Fierce Battle (Eight-Thousand-Word Chapter)

Stinger Squad was advancing rapidly from the Abominable Worm transport ship toward the Bloody Worm transport ship where Vlahos was located.

Along the way, they traversed through karst caves and canyons, encountering neither friend nor foe.

It was not until Stinger Squad breached the interior of the Bloody Worm from its far side that they finally entered the vessel.

Gult took the lead, with Fu Qinghai following closely behind.

The squad members moved in a single file, navigating quickly through the narrow corridors of the transport ship.

Traces of combat were everywhere along the path.

The squad members saw the corpses of Ultramarines, the corpses of Word Bearers, the corpses of traitorous mortal crewmen, and the corpses of individuals in strange attire who did not resemble crew members.

The bodies of the Space Marines bore various lethal wounds, but what Fu Qinghai found strange were the wounds on the traitorous mortal crewmen.

There was residual slime on their faces, and their chests had been ripped open into gaping holes, leaving their thoracic cavities completely hollow.

Strange... Fu Qinghai frowned inwardly as he looked at these corpses; he did not recall any weapon in the Warhammer 40K universe that could cause wounds of this shape.

As they were moving forward.

Suddenly, a black shadow darted out from a hole in a pipe on the side of the corridor and lunged at Fu Qinghai.

With the reaction speed of an Astartes superhuman, Fu Qinghai did not hesitate for a second; the moment he caught a glimpse of the shadow in his peripheral vision, he flicked his wrist, and his long blade slashed upward in a diagonal arc.

A flash of steel.

The black shadow was sliced in two.

Fu Qinghai looked down and felt a jolt of shock.

What the hell, a Xenomorph?

A monster with a black exoskeleton carapace and a slender physique lay at Fu Qinghai's feet, its head extending backward into a long crest, eyeless, possessing only a maw of sharp teeth dripping with transparent saliva.

It was the Xenomorph from the Alien film series.

The body of this Xenomorph had been severed by Fu Qinghai's blade, and the yellowish, turbid blood flowing from the cross-section was corroding the steel floor, hissing and emitting white smoke.

In the few seconds that the entire team had stopped following Fu Qinghai, a series of screams rang out.

Another black Xenomorph lunged from the side, latching itself entirely onto Gult's helmet.

"Hiss~ hisss~"

Terrifying, eerie hissing sounds erupted from all directions.

Stinger Squad was being attacked by Xenomorphs from every side.

Swift black shadows emerged rapidly from narrow pipes, overhead vents, and behind bundles of cables, pouncing toward the members of Stinger Squad.

The cross-shaped muzzle flashes of Bolters lit up the narrow corridor, and the entire passage was suddenly filled with the roar of gunfire.

The Space Marines of Stinger Squad had been caught off guard by the sudden appearance of these alien creatures.

A sharp, black, bony tail whipped out like a lash, wrapping around the Bolter held by an Ultramarine, but the warrior pulled back with such immense force that the entire Xenomorph was yanked into the air and slammed against the bulkhead.

It was then finished off with a shot to the head.

Scenes like this played out repeatedly.

Before long, the gunfire gradually died down.

The Space Marines, having finished their skirmishes with the Xenomorphs, looked at one another.

There were no casualties.

"Stinger Squad, report status." Gult's voice came through the vox-grille.

"No injuries."

"Unharmed."

"Unharmed."

The squad members reported in one by one.

Not a single person had even been wounded.

To think someone is actually incubating Xenomorphs inside a transport ship... it must be the Reincarnators, Fu Qinghai speculated inwardly.

This was the third time Fu Qinghai had encountered other Reincarnators since entering the Warhammer 40K world.

There were more spoilers in this seemingly ordinary combat mission than he had imagined.

He did not yet know if they were friends or foes.

However, the combat effectiveness of these Xenomorphs was a bit too weak.

At least for an Astartes Monk.

Fu Qinghai shook the power blade in his hand, thinking to himself.

Then, he suddenly realized something.

Fu Qinghai looked down and slammed his thumb onto the Power Field generator button on the hilt of his power blade.

