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

"The Battle Moon's structure is complex."

Ockham made no promises. "Even if you give me absolute trust, I don't know when I'll find the place you want."

The sounds of orcs shoving and pushing gradually began to rise from behind them, clearly indicating that the orcs on the surface had already caught up with them. Regardless of what happened next, they had to act.

"No matter what the outcome."

Li Ang didn't hesitate, "Just do it!"

A flicker of surprise flashed across Ockham's eyes. Although he had known beforehand that this sage who had captured Maximus and repelled the demon was no ordinary man, it was only after personal contact that he felt the power emanating from this sage.

That is a kind of charm that can give people confidence.

He no longer considered retreating and threw himself into the operation: "Give me a few more Felyne cats, and I promise to give you an answer within two hours."

-

The fighting in the corridor was fierce and bloody.

The orcs seemed hesitant to use any powerful weapons to further damage the damaged Battle Moon, as they couldn't find a way to repair it. This made most of the battles here close combat.

Close combat in narrow terrain limits the number of orcs to a maximum extent, but their numerical advantage is still overwhelming.

More than thirty people from the Astartes team had been killed, and the orcs had even set up a pocket trap using their familiarity with the terrain.

To avoid being completely surrounded, Leon led his team forward. He didn't even have time to wipe the orc blood from his electronic eyes before a sudden burst of fire around the corner thirty meters ahead grabbed his attention.

A bunch of orc boys, wrapped in welding smoke and iron slag, rushed out of the blasted hole. The roar of the orc boss behind them almost shook the rust off the ceiling: "Don't let those shrimps go any further!"

Armidale, Leon's personal guard, led the charge. But this group of orcs was only the first wave of this long-planned attack.

"left!"

Kurland's roar was almost drowned out by the explosion.

An orc blaster boy leaped down from the ventilation duct, his belt laden with grenades flashing red lights. Fortunately, Thorn, who had been paying close attention, heard Kurland's warning and stepped forward. The moment his power sword split the greenskin's chest, he also picked up the explosive pack that was about to detonate.

The flying debris knocked down a large number of orcs, but the remaining orcs continued to howl and move forward. Just when the situation was almost hopeless, Occam's voice finally came through Leon's communication channel.

"Move forward a hundred meters and I'll catch you."

The orc boss, who was still roaring at the front of the passage, was assassinated by a dark shadow that approached quietly. Malik used his only remaining lightning claw to easily sever the orc's spine. Even though the orc had redundant biological organs in his body, they could not function with the spine severed.

The orc leader died in a confused state, and without the leader's command, the orcs fell into a brief stagnation. Although they quickly reacted and continued to pursue, Leon's team had already widened the distance between them during their reaction time.

So, Efron, who was hiding under the tunnel, detonated the thermal bomb he had already laid.

"Boom!"

The entire five-meter-long tunnel disappeared as if devoured by a giant beast, revealing a boiling pool of slag below. Two young orc technicians, unable to brake in time, screamed and fell into the molten steel. The fuel tanks on their backs caused a series of explosions, and the splashing molten metal turned the nearby greenskins into flaming torches.

"What the hell! Who would destroy the house?"

The remaining orcs began to scramble, spinning among the intestines and gears on the ground. Although some orcs quickly realized that they should change their route and continue the pursuit, it would not be done in a short time.

Leon killed the last remaining orc in front of him. After fighting for an hour and a half, he finally got a rare moment of peace.

"Where is the destination?"

Leon asked the Night Lord who was waiting for them.

"just in front."

Malik's voice was still cold. He turned around and began to lead the way, motioning Leon and the others to follow.

His attitude was not good, but the role he played was quite crucial.

Leon's Second Legion and the Sons of Dorne are not good at fighting behind enemy lines or assassinations. If they want to increase the diversity of their tactics...

Putting this matter aside for now, the entire team, led by the Night Lord, quickly advanced. The orc boys behind them quickly caught up, but when they saw the direction they were heading, they hesitated and stopped pursuing.

"Those shrimps are crazy! They're rushing towards the boss! The boss's place is no place for beasts right now!"

"I'm not going! Maybe those shrimps can help us find out the boss's current situation..."

The orcs chasing Leon stopped, and the entire army was able to smoothly enter a wider hall.

This building, specially constructed within the Battle Moon, exudes a majestic aura that even the Imperial Fists, who excel at fighting dust, can't help but gasp.

The metal structure at the end of the hall is a rough orc-style palace, but the most eye-catching thing is the huge triumphal arch in front of the palace.

Its dome is supported by seven huge steel beams inserted diagonally, and the dome is made of the dismantled wreckage of a strike cruiser.

