Bombardment

"Open a Psyker's collar?" Qin Mo smiled as he stared at Kalon. "Have you thought this through?"

Psykers were extremely dangerous.

An untrained person who had awakened Psychic Power was like a ticking time bomb.

If they merely went berserk and caused destruction, that was one thing. The worst part was that a Psyker's soul projection was incredibly conspicuous in the Warp, making them easy targets for those four evil entities—tools through which they could extend their claws into the material universe.

So when he heard that Kalon had decided to open the Psychic Suppressor Collar if necessary, even Qin Mo thought he was insane.

"Rest assured, I know a Psyker's weaknesses." Kalon pointed at the scepter in his hand. "Once I unleash your destructive power, I will make sure you cannot survive. You will either die at the hands of the rebels, or I will kill you."

Qin Mo looked at the scepter.

It was a golden scepter, its top adorned with the Imperium's Double-headed Eagle.

It was not the old man's walking stick, but a weapon.

"From now on, you will not take part in building the fortifications. Rest and conserve your strength." Kalon gave the order, then turned and left.

Burl glanced at Qin Mo and followed Kalon away.

Qin Mo rolled his eyes at the two of them, then lowered his head and drew in his journal.

He was engaging in one of his only two forms of entertainment.

The first was reviewing his old records.

The second was drawing weapon blueprints.

Even Qin Mo found it strange. He had no idea why he had suddenly become so interested in scientific research, and it seemed as though something unseen was guiding him.

He clearly could not even understand calculus, yet whenever he wanted to study something, every theory related to it immediately surfaced in his mind.

Thus, it was both a process of research and a process of learning.

"Maybe Tzeentch blessed me," Qin Mo muttered.

He had said such things to himself more than once.

It was only after he had casually blurted out the true name of one of the Four Gods of the Warp for the first time that Qin Mo remembered this was the Warhammer Universe. Saying such names outright made corruption all too easy, especially since he was a Psyker.

Perhaps it was because Tzeentch was translated from "Tzeentch," or perhaps there was some other reason. In any case, nothing had happened, so Qin Mo stopped worrying about it so much.

He was absorbed in designing a protective device called a gravity shield.

The wearer of the shield could become immune to physical ranged attacks, because the shield generated a gravitational field. The wearer at the center would remain unaffected, while intense gravity filled a two-meter radius around him.

Any shells or bullets entering the gravitational field would be crushed to pieces.

The protective device had already been fully designed; it only needed to be manufactured and assembled.

That was not difficult for Qin Mo. He had already thought of a hundred ways to make the thing.

"Perfect." Qin Mo tucked the journal into his pocket with satisfaction, then lowered his head to look at the puddle at the bottom of the trench.

Strictly speaking, the puddle was not water, but coolant used for Stubbers. Some clumsy fool had apparently let it spill out.

Qin Mo's face was clearly reflected in the puddle. Admiring his reflection, he could not help sighing. "Qin Mo, you really are a genius."

As Qin Mo basked in his sense of accomplishment, he suddenly noticed an extremely tiny object in the puddle.

Strangely, it was gradually growing larger.

"What is that?" Curious, Qin Mo reached out to touch it. The moment he did, it trembled, making him realize that it was not in the puddle at all, but reflected by the liquid within it.

"..."

Qin Mo raised his head and looked upward.

Boom!

An explosion erupted in the trench. Countless metal fragments sprayed in every direction, followed by thunderous roaring that echoed across the entire position.

All the soldiers and prisoners jumped to their feet in terror and looked toward the source of the explosion.

It was the trench at the very front of the position.

Everyone stood there in a daze, completely unable to react.

Until the second explosion struck the very center of the position.

Ten soldiers sitting together outside the trench were near the blast's center. A blinding flash instantly swallowed them, then a fragment came spinning out of the smoke and landed at Burl's feet.

"Incoming bombardment!" Burl roared, the first to leap into the trench and flatten himself against the ground.

Kalon stood beside Burl. Rather than taking cover, he struck the ground with his scepter, and violet energy enveloped both him and Burl.

The first two shells had clearly been ranging shots. Once the calibration was complete, countless shells fell like rain, explosions and screams erupting everywhere across the position.

The bombardment had come too suddenly and made too little sense. Neither the soldiers nor the prisoners had expected it, so they had been completely lax. When the shells began falling, they did not even have time to hide in the fortifications.

Of course, even if they had tried, it would have been useless. The fortifications were not yet complete, and they broke apart under the bombardment faster than the soldiers' flesh.

As the Regimental Commander, Burl cowered beneath Kalon's protection, watching in horror as his soldiers were blasted apart all around him.

"How could this place possibly come under bombardment?!" Burl demanded in shock.

This position was located at the entrance leading to the Underhive, while the Planetary Defense Force had entered the lower levels to fight. In other words, this position was effectively far behind the front lines.

For the rebels known as the Cult of Evolution to threaten this place, they would first have to defeat the Planetary Defense Force's battle line.

Could the line already have been breached?

The thought sent a chill through Burl.

Whether the rebels had punched through the line or sent a small force around to launch a surprise attack, more than half the soldiers at the position had already been lost to the bombardment.

"We have to withdraw!" Burl could not bear watching any longer. He shouted at Kalon, "Use your Psychic Power! Use it to issue the retreat order!"

"No. Now is not the time to retreat." Kalon slowly shook his head, his deep pupils fixed on the front of the position.

A large number of Rebel soldiers had already followed in the wake of the bombardment and launched an assault on the position.

If they gave the retreat order now, the entire infantry regiment would collapse. And in a Hive City, a scattered force would only be slaughtered to the last man by Underhive rebels familiar with the terrain.

"That Psyker, that Psyker!" Burl suddenly remembered Qin Mo. "Find him, open his collar, and have him hold them off first!"

"That is the only option." Kalon nodded in agreement, closed his eyes, and used Psychic Power to search the position for Qin Mo.

Before Kalon could find Qin Mo, Qin Mo, who had taken a shell head-on, had not been blown to pieces—but his body was already riddled with horrifying shrapnel wounds.

If someone had looked at where Qin Mo lay with thermal imaging at that moment, they would have seen large amounts of heat generated by the explosions gathering around him and flowing into his body.

Qin Mo's flesh gradually healed, but his brain, which had suffered a powerful shock, had yet to fully recover. Half-asleep and half-awake, he saw an illusion.