[You took a deep breath and then let it out slowly.]
[You fully understand the vigilance and vigilance of these sons of Medusa towards you.]
[After all, not everyone can easily accept the help and kindness brought by a strange ‘Little Golden Man’ who falls from the sky. 】
["You may consider me an angel sent by the Emperor, a savior from outside time, and the twenty-second Loyalist Primarch of the Human Empire."]
[At this moment, your low words echoed in the surrounding air.]
[The living metal between the skull helmets is like molten viscous juice, enveloping the vibranium modules one by one and slowly removing your entire head, completely revealing your bronze face and short gray hair. ]
["What did you say? The Primarch of the Loyalists?"]
["Wait a minute, if my database is correct, it should be living metal belonging to the Necrons or some other alien technology... Moreover, only the casting of this set of power armor on your body is exquisite.
It is far beyond the ordinary level of sophisticated power armor, and it is not a precious equipment that ordinary battle groups can easily afford."]
[At this moment, the leading Terminator veteran first carefully looked at the powered armor Starfire Glory on your body for a long time, and then put his cold gaze hidden behind the eyepiece on your face. ]
["In addition, there is currently no alien race or heretic traitor who would pay such a high price to deceive an Astartes strike team that unfortunately failed even the combat mission. Most importantly, my automatic premonition system
I have made a basic judgment on your previous battle data and found that you are a big shot with far greater combat power than the Astartes. Even if all of us here pay the price of death, the final winning rate will be less than 10%..."]
[At this moment, the cold and harsh words of the Terminator veterans are constantly reaching your ears. 】
[However, just when you subconsciously think that the other person’s words will definitely end with a turning word like but. 】
["... Sons of Medusa Chapter, Machira Battle Clan, Terminator veteran Captain Slyer, leading the surviving members of the strike team, see the twenty-second Primarch!"]
[The next second, the ceramite knee armor of the Terminator veteran suddenly knelt down, making an unexpected collision sound. 】
[The Sons of Medusa standing around also quickly lowered the bolt guns in their palms, violently drove their power armor to kneel on one knee, and lowered their metal helmets.]
[And the Mordian Iron Guards, who currently only have about twenty people left, looked at each other.]
[With expressions full of confusion and confusion, they had to kneel down on one knee, and subconsciously performed the standard Sky Eagle Salute with their hands.]
[You raised your brows slightly, and even the corners of your mouth twitched a few times in a very subtle way.]
[To be honest, you were slightly shaken by this Terminator veteran’s 180-degree turn.]
[After all, there is no longer the natural admiration and closeness that the genetic offspring has for the original gene, which is rooted in blood.]
[Whether these Sons of Medusa, who split from the Iron Hands due to the huge conflict caused by Morley's teachings in the past, can recognize your identity as the original body is still an unknown question worth thinking about. 】
[A few seconds ago, you were even mentally prepared to hit them. 】
["Then get up first, remember, I don't like others to kneel down and worship me, battle brothers."]
[You shook your short-haired gray head slightly, and spoke slowly to the people in front of you in a low voice. ]
["Now, can you explain your combat mission to me in detail? Also, what are those mysterious aliens that occupy the Holy Land world? Why do they have the ability to age with time? You, the sons of Medusa, are fighting
How much does the regiment know about this?"]
【You just finished speaking.】
[Captain Slyer, a Terminator veteran who is driving the power armor, quickly gets up from the ground.]
[He casually took off the dog-shaped metal helmet covering his smooth head, revealing a terrifying face covered with explosion scars from top to bottom, and the other half had been modified with mechanical prosthetic eyes. ]
["They are called space rats, or Hruds. This ancient alien is born with a racial talent called 'entropy energy'. The specific way of expression is that it can be about 1.5 meters outside the body."
Place, generating a mysterious force field that can accelerate the passage of time."]
["If that's all, it's not that difficult. Even the Mordian Iron Guard can use a large number of heavy vehicles and long-range attacks to easily destroy them, but once the number of Hrud reaches a certain level,
After the saturation state, and even the formation of nomadic tribes that can support migration, it will be a desperate and horrific natural disaster for any world, because their racial talent'entropy energy' force field will also increase rapidly as their number increases.
Be strong.”]
["Master Primarch, unfortunately, what our Sons of Medusa Chapter encountered was a Hrud nomadic tribe that accidentally migrated to the underground of the Holy Land world through a rift in time and space, rather than the scattered numbers we learned about before arriving.
Otherwise, we would not have led a strike team without much heavy vehicle support and only a few regiments of the Mordian Iron Guard to hastily launch an alien cleanup war."]
[At this moment, the red light inside the mechanical prosthetic eye is flashing, the Terminator veteran Captain Slyer, and his low words that seem to have no emotional fluctuations gradually make you fall into a state of contemplation. ]
[According to the current situation, even with the desperate help of you, the original body, there are only nine Astartes and more than twenty mortal warriors. 】
[It is simply a wishful thinking to fight against an entire ethnic group of Hrud people.]
[At the same time, you also vaguely remember that in the face of this terrifying alien that can control time, even Perturabo, the rebel primarch during the Great Crusade, accidentally suffered a big loss...]
This chapter is not over yet, please click on the next page to continue reading! [Even if you have experienced countless ways to die, you don’t want to experience the feeling of aging to death for the time being.]
["Battle brothers, this is no longer something that a mere strike team of the Sons of Medusa Chapter, or me, the Primarch, can easily solve with brute force."]
["We must request reinforcements from the outside world that can reach here. Where is your space ship parked in the Holy Land World? Can you contact the astropaths above now?"]
[You quickly returned to reality from the hazy memory.]
[The expression on your face gradually became more solemn, and you immediately asked in a deep voice to the Terminator veteran Captain Slaier who was standing not far away.]
["Master Primarch, all of us came on a Sword-class frigate. The ship is now parked in the low-Earth orbit of the Holy Land world, but the current problem is that because of the Hrud's entropy
The time aftermath caused by the long-term release of the energy field has seriously interfered with various wave bands. Even the short-frequency communication device inside the armor is estimated to be difficult to successfully transmit important information back to the ship. We can only seize the flying vehicle.
Come to complete a physical message transmission."]
[At this moment, this Terminator veteran from the Sons of Medusa slowly put the dog-shaped metal helmet back on his head, and then he said to you in an angry voice. ]
["Good news, there are plenty of flying vehicles in the city, and the few Thunderhawk gunships we temporarily abandoned around the front line should still be intact. Bad news, we may need to pass through most of the death city area occupied by the Hrud people.
Already.”]
["So, this strange Primarch, do you have any suggestions or opinions on this? As an Astartes, I am all ears."]
[At this moment, the other party’s obviously inflammatory words have just finished speaking. 】
[And as the vibranium modules are wrapped in countless living metals, they spread rapidly towards your entire head again. 】
[Your bronze face, which always maintains an indifferent expression, is completely covered by a pale golden hideous skull mask!]
["Well, there's no need for that. You've done a good enough job as Commander Astartes..."]
["Next, it's up to me, the original body, to help you find a way to survive!"]