Zeus's grace is higher than the sky

In Nurgle's Plague Garden, "Scarbela Sachs" carries a rotting blade, the pus dripping from it forming streams on the ground—this ancient, unclean being predating humanity's establishment of the Empire, had swept through more than a dozen primordial star systems with its plague before the Great Crusade, and resides in the "Blight Pit," the very heart of Nurgle, and is the "Rotten Messenger" most favored by the evil gods.

The withered hand patted his shoulder: "Go and coat the metal with rust."

Scarabella Sachs chuckled, the Great Unclean One dragging a plague jar behind him, the plague carriers scattering putrid spores, following a dark green warp portal, slowly but steadily moving towards Grammer.

Outside the Slaanesh's palace of pleasure, "Vallerius" is using the energy of desire to outline the phantom of a Grammer politician—a Slaanesh archdatr born at the end of the Eldar's Age of Pleasure, existing tens of thousands of years before Horus and the Primarchs, who once helped the Slaanesh devour several star systems by inducing the nobles of alien civilizations to indulge in pleasure and destroy their defenses.

Slaanesh's sweet voice whispered in his ear: "Go and seduce those who are greedy for power."

Valerius chuckled, and the demons of pleasure behind him transformed into wisps of desire, sliding towards Grammer along the aura of ambition drifting through the warp, intending to sneak into the cracks of the council and hollow out its foundations of order with their desires.

The Emperor's advance party had already secretly observed the Grammer forces and sent the news back to Holy Terra.

The minions of the four Warp Gods are also crossing the Warp Rift and heading towards Grammer.

The stalemate that had lasted for countless years has finally taken a turn for the better.

For the Emperor, this newly encountered human force represented a potential hope for breaking the shackles of the Warp.

For the four evil gods, this newly encountered civilization was a good opportunity to disrupt the chaos and tear apart the emperor's defenses.

The tens of thousands of years-long standoff between the warp gods and the material universe's human empire began to veer in an unpredictable direction because of this initial contact.

......

The green-skinned scout used his blood-stained claws to circle the coordinates of the Grammer border command post on the star map.

"The silver-white metal enclosure is right here, and we saw a lot of mechanical little guys going in and out!"

Zeus looked up and caught Metatron staring at him through the reflective metal panel—his grey Grammer uniform, with its sleek interstellar lines, was completely different from the simple power armor the Greenskins usually wore. Metatron was gently stroking the technological patterns on the hem of his uniform, a hint of curiosity in his eyes.

"Look at this outfit, it's so cool, I feel like the protagonist in a game right now."

"Don't delay, let's go."

The moment the sentry's searchlight swept across the area, Metatron precisely crushed the patrolman's communicator, while Fanlou activated the jamming program, causing the monitoring screen to briefly display static. Zeus then easily opened the door, which was encrypted with multiple layers of keys, without firing a single shot. The three of them entered the core communications room of the command center.

Fanlou connected to Grammer's line, and a jumble of encrypted code flowed rapidly across the screen. Layer by layer, the encrypted messages were deciphered, and countless messages appeared on the screen—including a warning from Grammer's central command about "abnormal fluctuations in an unknown mental space," instructions for "tactical adjustments after Titania's awakening," and a "contingency plan for dealing with unknown human forces (referring to the Emperor's advance team)."

Intelligence related to Titania was classified at the highest level and could only be transmitted offline by designated personnel.

Metatron stood guard at the entrance, while the battle cries of the Orks echoed from the outskirts of the combat zone. Despite possessing superior technology compared to the Orks, the Grammer army's numerical and morale disadvantage meant they had to fight with all their might every time they faced the Orks. All border forces had been redeployed to the main battlefield, and no one paid attention to the disrupted surveillance.

Zeus learned of Grammer's troop deployment, clues about its central location, their vague awareness of the threat to the subspace, and most importantly—the Grammer cavalry experimental deployment plan.

When the last piece of the coded message was deciphered, Fanlou quickly disconnected and cleared the traces of the intrusion. The three of them quietly withdrew without leaving any trace of anything unusual. The equipment in the communications room was still operating normally, and no one noticed that the core intelligence had been intercepted.

Back at the Greenskin Command Post, Metatron muttered to himself.

