"In a sense, the entire Zerg swarm is our child."
Rena looked up and met Lynn's eyes.
Lynn's eyes were sincere and warm, like a ray of light.
She thought about it carefully, and it seemed to be true.
From the initial few dozen stolen Hormagaunt to the current massive swarm.
Lynn was involved in every step.
Lynn understood the characteristics of each swarm unit and participated in the design of every genetic optimization.
Together, he and she watched the swarm grow and expand little by little.
The entire swarm was indeed the result of their collective efforts.
Rena nodded, and a smile finally returned to her face.
"You're right, Lynn, the Swarm is our child."
Lynn breathed a sigh of relief and gently kissed her forehead.
He silently said to himself, "Rena, don't worry."
When the system's favorability rating surpasses 100, perhaps a miracle will truly happen.
He had a premonition that the mysterious system would definitely not be satisfied with just letting him conquer a few targets.
When the favorability rating reaches its peak, there will definitely be some kind of reward that breaks through the limit.
Perhaps by then, his and Rena's regrets will be truly made up for.
The two embraced again, gazing silently at the distant starry sky.
This time, there was no unease or sadness, only the warmth of leaning on each other and the anticipation for the future.
The starlight shone upon them, as if bestowing a blessing upon this couple who transcended species.
Meanwhile, on the distant planet Dorito, in the Cauldron City.
It was also the main camp of the Deffskull Clan.
This place was originally a large human warehouse, but after being occupied by the Orks, it was transformed into the palace of Ragnar.
The warehouse walls were reinforced with thick steel plates, covered with green graffiti and the symbol of the Deffskull Clan, and a large pot with two bones on it, steaming hot.
In the center of the warehouse, the iconic throne cauldron has reappeared, placed on the highest step.
A large pot was simmering with steaming hot stew, the rich aroma of meat and spices filling the entire camp.
This attracted frequent sidelong glances and drooling from the surrounding Ork Boyz.
Ragnar sat on the throne on the edge of the cauldron, holding a huge ladle in his hand as always.
Every now and then, he would scoop up a spoonful of the stew and stuff it into his mouth, enjoying it immensely.
He had returned to his original physique, his belly had become round again, and his huge mouth on top was opening and closing, constantly swallowing mung bean curd.
After several days of rest and indulging in food and drink, he has recovered to about 80% of his original condition, and the Waaagh Field around him is becoming increasingly dense.
A dozen or so Warboss stood around him, each one burly and muscular, carrying all sorts of weapons.
But they all bowed their heads, looking at Ragnar respectfully, not daring to be negligent in the slightest.
A figure slowly walked in at the entrance of the camp.
It's because of the Toothy.
Unlike the other timid, hunched-over Gretchin, Toothy walked with his head held high and chest out, taking steady steps toward Ragnar.
He was much taller than the average Gretchin, almost as tall as an ordinary Ork Boyz.
He was wearing a set of leather armor, which was somewhat worn but clean.
He was not holding any weapons; his hands hung naturally at his sides.
Her most iconic feature remains the exquisite tooth necklace around her neck.
His gaze was calm yet sharp as he swept over the Warboss around him without the slightest fear.
All the Warboss noticed Toothy and cast curious and disdainful glances at him.
"Is this the Gretchin who came up with the idea to eliminate the walkers?"
"He doesn't look anything special, just as skinny as the other Gretchin."
"A Gretchin him dares to ask the boss to personally meet him? What a joke."
"Just wait and see, the boss is only interested for a short time. In a few days, he'll throw him to feed Squig."
Whispers rose from the crowd, filled with contempt and mockery.
In a society dominated by Orks, those Gretchin are the lowest of the low, objects of abuse and bullying by everyone at will.
The fact that a Gretchin him could be personally summoned by the boss made these Warboss very resentful.
Ignoring the mockery around him, Toothy walked straight to the throne cauldron.
He stopped, bowed slightly, and gave Ragnar a proper bow:
" Toothy, greetings, boss."
His voice was loud and clear, and he showed no stage fright.
The entire camp fell silent instantly.
All the Warboss were stunned, their faces showing disbelief.
In all their years, they had never seen a Gretchin dare to speak to their boss like that.
In the world of Orks, the word "politeness" simply doesn't exist.
When faced with an existence stronger than themselves, the Orks either kneel down in fear and beg for mercy, or defiantly challenge it.
They had never seen anyone like Toothy before, so composed and dignified, and who even performed a strange form of etiquette.
Ragnar was also stunned, the large ladle in his hand stopped in mid-air.
He squinted, looking Toothy up and down with a look of inquiry in his eyes.
After a moment, he spoke, his voice as loud as thunder:
"Hey kid, who taught you that move you just did?"
Have you had any contact with those shrimps?
The surrounding Warboss immediately stirred, raising their weapons and pointing them at Toothy.
"The boss is right! He's definitely in cahoots with the shrimp!"
"Kill him! That traitor!"
"Throw him into a big pot and stew him!"
Toothy remained calm and composed, showing no sign of panic.
He raised his head, looked at Ragnar, and answered neither humbly nor arrogantly:
"Reporting to the boss, I have never had any private contact with Shrimp. I only encountered Shrimp on the battlefield."
"As for my knowledge of shrimp, and that etiquette I just learned, I learned those myself."
Toothy pointed to his head.
"I like to observe. Whenever I fight with shrimp, I hide in the back and observe their behavior to learn their tactics."
"I've also collected a lot of books and documents discarded by shrimp. Although I can't understand most of them, I can still learn a lot from them."
"I believe that to defeat an enemy, you must first understand the enemy."
"Know their strengths and weaknesses, know how they fight and how they think."
"Only in this way can we know ourselves and our enemy, and win every battle."
"Know yourself and know your enemy, and you will win every battle?" Ragnar repeated the phrase, his eyes instantly lighting up.
He put down his spoon, slapped his thigh, and burst into laughter:
"Well said, absolutely right!"
"To defeat the enemy, you must first understand the enemy!"
He turned his head and looked at the bewildered Warboss around him. The smile on his face vanished instantly, replaced by a look of disgust.
"Look at you all! You're all big and burly, but your brains are as stupid as Squig's!"
"You've fought wars your whole life, all you know is charging in and hacking and slashing! You don't even understand such a simple principle!"
"And look at Ya Toothy, even though she's Gretchin, her brain works better than all of yours combined!"
The Warboss were Ragnar, and they all lowered their heads, not daring to utter a word.
They really didn't understand what Toothy meant.
The idea of "know yourself and know your enemy, and you will win every battle" is misunderstood. In their view, war is simply a matter of who has the strongest fist and the most men.
All that fancy stuff is pointless.
But Ragnar had already said so, they dared not refute it.