The City of Dawn, true to its name, was always shrouded in a hazy, dawn-like glow.
If its buildings hadn't been so dilapidated, it would have been exquisitely beautiful.
After the Spirit Race Empire collapsed, the City of Dawn was abandoned.
Mist enveloped the crumbling ruins, and it was simply forgotten.
Only today was an exception.
The Humans and Spirit Race pouring in stained this ruined city with traces of smoke and fire.
Buildings shrouded in mist collapsed amidst explosions.
Spirit bones were stained with blood.
In the ruins, shattered corpses lay scattered, like a hellish Shura battlefield.
When the reinforcements led by Fulgrim entered the battlefield, the war was declared over.
What followed could no longer be called a war; it was more like a slaughter.
Inside a Drukhari / Dark Aeldari cruiser.
"Kill! Kill! Kill! Slash! Slash! Slash!"
"Blood for the Emperor, Skulls for the Throne!!"
Wan Lao roared as he slaughtered.
His voice was like the roar of a terrifying, bloodthirsty beast.
The chainaxe in his hand swung continuously, its high-speed rotating teeth easily tearing through enemy armor.
When they realized he was approaching, the Drukhari / Dark Aeldari, who once reveled in instilling fear, all turned pale with fright.
He had fought his way through the entire battleship, and any Drukhari / Dark Aeldari who attempted to ambush him were torn in half by his chainaxe.
Crimson blood splattered everywhere, leaving behind a trail of severed limbs.
A group of well-equipped Drukhari / Dark Aeldari, clustered around a Haemonculi, fled towards the hangar.
As Wan Lao approached, several Spirit Race members broke away from the group to confront him, intending to buy time for their companions.
"Nightmare?"
Wan Lao instantly recognized the unit of Drukhari / Dark Aeldari that had come to stop him.
Nightmares typically served as mercenaries in Gomorrah.
They were similar to the Aspect Warriors of the Craftworlds, dedicated to pursuing superb skill and perfect slaughter.
In the mercenary market, the demand for Nightmares was very high.
Anyone with a bit of status in Gomorrah would choose to hire them.
Nightmare armor was covered in spikes, and their helmets were adorned with a pile of horns, making them look very much like demons.
"Blood for the Emperor, Skulls for the Throne!!"
Wan Lao roared as he charged towards the Nightmares.
The enemy's movements revealed an elegance composed of distortion and insidious intent.
Every movement carried a perverse inclination towards slaughter and pain.
Clang~~
The clash of weapons echoed.
At that moment, Wan Lao's other hand's bolter fired.
With a bang, the Nightmare's head exploded.
The entire process was too fast.
Even the Drukhari / Dark Aeldari, renowned for their speed, couldn't react.
Wan Lao's kill count +1.
Whoosh!
A whooshing sound rang out.
Another Nightmare, wielding a broadsword, hacked down at Wan Lao.
This broadsword, called a Klaive, was a power weapon and the Nightmares' favorite; a masterpiece of extreme sharpness, it could easily cut through steel.
After dodging, Wan Lao used the chainaxe in his hand to cut through the opponent's body.
The splattered blood made his armor even redder.
The other Nightmares swarmed him.
But in a short while, they were scattered and slain by Wan Lao.
A Nightmare, with only half its body remaining, struggled to crawl away, wanting to survive.
But Wan Lao stomped on its head, crushing it.
"Still trying to run? Today, this head of yours must belong to the Emperor."
Wan Lao flicked his war axe, shaking off the blood from the blade.
Then he set off to chase the fleeing Haemonculi.
Clad in his Hell Pioneer Power Armor, he looked somewhat cumbersome, but his speed was astonishingly fast.
After a short while, he saw that group of Drukhari / Dark Aeldari again.
Seeing his appearance, they let out screams of terror.
A Nightmare squad was enough to hunt down the strongest creatures in the galaxy.
Yet, in the hands of that guy, they couldn't last three minutes.
