"For the glory of the Four-Armed Emperor! For the promised land of ascension!"
"We will not let the minions of the False Emperor defile this holy temple! Fight! Fight until your last breath! Stain our banners with their blood!"
Inside the grand fortress, the tall and cunning commander—now equipped with a thick, three-eyed auxiliary limb—brandished a filthy, serrated longsword. With a rasping roar, he rallied the sly bandits around him. Emboldened, they charged chaotically toward the fortress's gun ports and gates, prepared to lay down their lives for the Four-Armed Emperor and block the False Emperor's lackeys.
The fortress was sturdy, strategically located, and easy to defend, making any assault extremely difficult. It had the capacity to inflict devastating losses on the attackers.
The three-armed commander watched the scene with a mocking smile curling on his crustacean-like lips. He quietly retreated, his figure vanishing into the shadows of the winding corridors inside the fortress.
Once he was far enough from the blast zone, he stopped and raised a hand that looked perfectly human. In his palm lay a small, inconspicuous detonator disguised as a scrap of flesh and blood.
The commander reverted to his original form—a shape-shifting entity in disguise.
"Art sometimes needs… a touch of dramatic finale," said Changeling as he pressed the detonator.
BOOM!!!!!!!!
A deep, resonant explosion shook the body from within, like the roar of a colossal beast rising from the depths of the earth.
Immediately afterward, the entire fortress erupted from the inside. Rock walls bulged outward and collapsed like paper. Heavy metal gates twisted off their frames and were hurled dozens of meters into the air like toys. Watchtowers and gun emplacements on the summit turned into showers of flying debris and metal shards.
Rumble… rumble… rumble…
The chain of explosions and collapses lasted roughly ten seconds. A massive wave of yellowish-gray dust rose like a tidal surge and instantly swallowed the hill where the fortress stood.
The air filled with the acrid stench of gunpowder, rock dust, and the non-human, charred-meat smell of something burned beyond recognition.
When the dust settled, the once-magnificent fortress had become a smoldering pile of smoke and flames. Not a single guard inside had survived.
The shape-shifter kept a safe distance, giggling excitedly as he spun in a little twirl.
"This is true revolution. This is scheming," Changeling said in a shrill voice. "What meaning is there in an intricate, complex, and clever conspiracy if it does not end in a grand, spectacular, and ironically ironic ruin?"
Back when he worked under Tzeentch, every meticulously planned scheme of his had either failed or ended in failure.
Now, chasing after nameless thugs who caused trouble two out of every three days was truly wonderful!
From afar came the sound of hurried footsteps and shrill cries. The explosion had clearly put the bandits in other areas on high alert.
The Changeling instantly wiped the smile from his face. His body moved like mercury. In the blink of an eye, he transformed into an ordinary, panicked, poorly equipped bandit.
He blended perfectly into the crowd of fellow bandits fleeing the ruins or rushing toward them. He could even adopt a terrified expression and run aimlessly while carrying belongings.
Along the way, he encountered another, more cunning and slippery commander who had hurried over. The commander's gaze swept across the chaotic formation and lingered for half a second on the disguised shape-shifter, showing a flicker of instinctive doubt.
Within the subtle telepathic network among their kind, the fluctuation emanating from this specimen felt somewhat strange.
However, this clever commander was shot three times in the back by the enemy during the charge and fell into a near-death state.
"Hehe…"
The Changeling, still disguised as a sly man, ran past the dying commander. As he passed, he turned his head, flicked out his tongue with lightning speed, and glared with malicious, triumphant eyes into the commander's compound eyes, which were slowly losing their light.
The commander's eyes captured the scene. The fury of being deceived mixed with the despair of approaching death, instantly killing his spirit.
…
Meanwhile, aided by magical ray guns, Datch's forces became invincible. Corrupted soldiers and civilians were healed one by one and restored as loyal subjects of the Imperium.
These people were quickly organized, armed, and joined the resistance. With even stronger conviction than before, they shouted slogans:
"For the Emperor!"
"Purge the Xenos!"
"Avenge the dead!"
Like sparks igniting dry grassland into a wildfire, the flames of resistance spread throughout the city.
Even more encouraging was that ordinary people, who had lived in fear and chaos, finally found an outlet and a direction to move forward.
After the Gene-stealer overthrow of the Lontian Imperial government, most ordinary citizens initially thought it was just a routine power shift or a warlord rebellion.
But once the new regime took power, things turned even stranger.
Disappearances of neighbors became frequent. Personalities changed abruptly.
