"The Emperor Above!"
On Lexio, High Sister Magda stared in disbelief at the notebook sent from Ashford.
After flipping through a few pages, High Sister Magda was deeply shocked by the detailed content.
"Unit: Lictor"
"Armor: Chitinous Carapace, Chameleonic Carapace"
"Carried Weapons: Rending Claws, Scything Talons, Flesh Hooks."
"Description: A vanguard scout and assassin among Tyranids, it can move silently through the densest terrain, and its chameleonic carapace allows it to easily conceal itself.
For the hunt, it can lie in wait for days without making a sound until its prey reveals a weakness. Lictors can also gain intelligence by devouring the brains of creatures.
Furthermore, you can almost never truly kill a Lictor, because when it dies, its memories and 'consciousness' will be uploaded to the hive mind, to be downloaded again when it is next manufactured."
"Threat Level: Relatively Dangerous"
"Recommended Countermeasures: Turn around and look behind you; it might already be there."
Sister Magda gasped slightly.
Lictor. She understood Lictors, and she had fought Lictors before.
She had faced the Tyranid twice, and at that time, she was still young and inexperienced.
In both encounters with the Tyranid, she was targeted by a Lictor, but Magda ultimately triumphed over and killed those two Lictors.
No, not two.
Sister Magda's eyes widened slightly as she read the description of the Lictor in the notebook.
So that was it. No wonder she felt a sense of familiarity with the Lictor that ambushed her the second time.
These two Lictors were originally one; their memories and consciousness had been uploaded to the hive mind and downloaded again when needed.
High Sister Magda's expression grew a little serious.
The contents of this notebook were indeed extremely valuable.
If what it said was true, when the Tyranid invaded Lexio this time, it would likely release that Lictor again to deal with her.
Sister Magda gently reached out and touched the scar on her cheek.
She was already eighty-three years old, no longer the naive thirty-two-year-old novice.
Even if her body was older, she still wouldn't lose this time.
"Unit: Zoanthrope"
"Armor: Chitinous Carapace, Psychic Shield"
"Carried Weapons: Short claws, primarily relies on psychic powers for combat."
"Description: A psychic unit among Tyranids, created by the Tyranid based on Eldar genetic sequences, with its brain occupying most of its body.
Though seemingly frail, it possesses extremely powerful psychic abilities, enough to allow it to levitate and unleash psychic blasts capable of piercing adamantium.
Note: Zoanthropes often appear in clusters, with a leader known as an 'Illithid' subspecies, whose psychic power is equivalent to an alpharius Adeptus Astartes, responsible for helping the Zoanthropes control their psychic output."
"Threat Level: Extremely Dangerous"
"Recommended Countermeasures: After eliminating the Illithid, the Zoanthropes may burn out their own neurons due to being unable to withstand their own psychic power."
Commander Aleksey sat in the rather opulent cockpit of his Baneblade tank, staring blankly at the notebook sent from Ashford.
"Alpharius psyker?" Commander Aleksey's voice suddenly rose.
A powerful alpharius psyker could, with just a gesture, turn his Baneblade tank inside out and twist Aleksey into a pretzel.
He felt a certain distrust towards this notebook.
High Sister Magda noticed Aleksey's skepticism.
She spoke, "The content of this notebook is very detailed. Some parts of it completely align with what I know, but it's much richer."
"Commanders, Lord Alexander is indeed an expert on the Tyranid."
"Moreover, this notebook is very suitable for us. He hasn't broadly discussed the anatomy, physiology, and habits of Tyranids, but rather their weapons, armor, and combat performance."
"It's very valuable to us. I even suspect that Lord Alexander might be a hidden Biologis Magos?"
Facing Sister Magda's doubt, Alexander's mouth twitched slightly.
The reason he didn't write about the anatomy of Tyranids in the notebook was because he genuinely didn't know.
Alexander's understanding of the Tyranid almost entirely came from his memories of his previous life, only knowing information about Tyranids in combat.
He was basically clueless about deeper knowledge like anatomy and physiology.
It's just that it was a bit difficult to explain now.