Is this even a Human?
Could it be Khorne directly possessed him?
Several Drukhari / Dark Aeldari, covered in chains and spikes, lunged at him.
Wan Lao didn't stop; he crashed into one of the Drukhari / Dark Aeldari like a heavy tank.
After a dull thud,
The Drukhari / Dark Aeldari who collided with Wan Lao was sent flying by the brutal impact.
It landed against the wall with a dull thud.
Upon impact, its armor, covered in bone spikes, showed shocking cracks.
Its entire ribcage was caved in.
The Drukhari / Dark Aeldari struggled a few times, trying to stand up, but couldn't, eventually losing all signs of life.
Wan Lao continuously pulled the trigger.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Gunshots rang out incessantly.
Bolts poured out, tearing apart the bodies of those Drukhari / Dark Aeldari in an instant.
The joy of mowing down enemies made Wan Lao let out an excited howl.
The Haemonculi and other Drukhari / Dark Aeldari looked at him with increasing terror.
"Quick, stop him, stop him."
The Haemonculi Master repeatedly urged his subordinates to buy him time.
But this was meaningless; they couldn't stop the rampaging Wan Lao.
After the last charging Drukhari / Dark Aeldari was cleanly beheaded by him, only the Haemonculi and Wan Lao remained on the Shura-like battlefield.
Haemonculis, also known as Lords of Pain, are terrifying and insane Drukhari / Dark Aeldari flesh sculptors, the most fearsome masters of torture in the galaxy.
They are remnants of the ancient Spirit Race Empire's nobility, possessing withered and horrifying bodies, with an obsessive pursuit of torture and pain.
The Haemonculi in front of Wan Lao had multiple segmented limbs, like a spider.
Each limb was fitted with torture instruments: saws, scalpels, claws, syringes, etc.
Its appearance, if put into a horror movie, would make even a horror movie BOSS cry in terror.
"Now, you may scream." Wan Lao looked at the Haemonculi, his tone laced with mockery.
The Haemonculi Master was both furious and fearful.
Afraid of the opponent's strength, yet angry at the mockery.
"Monkey, you will pay for this."
Even in fear, the Haemonculi's voice carried an indescribable malice.
Wan Lao was about to make a move, but the next second, he felt something strange about the war axe in his hand.
Picking it up, he found that the axe blade had several runes outlined in crimson blood.
The blood that had been on the axe blade was strangely absorbed by these red runes.
The axe blade emanated an aura of desire for blood and slaughter.
At this moment, a golden light screen appeared.
Name: Bloodthirsty War Axe,
The Machine Spirit has gained the attention of a Warp entity representing slaughter and blessings due to excessive killing.
The more it kills, the stronger it becomes.
Skill: Slaughter Aura (Each kill grants an aura buff, increasing slaughter efficiency)
Skill: Bloodthirsty Life (Even if the war axe is damaged, it can be repaired through slaughter)
"Can weapons in this game also evolve?!"
Wan Lao was somewhat surprised.
He had never thought that the Machine Spirits in the Warhammer Universe could also be blessed.
This is still a sci-fi world!
Meanwhile, in the Brass Citadel, Khorne looked at his masterpiece with satisfaction.
At this moment, he felt he was a genius.
Khorne felt that the authority representing wisdom should be given to him, not to that useless blue-feathered bird.
The Cursed One, no matter how much he guarded, would not have thought of this trick!
Since the God Chosen couldn't be blessed, then their equipment would be blessed.
To prevent those foreign dependents from discarding the blessed weapons,
He specifically stripped away the corrupted part of the blessing,
Leaving only the pure Warp authority effects of war and slaughter.
This was just the beginning; he would use sugar-coated bullets to slowly corrupt the minds of these foreign dependents,
Then, with one strike, he would directly snatch them away.
Ha! Ha! Ha!
Cursed One, what will you use to contend with my peerless wisdom?
Wan Lao didn't know what was going on.