The orcs had dismantled every useful part of the wreckage to make weapons, and the remaining parts were erected here like exhibits. For the warriors of the Fist of the Paragon, such a creation was more impressive than the Lion Gate on Terra.

"Amicarda..."

Thorne whispered the name of the former Chapter Master, recognizing the cruiser's origin from its blurred markings: "This is our strike cruiser."

The others were silent, not knowing how to comfort the veteran.

Even though they knew the fate of the previous Chapter Master of the Fists of the Paragon when they lost contact, all the warriors of the Fists of the Paragon still felt an indescribable sadness when they saw their Chapter Master's heroic act of boarding at the cost of a strike cruiser being displayed by the Orks as a trophy.

Occam came over from the side, with Tom Cat standing on his shoulder.

In just a few hours, the Alpha had already become familiar with the Felyne cats: "I guess I don't need an introduction, right?"

Of course, there was no need for introduction. Leon was certain that the orc warlord in charge of the entire Battle Moon was among them. His doubts were elsewhere: "Why didn't those orcs catch up?"

"Who knows."

Alpha shrugged: "But the answer is obviously not at the door."

Chapter 152: The Orc Throne.

Leon couldn't find a technical way to crack the palace gate, so they could only gather all the remaining melta bombs and blast a hole in the palace's platinum gate.

There were no elite orcs rushing towards them as expected, weapons raised. On the contrary, the evil power of the warp gushing out from the gap made everyone who approached the gap stagger.

Having experienced this feeling many times in the Underhive, the Astartes quickly recognized what was lurking within: "The power of corruption!"

The fungi and plague finally found an outlet and turned into tentacles. They grabbed the gaps and suddenly attacked the Astartes.

The Astartes, having relied on their reflexes to avoid the deadly attack, immediately retreated. At Leon's command, the flamethrowers in the back row advanced. Their flamethrowers spewed out furious tongues of fire, and the sacred flames devoured the tentacles.

The tentacles, made up of countless tiny creatures, screamed shrilly in the flames, and they quickly retreated back into the palace. But Leon was not about to let them go. He waved his hand and ordered: "Forward!"

The group advanced into the palace. The light of the flames illuminated the road ahead, but the scene before them made everyone feel depressed.

The interior of the palace has been completely corrupted by Nurgle, with thick fungi and rotting tumors crawling on the walls, and the air filled with a sickening stench of decay. Countless sticky tentacles hang from the ceiling, and the ground is covered with thick green slime.

The once magnificent orc palace had become a maze of death and decay, and every step they took here was like wading through a swamp.

"This place has been completely corrupted."

Kurland whispered, a hint of unease in his voice.

Li Ang understood his uneasiness. This situation was beyond his expectations, if not beyond his imagination.

How could a group of creatures pulling a LAN be invaded by a loving father?

Warriors armed with flamethrowers continued to do their best to mow down the tentacles that kept coming their way. However, they hadn't anticipated this situation and didn't have enough flamethrowers with them. No matter how hard they tried, they could only barely clear a small area in the palace for everyone to settle down.

The reserve indicator of promethium was rapidly decreasing with the continuous injection, but Leon's counter reminded them that they had only advanced a short distance.

"What do we do now?"

Thorne confirmed to Leon that this was the issue that everyone was concerned about now.

Before Leon could answer, Occam interrupted him.

"I say we should evacuate now."

Alpha, who had been among the traitors for years, had a clear understanding of the current situation: "It's beyond help now that it's corrupted to this point. Our only option is to destroy all defenses surrounding this planet and then launch a bipolar cyclone torpedo into it."

This is not something the Astartes with their weak fleets can do. And where can they get the bipolar cyclone torpedoes now?

But moving forward is no longer possible, and difficult decisions seem imminent.

"Armidel."

Li Ang suddenly called out to his confidant, "Let's go forward together. The rest of you stay where you are and wait for us to come back."

Armidale understood and walked out of the formation side by side with Leon. A ball of flame danced from his katana, pushing back all the Nurgle tentacles that attacked them.

As they advanced, they quickly attracted the attention of more tentacles. Armidel alone couldn't fend off all the tentacles, but Leon ignored these pure Nurgle creations. The tentacles froze instantly upon contact with him, then turned into a ball of pitch-black powder.

The others were already familiar with this situation, but Occam, who believed in the Emperor, suddenly began to breathe rapidly.

“This kind of great power…!”

The evil power of Nurgle entrenched in the palace also realized Leon's peculiarity. He stopped entangled him with tentacles and instead sent out several orcs corrupted by Nurgle.