From the shadows of the night streets came occasional eerie noises.
Various terrifying urban legends spread, and people lived in terror and suspicion.
When victims sought help from law enforcement… they received only cold indifference, threats, arrest as destabilizing elements, and a farewell from which they would never be seen again.
It was then that the rebels raised the double-headed eagle flag and shouted slogans against the Xenos monsters. They discovered mutated individuals and hatching nests hidden among the population one after another.
Only then did they realize that the monsters had truly been lying in wait, hunting their prey.
"We're not paranoid! The entire ruling class has turned into monsters! They're feeding us to those things!"
"So our children won't have to be afraid at night!"
"To prevent our families from vanishing without a trace, we fight those monsters!"
Long-suppressed terror transformed into fierce anger and the courage to survive.
Many civilians grabbed makeshift weapons, left their homes, and joined the resistance. Others spontaneously organized to attack isolated Xenos cultists and defend their neighborhoods.
The wave of resistance spread rapidly from multiple points and soon became a sea of people's war engulfing the entire city.
Datch stood on a high platform in a newly occupied square, looking down at the surging crowds in the streets below.
Seeing poorly equipped but determined civilians and soldiers fighting shoulder to shoulder, he ordered them to attack the fleeing Xenos cultists with every weapon they had.
"Haha, you see? This is the power of the people."
"The history books are right. The masses create history."
There are no saviors in this world. Everything depends on oneself.
The Astartes from both the Dark Angels and Black Templars chapters stared at the nameless one, unable to understand his thought process.
With their abilities, dealing with those Xenos would have been child's play.
Yet what made them so delighted was that the humans had found the courage to resist the xenos. Without him, the humans would have fallen into nothing but chaotic disorder.
Datch had no intention of explaining to the NPCs. After sighing, he led the Astartes and the creatures they had summoned straight toward the cunning chieftain's location.
Once the root of corruption was eliminated, the Gene-stealer gang would collapse and cease to be a major threat.
The remaining cleanup could be left to the Imperial Navy and the citizens of Lontian.
Datch summoned his mechanical warhorse, mounted it, grasped the Moon Greatsword, and set off for the final destination.
Skarbrand roared at the forefront, swinging his war-axe and smashing every Xenos that blocked the way.
The illusory form of Zarhulash floated in the air, occasionally firing destructive beams.
Faced with such coordinated force, the bandits encountered along the way had no means of resistance and were mercilessly slaughtered.
Datch rode like a noble king, his warhorse's hooves trampling the mangled corpses of Xenos.
As he walked, he admired his own appearance.
Honestly, this outfit was really cool.
On the way to the Governor's Mansion, while passing through a narrow street, several black figures suddenly leaped out like lightning from the shadows of the collapsed buildings on both sides.
They were terrifyingly cunning assassins—veterans who had killed countless people. Multiple Imperial commanders…
But before they could get close, their bodies were sliced into pieces of flesh as if cut by invisible lines.
The elegant yet eerie figure of the Masque of Slaanesh appeared, then vanished back into the darkness, continuing his bodyguard duty.
After the bloody rampage, Datch finally stepped into the Governor's Mansion, which had been transformed into a temple of prophecy.
Dim light flickered from swaying braziers. The air was thick with a nauseating fishy stench.
Seated on the throne at the far end of the hall was the central figure of the rebellion—the Gene-stealer patriarch.
His body was abnormally large, with a deep purple-black carapace. From his sides extended four powerful, sturdy auxiliary limbs tipped with massive bone blades that supported his weight on the ground. Two smaller front limbs were curled in front of his body.
His head was enormous, and his eyes coldly regarded the intruders.
The Dark Angels and Black Templars warriors instantly fanned out.
Power swords and chainswords hummed to life.
"Be careful. A Xenos leader of this size has the strength to tear open a Dreadnought's armor," warned a black-robed Templar Knight in a low voice. His gaze beneath the helm was as sharp as an eagle's.
Heavy rustling sounds came from the darkness around the hall.
Dozens of purestrain Gene-stealers climbed walls and ceilings or scurried about. They looked even more ferocious than primitive Tyranid corpses, scraping their claws against rock and making grinding sounds with their teeth.
At the same time, elite guards with two swords on their backs and light in their eyes—relatively lean and fit—emerged from behind the throne. Their auras were even more dangerous, combining an assassin's agility with a warrior's composure.
"So many purestrains… and those guards look tough," remarked another Black Templar warrior solemnly.