"Could it be that the developers have introduced new features?"
"Never mind, I'll worry about it after the fight."
The Haemonculi nearby could also sense the change in the war axe, and a look of horror appeared on his face.
Drukhari / Dark Aeldari do not use psychic powers, but they still retain a highly sensitive constitution to them.
He could sense that the war axe had been blessed by a Chaos God.
To be honest, he had never seen such a situation.
Chaos Gods usually bestow blessings upon individuals; how could they bless a weapon?
This was too bizarre; these Humans definitely had a problem!
Wan Lao looked back at the Haemonculi standing not far away.
"Why aren't you screaming yet?"
"You wish." The Haemonculi glared at Wan Lao.
He was born before the Great Cataclysm in the Spirit Race Empire, a noble of immense power.
And this guy in front of him was just a monkey who wielded brute force.
He would never allow his dignity to be trampled upon; even if he died, he would maintain the demeanor of a noble.
Thirty seconds later,
The Haemonculi Master screamed.
"No! Don't do this!!"
"Please."
Haemonculis typically had means of resurrection.
However, the war axe blessed by Khorne possessed ultimate destructive power.
It could sever so-called resurrections and shatter souls.
Facing true death, the proud Haemonculi begged for mercy like the despicable slaves he had tortured.
"How vexing. I still liked your arrogant look from before. Couldn't you have kept it up?"
As his voice fell, the roaring war axe sliced through the opponent's head.
Bang! The head hit the ground with a dull thud, rolled across the spirit bone floor, and finally struck a step.
A Haemonculi Master, thus fell.
...
The lower deck of the Drukhari / Dark Aeldari cruiser.
Old Thirteen swung his fist, as big as a sandbag.
With one punch, he tore a Drukhari / Dark Aeldari into pieces.
Then, he saw several Drukhari / Dark Aeldari charging at him.
"You pieces of trash, daring to ambush a smart Ogryn!!"
Old Thirteen raised the staff in his hand.
Violent psychic energy erupted, and endless lightning surged forth, instantly turning them into charcoal.
The charred corpses fell to the ground, emitting a pungent, burnt smell.
Old Thirteen stepped over the corpses and walked to a large door with ancient Spirit Race script.
After punching the control device, the door slowly opened.
A foul, fishy smell wafted out from inside.
The Players' armor automatically activated its filtration system, which prevented them from vomiting.
Behind the door was a torture chamber.
Countless torture instruments were arranged on shelves along the walls.
Many tortured-to-death corpses or unfortunate souls who were still alive were hung by chains and hooks.
They hung from the ceiling, were tied to crucifixes, or...
Seeing the scene inside the torture chamber,
The Players only felt that the horror movies they had seen before, like Saw and Cannibal Holocaust, could truly be classified with Teletubbies as children's entertainment.
Many scenes in the torture chamber, if photographed and uploaded to websites on Reality, would instantly cross the website's red line, not only leading to a ban but also potentially a visit from the authorities.
Using human words to describe the cruelty of the torture chamber seemed so pale and powerless.
"There's a reason this game is in closed beta and the game company's address isn't disclosed."
"If this game's content were released, parents would flip the game company upside down and drag the developers out for a beating."
Blind Monk and other Players felt their scalps tingle.
This game was truly daring, creating all sorts of content!
Fortunately, the game helmet had an emotional dampening protection system, and coupled with their upgrade to Primaris, possessing strong willpower, they could face such terrifying scenes.
Otherwise, the first glance at the torture chamber would have sent him screaming and running away.
Next to the torture chamber was a long, dark, and gloomy corridor.
After the Players walked through, they found it was a prison, holding a large number of human slaves and unidentifiable xenos.
In the darkness, pairs of lifeless eyes looked at the Players who had entered.
Numbness, bewilderment, fear, despair.
Most of them had no clothes, only a piece of tattered cloth.
Their exposed skin was covered in centipede-like scars.
