The Bizarre Adventures of the Oil Man, but Starting with Warhammer 32K

Karkes quickly connected with the Skitarii's field of vision and discovered that a massive mechanical construct was approaching them. Surrounding the construct were dozens of damaged cybernetic robots.

After recognizing the other party's identity, Kalks exclaimed in surprise.

"Master Casting General!"

The Kubik before him was completely different from the majestic casting general in his memory.

His mechanical body was covered with bullet holes and charred marks from overloaded logic pipelines. The original data throne was nowhere to be found, replaced by a crude, hastily assembled vehicle.

"Sage Karkes..."

Kubik questioned his close follower in a hoarse voice.

"Why are you here?"

PS: Although the oil men are cold and calculating, they actually respect the corpses of (their own people).

The remains of priests and sages will be buried on Mars, usually at the foot of Mount Olympus on Mars - they believe that it is the place closest to Om Messiah, where they will return to the arms of Om Messiah (in fact, it is indeed the closest place to the Void Dragon that ordinary priests can reach).

So having a corpse desecrated is also a terrifying thing for them.

Of course, they didn't consider anyone who wasn't even a priest to be one of their own. The apprentice and the others should pack up and meet in the corpse starch machine.

Chapter 178: Skarbrand the Exile.

Karkes was stunned for a moment, then replied: "We have received your urgent transfer order, Lord Casting General. Lava City needs reinforcements, so we..."

"My transfer order?"

Kubik's voice suddenly rose. "I never issued any transfer orders!"

Karkes's face turned pale in an instant. Considering the embarrassed Casting General in front of him, his logical circuit quickly deduced a terrible conclusion.

He didn't dare admit that this conclusion was true, and could only tremble and reconfirm to the Casting General: "But... we did receive your authorization key and order, requiring us to quickly reinforce Lava City..."

"It's Augustus! The traitor! He forged my identity!"

Kubik didn't know how he had done it, but it was obvious. He quickly took command of the Skitarii: "Where are the rest of our troops?"

"There are still 300,000 men stationed in their positions, and they are engaging a large number of out-of-control servitors."

Karkes had no idea what fate had befallen the 300,000 defenders.

"Out of control servitor?"

Kubik knew that this must be the work of Vashtor, but he also did not think that 300,000 Crusader Army could be easily defeated.

"Turn back, we will reunite with the 300,000 Skitarii and then retreat."

"Why, General? Shouldn't we nip the unrest in Lava City in the bud? As long as we cooperate with your intelligent control corps..."

Before he could finish his words, a low rumble suddenly erupted from the distant horizon. Kubik and Karkes turned their heads simultaneously to see a dark mass of figures approaching from the direction of Lava City.

It is Kubik's intelligent control army.

They no longer belonged to Kubik. The bloodthirsty red light flashing in the eyes of these mecha soldiers, which was exactly the same as that of the out-of-control mecha servants, made Karks realize the seriousness of the problem again.

"Retreat, retreat!"

He gave the order at the top of his voice.

The formation of Karkes's Skitarii turned with difficulty among the sand dunes outside the lava city.

Forge General Kubik huddled within a makeshift vehicle, his logic swirling with icy rage—Augus's betrayal, Vashtor's appearance, the out-of-control Cybernetic Corps...everything was eroding his dignity as the King of Mars.

"I must regain control of the situation on Mars," he deduced, "as long as the Titan Legion is willing to send troops..."

However, their retreat was not smooth.

Just as they left the sight of Lava City, a group of dark figures appeared on the horizon in the direction of their retreat.

That was the undead army led by Vic.

Countless twisted steel ghouls surged from the horizon, rusted war engines towering like tombstones among them, and blasphemous binary chants exploded across the Skitarii's communication channels:

"Gears rusted, pipelines dried up—this is the end bestowed upon you by the God of All Machines!"

The unexpected opponent threw the Crusaders, who were completely unprepared, into chaos. They were advancing in a marching formation and were hit head-on by the army of ghouls.

"Where did they come from?!"