"There is absolutely no need to worry. We already have an excellent plan to repel the enemy," Nass, the Angel of Darkness, suddenly spoke in a calm, confident voice.
Everyone turned toward Nass and listened eagerly to his insight.
Nass straightened his back and pointed at Datch, who was mounted on the mechanical warhorse.
"It is to have unwavering faith in the power and wisdom of the Nameless One!"
"..."
"..."
A short, awkward silence followed.
The other Dark Angels silently turned their faces away and distanced themselves from Nass. They did not want to be associated with this man.
As sons of Kaliban, please refrain from such servile flattery. It tarnishes the reputation of the Lion King.
Datch's lips twitched.
Well, after spending so much time in the bathroom, you've learned how to flatter.
But I am a player who sticks to my principles, so I won't fall for it.
When the Lion King returns, I'll badmouth you, punish you, and appoint you as commander of the combat squad.
At that moment, a demigoddess figure appeared beside the chieftain's throne. Her body was curvaceous, with three arms, and she held a crystal-inlaid scepter. It was none other than the cunning bishop.
"Stop, you foolish and ignorant believers in the False Emperor," the bishop said in a rasping voice, raising her scepter to block the crowd's path.
"Witness with your own eyes the supreme miracle shown by the Four-Armed Emperor. Prostrate yourselves and worship. If you awaken at this very moment and bow to the path of our holy evolution…"
"Then the merciful Emperor may take pity on your ignorance and forgive your atrocities."
"Do you even know who you're talking to, you filthy space scum?!" The black-robed Templar Knight stepped forward, pointing his power sword at the bishop and roaring.
"Xenos have no right to negotiate with us. The only fate awaiting you twisted monsters is to kneel at the feet of the Nameless One and beg for swift and total extermination."
"You are nothing but killing machines forged by the False Emperor from hatred and prejudice—pitiful puppets of blind faith," the bishop said, shaking her head lightly. Her tone carried condescending pity.
"To refuse the True God and disbelieve the True Path is the greatest tragedy in the universe."
The monster's voice suddenly rose. The crystal on her staff emitted a dazzling purple-red psychic light.
"This is your last chance! If you stubbornly continue to resist, your lowly flesh and souls will turn to dust before the true power of the gods!"
The bishop unleashed terrifying spiritual energy. Blinding flames burst from her eyes, mouth, nose, and even the gaps in her skin, illuminating the dim hall.
"An ant that does not know its own death," said Zarhulash irritably. "Why does it spout such nonsense?"
Just do it.
The crimson psychic flames vanished as if a power outage had occurred. The raised scepter clattered to the ground.
Her heavy body swayed and toppled backward, kicking up dust.
Decisive, efficient, and without causing any ripples.
"Uwoh—!"
Skarbrand, seeing the bishop killed, could no longer contain his burning killing intent and let out a roar that shook the entire hall.
His eyes burned with rage, fixed on the chieftain seated on the throne.
Only facing such an opponent could he truly savor the thrill of battle.
"Open fire! For the Nameless One! For the Emperor!"
Mordachi, the Dark Angels' tactician, reacted fastest. At his command, the Astartes who were already in firing position pulled their triggers!
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Hiss! Hiss! Hiss!
The thunder of exploding shells mixed with the screams of plasma and thermal weapons, composing a symphony of destruction.
A rain of searing bullets and energy beams poured down from all directions onto the purestrains and elite guards charging from every side.
At the same time, the Masque of Slaanesh slipped into the enemy lines like a ghost and began his dance of death.
Every graceful spin and light leap was accompanied by the flash of invisible blades.
One after another, grotesque corpses fell with eerily smooth cuts.
"Death is merely the prelude to new rebirth," said Orange, the Angel of Life, as she swung her vine-entwined sword and lightly traversed the edge of the battlefield.
Whenever her blade flashed, a purestrain attempting a surprise attack was pierced, its life force completely drained, leaving only a withered husk.
Pugh did not join the fighting. Instead, he emitted life energy to heal the wounded Imperial soldiers.
Datch entered the fray and, in an instant, teleported behind the bishop.
The large, thick sword in his hand stabbed straight into her body. She let out a high-pitched groan, then lost all strength and collapsed motionless to the ground.
The battle did not last long.
With a single mountain-splitting strike from Skarbrand, the chieftain's hideous head was cruelly severed along with half his shoulder.
The massive headless corpse crashed violently onto the throne, and filthy blood flowed down like a small waterfall.
With their leader slain, the remaining purestrains and guards instantly lost direction. Their once-fearless assault collapsed. They scattered in panic, screaming in chaos, becoming easy targets for pursuit and slaughter.