On the way back, Metatron wanted to acquire a weapon from Grammer, but Zeus refused.

"Why go through all this trouble? I could easily plow them two or three times by myself."

Although Metatron lacked fighting spirit, had poor tactics, and her skills were almost nonexistent, she had one advantage that allowed her to completely overshadow these shortcomings in her fight against the Grammer forces.

Absolute numerical values.

The numbers were beyond question. Even when seeking answers from absolute wisdom, the only answer would be—use your invincible numbers. Naturally, after receiving answers from astonishing wisdom multiple times, Metatron's mind became so smooth that he no longer needed to think before wanting to use his extraordinary power.

Chapter 278 Visit and Establishment of Diplomatic Relations

Seeing Zeus and Fanlou looking at him with expressions of pity for an idiot, Metatron instantly exploded.

"What do you mean by those looks! Am I wrong?"

“First of all, Metatron, we’re not here to play a hack-and-slash game. Secondly, using power far beyond what is currently available will disrupt the causal chain and cause some trouble. Finally, if you continue like this, I will give Michael and Gabriel a full report on your performance afterward.”

Metatron was overjoyed when he first arrived on the Greenskin planet and didn't receive any response from Michael and Gabriel, so he became a little unruly during this time.

But as soon as Zeus finished speaking, Metatron froze completely.

"Lord Zeus, you...you know them?"

Metatron desperately wanted to hear a negative answer, but clearly, that was wishful thinking.

"Before they came here, they specifically asked me to take good care of you."

Zeus deliberately emphasized the word "care," as Michael and Gabriel were well aware of Metatron's character, and entrusting Zeus with his care naturally implied a sense of supervision.

Metatron stalled instantly.

"I understand, please don't tell those two."

"We'll see how you perform from now on."

......

Before the Golden Throne of Holy Terra, the Inquisitor presented all the intelligence brought back by the advance team one by one—the data clearly confirmed that Grammer was a human interstellar nation with an independent star system and autonomous technology system. It was neither a puppet of the Chaos forces nor a vassal of the Xenomorphs, and its mode of governance was completely different from the centralized structure of the Empire.

The Emperor's will was transmitted through the psionic barrier, issuing clear instructions.

"End covert surveillance and initiate formal diplomatic procedures."

After confirming an official visit with the Grammer diplomatic mission, a visiting fleet painted with the imperial crimson and gold insignia set sail from the port of Holy Terra.

Inside the flagship's bridge, the think tank director was repeatedly calibrating Grammer's star system coordinates to ensure the route avoided all potentially chaotic areas, while the Star Speaker team was working hard to debug the communication equipment to adapt to Grammer's signal frequency band in preparation for establishing stable communication.

The fleet sailed at a steady subspace speed toward the Grammer border. After arriving at the agreed diplomatic meeting point, the escort ships around the visiting ship handed over their defense duties and then proceeded to the designated port of call to await the visiting ship's return.

Then, the steady human voice of an Imperial diplomat came through the communication channel, conveying the Empire's rare willingness to engage in formal dialogue with a non-subordinate human civilization to this unfamiliar yet shared human nation.

......

In the diplomatic docking zone at the Grammer border, stardust spreads out in long, thin bands of light across the void.

The golden insignia of the Imperial visiting fleet slowly appeared on the monitoring screen, and no one in the command center raised any further doubts about the "real stinging insect decoy signal".

Even before receiving the access request, Grammer's technical team had repeatedly verified the Imperial fleet's energy signature and communication frequency bands, confirming that it was genuine contact from a similar civilization, rather than a trap set by the Zerg swarm.

Soon, several Grammer reception ships, painted with silver-white streamlined hulls, sailed out of the starport. The ships were not equipped with heavy weapons, but instead had guide lights that indicated "the highest level of courtesy" on them.

They docked precisely with the Imperial fleet, and Grammer's reception officer, dressed in a magnificent uniform, boarded the Imperial flagship with an undisguised joy and solemnity on his face.

For a civilization accustomed to "either conquer or be devoured by the swarm," the emergence of a powerful similar civilization is nothing short of a ray of light in the darkness.

During the voyage to Grammer, the Grammer Commissioner took the initiative to introduce the ship to the captain of the Imperial visiting fleet.

