"Brothers, let the enemy on the other side of the stars know the might of us Orks!"
Francis stood on the shoulder of the mechanical giant, constantly encouraging the Orks working hard below. "Brothers, if we want to go to the other side of the stars, I need the giant to be able to turn into a spaceship."
The Orks below showed a hint of confusion, but quickly sprang into action.
Towering workshops built from scrap metal stood one after another, billowing with smoke and spitting sparks, while the air was thick with a mixed scent of engine oil and charred coke.
"Did you understand what the boss just said?" An Ork wearing glasses asked an Ork next to him who was piling up materials.
"Nope. Don't know what the boss is talking about. Did you understand?"
The bespectacled Ork: "I didn't either, did anyone else understand?"
"I asked, they didn't get it either."
The bespectacled Ork: "And here I thought I was the only one who didn't get it. Oh well, let's do this!"
Clang clang bang~
These grease-stained, muscle-bound Ork engineers continuously piled up battlefield-recovered wreckage, discarded mechanical parts, and even fragments of enemy weapons together.
If the people of the Adeptus Mechanicus saw this scene, they would certainly curse a blue streak.
They just slapped two pieces of iron together without even using rivets, and called it a day!
They completely failed to understand what the technical principles behind it were.
Because once the Orks initiated a "Waaagh~", they gained a strange kind of energy.
It allowed them to ignore certain laws of physics and fuse some weird things together, and what's more, it actually worked.
Furthermore, as the scale of the Orks grew larger, various ranks and professions would automatically differentiate among them.
"Brothers, to bring you back the fruits of victory, I need the spaceship to have a huge pair of mechanical arms, the kind that can firmly grab onto a massive spaceship." Francis was still making his request tactfully.
"Huge mechanical arms? Must be like this, right."
"Must be!"
"I reckon it'll work."
Several Orks dismantled a rusted chainsword and a Gargant into a pile of junk, then hammered away at it, fashioned it into a stick-like shape, and jammed it straight in.
"This work of yours won't do! Use mine instead." A cyborg Ork walked over carrying an exquisite steel arm.
The bespectacled Ork immediately became displeased. "Your stuff is just trash! Ours is better!"
The cyborg Ork: "You're the trash! You just yell like a Gretchin that got its toe stepped on."
"Hah? You looking for a scrap!"
"Bring it on! I'll take you lot on by myself!"
As soon as the cyborg Ork finished speaking, those few Orks rushed forward. A crowd surrounded them, shouting with excitement.
Off to the side, the Gretchins who hadn't gathered around were cooking Squigs. Although there was only one ingredient, they managed to make all sorts of variations out of it.
Some were made directly into skewers, others were marinated in fungus beer, stuffed into fungi and plants, and then simmered over low heat. They could even be stir-fried on high heat with fungus slices.
Gretchins were considered symbiotic creatures of the Orks, but Gretchins loved to suck up to the Orks, and the might of the Orks filled them with boundless adoration.
Because of Francis, the Gretchins treated Gugu exceptionally well, constantly bringing new food to Gugu.
This resulted in Gugu, who was originally only the size of a puppy, now being fed to a height of over three meters.
Francis watched as the thing they piled up looked like an oversized grenade assembled from junk, complete with two mechanical arms shaped like gas cylinders.
Especially the round fingers; Francis couldn't help wondering, Can this really grab anything?
"Boss, it's in the bag!" The Orks below gave Francis a thumbs-up and flashed smiles they thought looked good.
Francis twitched the corner of his mouth. In truth, over these seven or eight days spent with the Orks, he felt an unprecedented sense of unbridled freedom.
The Orks' mindset was simple: if you're pissed off, fight; if you're happy, fight; if you're sad, fight.
It seemed there was nothing that couldn't be resolved by a good brawl.
Moreover, no matter who won, the other Orks would cheer along just as if they were the ones who had won.
Even when they weren't fighting, there would be Gretchins coming over to scratch their backs, cook for them, and put on performances.
There was even a moment when he genuinely wanted to stay here.
Deep in the forest.
"Could the Primarch actually want to stay here? Look at his expression!"
"Why does he look so reluctant to leave this place!"
The Adeptus Custodes felt their scalps tingle, their palms gripping their Power Halberds sweating profusely. If a Primarch were to betray the Imperium and embrace the Xenos, that was absolutely not allowed.
They would even use Exterminatus to destroy every trace and erase this heresy from the records.
"Impossible! Absolutely impossible!"
"The Primarch is only doing this to achieve certain objectives!"