After securing the hall and confirming the threat was gone, Datch dismounted, bent down, and picked up the cunning chieftain's head.
Using the teleport gun, he advanced to the bridge of the Dominator.
The head of the Gene-stealer clan's chieftain was slammed down in front of Danaken and the Imperial Navy.
A large amount of blood splattered, staining the strategic map and multiple data panels.
"The chieftain of the Gene-stealer clan in the Lontian sector has been killed. Dispatch ground forces immediately to eliminate the remaining enemies."
After speaking, Datch confirmed that the exclamation mark above the other party's head had disappeared and teleported away.
The bridge fell into a deathly silence, broken only by the faint sound of instruments.
Everyone's eyes were fixed on the huge, grotesque head on the table. It was filled with resentment and malice, and expressions of shock appeared on their faces.
How much time had passed? And they had already succeeded in capturing the clan leader!
After a while, Danaken finally recovered from his extreme shock.
He took a deep breath, suppressed his emotions, turned around, and issued orders.
"Immediately release all orbital bombardment weapons from standby."
"Transmit my command: All transport ships advance. All available ground forces are to land and deploy on the surface immediately."
"Primary objective: Seize the main strongholds of each hive city and eliminate the remaining Xenos."
The orders were absolute. The Imperial Navy's war machine immediately began operating with cold efficiency.
One by one, transport ships launched from the bellies of the battleships like worker bees returning to the nest. Trailing flames, they hurtled toward the planet's surface.
The chaotic situation was quickly brought under control. The Xenos were completely wiped out. …
After the war ended, Datch received the mission completion notification.
[Mission Completed: Travel to the Lontian System and suppress the local Gene-stealer rebellion.]
[Rewards: 1200 EXP, 1200 Points, +120 Reputation, Rejuvenation Ray Gun ×1]
...
After the war, planetary councils were rapidly formed across all of Lontian. The councils consisted of resistance leaders, surviving local bureaucrats, representatives from prestigious technical guilds, and followers of the state religion.
Their first act was to reaffirm, on behalf of all Lontian residents, their loyalty to the Imperium of Man.
At the same time, they erected monuments to mourn the nameless people who had saved them.
Even summoned beasts like Skarbrand received their own statues recognized by the state religion.
As for the former planetary governor who had abandoned his post and fled in a private spaceship when the rebellion broke out and the situation turned unfavorable…
When he heard the news, he flew into a rage.
"I was directly appointed by His Majesty the Emperor and hold an ancient warrant of appointment."
"What right do those surviving peasants, rioters, and bureaucrats have to remove me?"
"This is rebellion. I will appeal. I will appeal to Regent Sanguinius."
"I will appeal to the State Church and the Supreme God! Lontian will forever be mine!"
The moment he finished speaking, a group of stern-faced special investigators in the black uniforms of the Ministry of Justice burst in.
The explosive-loaded pistol in his hand was aimed at him without hesitation.
The leader of the special operations team read the verdict.
"Colin Fraser, during the Lontian crisis you severely neglected your duties, abandoned your post, abandoned Imperial property, and caused the collapse of billions of Imperial citizens and a vital planet."
"You are under arrest on multiple charges including 'dereliction of duty,' 'desertion,' and 'endangering Imperial security.' A special military tribunal has found you guilty and sentenced you to death. The sentence will be carried out immediately."
"What?! No, you can't do this—I have rights…" The governor's face turned deathly pale as he tried to resist.
Before he could finish, he was executed with a thunderous shot.
…
After completing the Lontian mission, Datch did not return to the Ultramar.
Instead, guided by the minimap, they set off for a planet called Kamas.
A golden exclamation mark kept flashing here, indicating an important NPC in the area who would issue a very important quest.
Stepping out of the teleport portal, Datch noticed he was standing next to a sturdy, white-haired old man.
At that moment, the old man was fighting several humans and a huge beast.
Seeing the golden exclamation mark above the old man's head, Datch hurried over and opened the old man's information panel.
[Lion El'Jonson, Lion King, Primarch of the First Legion Dark Angels, Emperor's Eldest Son, First Lord, True Guardian of the Great Secret, Sleeping Beauty of the Forest, White-Haired Elder]
The moment he saw the panel, Datch's eyes widened.
Wait, this old man is the Lion King?
The majestic and handsome Lion King was actually an old man?
The product description doesn't match!
…
PS: Support me and read advanced chapters at patreon.com/AbsoluteCode