"..Some time ago, I had a dream about an old man with brown hair dressed in a dark robe."
Alexander's mouth moved slightly as he casually made up a story:
"That old man told me that this Ashford was destined for disaster, but he couldn't bear to see humanity suffer."
"Now, seeing me as a righteous man, he bestowed upon me this notebook, instructing me to pass it on to you all on an auspicious day, to aid the Imperium in its fight against the Tyranid."
The Astra Militarum commanders around him listened, dumbfounded.
An old man in a dream, dark robe and brown hair, couldn't bear to see humanity suffer, passing on a book to the Imperium.
The more they heard, the more mystical it sounded.
General Drost's eye twitched slightly; he could tell Alexander was trying to attribute it to the Emperor.
But...
"Dark robe and brown hair? Could it be the Emperor…" High Sister Magda couldn't help but murmur.
Sister Magda seemed to believe Alexander's account, immediately thinking of the Emperor.
Seeing that even the High Sister of the Order of the Sacred Rose believed Alexander, the other Astra Militarum commanders had nothing to say and could only temporarily accept Alexander's explanation.
They then began to discuss various countermeasures based on the notebook Alexander had written.
"Zoanthropes are very threatening; it's best to bombard them from long range."
"I'm a bit worried about this thing called the Venomthrope. Commander Aleksey, you need to be careful."
"Gun Bug... So Gun Bugs can evolve different 'ammunition' based on situational needs."
"Insect Saint… This thing shouldn't actually appear, right?"
"If it appears, it should appear in Ashford, General Drost. If it really appears, just take it easy."
The initial discussion was about how to deal with specific Tyranid, and Alexander could offer many suggestions.
But in a short while, the content shifted to specific tactical levels.
Alexander felt that he couldn't compare to these veteran Astra Militarum generals in this regard.
He understood the Tyranid better than the Astra Militarum.
Bored, Alexander quietly left the meeting, slipped out of the church, and went to where a group of Lyttin and Cadian soldiers had gathered outside the church doors.
Lyttin are a human subspecies, typically shorter in stature.
And almost every one of them is a master of thievery, gambling, shooting, and cooking.
General Drost had an auxiliary force of Lyttin, and it was said they had even stolen the general's precious hip flask.
As Alexander smoothly glided over to them, these short people were playing by shooting cans with practice guns.
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
A brown-haired Lyttin, holding a practice gun, fired six shots in quick succession.
The six cans in the distance fell in response.
The Lyttin cheered.
"The current highest record is still mine, Hobien White Deer! Is there anyone else who wants to challenge?"
The Lyttin organizing the competition asked, raising both hands:
"Whether you are Lyttin or Cadian, even an Ogryn, as long as you can surpass Hobien White Deer, you can win the grand prize of our competition."
"And all Lyttin will respectfully call you 'Champion'!"
Not a single Cadian stepped forward to try.
Alexander watched the scene with interest.
"Every Cadian is a sharpshooter."
Just as Alexander was watching, Sister Adelaide walked up to him:
"But Lyttin are even better. I heard that even a young Lyttin can shoot a fly on a Grox from a hundred paces away."
"Since arriving in Ashford, I don't know how many Cadian challengers have lost to this Lyttin marksman."
Alexander listened to Adeleide's story and nodded, finding it quite amusing.
Finally, a Cadian couldn't stand the provocation, stood up, grabbed a training gun, and stepped onto the field.
He offered a pack of lho cigarettes as a wager to the Lyttin organizing the competition, then raised the training gun and pulled the trigger.
All six cans flew into the air.
"Accurate enough, but not fast enough!" The Lyttin, checking his watch, grinned and said, "Our competition requires hitting six cans at the fastest speed."
The Cadian spat, retreating with a look of displeasure.
"Why did you leave the meeting room?" When the gunshots faded, Adeleide looked at Alexander and asked.
"I came to have the Lyttin respectfully call me 'Champion'," Alexander said, shrugging his shoulders.
His voice wasn't quiet, and the Lyttin around him immediately turned to look at him like a group of mice.