"We cannot lose the Primarch again!"
The Soul Drinkers simultaneously clenched their fists. They could not accept their dead Primarch reviving only to be killed once more. If that happened, their minds would completely shatter.
"The Primarch is making a move! He's boarding the ship!"
"Look!"
The Soul Drinkers saw that Francis had already boarded the warship built by the Orks, and he was all by himself.
"Brothers, I shall carry the glory of the Orks and head to the other side of the stars!"
"Win or lose, I will scatter the seeds of the Orks!"
"Wait for my triumphant return!"
With that, amidst the cheers of the Orks, Francis piloted the Super Grenade toward the valley region where the Hrafnkel lay.
The Custodes and Soul Drinkers in the forest simultaneously received a transmission sent by Francis.
"Hurry back to the Hrafnkel. We're going to Prospero!"
Their eyes widened instantly, and an impossible thought popped into their heads. The Primarch isn't going to use an Ork warship to take us to Prospero, is he?!
Obviously.
They had no time to think; what they needed to do right now was to return to the Hrafnkel immediately, as they had no desire to linger in this region.
Meanwhile, back in the Ork tribe.
"The Boss is gone. What do we do?"
The cyborg Ork: "Ahem, since the Boss isn't here, I hold the highest rank, so of course I should..."
"Bollocks, you fit to be the boss? Let's have a fight! Waaagh~"
The previously orderly Ork camp instantly descended into total chaos, with countless Orks fighting one another, none of them willing to submit to the rest.
It seemed the newly unified Ork tribe had once again dissolved into countless tiny camps.
Gretchins scampered back and forth among the various small groups of Orks, jumping around while standing less than knee-high to an Ork, hoping desperately to be chosen by one.
On a nearby ridge, only Gugu stared in the direction Francis had departed, whimpering softly.
Deep in the valley.
Leman Russ stared at the Ork warship before him, which was much larger than the Hrafnkel, and fell into deep contemplation.
Originally, they had thought they were discovered by the Orks, right up until Francis contacted them.
And then he put forward a bold idea.
"You mean to use the mechanical arms of the Ork warship to grab the Hrafnkel, and then perform warp faster-than-light travel?"
Hearing Leman Russ repeat his idea once more, Francis patted him on the shoulder and said, "Exactly!"
Leman Russ felt his mind go completely blank. If this plan hadn't been spoken by Francis, he would have suspected the fellow was an enemy spy.
"O great Omnissiah! Look at this wondrous technology!"
"Who knew engines could be made like this! It looks like it just has two extra tubes, but in reality, it really does have two extra tubes!"
"How magical!"
The Adeptus Mechanicus tech-priest nearby looked as though he had laid eyes on an peerless beauty, pressing his entire body directly against the hull.
He continuously caressed every corner of the Super Grenade, completely intoxicated by it.
"Ahem, Priest. The plan Francis just mentioned, will it work?"
Hearing Leman Russ coughing repeatedly over there, the priest finally climbed down from the warship with extreme reluctance, resuming his previous aloof demeanor.
"Technically speaking, it is feasible. We can..."
Before the priest could finish, Leman Russ cut him off and continued, "If it's feasible, then do it. The Hrafnkel can't be repaired in a short time anyway."
When everything was ready.
Francis flipped open the cover of the red button and prompted, "Everyone remember to fasten your safety restraints, we're setting off~"
Just as someone was showing a look of disdain, Francis pressed the red button.
Whoosh~
The Super Grenade, gripping the Hrafnkel, instantly treated everyone to a zero-second faster-than-light jump!
A massive G-force slammed into them fiercely; everyone was firmly sucked into the back of their seats, and the jump even blasted a complete vacuum zone right across the planet.
"Everyone must remember to fasten up, I forgot to mention earlier that this Ork spaceship spins."
"What the fuck!"
Just as everyone widened their eyes to complain, the entire battleship had already begun spinning at terrifying speed.
In the Warp, a group of demons were resting; recent days seemed to have been pretty good.
Suddenly.
One, no! Two spaceships roared past crazily right through the area, smashing them directly into bloody mist.
Even so, the hull gave a noticeable thud!
It still caught Leman Russ's attention, and he subsequently asked, "Francis, what just happened?"
"Nothing, nothing of consequence~"
It seemed all obstacles were completely insignificant in the face of an Ork spaceship.
In the blink of an eye, they sailed out of the Warp and crashed straight into one of the pyramids on Prospero.
"Enemy attack!!!"
Before you continue