No one knew the answer, but everyone knew that the remaining 300,000 Skitarii had met with disaster. They were engaged in a desperate battle on the wasteland of Mars.

The battle did not last long, and the corrupted intelligent robots that came from Lava City surrounded Victor's undead army.

Karkes tried to struggle, but Viktor's blasphemous chants directed at the ghoul army disrupted his command channel. Unprepared for the incense and holy oils that interfered with his attack, the Skitarii had no chance of recovery.

Karkes' bionic face twitched as he opened Kubik's makeshift vehicle: "My lord, we must..."

He was shocked to find that the vehicle was empty and Kubik had disappeared without a trace.

"People? I'm the forged general?!"

Realizing the situation was irreversible, Kubik had no intention of being buried with the Skitarii. He was the first to flee, and the remaining sages and priests lost their will to fight.

Everyone was thinking about finding a way out for themselves, and the battlefield had completely turned into a slaughterhouse.

Of course, Victor noticed that they were fleeing the battlefield, and he had no intention of stopping them.

Let these sages who cherish their lives to survive for a while longer. His target has always been these crusaders.

"Speed ​​up and don't leave anyone alive."

He ordered coldly.

"Let us welcome the arrival of our Lord's allies!"

-

Looking at the collapsed battlefield, Cooper was surprised to find that the situation was exactly as Leon had expected.

"A total of 900,000 Skitarii are finished like this?"

He was in disbelief.

"When you're being plotted against at every turn, it only takes a moment for the entire army to be wiped out."

Leon replied.

He hadn't figured out why those who had demonstrated the ability to corrupt machinery didn't take the abandoned Skitarii into their fold, though.

Amidel, who accompanied him on the close reconnaissance, discovered something wrong.

"Those Skitarii are counterattacking more and more frequently."

Leon observed carefully and found that the Crusaders who had lost the command of the Sage were indeed fighting bravely, but their fighting style was far from the rational style of the Mechanicus.

In the formation that should have collapsed, more and more Crusader soldiers' pupils glowed with a strange red light.

They discarded their damaged weapons and used their exposed metal knuckles to tear open the throats of the ghouls. Soldiers with severed limbs crawled and detonated the reactors on their bodies, as if they were performing some kind of insane sacrifice.

"Their machine souls are not in the right condition."

Cooper Road.

"It's not a machine spirit."

Leon was quite familiar with this. After all, he had seen a similar summoning scene in Covenant Harbor before. "It was some hungry big guy drooling at the dining table."

As if in response to his words, as 880,000 Crusader soldiers fell on the battlefield, the sky here suddenly cracked.

The Warp rift streaked across the sky like a crimson scar, and the sound of brass horns shattered the clouds.

A bloodthirsty demon couldn't wait to squeeze out of the crack and set foot on the ground of Mars.

Behind him the Khorne horde poured out: "Skulls! Skulls! Skulls!"

The allies that Vashtor found finally appeared, and the battle lost its suspense after the arrival of this great demon.

Even though they did not intervene in the battle, the Iron Hands and Soul Drinkers beside Leon felt nervous.

Cooper no longer has to worry about Mars coming after him, but things have developed to a point that is even more serious than a settlement.

He couldn't help but turn his head to look at Li Ang and asked tentatively: "When do you plan to return to the Mountain Array?"

"Don't worry, you can't see such a good show at any time."

Leon watched with great interest the Great Demon of Khorne who was holding a two-handed axe and was invincible among the Crusaders. The opponent's wings were taken away by the Blood God, leaving only a charred skeleton. Leon recognized his identity through these wings.

Skarbrand the Exile, the former Great Daemon who can never return to Khorne's service.

"I was wondering who was coming, but it turned out to be this stray dog. But then again, Khorne wouldn't be interested in the worthless heads of the Skitarii. Only he could stomach these sacrifices that reek of rancid motor oil."

If someone said that this plan was made by Scarbrand, Leon would not believe a word of it.

If this guy had any brains, he wouldn't be fooled by Tzeentch into picking up an axe and attacking the gnolls. At best, he is a top fighter on Mars. There must be someone else behind Augustus.