"The breeding swarms and true swarms in the surrounding star systems have already put us under immense pressure. Thank you for coming; we are no longer alone in facing these threats."

When the fleet arrived at the orbit of Grammer's main star, the giant spaceport on the ground had already been cleared out, and countless silver-white mechanical soldiers were lined up in neat rows.

The large screen at the top of the airport tower was playing footage of Grammer fighting the Zerg swarm—both a demonstration of strength and a signal to the Empire of a "common enemy."

At this moment, two vastly different human interstellar nations, driven by a shared threat and a desire for allies, officially began their first contact.

......

The green-skinned tribes under Zeus's command have long since lost their chaotic state of "cutting down anything they see".

Before each attack on an enemy stronghold, the headhunting guys would carry megaphones and shout around the civilian residential areas.

"Get out of here if you don't want to die! A fight is about to break out!"

Although the rough, hoarse voice carried a sense of intimidation, it actually gave those unarmed shrimps time to evacuate.

After conquering the planet, an even more unusual scene unfolded—the Greenskins, who were supposed to loot and burn everything, actually sent their lads to patrol around the farmland and factories.

If any mischievous rascal tries to steal tools from civilians, the centurion will kick him away: "The boss said these shrimps are for farming and making things! If you dare to cause trouble, I'll throw you to feed the Squigs!"

The green-skinned animals that once only caused destruction have now become a "protective umbrella" for ordinary people's production. Looking at the shrimp working in the fields and the machines running in the factories, even the most senior boss couldn't help but mutter to himself.

"It's a bit strange, but with food, drink, and ammunition, it seems... not bad?"

This change, aimed at ensuring logistics and proactively protecting civilians, allowed this Greenskin tribe to completely break away from the chaotic nature of traditional Greenskins, becoming a unique and peculiar force in the star system.

Scouts from all sides reported back one after another: this greenskins do not slaughter civilians, but also protect the operation of factories, and may even disperse the shrimp around the battlefield in advance.

These unusual actions made the leaders of several small surrounding factions uneasy. Compared to their own rule, the Greenskins' colonization seemed more human-like. The common people either fled or hoped that one day the Greenskins would come to their doorstep and become their collaborators.

They reported the intelligence up the chain of command, hoping that the Empire would intervene to control this "abnormal greenskins".

However, when the intelligence was delivered to the imperial high command, it was only hastily filed away.

At this moment, Holy Terra and the frontline fleet are focused all their energy on the first visit to Grammer.

From the etiquette details of the fleet docking to the core issues discussed between the two sides, and the assessment of the strength of this unfamiliar human nation, every matter needs to be carefully considered.

Nobody cared about that "more disciplined green-skinned" force at the edge of the star field.

After all, in the eyes of the Empire, even the most unusual Greenskins could not cause much of a stir, but contact with Grammer was of paramount importance concerning the future of human civilization.

And so, this green-skinned tribe, under the watchful eyes of various forces and the neglect of the empire, continued to operate and accumulate power in its own way.

Chapter 279 Green-skinned Japanese Inspector Please Come Inside

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Zeus's greenskin leader, "Ironhead Bonebreaker," slammed his power hammer, taller than a man, against the base of the city wall, causing the ground to tremble so violently that the entire city's defenders could feel it.

He opened his large mouth, full of sharp teeth, and roared at the human soldiers on the city wall through a crudely made megaphone.

"Listen up, you bastards! I am Ironskull Bonebreaker! The bravest warrior in the tribe! Today I'm going to smash this wretched city to pieces and then enslave you!"

"Once we win, you'll have to work a full eight hours a day for us! We'll only provide you with three meals a day plus snacks! You'll even get milk in the morning! We'll only give you one hour for lunch! We'll make sure you're completely exhausted!"

"Next up! It's time for our green-skinned 'hellish torture'! We only get bonuses three times a year! And only two months of annual leave! The worst part is, we only get a raise every four months!"

The human soldiers on the city wall froze for a moment, then looked at each other with undisguised astonishment in their eyes, as if they had heard something unbelievable.

Seeing the human soldiers on the city wall all dumbfounded and no longer shouting, Ironhead Bonebreaker's face immediately lit up with joy.

He threw the megaphone hard onto the ground, and it bounced twice before losing its sound.

