Chapter 543 - 602

  Chapter 601 Death Watch: Death of Time (Part 2)

  [You take a deep breath and then exhale slowly.]

  [You fully understand the vigilance and alertness of these Sons of Medusa towards you.]

  [After all, not everyone can easily accept the help and kindness brought by a strange "little golden man" that fell from the sky. ]

  ["You can think of me as an angel sent by the Emperor, a savior from outside of time, and the twenty-second loyal Primarch of the Human Empire."]

  [At this moment, your low voice echoed in the air around you. ]

  [The living metal between the skull helmets slowly peeled off your entire head like a molten sticky liquid, enveloping the vibranium modules one by one, completely revealing your bronze face and short gray hair.]

  ["What did you say? The loyalist primarch?"]

  ["Wait, if my database is correct, it should be the living metal of the Necrons or some other alien technology... Moreover, the casting sophistication of the power armor you are wearing far exceeds that of ordinary fine power armor. It is not a precious equipment that an ordinary chapter can easily afford."]

  [At this moment, the leading Terminator veteran first carefully looked at the power armor Spark Glory on you for a long time, and then turned his cold eyes hidden behind the eyepiece to your face. ]

  ["In addition, no alien race or heretic traitor would pay such a high price to deceive an Astartes strike team that has unfortunately failed in its combat mission. Most importantly, my automatic premonition system has made a basic judgment on your previous combat data. You are a big shot with combat power far exceeding that of the Astartes. Even if all of us present pay the price of all dying in battle, the final chance of winning is less than 10%…"]

  [At this moment, the cold and hard words of the Terminator veteran continue to reach your ears. ]

  [However, just when you subconsciously thought that the other party would definitely end his words with a transitional word like "but". ]

  ["…Captain Slaer, a veteran of the Terminator class of the Sons of Medusa Chapter and the Machira Battle Clan, leads the surviving members of the strike team to meet the twenty-second Primarch!"]

  [The next second, as the Terminator veteran's ceramic knee armor slammed to his knees, an unexpected collision sound was heard.]

  [The Sons of Medusa standing around also quickly dropped the grenade launchers in their hands, knelt on one knee in their power armor, and lowered their metal helmets.]

  [The Mordian Iron Guards, who were now only about twenty people left, looked at each other. ]

  [With expressions full of confusion and doubt, they had no choice but to kneel on one knee, and subconsciously performed the standard Sky Eagle Salute with their hands.]

  [You raised your eyebrows slightly, and even the corners of your mouth twitched a few times in a very subtle way.]

  [To be honest, you were a little shocked by the Terminator veteran's 180-degree turn in his attitude.]

  [After all, there is no natural worship and closeness that the descendants of the genes have for the original gene, which is rooted in their blood. ]

  [Whether the Sons of Medusa, who split from the Iron Hands Chapter because of the huge conflict caused by Morley's teachings in the past, can recognize your identity as the Primarch is still an unknown question worth pondering.]

  [A few seconds ago, you were even mentally prepared to hit them. ]

  ["Then stand up first. Remember, I don't like others to kneel down to me, fighting brothers."]

  [You gently shook your short gray-haired head and spoke slowly to the people in front of you in a low voice.]

  ["Now, can you explain to me in detail your combat mission this time? Also, what are those mysterious aliens that occupy the Holy Land? Why do they have the ability to age in time? How much do you, the Sons of Medusa, know about this?"]

  [You just finished speaking.]

  [Captain Slaer, the Terminator veteran driving the power armor, quickly stood up from the ground. ]

  [He casually took off the dog-shaped metal helmet covering his smooth head, revealing a terrifying face covered with explosion scars all over and the other half of his face transformed with a mechanical prosthetic eye.]

  ["They are called space rats, or Hruds. This ancient alien species is born with a racial talent called 'entropy energy'. The specific manifestation is that it can generate a mysterious force field about one and a half meters outside the body that can accelerate the passage of time."]

  ["If that were all, they wouldn't be that difficult to deal with. Even the Mordian Guards could easily destroy them with a large number of heavy vehicles and long-range attacks. But once the number of Hrud reaches a certain saturation state, or even forms a nomadic tribe that can support migration, it will be a desperate and terrifying natural disaster for any world, because their racial innate 'entropy' force field will quickly become stronger as their number increases."]

  ["My Lord Primarch, unfortunately, what our Sons of Medusa Chapter encountered was a nomadic tribe of Hrud that accidentally migrated to the underground of the Holy World through a space-time rift, rather than the scattered number of alien races we learned about before our arrival. Otherwise, we would not have led a strike team with little heavy vehicle support and hastily launched an alien cleanup war with only a few regiments of the Mordian Iron Guard."]

  [At this moment, the Terminator veteran Captain Slayer, whose mechanical prosthetic eye was glowing red, spoke in a low voice without any emotion, which gradually made you fall into a state of contemplation.]

  [According to the current situation, even with your desperate help as the Primarch, we are only relying on nine Astartes and more than twenty mortal warriors.]

  [It is simply wishful thinking to want to fight against an entire tribe of Hrud. ]

  [At the same time, you also vaguely remember that even the rebellious primarch Perturabo during the Great Crusade accidentally suffered a great loss when facing this terrifying alien that can control time...]

  [Even if you have experienced countless ways of dying, you don't want to experience the feeling of aging to death for the time being. ]

  ["Battle Brother, this is no longer something that can be easily solved by a strike team of the Sons of Medusa Chapter, or by brute force by a Primarch like me."]

  ["We must ask the outside world for reinforcements to arrive here. Where is your spaceship parked in the Holy Land? Can we contact the astropaths there now?"]

  [You quickly return to reality from your hazy memories.]

  [The expression on your face gradually became serious, and you immediately asked Captain Slaer, a veteran Terminator soldier standing not far away, in a deep voice.]

  ["Your Excellency, all of us are here on a Sword-class frigate, which is now in the Holy Land's low-Earth orbit. But the problem right now is that the time aftershocks caused by the long-term release of the Hrud's 'entropy energy' force field have seriously interfered with various frequency bands. Even the short-frequency communication device inside the armor is unlikely to successfully transmit important information back to the ship. We can only complete a physical information transmission by seizing the flying vehicle."]

  [At this moment, the Terminator veteran from the Son of Medusa slowly put the dog-shaped metal helmet back on his head, and then he spoke to you in a muffled voice.]

  ["Good news, there are plenty of flying vehicles in the city. The few Thunderhawk gunboats we temporarily abandoned around the front line should still be intact. Bad news, we may need to pass through most of the Death City area occupied by the Hrud."]

  ["Then, my strange Primarch, do you have any suggestions or opinions on this? As an Astartes, I am all ears."]

  [At this moment, the other party's words, which were clearly meant to provoke him, had just fallen.]

  [As the vibranium modules are wrapped in countless living metals, they quickly spread over your entire head again.]

  [Your bronze face, which always maintained a calm expression, was completely covered by a pale golden hideous skull mask! ]

  ["Well, there is no need for that. You have done a good enough job as an Astartes commander…"]

  ["Next, it's my turn as the Primarch to carve out a way for you to survive!"]

   Thank you for your support!

  (End of this chapter)