"Is this person a local of Ashford?" The Lyttin organizing the competition grinned: "Then why not pick up a gun?"
Alexander smiled, casually pulled a pack of lho cigarettes from his four-dimensional pocket, and tossed it to the Lyttin.
Then he raised the gun and aimed at the six cans in front of him.
Gunshots rang out in an instant. Before anyone present could react, Alexander lowered his gun, and a single can fell.
The Lyttin around them exchanged glances, then burst into hearty laughter a few seconds later.
"You only hit one can. Sorry, friend, your marksmanship doesn't deserve the title of Champion."
The Lyttin organizing the competition bowed to Alexander:
"But we thank you for the lho cigarettes."
"Is that so? Then I should also thank you for your prize," Alexander chuckled, walked forward, picked up the can from the ground, and said.
He tossed the can to the Lyttin.
The Lyttin took the can with a bewildered expression; there was only one bullet hole in it.
Then, the Lyttin shook the can a few times, and his eyes widened.
Ignoring the surprised looks of those around him,
He quickly took out the prize, respectfully walked up to Alexander, and presented it.
It was a metal hip flask with patterns, seemingly filled with wine.
"Champion," the Lyttin said respectfully.
Alexander took the hip flask, nodded slightly, then turned and left.
The meeting in the church was about to end; it was almost time for him to go back.
Both Sister Adelaide and the Lyttin and Cadians watched Alexander leave with bewildered expressions.
They still hadn't figured out what had happened.
Even Adeleide couldn't help her curiosity and gathered around, wanting to see what exactly had transpired.
"Old White Deer, did his remaining five bullets go into your hook?"
"Yeah! He shot very fast, but he only hit one shot, so why did you give up?"
"Quick, show us the can."
Looking at the crowd gathered around, the Lyttin organizing the competition raised the can in his hand and shook it vigorously a few times.
A series of rattling sounds came from inside the can.
There was a moment of silence in the air, then the people around burst into exclamations.
There were clearly more than one bullet in the can,
But there was only one bullet hole on the can itself.
"Six bullets, all in the can!"
The Lyttin organizing the competition solemnly raised the can high:
"But only one bullet hole!"
"We have a true Champion!"
The onlookers around immediately erupted in cheers and admiration.
Adeleide couldn't help but gasp.
This meant that Alexander had just fired six shots in the blink of an eye.
After the first shot hit, all the remaining bullets entered the same can through the same bullet hole.
This was almost a divine skill!
Even she, a Battle Sister, could absolutely not do it.
Neither could the Cadians and Lyttin, who were all sharpshooters.
"Champion!" Adeleide couldn't help but join the Lyttin and Cadians around her in shouting.
For a moment, outside the church, there was only a chorus of enthusiastic cheers.
Alexander, carrying the wine-filled hip flask, returned to the church with a happy expression.
The meeting in the church was mostly over.
The commanders on the laser communicator noticed Alexander's return, nodded gently to him, and then one by one cut off their connections.
"The general tactics have been discussed. We will abandon more than sixty percent of Ashford's districts."
General Drost stood up and said to Alexander.
"This is necessary," Alexander nodded slightly, agreeing with General Drost's idea.
There were only three million Astra Militarum in the entire sector, and even fewer on Ashford.
These people could not defend a planet with thirty billion inhabitants.
"Verdia city will be the main battlefield. The districts we will defend are those currently completely under your control."
General Drost, seeing Alexander's agreement, continued:
"We will discuss the specific combat arrangements for each district in detail later."
"The key now is to evacuate the residents of the Lower Nest. Sister Adelaide will assist you."
At this point, General Drost's eyes flickered slightly.
He noticed the patterned hip flask hanging from Alexander's waist.
Alexander grinned, raised the hip flask, and shook it at General Drost, saying, "My spoils of war."
"Just won it back from a group of Lyttin."
Upon hearing this, General Drost's expression twitched slightly, half in pain, half in heartache.
He couldn't help but reach out and clutch his heart, saying:
"This hip flask… it's the one the Lyttin stole from me… it contains my treasured Amasec!"