The expected blue electric arc did not appear; the power field generator on the hilt of the power sword had been corroded by the yellowish, turbid liquid, exposing the pitted and scarred internal structure.

"Damn it, my blade is ruined," Fu Qinghai couldn't help but curse.

It turned out that during the previous skirmish with the xenomorphs, the creature's blood had splashed onto the hilt.

"Sir, my helmet display is malfunctioning."

Another Space Marine reported, and as he spoke, he removed his helmet.

The yellowish, turbid liquid dripped down the helmet, and the crimson lenses had become hopelessly blurred.

Gult looked at the pitted blue plasteel armor on his chest, where the golden skull-and-eagle emblem had been corroded beyond recognition.

Everyone checked their respective weapons and armor.

They discovered that the weapons and equipment of the squad members had been corroded to varying degrees by the blood sprayed by the xenomorphs.

The plasteel and ceramite were not heavily affected, but the exposed cables and mechanical components within the gaps of the power armor had been severely damaged.

"The blood of these xenomorph creatures is quite strange," Gult said in a deep voice.

He turned his head to look at Fu Qinghai and asked, "Qingshan, looking at your expression... have you encountered these xenomorph creatures before?"

Fu Qinghai shook his head and replied, "This is my first time seeing them too, Gult. My service time has been very short."

Gult nodded, not doubting him.

Fu Qinghai continued to stroke his beloved blade with a pained expression, and only after confirming it had no value for temporary repair did he reluctantly discard it.

Seeing this, Gult picked up a chainsword from beside the corpse of an Ultramarine and tossed it to Fu Qinghai.

Fu Qinghai caught it in one hand.

He turned it left and right to inspect it, started the chain-teeth to confirm the weapon was in good condition, and nodded at Gult.

The group continued to advance.

As a Techmarine, Fu Qinghai was well-versed in all types of weapons issued by the Imperium.

This was a Mk V Teeth-Eater Chainsword, featuring a wide, boxy blade with teeth extending from the front all the way to one-third of the back of the blade, finished in a dark blue paint scheme and manufactured by the Forge World of Conor.

Power weapons were more expensive to produce than chain weapons, and in principle, power weapons were more advanced, but that did not mean chain weapons were ineffective.

Fu Qinghai swung the chainsword with one hand to test its weight and balance.

A chainsword represented a completely different combat style than a power sword, and Fu Qinghai silently recalled the training content from the training cages in his mind.

In terms of single-strike power, due to the power field, power weapons were superior to chain weapons.

However, the strength of a chain weapon lay in the fact that the concept of a "single strike" barely existed for it.

When using a power sword, Fu Qinghai was accustomed to finding gaps in the enemy's defense and weak points in their armor to deliver a fatal blow.

But if he used a chainsword or chainaxe, he could simply hack directly into the front of the enemy's toughest chest plate and press down hard, letting the rapidly spinning, sharp teeth gnaw away at the plasteel plating bit by bit until the enemy's power armor was completely bitten through.

Or until his own teeth were worn flat.

Any Space Marine who took pride in their combat technique disliked using chain weapons; many of the White Scars, for instance, felt the things were too crude and simple.

But it could not be denied that a chainsword was also very effective.

If the Reincarnation World were an online game, a power weapon hitting an enemy would trigger a red "-100" critical hit text, while a chain weapon would deal continuous, rapid "-5-5-5-5" damage.

Back to the matter at hand.

Stinger Squad continued to traverse the interior of the transport ship.

Fu Qinghai noticed that, unlike when they had just performed their orbital drop, the members of Stinger Squad were now all wounded, and compared to the full complement of eight, only five remained.

Three had sacrificed themselves. Realizing this, Fu Qinghai moved forward silently, saying nothing more.

Even though they were considered high-end combatants in the galaxy, dying in battle was still a common occurrence for Space Marines.

At most, they would simply add a few more names of battle-brothers to the prayer session after training.

Fu Qinghai actually wanted to remind them to figure out what means the enemy had used to jam the teleportation device.

Throughout the journey, he had been trying hard to recall the content of official Warhammer 40K novels.

He vaguely remembered that there were several "Blackstone Fortresses" in the Gothic Sector, suspected ancient Necron technological constructs, which possessed the ability to activate null-fields.