Some had their hands and feet cut off, or their eyes gouged out, or their tongues pulled out.
Some had shocking wounds crawling with maggots.
It was hard to imagine what kind of torment they had endured before.
Facing the Players who suddenly appeared before them, the imprisoned slaves showed no panic, no joy, only numbness.
Excessive torment and fear had activated a protective mechanism in their nervous systems, automatically numbing their emotions so they could survive.
"A bunch of damned beasts."
Old Thirteen broke open the rune lock and opened the prison cell.
But the slaves remained motionless.
No one dared to step out; they all instinctively moved away from them.
These slaves were clearly terrified out of their minds by the cruelty of the Drukhari / Dark Aeldari.
"Try this."
One Player opened the Ecclesiarchy's missionary recording, from which came the sound of a choir.
Children sang in pure voices, praising the great God Emperor, thanking Him for protecting humanity in the dark universe.
The sacred singing awakened their numb hearts.
A glimmer of emotion appeared in their vacant eyes.
The despairing slaves saw the double-headed eagle emblem on the Players' shoulder and chest plates.
Past memories flooded their numb minds.
"Are you the Emperor's Angels?"
A gaunt middle-aged woman, clutching a bundle of cloth, stepped out and stood before the tall Old Thirteen.
Her body was so frail, her weight probably couldn't even match one of Old Thirteen's arms.
Looking down at the middle-aged woman before him, Old Thirteen could feel the despair in her chest.
It was all too real.
Even though it was just a game, Old Thirteen treated this NPC as a real human.
He knelt on one knee, bringing his gaze level with hers.
"Yes, we are the Emperor's Angels. I'm sorry, we came late."
Tears welled up in the middle-aged woman's eyes.
She extended a trembling hand and touched the golden double-headed eagle on Old Thirteen's chest.
Her voice choked with sobs as she spoke, "Noble Angel, can you... can you kill all those xenos? They... they..."
The middle-aged woman broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. She reached out and uncovered the cloth bundle.
Inside was the skinless, dismembered, bloody corpse of a child.
On that blood-soaked face, the muscle lines left by pain still lingered.
"These beasts," Blind Monk added.
The other Players also widened their eyes.
"Damn it, the operations team deserves to be cut into a thousand pieces."
"Kill me with Mandela's poison, not with the plot!"
"This child's corpse is still bleeding, meaning he just died not long ago. The operations team is too beastly."
"So, if we had acted a little faster, this child wouldn't have had to die."
...
Old Thirteen watched this scene, a mix of emotions in his heart.
He also wanted to curse the officials, but it seemed they hadn't done anything wrong.
They had merely revealed the darkest and most cruel truth of the Warhammer Universe.
In this universe, survival was never an inherent right, but a trophy earned through countless sacrifices.
"We will have our revenge, revenge for every deceased."
Old Thirteen pointed to the child's corpse in the woman's arms, "And we will avenge him in his name."
"Thank you," the woman said.
Old Thirteen stood up and looked around at the slaves in the prison, "Immediately notify the supporting Imperial forces to take these Imperial citizens away."
"Then, we continue."
"The Drukhari / Dark Aeldari love slaughter so much, then we will satisfy them. We will release photos from here, call on other Warbands to take revenge together, and make Gomorrah burn."
"What if other Warbands don't respond?" Blind Monk asked.
"Then we'll go ourselves. We'll rent a battleship with a respawn point and slowly wear those guys down," Old Thirteen said firmly.
"We are the Fourth Scourge. As long as we want to do it, we will definitely succeed."
...
Curez of the Blackheart Cabal, protected by his confidants, fled the cruiser and escaped into the depths of the Webway aboard a gunboat, looking utterly disheveled.
The Players of the Emperor Niuma Battle Group pursued relentlessly, finally catching up to him at a Webway node.
They destroyed the gunboat Curez was riding, forcing him to land.
Another fierce battle erupted between the two sides.
