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

Beziak's body hit the ground heavily with a dull thud.

There was a dead silence all around. Soul Drinker and Wangerlich remained in their fighting stances, stunned by this unexpected victory.

"What are you doing standing still?"

Leon stepped forward and kicked the already dying Beziak, "Go cut off the power supply to that device!"

Everyone finally woke up, turning and running towards the giant spherical device, with Leon following suit. Xie Ri, already impatient, rushed out and took charge of Beziak, who was now powerless to resist.

"Hehehe! Let me see what good stuff this old guy has!"

He excitedly pounced on Beziak and began to search for spoils. He didn't find anything interesting, but he absorbed the power of thought that emanated from Beziak, causing his body to visibly expand.

"you……"

Beziak raised his head with difficulty and stared at the orc who betrayed his own people. "Why... betray me...?"

Xie Ri stopped searching and spat in disdain.

"What the hell? Pah! Fighting with the Master Technician Leon is much more exciting than fighting with you green-skinned idiots! The things I fought with him are all real weapons, and your junk is not even worthy of carrying the Master Technician's shoes!"

He imitated Leon and kicked Beziak, then ran towards Leon attentively.

"Master, listen to me! I think I know how to fix this device!"

Beziak's face twisted.

He had never thought that he would witness with his own eyes an orc - a greenskin born for battle - submitting to humans so calmly and even feeling proud of it?

But the greenskins will not be defeated.

They will eventually be united by the will of the devil and launch a great Waaagh against the entire galaxy!

"Red boy!"

He roared at Leon with his last bit of strength: "Do you think taming a beast is victory? Do you think you can sit back and relax after taming a greenskin? Just wait, when Brother Gao and Brother Mao return, the beasts you tamed will betray you. All of you shrimps will..."

The azure plasma beam melted his head and blocked his chattering mouth.

Beziak's body was completely stiff, and his life was coming to an end.

Leon blew on the muzzle of his plasma pistol and looked at Beziak's body thoughtfully.

He hadn't intended to fire the shot, but the other party's words hit the mark of his concern.

The return of the fucking...

In the original Beast Wars, although the Orks eventually forced the Salamander Primarch Vorkan to death, at least Gosh didn't really return.

The orcs' behavior surprised even Leon, who had a basic understanding of history. The entire Beast War had completely changed, and there was no telling what new developments might emerge.

But he'll take it one step at a time. At least he's determined to let Xie Ri form a clan specializing in engineering.

He turned around and looked at Xie Ri who was busy at the operating table of the device. This technical master who had received a new round of enhancements quickly figured out the workings of this device.

He pulled out one of the pipes and triumphantly announced to Leon, "I think this way, the warlord's reinforcements won't work!"

Leon nodded, then turned back and told Amidel to go back and aid Kurland and the others, and bring them with him to support the Black Templars above. He himself would stay here and study the Waaaagh energy core with Xie Ri.

Amidel naturally accepted the order, but Wangolichi was also present.

The strengthened Evil Sun could no longer conceal his orc identity. Wangolichi looked at the greenskin who was fawning behind Leon, his eyes full of shock.

That Black Stone Dagger, and this orc... How many secrets does Leon have?

He wanted to ask something, but found that he didn't know where to start.

Li Ang noticed this great mentor and kindly reminded him:

"Go back. The most crucial battle on Battle Moon is over. Go and continue planning your plans for Terra."

"I'm not sure you're still reliable."

Wangerich speaks his mind honestly.

Li Ang glanced at him and said, "The fact that you can ask this question in front of me means that you think I am reliable."

"Who knows? I'm a little confused myself. Maybe I just don't have a choice."

"It's enough to just know what you want to do, isn't it?"

What to do

Wangerich certainly knew.

Udo, Tours, Meslin, even Veritus... they all deserved to die.

His confusion was swept away, and he picked up the completely useless Larriel and planned to return to Terra, but Leon stopped him.

"You have to keep that Eldar clown for me. He can still be of some use to me."

Chapter 218: The mind is more powerful than things?

The surviving Black Templars surrounded Lancelot in the center, and everyone knelt on one knee devoutly. The head priest anointed Lancelot with holy oil and held a ceremony to receive the armor of faith.

This was the scene he saw when Kurland, who was rescued by Amidel, led his troops back to the palace hall.

"The Black Templars took down the Orc warlords alone?"

Kurland didn't quite believe it, but when he saw the armor-bearing ceremony, he suddenly understood: "Emperor's Champion?"

He had no comment on the Black Templars' mysterious method of selecting the Emperor's Champion, but he could not refute the Emperor's Champion's strength.

But he was surprised when he saw that the Emperor's champion was Lancelot.

He and Issachar exchanged a glance, and Issachar asked, "Have you thought of this?"

"You were the one who told me that he was kicked out of the Black Templar."

Kurland replied.

He had heard of the sacrifice of the Standard Bearer and his partner, the Emperor's Champion, and therefore took good care of the warrior, keeping him by his side.

Unexpectedly, he became the Emperor's Champion in the blink of an eye. The gap between the past and the present made Kurland feel absurd. He looked at Lancelot and felt that the other party suddenly became a stranger.

"Brother Isaga, Brother Kurland, are you here to participate in this ceremony as well?"

Magnaric, with only the sarcophagus left, was also among the surrounding Black Templars. He noticed the arrival of the two chapter masters and extended an invitation to them.

"We were only here to offer our support, but we didn't expect you to have already defeated the warlord."

"Yes, almost. But once again the Emperor has chosen His Champion!"