But leaving aside the fact that this place was a hundred thousand miles away from the Gothic Sector in the Tempestus Segmentum, and the three transport ships were nowhere near as important as a Blackstone Fortress—not to mention that it took the Tech-priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus thousands of years in the future to barely crack some of the ancient technology within them, using it without truly understanding it—such black technology could never be mastered by three traitor transport ships.

Furthermore, if such a massive space fortress were in orbit, the Lunar-class cruisers would have certainly detected it.

Before a Tyranid hive fleet descended upon a planet, the distorted gravity and the vast hive mind would form a massive Warp shadow, which also seemed to have the effect of a null-field.

But leaving aside the fact that this barren, dead planet had no organic matter to attract the Tyranids, this null-field was clearly a trap the Word Bearers had long since prepared, waiting to be activated when the Ultramarines were ready to evacuate. The Tyranids had no reason to cooperate with Chaos Space Marines, nor would they communicate with any race, let alone coordinate.

Both possibilities known to Fu Qinghai were ruled out.

Other than that, Fu Qinghai could not think of anything else that could inhibit teleportation within a certain range.

Thinking of the xenomorphs that had appeared abruptly inside the Bloody Worm... there was only one possibility—Reincarnators!

Although he really wanted to find out what the enemy had relied on to achieve the teleportation block, Fu Qinghai knew better that, without knowing what other trump cards or conspiracies the traitors had, linking up with Vlahos to form a group was the safest method, rather than acting alone inside the transport ship.

Stinger Squad searched for traces of their teammates, followed the direction of the combat marks, passed through the internal passages of the transport ship, and arrived at the other side of the vessel.

The intense sounds of battle outside the transport ship drew the attention of Fu Qinghai and his team, and they realized they might be getting closer to their allies.

Just as the group scrambled out of the hatch, a massive black shadow came flying toward them.

"Take cover!"

Gult, who was leading the way, shouted and dove to the side.

Fu Qinghai hurriedly retreated back behind the hatch.

"Bang!"

With a deafening crash, the black shadow slammed hard against the outer hull of the transport ship, spitting out a mouthful of blood with a wet "pfft."

Gult looked closely and exclaimed:

"Officer Vlahos!"

Gult rushed forward to help up Set Vlahos, who was clad in massive Terminator Armor.

Fu Qinghai, standing behind the door, was stunned. What kind of strength could throw someone wearing heavy, massive Terminator Tactical Dreadnought Armour through the air like that?

He looked up abruptly and saw a broad, colossal figure slowly approaching in the distance.

Through the forest of thick, black spikes and the flesh and muscle tissue clinging to the gaps in the mechanical structure, Fu Qinghai could tell that this had once been a Leviathan Siege Dreadnought, a model even larger than a Contemptor Dreadnought.

The deep red paint with gold trim identified it as a Leviathan Siege Dreadnought belonging to the Word Bearers legion.

And now, this monster, consumed and twisted by Chaos, had a newer, more terrifying, and more fitting name—

Helbrute!

Vlahos was being supported by Gult; his helmet was gone, revealing a face covered in blood and grime. He struggled to stand, but like a paraplegic, his legs kicked uselessly, unable to support his weight.

Vlahos coughed with a wet, rattling sound, and blood mixed with foam bubbled from his mouth. Only then did Fu Qinghai see that his entire chest plate had caved in, the breastplate and sternum driven deep into his thoracic cavity.

One of his hands clawed repeatedly at Gult's armor, struggling to speak, his face turning a deep purple. Finally, he managed to choke out two words:

"Careful... pfft, plasma..."

In the distance, a blue light ignited at the muzzle of the Helbrute's massive right-arm cannon.

"Plasma Cannon, get down!"

Fu Qinghai roared at the top of his lungs.

Gult threw himself onto Vlahos, pinning him into a dirt crater. A beam of blue light grazed the back of his power pack, piercing through the hatch behind him and the hull of the transport ship, leaving behind a charred, smoking circular hole.

Two Ultramarines behind the hatch who hadn't been able to dodge in time were instantly vaporized, armor and all.

