Chapter 145 The Primarch of the Mushroom Collection
It doesn’t know what it is or where it is. In short, it is such a nice, soft and steaming land. It is suitable for a thief to dig his head out of this soft mound of soil, stare at his two bright eyes, which are neither green nor big, and pick things up from the ground. He picked up an iron stick used for watering shrimps and piped it. He held the stick and looked at the green thing next door with big eyes and then small eyes.
There are not many cubs growing in the ground now. It can’t figure out whether it’s because they haven’t been planted for a long time or because the nutrition of this rotten vegetable field is not enough. Anyway, the kid next to it Just a few melons and two dates, standing stupidly in the field with green leaves, not as cunning as them at all.
After thinking about it, he stretched out the stick in his hand and pushed the boy next to him into the vegetable field with his butt upwards, and burst into laughter. When the other boys saw this, they rushed up to play with him, and he easily fucked his pussy with a left hand and a slap in the face. When the other boys were tired, he felt that he had grown bigger again. Circle, lick the mouth and armpit, and it smells bad again.
Just when it was arrogantly picking up some rotten vegetable leaves from the ground with its hands on its hips to decorate its brain, suddenly two huge steel shrimps and a little one rushed in. The little black shrimps, the first big one is both gold and silver, the second big one is both silver and gold, they are very old.
Before it waaaaagh, a golden light burst out from the palm of the little black shrimp, as bright as Brother Mao's big fart, and it was instantly crushed into a charred paste. Before it could act cunning and pretend to beg for mercy, uh...
"Did we encounter a branch that grew particularly rapidly, or is this generally the case for orcs?"
Morse raised his hands, The flowing fire poured out from the palm, and the scorching flame carried the fragments of the flying golden characters, burning through the black and brown farmland where the lush vitality of the Mountain Formation had been turned into alien nutrients, leaving only charred residue, but the arrival of the destructive power contained a remedy. expectations.
After the flames burned away the organic matter in the soil, and the walls were covered with the dark remnants of the swaying shadows of the flames and candles, Morse put down his hand and pinched out a golden candlestick, leaving behind thirteen clusters of bright lights. The golden flames circled the land as a preparation to prevent another accident, and they patted each other with their hands to signify the end of the work.
"Can't tell," Rogal Dorn said.
And Perturabo snorted: "This is best just an exception."
"At least we have proved the efficiency of the orcs. If this thing can be eaten like a non-toxic mushroom, we may directly solve it If you have solved the problem of supplying the imperial fleet, you can report it to the emperor for reward."
Morse compacted the charred and caked land with majestic force and stabilized it into a solid black glass. On the ground, the atomic structure was directly changed under his control, cutting off the possibility of the orcs sprouting again as completely as possible.
If you look at the black stone ground together with the thirteen clusters of eternal flames and the burn marks on the surrounding white walls, it has a deep atmosphere of a dark temple or a temple full of shadows.
"I see that your field cannot be reused," Morse said, "I'll simply prepare a decorative place for you."
Rogal Dorn belatedly added: "Even if orcs can be eaten, the very act of raising xenos is contrary to the Emperor's public declaration - thank you for the free interior design, Morse."
"Morse never gave good advice," Perturabo said, casually aligning himself with Dorn, using his low-level jokes to cover up his frown.
Morse has gradually discovered a characteristic of Perturabo recently, that is, the closer the interlocutor is to the Lord of Iron, the more compromised the Lord of Iron's rhetorical skills will be.
He smiled and didn't care. "I assume that a necessary component of a good relationship is mutual ridicule, Perturabo. Let's go to the next place. I think Dorn is getting anxious."
Dorn looked up from the dataslate, for After talking to Morse, he lowered his head again: "Floating spores were detected in the pool of the microalgae cultivation room, and there are no formed orcs."
"We can try non-supernatural purification methods this time," Perturabo said. "Don't let Morse do everything."
Donn showed his data pad, which was neatly printed. ’s handwriting lists several green orc cooking methods, including potions, incineration, high pressure, extremely low temperature, etc. He did not know when he finished writing the silent project execution list with extremely high efficiency. This may be used to demonstrate the advantages of freehand writing on the data pad compared to silent recording written with a data pen.
“I have ordered my mortal servants to prepare a series of measures,” Dorn said. “In addition, the canned vegetables distributed this afternoon are being stored in the warehouse, except for one Imperial Fist Legion who tasted them to verify their nutritional content. Members, no one else can eat it."
"Then you guys go burn the orcs, and I'll see if the Astartes' saliva and stomach acid can dissolve the orc spores." A golden stream of light flashed across Morse's body. , prepare in advance the memory revision psychic energy that does not harm the person's physical body and light body, as well as the surgery to replace the internal organs that may be necessary. Although he found out that there was no green skin in the legion member's stomach during the remote spying just now, such a delicate operation still requires some preparation.
"Give me the address, and I'll find you when I'm done."
"No, Mors." Dorn took back his datapad, "Our Legion needs to be directed whether to pursue the Ork fleet, and how Cleanse the planet occupied by the orcs."
He looked at Perturabo, who was in a dilemma between tightening his eyebrows and stretching the muscles between his eyebrows appropriately: "So, Dorn. ?”
“Are you willing to test the effective method of destroying the orcs alone, and I will be responsible for commanding both of our legions?”
Dorn began his explanation seriously, and these words started from him. The words unfolded naturally and smoothly, without any irrational discussions hidden with unnecessary emotional factors.
"I don't want to seize your command, but you are more experienced in conducting experiments. If I have time, I should test it with you and learn how to operate it. However, two Primarchs are doing the same thing at the same time. Thinking that the opportunity for our Legion to fight is a waste and delay, and to avoid losing it when encountering an enemy that the Legion cannot deal with on its own..."
Perturabo reached out and patted Rogal Dorn on the shoulder. , his brother responded with a wink.
"No need to explain further, I agree." Perturabo said, "I can see that the Imperial Fists are good at attacking. Do what you want, you have my name and permission. ”
Morse snapped his fingers. "Since I burned a piece of farmland to effectively help you suppress your worries about the interior of the Phalanx, how about I teleport you to the strategy room?"
Roger Dorn was about to nod. In an instant, his feet were empty. By the time he nodded along with his inertia, he had landed at the door of the strategy room.
A heavy landing helped him stabilize his body instantly. His eyes swept across the golden armor he was wearing, and he steadily walked into the spacious hall.
The Imperial Fists command team and Kaidomo Frix and Azak Ahriman, who have collaborated previously, are waiting here. Iskus stood nearby, his half-metal face filled with determination, completely unaware of the disaster he had inadvertently caused. Dorn was not prepared to punish him now.
"Kaidomo Frix."
"Yes, Lord Primarch."
"Recommend to me a suitable team of Iron Warriors, I need "Second five thousand Iron Warriors to participate in the next several battles against the aliens," Dorn requested. This number is one-fourth of the number of Iron Warriors currently in service as Astartes. "I need commanders who are good at space combat and close combat fire support."
"Warsmith Bill Perrin," Frix answered. "Nicknamed 'Good Captain'."
Roger Dorn nodded and sent an invitation to the Iron Warriors to assist in the battle through the data pad. At the same time, he continued to name the command levels of the Imperial Fists and arrange their respective combat tasks.
He kept Morse's proposal in mind. Those participating in the battle will include Aeolus, the former commander of the Imperial Fists, and his first company. In the Unification War, Aeolus's Close combat brought him many meritorious service.
At the same time, Rogal Dorn himself will also join the battle.
(End of this chapter)