He planned to lie in wait patiently for a while to see if he could capture more information from the changes on the battlefield.

-

Skarbrand's great axe split the last of the Dunewalkers apart, and the oil from the Skitarii, which served as wetware in the crawler, splattered and dripped down the axe blade onto the Martian sand.

He roared to the sky, his broken bat wings trembling and stirring up a bloody wind, while the whine of gears rubbing against each other could still be heard from the pile of Crusader wreckage at his feet.

It reminded him of the wonderful moment before he was exiled when he offered the skull to Khorne - the same burning heat, the same sweet taste.

The only pity is that these oil men do not have the blood he desires.

"How much more time are you going to waste?"

The sudden sound in his ears drowned out the clamor of the battlefield that the exiles were enjoying, and the shadow of Vashtor emerged from the shattered war engine.

His electronic eyes scanned the oil flowing all over the ground: "Is this scrap metal worth stopping for a Blood God Demon like you?"

"Shut up!"

Skarbrand's nostrils spurted out sulfur sparks: "How dare a weak lesser god give orders to the champion of the Blood God? Believe it or not, I will put your gear into-"

"Put it in the Forge of Khorne? That's if you can even step into the Blood God's realm."

Vashtor, or perhaps all the great demons, knew the past deeds of this exile who had become a laughing stock: "Eight hundred and seventy-four attempts, eight hundred and seventy-four rejections from the Blood Grind Fortress. Do you need me to play the video of you kneeling in front of the brass gate and gnawing on the chain?"

Skarbrand's axe blade ignited with the flames of the Warp, intending to rip the rude God of Craftsmen into pieces. But Vashtor simply threw out a contract, and Skarbrand froze instantly upon seeing it.

"Are you awake now? According to the contract, you must plunder no less than twelve Forge Temples for me."

"Twelve? You clearly said before that when Mars teleports away, we just need to stop those who want to stop the teleportation!"

"There's been a change of plans, and I've included these conditions in the addendum."

Vashtor pointed to the tiny, sesame-sized print on the last few pages of the contract and said, "I always follow the contract."

Skarbrand was furious: "Don't you dare talk nonsense just because I haven't even read the contract!"

Of course, Vashtor could force Skarbrand to continue serving him according to the effectiveness of the contract, but he decided to fully mobilize the work enthusiasm of this best employee of the year first.

He beckoned, "According to the agreement, for every production line you seize for me, you will receive 30% of the production capacity, which you will personally deliver to the Forges of Khorne. Just think, when the Blood God's Daemon Engines fill the galaxy, who will once again be worthy of standing before the Brass Throne?"

Skarbrand was stunned, and his mind couldn't help but start to imagine:

Khorne's axes, forged from Martian adamantium, split the armour of the Custodians, while Profane Knights and Chaos Titans crushed the Emperor's statues into dust. Most importantly, all creation will be branded with Skarbrand's name - his tribute to the Blood God!

"make a deal."

Skarbrand plunged the axe blade into the ground. "Which hive should we start with?"

"There's no rush to capture the hive. We need to start snowballing from the small forging temples on the periphery."

Vashtor had a clear goal. He conjured a map and pointed the way for the exile: "The Macharius Foundry has production lines for some of the vehicles on Mars. I need to turn them into my own demon engine production line. Of course, more importantly, I've received intelligence that a great sage named Cawl is conducting his shady experiments there."

"You are also interested in the technology of mortals?"

"Why not? The concepts we uphold all originate from the real universe. Be careful not to crush the great sage to death. If possible, bring him to my side."

Skarbrand snorted in dissatisfaction. "You won't come with me?"

"Until you seize more production lines, my true body cannot descend into the real universe. Besides, I have things to do in the Warp. A sage named Leon—his reinforcements are on the way. I will join forces with another great demon to block his reinforcements in the Warp."

"Another great demon? Who?"

"You won't be unfamiliar with him. It's Makkachen."

"You're actually working with Tzeentch's minions!"

Skarbrand wanted to rage, but realized that earning the Blood God's forgiveness was more important. He gave up, picked up his axe, and walked towards Macharius's forge.