Fu Qinghai lunged out from the side of the charred hole, gripping his Chainsword as he charged forward.

It wasn't that he didn't fear death, but he knew he could not give the Helbrute a chance to fire a second shot.

Plasma weapons were incredibly powerful, their armor-piercing capabilities making them tank killers, but their flaws were equally obvious: the cooldown time was extremely long. Even a small Plasma Pistol required twenty to thirty seconds to cool down, and larger plasma weapons required even longer. If fired continuously without regard for cooling, the power cells would overheat and explode.

Fu Qinghai sprinted with all his might, crossing a trench and leaping over a crater, charging alone toward the massive Helbrute.

He felt like Don Quixote charging at a windmill on his own.

As he closed the distance, Fu Qinghai could clearly see the pilot inside the Helbrute's cockpit, which had mutated into a maw of sharp, jagged teeth. The pilot was a bald head wrapped in muscle and fascia, with bulging veins and distended flesh.

The pilot was grinning hideously as he watched him charge.

Fu Qinghai's mind was ice-cold. His sharp eyes fixed on the target, and as he sprinted, he analyzed the situation:

I'll perform a sliding tackle to enter his blind spot, then...

"Snap!"

A flash of silver light whipped through the air.

Fu Qinghai was sent flying through the air.

He landed in a dirt pit with a dull thud.

Dazed and disoriented, Fu Qinghai looked up to see the silver Power Whip, resembling an octopus tentacle, mounted on the Helbrute's left arm.

With a sharp whistle of displaced air, the second lash was already swinging toward him.

The first strike had cracked Fu Qinghai's helmet and left two deep gouges in the front armor plating.

Through the crack in his visor, Fu Qinghai could clearly see the silver whip, composed of interlocking iron rings, swinging down toward him. He saw the pilot's twisted, deformed face and the pale skulls impaled on the spikes of the Chaos Dreadnought.

The empty eye sockets of those skulls seemed to mock him, mocking his overestimation of his own abilities, mocking his audacity to challenge a Helbrute.

His visual calculations told him that his signature maneuver—the "donkey roll"—would not be enough to clear the range of this Power Whip.

It's over.

The price of impulsiveness.

That was Fu Qinghai's final thought. He made a pop-culture reference in his dying moments, determined to be a humorous ghost even in death.

Just then, a piercing, shrill howl that exceeded the limits of human hearing erupted. An invisible shockwave swept past, and Fu Qinghai felt his entire head buzz.

The Helbrute, which had been mid-swing with its Power Whip, suddenly froze.

While Fu Qinghai was still reeling, a significant force grabbed his shoulder pauldrons and hauled him upward.

Fu Qinghai snapped back to reality, scrambling to his feet and stumbling away as fast as he could.

The Helbrute regained its senses just as quickly, erupting in an enraged, inhuman shriek. The proliferated flesh tissue all over its body writhed and tightened, while the various skulls impaled on its spikes rattled with a sharp, metallic clatter.

Fu Qinghai turned his head to see that his savior was a tall female warrior clad in form-fitting bone-white armor, her fiery red crest fluttering like a blaze of flames.

It was her, that Howling Banshee of the Aeldari!

The Helbrute, consumed by fury, moved its massive bipedal mechanical chassis, striding forward to pursue Fu Qinghai as its silver, jointed power whips lashed out once more.

The warrior in bone-white armor leaped lightly into the air, delivering a precise front kick to Fu Qinghai's back that sent him flying forward, while she used the recoil to perform a graceful backflip.

Three power whips slammed down exactly where they had both been standing.

They didn't even graze a single hair on them.

Fu Qinghai was kicked into a trench, face-planting into the dirt and gravel, which was shoveled into his helmet through the cracks.

Fu Qinghai ripped off his sparking, fractured helmet and spat repeatedly, clearing the grit from his mouth.

Helmetless, Fu Qinghai stood up with his chainsword in hand. Not far away, the Howling Banshee was dancing around the Helbrute, her slender, elegant power scimitar occasionally carving a blood-spraying gash into the monster's flesh.

It's basically just scraping at it, Fu Qinghai thought to himself.

