Phelps did not pursue the scattered fleeing soldiers; instead, he went straight to the hangar deep within the position, towards the heavy machinery that was still being slowly transformed by the Rust Plague.
His palm rested on the shoulder armor of a Kastelan Battle Robot, and the power of plague surged into his palm.
Dark brown rust covered the entire robot like a tide.
Beneath the metal armor bulged countless fleshy pustules, twisted bone spurs grew at the joints, and the once cold optical lenses turned into cloudy, yellowish eyeballs. The Machine Spirit had completely become a slave to the plague.
The six combat robots completed their corruption in succession.
Thick, plague-infected fluid seeped from the barrels of the three Onager Walker ' cannons, and the ammunition magazines of the Ironstrider Ballistarius were teeming with pustules.
The tracks of ten Leman Russ Russ were entangled in flesh and blood, and when they started, they spewed out a gray mist carrying plague spores.
Hundreds of out-of-control Servitor and Combat Servitor also completed their transformation, gaining new life amidst rusted mechanical prosthetics and rotting flesh.
At the same time, a large number of Plague Zombie rose from the ground and staggered around the plague machines, their numbers quickly exceeding one thousand.
When the two naval companies at the main gate finally cleared out the feinting zombies, they realized something was wrong and rushed to provide support.
What was left for them was this hellish scene.
Two thousand friendly soldiers were killed without a trace; the ground was littered with broken flesh and rusted metal.
Twenty-two Plague Marine stood in the center of the position, with the Plague Mechanical Legion arrayed behind them and countless, ever-growing, Plague Zombie in front of them.
Including the two companies that arrived, the Imperial Navy deployed nearly eight thousand men here.
But everyone believed that they had no chance of winning.
After all, the opponent was a legendary warrior...
"Fire!!"
The naval captain leading the team shouted orders, and all weapons simultaneously unleashed flames, bombs, lasers, and shells rained down on the plague array opposite them.
But they were met with even fiercer firepower in response.
The three Plague Ironstrider Ballistarius fired first, but instead of conventional armor-piercing shells, they fired corrosive projectiles coated in plague venom.
The warheads exploded in front of the Imperium lines, scattering poisonous mist and metal fragments everywhere; anything that touched them would rot and cause infection.
The Plague Onager Walker unleashed a barrage of multiple composite weapons, their distorted beams carrying corrosive energy that easily burned through the soldiers' Flak Armour.
Six Kastelan Battle Robot advanced with heavy steps, unleashing a barrage of heavy Heavy Bolter from their shoulders, while the horde of Plague Zombie surged toward the Imperium front like a black tide beneath their feet.
The Plague Zombie charged ahead, absorbing bullets and artillery fire with their rotting bodies. One wave fell, and another surged in, with no end in sight.
Within the gaps of the zombie horde, the twenty-two Death Guard, like twenty-two sharp knives, steadily advanced.
The moment the two sides clashed, the massacre began again.
The plague spores spread wildly during close combat, and various symptoms quickly overwhelmed the soldiers' will and bodies.
Some fighters would fall down mid-fight and never get up again, while others would swing their bayonets with all their might but still not be able to touch the opponent's Power Armour.
Each swing of the Death Guard can take several lives.
They rampaged through the 8,000-strong enemy lines as if they were nothing.
The front line collapsed in less than three minutes from initial contact.
Including the previous mixed forces and three Imperium support units, totaling nearly 8,000 men, the entire process from the initial engagement to their complete rout took no more than five minutes.
The ground was littered with corpses, and wails of agony filled the air.
Phelps stepped over the thick layer of corpses and walked to a surveillance camera in the corner of the position that was still barely working.
He raised his head, his cloudy, yellowish eyes staring directly at the camera through his rusty mask.
There was no anger, no excitement in his eyes, only an indifference as if looking at a dead object, and a cruelty as if a cat were playing with a mouse.
It was as if the voice was speaking through a screen to everyone on the bridge—behave yourself, don't wander off, death is drawing ever closer.
The next second, the camera was completely corroded by the Rust Plague, the screen suddenly went black, and the signal was completely cut off.
The bridge of the Gemstone was deathly silent.
Most of the officers stood frozen in place, some pale-faced, their hands trembling slightly as they held the documents.
Chaos Space Marine are not unheard of.
But before that, they had only encountered scattered, unorganized traitors.
At most, their individual combat strength is slightly stronger, but they can always be dealt with by the ship's garrison and heavy firepower.
But this time is different.
Twenty-two organized and tactically trained Death Guard, afflicted with a special plague, silently pierced the heart of the warship like a venomous dagger.
They can corrupt machinery, create zombies, excel at surprise attacks, prefer melee combat, and grow stronger every minute.
If we don't come up with a countermeasure, they'll slowly devour the entire warship.
Dominic stood with his hands behind his back in front of the main screen, his military uniform impeccable, his face stern, revealing little emotion.
His slightly clenched jawline betrayed the turmoil in his heart.
Three teams, eight thousand men, wiped out in five minutes.
The cost was heavy, but it was not entirely without value.
From the surveillance footage he just saw, he had at least figured out some of the enemy's weaknesses.
"The enemy excels at stealthy raids, doesn't primarily engage in ranged combat, and extremely prefers close-quarters battles."
His voice was steady and exceptionally clear in the deathly silent bridge.
" The Rust Plague can quickly paralyze mechanical units and corrupt them, causing them to turn against the enemy."
"After close combat, the plague can spread rapidly through the air and on contact, weakening soldiers' combat effectiveness in a short period of time."
He paused, his gaze fixed on the location of the Machine God on the ship's structural diagram, and said in a resolute tone:
Their target must be the Machine God.
Only by taking down the Machine God and corrupting the warship's core Machine Spirit can we completely control the entire Retribution-class Battleship and turn the Gemstone into a new plague fortress.
This must be the Death Guard ' only option, and his ultimate goal.
"Pass down the order."
Dominic turned around and issued a series of clear and concise orders:
"First, all defensive forces should retreat to the Machine God, focusing on defending the core area and abandoning unnecessary lower-level sections."
"Secondly, Adeptus Mechanicus Skitarii units should temporarily avoid close-quarters combat, relying on fortifications to provide fire support, and should not engage in close combat with Plague Marine."
"Third, each combat unit must be assigned at least one Ministorum Priest, with priority given to protecting the safety of the accompanying chaplains."
The power of faith is the most effective means of suppressing the plague; we must not allow the priest to fail.
The order was quickly relayed, and the entire warship's defensive forces began to be redeployed.
Everyone knows that the real battle is just beginning.