Ironskull Shatterer hoisted the power warhammer, which was wider than himself, and strode towards the camp, the tip of the hammer drawing sparks across the ground.

As soon as he returned to the camp, he turned around impatiently, patted his muscular chest, and shouted at the boys who surrounded him.

"See that?! How ruthless was my declaration of enslavement just now! Eight hours of work a day, three meals plus snacks—those were tortures I racked my brains to come up with! Those shrimps were so scared their legs went weak, some even cried out in fear. This time, they definitely won't surrender before the battle even begins! Today, we're going to have a really epic Waaaagh battle! I'll let you kids have your fill of war!"

Upon hearing this, the surrounding green-skinned boys waved their chainsaw swords and bomb guns, cheering "Waaaagh! Waaaagh!" The entire camp was filled with the frenzied atmosphere of an impending battle.

Before the cheers from the green-skinned camp could reach the city walls, the barracks of the human city's defenders were already in an uproar.

Young soldier Tom slammed his helmet on the table, his voice low but barely concealing his excitement.

"An 8-hour workday! Plus annual leave and bonuses! We're stuck guarding this crumbling city, getting less than 4 hours of sleep a day, eating expired rations every meal. Compared to that, it's pure torture!"

Corporal Miller next to him frowned and nodded, his fingers tapping unconsciously on the table.

“The higher-ups have long treated us like expendable resources. Last time, three of our brothers were injured while defending the city, and they didn’t even give us any decent medicine. The ‘enslavement’ those green-skinned men talk about sounds like the good life we’ve been waiting for all our lives.”

As they were talking, the dormitory door was gently pushed open, and Lieutenant Hank poked his head in, his eyes scanning the people inside.

"Stop shouting, I just went to the armory and overheard two veterans talking about this."

He closed the door and continued speaking in a low voice.

"We have no hope of defending this city, so why don't we... become traitors? When the Greenskins attack, we can shut down the defensive power lines at the west gate. That's better than dying here."

Tom's eyes lit up instantly, Miller clenched his fists, and the soldiers in the room looked at each other before nodding emphatically. Hank pulled a crumpled city defense map from his pocket and spread it out on the table.

"The main switch for the power grid at the West Gate is in the underground machine room. I know the guard there, so I'll distract him. Tom, you go and turn off the switch. Miller, take two men and keep an eye on the watchtower—we have to do it cleanly so the people up there don't notice."

The sun hadn't completely set outside the window, and the wind in the city carried the faint howls of the green-skinned soldiers' camp. Meanwhile, in the garrison's barracks, a plan about "betrayal" was quietly being finalized, accompanied by expectations of "slave treatment."

As night fell, Hank, along with Tom, Miller, and the others, moved along the shadows at the base of the city wall.

Thanks to their familiarity with the shift changes and patrol routes, they bypassed three waves of guards and even used Miller's old friendship with the watchtower veterans to slip past a temporary checkpoint and smoothly sneak into the underground machine room.

Only a dim emergency light was on in the computer room, and the whirring main power switch box stood in the corner, with a warning sign on its metal casing that read "Unauthorized personnel are prohibited from touching it."

Hank and Miller immediately stood guard at the door, while Tom rubbed his hands together and leaned closer to the light switch, his eyes filled with longing for the "8-hour workday," a life he could never even dream of.

His fingertips had already touched the red lever—he was too excited to notice the side of the switch box.

An inconspicuous black probe was flashing a faint red light; it was an infrared scanning alarm he had never seen before, specifically designed to monitor unauthorized physical contact.

"Click".

Just as Tom's finger was about to pull the lever, the alarm suddenly sounded softly, followed by a piercing siren that shattered the silence of the underground server room. The red warning lights flashed wildly, illuminating the faces of the group ashen white.

The next moment, "Bang! Bang!" Several gunshots suddenly rang out.

Hank, Tom, and Miller instinctively crouched down, their hearts pounding as they thought they were about to be shot. Just as despair crossed their minds, they realized they felt no pain at all—instead, the piercing alarm suddenly stopped.

The group looked up stiffly and saw two sentries in military uniforms standing at the entrance to the server room, their pistols still smoking, while the infrared scanning alarm on the ground was smashed to pieces.

One of the sentries put away his gun and muttered a curse in a low voice.