While it looked like the Helbrute was being run ragged by the Howling Banshee, as long as the pilot protected his exposed head, it was a pipe dream for an anti-infantry unit like the Banshee to carve through the hull of a Chaos Dreadnought with only a power blade and a shuriken pistol.

This Aeldari woman won't last long, Fu Qinghai concluded. The moment the Helbrute catches a single opening, she'll be dead without a burial ground.

Fu Qinghai looked at the cluster of silver, jointed power whips mounted on the Helbrute's left arm. There were four of them in total, flickering with the arcs of a ghostly blue power field. Their reach was massive; even with his agility, Fu Qinghai hadn't been able to dodge them, and he had nearly died under that very cluster of whips.

Lacking heavy weaponry, Fu Qinghai thought: Only a tank can fight a tank; only a mech can fight a mech!

As he pondered, the energy slot on the side of the massive plasma cannon on the Helbrute's right arm began to glow with a charging blue light.

Fu Qinghai didn't have time to overthink it; he gripped his chainsword and braced himself to charge back in.

Just then, a blast of gold-red, magma-like melta gas erupted from the Helbrute's rear flank.

"Aaaarrrggghhh--"

The Helbrute's pilot let out a gut-wrenching, inhuman scream; the flesh bonded to the Chaos machine seemed to be connected to his own blood and nerves.

It was the ancient warrior Hiller!

Fu Qinghai saw the massive, deep-blue Contemptor Dreadnought behind the Helbrute, slightly smaller than its target.

The Ultramarines Dreadnought, originally ordered to guard the exterior of the Abominable Worm, had arrived to reinforce them!

At this moment, the twin-linked melta cannon mounted on his left arm was pouring fire into the Helbrute.

The Howling Banshee quickly dodged to the side, though her bone-white armor had been singed by the splashing melta gas, causing it to warp and curl.

When the Contemptor Dreadnought attacked the Helbrute, it hadn't considered the Aeldari warrior at all. In the eyes of most Space Marines, there was no difference between a xenos and a traitor; if they could kill both at once, all the better.

The Helbrute's armor was melted through in large sections, the daemon-flesh shriveling and charring in the melta flames, while the steel plating warped and twisted, dripping molten iron.

The chassis mounted on the bipedal base spun violently, the massive frame turning to face the deep-blue Contemptor Dreadnought. A cluster of power whips had just been raised when they were seized by a massive, sharp power claw, and a small plasma cannon in the palm of that claw fired a beam of blue light.

"Qingshan!" Fu Qinghai heard Gult shout from behind him.

He quickly turned to look and saw a tall, bald Word Bearer clad in Chaos Terminator Armor leading a squad of Space Marines, charging toward the Stinger Squad that had surrounded Vlahos.

The battlefield situation was changing in the blink of an eye; there was no time for idle talk.

Fu Qinghai told the Howling Banshee beside him to "be careful" before sprinting toward the battlefield behind him.

Two Word Bearers wielding chainaxes moved to intercept Fu Qinghai.

Shedding the vulnerability he had shown against the Helbrute, Fu Qinghai leaped off the ground, gripping his chainsword with both hands and delivering a heavy, momentum-fueled overhead strike toward the lead Word Bearer.

"Clang!" Steel met steel, and sparks showered everywhere.

The chainsword was far heavier than the power scimitar. The Word Bearer rotated his axe handle, attempting to hook Fu Qinghai's teeth with the blade at the base of his chainaxe.

Fu Qinghai wouldn't let him have his way. Instead of retreating, he pushed forward, slamming his palm against the crossguard of his sword. The rapidly spinning teeth at the tip of the blade instantly neared the Word Bearer's helmet, forcing him to jerk his head back in a desperate retreat.

Fu Qinghai pulled his chainsword back, gripped it tight, and using the momentum of the withdrawal, spun 360 degrees, swinging with the full kinetic energy of his rotation to slash viciously at the Word Bearer's waist.

Scarlet blood sprayed out instantly as the teeth tore through, splattering chaotically in every direction.

At the same time, another buzzing chainaxe swung toward Fu Qinghai's shoulder.