"Lancelot was a warrior expelled from the Brotherhood of the Sword by Grand Marshal Bosimonde."

Isaga reminded.

"Bosimonde? He knows nothing about the Emperor's Champion!"

The marshal's enthusiasm made Kurland feel uncomfortable, but he still participated in the ceremony politely.

"The Emperor has sent down His will!"

The Chief Priest declared loudly: "Even without the illusion, today, His champion has proven himself with blood and sword!"

The broken power armor was stripped off and new armor was put on. The chief priest raised the scepter and gave the final blessing to Lancelot, who was wearing a laurel crown.

"Your name is engraved in the canon! Your sword has drunk the blood of aliens! Your armor has received the grace of the Emperor! From this day forward, you are the Emperor's Blade, the Crown of the Black Templar!"

The surrounding Black Templars cheered in unison, their gazes fixed on the Emperor's Champion who had survived the clash with the Ork Warlord with fervor.

Few of the Emperor's champions survived the battle, and Lancelot, who defeated the Ork warlords with such devastating force, was considered a godsend by them.

After the ceremony, Kurland stepped forward to meet Lancelot.

"You have won a glorious victory, Lancelot. I never imagined you would become the Emperor's Champion."

Kurland noticed that the warrior remained calm. As a consecrated individual, he lacked the fanaticism of the other Black Templars around him. He even shook his head, rejecting Kurland's praise of his glory.

"I'm no Emperor Champion, I just can't say no to them."

"But you defeated Goruk. Strength is the reason for being a champion."

"I did not conquer on my own. Without you, without the mortals fighting outside, this victory would have been impossible in the first place. I simply swung my sword, bringing this impending victory into being."

After this life-or-death struggle, Lancelot felt that he had undergone a transformation. He now had much more understanding than before.

"This is a victory for humanity."

He said finally.

Isaga looked at Lancelot again, and this time, his eyes were full of approval.

"He is a true Emperor's Champion."

"What do you mean?"

Kurland was curious.

"Look at the other Black Templars, Brother Kurland. They cheer because they believe this is the Emperor's blessing and a victory for their faith. But they forget that true victory is never achieved through miracles, but through the blood and sacrifice of mortals."

But Lancelot was different, the new Emperor's Champion. Isaga looked at him and saw the shadow of Sigismund, who had challenged him seven hundred years before.

"The Black Templars followed in Sigismund's footsteps, remembering only his sword and forgetting his heart. Sigismund once said he swung his sword 'to protect those not as strong as I.'"

"But what about the Black Templars now? They only care about glory and slaughter. They would rather let their entire fleet be reduced to ashes by the aliens' fire than retreat, simply because retreat would be 'disgraceful.'"

Isaga's words reminded Kurland of Bosimond. The Grand Marshal's latest situation was the loss of several companies and a battleship.

He didn't know how Bosimonde was lost, but Kurland believed that the answer could be found in "Dishonor".

"They are lost,"

Isaga continued, "They believe that faith is fanaticism, and glory is victory. But a true champion of the Emperor, like Sigismund, knows why he fights—not for his own glory, but for those who cannot wield the sword."

Kurland looked at Lancelot and suddenly understood what Isaga meant.

Lancelot was not lost in the frenzied cheers. Instead, his gaze passed over the crowd and fell on the undead soldiers who were cleaning up the battlefield. Those mortal warriors were covered in wounds, but they still stood firm at their posts, bandaging the wounded and collecting the dead.

"He saw them."

Kurland whispered, "He saw those 'not as strong as we are.'"

"Yes, and he survived. I'm looking forward to what changes he will bring to the Black Templars."

The ceremony of crowning the champion was quickly concluded, and the Astartes began to recover the gene-seed.

They had plenty of time to do this, as the greenskins on the Battle Moon were already beginning to break apart.

The moment Goruk's head was crushed, some invisible wave spread like ripples, centered at the Orc Palace, to the entire battle moon.

The green tide, roaring "Waaagh!", seemed to have its throat strangled, and the noisy battlefield fell eerily quiet for a moment. Then, a primal fear began to spread among the orcs—they felt it.

Their boss is dead.

"What the hell...what the hell did you smash our boss to pieces?!"

I don’t know which greenskin screamed like that, but the greenskin army’s original fanatical fighting spirit instantly subsided.

"Don't run! We can still fight!"

A few stubborn bosses tried to maintain order. But no one obeyed their orders, and the orcs along the entire front began to run around like headless flies. Only the Astra Militarum, who were already familiar with this scene, remained on the front line.

They were greeted by the same scene as when Maxim went up.

"They... retreated?"

A blood-soaked Crusader muttered.

The previous defeat of the Crusade was still haunting him like a leech, making it difficult for him to believe his victory at this moment.

"No, not retreating."

The veteran of the Astra Militarum nearby patted him on the shoulder and said, "They are the ones who lost!"

Reports from various regiments streamed into the command center over the communications channel: the orcs were beginning to flee, they encountered no organized resistance during the pursuit, and their creations were beginning to malfunction. Knowing the battle was over, Hayes's servoskull, responsible for broadcasting, announced to the entire army:

"Soldiers, we won."

His voice was not passionate, but it made everyone who heard it tremble in their hearts.

"The Ork Warlord is slain, and their battle moon, once a reproach to Terra, lies beneath our feet!"

After a brief silence on the battlefield, thunderous cheers broke out.

The soldiers dropped their weapons and hugged each other. Some knelt on the ground and cried bitterly; others looked up in the direction of Terra, as if they could see through the dome of the battle moon and see the ugly homeland for which they gave their lives.