No matter how incorruptible something is, it cannot withstand the Horus-style initiation. Looking at these orcs covered with pus and rotten wounds, Leon finally understood why no orcs were willing to approach here.

But this was not an obstacle. Hongye, the Flying Dragon Blade, easily cut these bulky orcs into pieces, and the fire dragon's flame burned them into green pus.

Realizing that they could not stop Leon, the evil forces of Nurgle screamed in anger and fear, retreated from Leon, and made way for the depths of the palace.

It was a huge hall that was far more corrupt than any they had seen before. Countless skeletons were piled on the ground, some of them were orcs, and some were Astartes.

At the end of the hall, a huge throne made of bones and rotten flesh stood there, and an orc warlord over eight meters tall sat on it. Under his feet was the corpse of a chapter leader, and Leon could recognize it as Amicarda.

Although he looked impressive, Leon doubted whether he was still alive.

He could tell from the orc warlord's size that he had once been as big as a mountain. However, at this moment, the right half of his body was charred as charcoal, as if it had been hit by some powerful weapon, and wisps of black smoke were still coming out of the wound.

His left arm also hung at his side, the weapon in his hand - a huge power claw - had been broken off, leaving only a few twisted metal fragments.

Leon and Armidale approached the unresponsive orc warlord cautiously. It was not until they reached the throne that Leon realized that the orc warlord was still alive.

His chest rose and fell slightly, each breath accompanied by a soft, low groan. The evil power of Nurgle clung to the Orc warlord's wounds like a maggot, sustaining the last breath of life in a body that should have been dead long ago.

"It's really vicious."

Amidel said.

For those unwilling to accept the evil power of Nurgle, being hung in this way is the purest form of torture.

Although Nurgle believers always like to preach kindness, in order to force others to accept Nurgle's love, they do not mind letting the other party experience far more pain than usual first.

The evil power of Nurgle has not yet completely corrupted the Ork warlord who is struggling to resist, but it is only a matter of time.

"Armidel, you stand guard. I need to check on him."

Leon gave the order and approached the orc warlord. After an inspection, he found that the throne made by the orc warlord was actually a special psychic device.

More of a torture device than a throne, it draws the endless flow of spiritual power from the orc warlord's body, then pumps it through the pipelines under the throne to the entire battle moon, maintaining its operation.

Normal combat moons don't use this thing. This might be a temporary measure to maintain the normal operation of the combat moon after it was severely damaged by the star fortress until it was repaired.

Li Ang sorted out his thoughts - the final blow before the collapse of the star fortress had obviously dealt a heavy blow to the battle moon and even the orc warlord. In order to maintain the normal operation of the battle moon, the orc warlord sat on the throne, maintaining the situation with his own power of thought.

But the evil power of Nurgle, coming from nowhere, took advantage of the situation and tried to corrupt the severely injured orc warlord.

Forced to fend off the corruption, the Orc Warlord could no longer maintain the Battle Moon. Lacking the Power of My Thought, the Moon could never be fully repaired. The Orcs, suspecting the Warlord's demise from the weakening of My Thought, descended into a civil war for a new Warlord.

Why do I have a sense of déjà vu?

Perhaps the tossing and turning during the inspection had disturbed the semi-conscious orc. The warlord slowly raised his head, his cloudy eyes looking at Leon.

“What?”

The orc warlord said with difficulty, his voice mixed with the gurgling sound of pus: "You are too late..."

He seemed to be regretting that he no longer had the ability to fight the humans who came to kill him. Leon did not respond, but slowly raised his plasma pistol and pointed it at the orc warlord's head.

"Your suffering ends here."

He pulled the trigger, and at the moment the plasma beam pierced the warlord's head, Leon saw a hint of relief in his eyes.

"Human boy... you did... well... I can finally... take a break..."

This torture, which even an alien should not have to endure, has come to an end.

The evil power of Nurgle surged through the body of the Orc warlord, as if it wanted to take over this body and turn the corpse of the Orc warlord into its own puppet. However, Leon got there first and touched the corpse of the Orc warlord before the corruption was completely complete.

The corpse, already largely possessed by Nurgle, crumbled under Leon's touch, reduced to ash. Nurgle's malign power reluctantly retreated, but Leon also blocked the transmission of the Warlord's power through the Throne of Bones. Instantly, the Battle Moon, deprived of the Warlord's power, began to shake.

The weakening of Nurgle's corruption allowed the trapped Kurland and his companions to move forward. They hurried to Leon, their eyes filled with deep confusion.

"What's going on? Where's the orc warlord?"

"Go back and explain!"

Leon had no intention of staying here: "Let's get out of here first. Occam!"