Fu Qinghai tensed his shoulder muscles, prepared to take the hit just to finish off the first one, but suddenly, a dark shadow flashed through the air.

Out of the corner of his eye, Fu Qinghai saw what looked like a thin, black disc-shaped shuriken flash past.

The other Word Bearer's helmet flew into the sky, leaving only a spurting, bloody neck between his shoulders.

It was the Howling Banshee's shuriken pistol!

Fu Qinghai didn't need to look back to know who had helped him.

The Aeldari woman had chosen not to continue interfering in the battle between the two Dreadnoughts.

Because neither side would care if she lived or died.

Fu Qinghai nodded at the masked Aeldari girl, finished off the fallen Word Bearer with a final strike, and continued forward.

Ahead, the bald Word Bearer clad in Terminator Armor swung his double-bladed Power Axe, clashing with Gult. His massive Terminator Armor was cast with long iron spikes, each one impaling a severed head; some had already withered into skulls, while others still clung to rotting flesh.

It was clear that Gult was no match for the bald warrior. Every heavy strike from the bald man left Gult unable to parry, forcing him to retreat repeatedly.

This was normal. Not only were those capable of wearing Terminator Armor the elite of their Legion, but the Adamantium skeleton and increased electronic muscle fibers of the Terminator Armor itself provided sturdier defense and more explosive power than standard Power Armor.

The slightly sluggish speed of the Terminator Armor could be compensated for by the combat skills of the wearer.

This was a specialized Power Armor designed for melee combat.

Every strike from the bald Word Bearer was heavy as a mountain. Although he left himself wide open, Gult could only struggle to parry, not daring to counterattack. His counterattacks might not be fatal to the Terminator Armor, but if he failed to block any of the bald Word Bearer's strikes, it would be fatal for him.

Fu Qinghai and the Howling Banshee quickly cut into the battlefield. Sensing their arrival, the bald Word Bearer seemed to grow bored; he swatted the faltering Gult away with his axe and turned around.

His yellow, pupil-less, turbid eyes stared straight at Fu Qinghai, smiling cruelly:

"I've seen you in the surveillance, boy. A Techmarine charging at the front—you're quite brave."

"Moron," Fu Qinghai cursed directly and launched a slash toward the bald man.

The bald man lifted his arm nonchalantly, parrying Fu Qinghai's chainsword with his thick bracer, and continued:

"I've never slaughtered anyone from the White Scars before. You're lucky, boy. I've reserved a spot for you on my armor; your head can be mounted on my left shoulder pad as one of my glorious trophies."

He swung his axe at Fu Qinghai, who dodged it.

"It's your honor," the bald man said.

You think this level of trash talk can disrupt my focus? Fu Qinghai thought with disdain:

That's because you've never been matched against me in ranked games; otherwise, I'd roast you until your own parents wouldn't recognize you.

The Howling Banshee engaged with the other two Word Bearer warriors.

Meanwhile, Fu Qinghai faced the bald Chaos Terminator alone.

At this moment, he did not yet know that the man before him was the commander of these three transport ships, Klofa.

After a few exchanges, another heavy slash from Klofa was dodged by Fu Qinghai, the axe blade burying itself deep into the soil.

Fu Qinghai stepped on the axe head with his left foot, preventing the opponent from pulling out the Power Axe, and thrust his right-hand Chainsword in an unexpected strike toward the opponent's face.

The rapidly spinning teeth grazed the tip of the bald man's nose, drawing a trace of blood.

If the bald man hadn't released the handle in time to abandon his weapon and retreat, his entire face would have been sliced open by Fu Qinghai just now.

"Is that it?"

Fu Qinghai stood with one foot on the Power Axe, holding the Chainsword in one hand, and asked with disdain as he looked at the empty-handed bald man in front of him.

The bald man across from him wore a gloomy face, remaining silent. Then, he hunched his shoulders into a ramming stance and lunged forward violently.

Fu Qinghai did not meet him head-on; he kicked the Power Axe away and nimbly turned to dodge.

He let the heavy Terminator charge into empty air.

"Huh??"