Curez's confidants were no match for the Players and were routed.
"All useless," Curez fumed, seeing his personal guard squad killed by those humans in less than a minute.
These guys ate the best, used the best, and ended up being so weak!
Curez cursed as he fled in a disheveled state into a narrow Webway.
However, the pursuers quickly located them and caught up again, biting at their heels.
To cover his retreat, four of the six confidants who had fled with him had to stay behind to hold them off and buy him time.
Gunfire suddenly erupted behind him.
It lasted for a moment, then stopped again.
Clearly, they were gone.
"Why is the combat power of these guys so strong?" Curez's face was ashen.
The combat power of these human Astartes was much stronger than before.
Could the Human Empire have developed some new technology?
Damn it!
He had to survive and bring this news back.
Curez encouraged himself inwardly.
Returning in utter defeat, Vect would surely be furious, but he would most likely not die.
As long as one was alive, there was a chance to rise again.
He would surely avenge today's humiliation in the future.
Just then, the roar of engines sounded.
The Players had caught up.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Gunshots rang out continuously.
A confidant next to Curez was hit, half his body exploded, and his remains flew forward, landing on the Webway ground, kicking up a mist.
Another confidant's face showed fear; he no longer cared about loyalty and turned to run in another direction.
"There's not a single loyal one in Gomorrah."
Curez's eyes widened as he watched his subordinate flee, furious to death.
He had considered this guy a confidant and hadn't even kicked his mistress hard enough.
And now, he was betraying him in battle.
Bang!
Another gunshot broke Curez's leg, sending him howling to the ground.
Curez wanted to talk to those humans, to ask them to spare him.
As soon as he turned his head, he saw a cold, gleaming blade slash down, instantly severing his head.
It was Warmaster who had struck the blow.
"This guy could really run; I almost let him escape back to Gomorrah."
Warmaster lifted the headless corpse from the ground, then picked up the fallen head, and tossed them onto the gunboat.
"Retreat," Warmaster said to his companions.
"Wait a moment," Tenjiro suddenly called out to everyone, "Look at the chat channel. Old Thirteen is calling on all Players to launch a reckoning against Gomorrah."
Twisted person, Zhuge, and other Players looked surprised and quickly entered the chat channel.
They found that the Hogwarts Battle Group had posted many photos of the torture chamber and also released a video of that woman pleading for all xenos to be killed.
They were calling on all Players to launch a counterattack and reckoning against Gomorrah.
Tenjiro looked at Warmaster, "This guy seems to be quite provoked."
"Should we respond?" Zhuge looked at Warmaster.
"Damn it," Warmaster cursed.
The other Players exchanged glances, not understanding what he meant.
"You don't want to get involved in this?" Tenjiro was a little disappointed.
"No!" Warmaster shook his head, "I just don't want to be preempted by this guy."
"Next time, remember to remind me to seize the initiative in declaring war."
In the chat channel, the Hogwarts Battle Group's call received enthusiastic support from the Player community.
Dora Workshop, MC Dynasty, Agricultural College, and other farming organizations all stated they could provide the necessary supplies for attacking Gomorrah at cost price.
Clearly, the Drukhari / Dark Aeldari's various cruelties against human slaves had enraged these Players.
They were planning to retaliate against Gomorrah.
Alex also noticed the Players' movements.
"This situation is getting a bit out of control!"
"Are these Players so autonomous now that they dare to organize wars themselves?"
Pacing back and forth in his office for a few rounds, Alex summoned Cortana to create a data pack with attacking Gomorrah as the main quest, and also to speed up the Go Live of the twelfth batch of Players.
There was no other way; the Drukhari / Dark Aeldari had gone too far.
The Players were so angry that they would fight them to the death even if they didn't level up.
Alex also didn't want to forcibly suppress the Players' anger, so the only path left was to gather troops and go to war.
To be honest, it was indeed time to eradicate this cancer of the galaxy.
Let Gomorrah burn.