifying! I even welded the exhaust pipe myself! And those cowards blew it up!"

A young orc riding a motorcycle nearby chuckled, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth missing several teeth: "I heard Bloodaxe can dig holes. Last time, Old Mog's car fell into a hole and overturned. He and the car rolled three times, upside down, and got stuck in the hole."

"That's because old Mogg's headlights are just for show! Who told him to be so stingy with his teeth to get a better one!" another rider chimed in, eliciting a burst of laughter.

The foreman didn't laugh. He ripped the welding goggles off his forehead and put them over his eyes. The right eye of the headlight lens emitted a faint, dark red glow behind the goggles.

"What are you laughing at! Go all out on the gas today, don't give those petty thieves any time to react!"

"Waaaaaagh!!"

The roars of the Evil Sun Clan rose and fell.

The engine roared suddenly higher, and the combat motorcycle's exhaust pipe spewed out a large cloud of thick black fumes, causing the nearest fart spirits to cough violently. The combat truck driver also stepped on the gas, speeding towards Blood Axe's forward base.

Meanwhile, on this side of the hills, inside the Bloodaxe clan's stronghold.

Rhodes stood on a rocky high platform overlooking the entire defensive line layout, with Snagrim standing beside him.

The Bloodaxe officer had changed his equipment. He still wore the same military cap, but now he had an Imperial standard bulletproof vest that he had somehow acquired. Although it was a bit small on the orc's body, it at least covered his vital parts.

Rhodes's gaze swept across the open area in front of the outpost.

Then his eye twitched violently.

A metal bucket was slowly moving, step by step, using its two exposed thick legs. The bucket swayed and made a muffled sound with each step. A crack appeared on the side of the bucket, and a pair of small eyes peeked out from the crack. After confirming that no one was paying attention to it, it continued to move.

On the other side, inside a tire tower made of three giant tires stacked together, a large green hand holding a thud extended from the gap between the tires, its finger tentatively pulling the trigger twice, producing a clicking sound.

Another hand reached out from the gap and slapped the first hand, signaling it not to fire randomly. The two hands silently pushed and shoved each other in the tire gap for a few seconds before withdrawing.

"—Is this how you ambush people?" Rhodes turned and glanced at Snagrim.

Snagrim nodded matter-of-factly, a hint of smugness even in his expression beneath his military cap: "It worked! Last time, when those idiots from the Evil Sun charged over, they went straight into the obstacle course. By the time they turned off their engines and realized there were people in the barrels, our kid had already stuffed the explosives into their exhaust pipes. That's how that destroyed the fastest motorcycle."

Rhodes recalled the troop positions deployed on the system panel earlier, and then looked at the metal barrels and tire towers moving between the obstacles.

Hundreds and thousands of identical barrels and tire towers were lined up together, along with various anti-vehicle obstacles, making it difficult for the Evil Sun Clan to simply run them over with their vehicles.

Some were filled with orcs, while others were empty. It was indeed difficult to tell from the front, provided that the creatures inside didn't move around.

"Tell your people to stop moving it," Rod said, pointing to the still-moving metal barrel. "It's almost moved to the open space outside the barrel array. If it moves any further, even a blind person from the Evil Sun will be able to see it."

Snagrim turned and roared in the direction of the metal barrel, the sound so loud that Rhodes' ears rang.

The legs inside the metal bucket froze, paused for two seconds, then retracted back into the bucket, and the bucket stopped shaking.

"What the hell? Where are your soldiers?" Snagrim turned around and asked.

Rhodes gestured with his chin toward the shadowy hills behind the stronghold, but there was nothing there.

Snagrim stared at the shadows behind the rocks, where there was nothing. His small eyes under the brim of his hat narrowed into slits, and the corner of his mouth twitched as if he was holding back something.

"Your soldiers—they're quite good at hiding." That was all it managed to say at the end, without mentioning that there seemed to be no one there.

Anyway, they are now on the same side, and Blood Axe's own soldiers alone cannot hold the line. If they fail to stop the Evil Sun Clan, this shrimp will not fare well either.

In the distance, on the horizon, sand and dust began to churn.

At first, it was just a small clump, like ordinary dust blown up by the wind, but a few seconds later it spread into a gray-yellow wall of dust that stretched across the field of vision, rising from the ground to a height of more than ten meters.

Then came the sound.

The roar of engines came first, like some giant beast howling below the horizon. Then came the cracking of exhaust pipes, the clanging of metal against metal, and the excited howls of countless orcs, all mingling together and surging in from afar.

The ground began to tremble, and the subtle vibrations transmitted from the soles of my feet grew stronger and stronger.

Snagrim suppressed all superfluous expressions, pulled down the brim of his military cap to cover half his face, drew his well-maintained Imperial bolter from his waist, and pulled the trigger.

"Here it comes."

""

Amidst the dust, a series of bright red vehicles came into view.