Fu Qinghai opened his mouth in a display of exaggerated confusion. Neither of them wore helmets, and Fu Qinghai's face bore an extremely exaggerated expression of bewilderment, as if the bald man had just done something incredibly strange and absurd.

The bald man's face darkened further, his heavy breathing ragged, his expression so grim it seemed as if it might drip water.

He realized.

This White Scars warrior was deliberately toying with him.

The ultimate mockery often requires no flowery language; a question mark and a simple "Is that it?" are enough.

Well-versed in this logic, Fu Qinghai could feel that the bald man's composure was on the verge of exploding.

The bald man hesitated, standing in a standoff, unlike his initial calm demeanor.

After a few rounds, he was starting to feel afraid.

He dared not bend down to retrieve the Power Axe lying in the trench. He knew this White Scars warrior was fast, and the distance between them was short; he would surely take advantage of the split-second opening created by his bending to sever his head.

As they remained in a stalemate.

Who would have thought, the White Scars warrior opposite him suddenly performed an act that left him utterly baffled—

Fu Qinghai tossed his Chainsword aside, spread his empty hands, and looked at the bald man with a provocative expression.

What?

The bald Word Bearer's eyes widened instantly, flames of fury seemingly erupting from them.

Fu Qinghai's action made him feel deeply humiliated. He ground his sharp teeth together, and vicious words were squeezed out, syllable by syllable, from the gaps in his bleeding gums:

"You. Are. Seeking. Death!"

The bald Word Bearer let out a roar and lunged at Fu Qinghai regardless of the consequences.

This time, Fu Qinghai did not dodge, and the two suits of armor collided heavily.

Fu Qinghai was knocked back repeatedly by the Terminator, who was a full head taller than him, barely managing to hold his ground.

Their shoulder pads and chest plates pressed against each other, each pinning the other's arms, eyes wide with rage as they glared at one another.

Like two bulls locked in a struggle.

The electronic muscle fiber bundles inside the Power Armor began to contract.

However, the strength amplification provided by the Terminator Armor was significantly greater than that of standard Power Armor, and Fu Qinghai was gradually being suppressed by the bald warrior, forced to retreat step by step.

At this moment, the thick mechanical arm connected to the power pack on Fu Qinghai's back suddenly unfurled like a nimble serpent, rising up as its two viper-headed pincers aimed directly at the face of the Word Bearers warrior.

The pincers snapped open, and the pitch-black nozzle of a welding torch pointed straight at the bald Word Bearers warrior's eyes.

Fu Qinghai's cold gaze seemed to say: Idiot, did you think I gave up my weapon on purpose?

I always have one more weapon than you.

"Ah--"

The bald warrior stared at the mechanical arm, wanting to pull away, but he realized he was already locked in a tight grapple with Fu Qinghai; he widened his eyes and roared in fury.

A blinding white jet of flame erupted instantly, spraying directly into the bald warrior's wide-open eyes.

The jet, capable of melting metal, instantly liquefied the traitor's eyeballs and bored straight into the brain matter behind them.

Fu Qinghai felt the iron hands that had been clamping his arms like two iron vises gradually lose their strength.

Then, Fu Qinghai gave a gentle push, and the towering Terminator collapsed with a thunderous crash, like a high wall toppling over.

Fu Qinghai looked at the deep, charred holes left behind in the eye sockets of the Word Bearers warrior.

Done.

Fu Qinghai's chest heaved as he felt a surge of excitement in his heart.

I solo-killed a Chaos Terminator.

Throughout the process, there was skill and there was strategy; this powerful enemy had ultimately fallen at his feet.

With an excited smile, Fu Qinghai turned to look at his teammates.

Only to find them all staring into the distance in horror.

Fu Qinghai followed their gaze.

And saw it perfectly.

A deep red Helbrute was coiling its Power Whips.

The four Power Whips moved like the tentacles of a mechanical octopus.

It reached its tentacles toward a deep blue Contemptor Dreadnought that had fallen to the ground.

It forcibly ripped the mangled remains of the Dreadnought's pilot out from the sarcophagus cockpit.

A dripping humanoid object, consisting of nothing but a head and a spinal torso connected to various tubes and wires, was held high in the air by the Helbrute.