Chapter 43: The Mysterious Person

BANG—!

The heavy metal doors were smashed open, and a giant reeking of thick blood burst into Locken's temporary command post.

He entered through the doorway with a composed stride, his black goggles reflecting a sense of ferocity. Blood dripped intermittently from the war axe gripped tightly in his right hand; he was searching for a target.

Then, appearing before his eyes were two combat robots, fully prepared.

Rat-tat-tat-tat—!

Before he could react, a torrential rain of bullets enveloped him. Scorching metal hammered against his armor, battering him so severely that he became dizzy and unsteady on his feet.

"Damn it!"

The World Eater let out an angry roar and steadied his footing. Although the bullets continued to impact him, they were not enough to pierce his vital organs.

"I will tear—"

Just as he prepared to launch a desperate charge, spurred by the Butcher's Nails, intending to use the serrated edges of his war axe to shred that damned Tech-priest into mincemeat, several high-heat cutting lasers swept in from both sides and above the doorway.

Caught off guard, the World Eater was struck by the lasers across his shoulder and leg, causing him to collapse instantly—one of his arms and a thigh were cleanly severed.

As he continued to struggle, the two combat robots stepped forward, their smoking muzzles pressed against his chest and head.

"No—"

In the next second, his roar was drowned out by the thunderous boom of gunfire.

"Whew..."

Watching the massive creature reduced to nothing more than a twitching heap on the floor, Locken let out a long breath and wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.

Fortunately, out of concern for his personal safety, he had secretly deployed a large number of defensive weapons in his nest, and they had finally played a critical role.

It was also a stroke of luck that this fellow was too arrogant; had he simply stood outside the door and sprayed the room, Locken felt he would most likely be meeting the Omnissiah by now.

"What's the situation?"

Having dealt with the immediate enemy, Locken hid for a while longer. After confirming no one else was coming for him, he finally crawled out from under his chair.

However, just as he prepared to go up and check on the "dead" Space Marine, the fellow suddenly lunged upward, covered in dripping blood, and lunged his arm toward the Tech-priest.

"Hngh—aaaaaaaagh!"

Locken immediately shrieked like a Grot whose toe had been stepped on. But before he could be grabbed, a heavy hammer struck like a meteor, slamming violently into the back of the blood-soaked Chaos Space Marine's head.

The opponent staggered and fell to the ground, but before he could crawl up, another hammer blow landed.

CLANG—!

This blow smashed half of the opponent's head directly into the floor. Then, the combat robots stepped up and began firing wildly, only stopping once they had nearly shredded the opponent's body to pieces.

Locken stared up blankly, only to see a burly man wearing a silver-gray apron and a tall chef's hat.

"He's dead, right?"

The burly man rubbed his bald head and wiped away the splattered blood. A scar ran from his ear to his chin across his rugged, square face. Under the lights, his thick neck appeared exceptionally red and oily, and his massive arms looked almost as formidable as those of a Space Marine.

Seeing his attire, for some reason, only two words came to Locken's mind.

Chef.

"Where's your kitchen? Or the place where you keep the food," the burly man asked, staring at Locken with a very "honest" tone.

Considering the blood-dripping heavy hammer in his hand, Locken felt he had no reason to refuse. He pointed toward the door and said

"Go out the door, turn right for five hundred meters, you'll see a staircase. Go up, turn left for a hundred meters, and you're there."

"Thanks! My name's Rozim Primki. I snuck in here in a shuttle just to restock some supplies. Don't go blabbing about me."

"Oh... Oh, okay!"

Watching the man swagger away, Locken felt as if he were in a dream. It wasn't until the alarm pierced his eardrums that he remembered he was in the middle of an invasion.

He rushed to the console and interfaced his mechanical appendages with the orbital station's monitoring system.

The result shocked him. In the brief time he had been occupied by that giant, the traitors had already closed in on the starport.

They had found a temporary maintenance passage. Locken could control most areas, but this specific sector had not been integrated into the orbital station's monitoring system because it was rarely used.

Now, he had few means left at his disposal. A defense force of over a thousand men had gathered at the starport, but whether they would be sufficient remained unknown.

Locken took a pessimistic view.

He was already considering whether to initiate the orbital station's self-destruct sequence. As the highest representative of the Adeptus Mechanicus on the station, he possessed the authority.

If he did this, he would be forcing tens of thousands of people to perish alongside a few traitors. He certainly had a way to escape, but once he escaped, he would likely be unable to return to the planet.

After all, someone had to take the fall for such a massive loss.

Judging by the situation, that idiot Sola was likely already dead; who else would be the perfect scapegoat?

Locken was caught in a dilemma. At this moment, he would truly trade anything for a squad of Protectorate Guards or loyal Astartes—anything—

Beep, beep, beep—

The communicator suddenly rang. Locken froze for a moment before realizing the signal was not coming from the ground, but from the void.

He pressed the connect button.

"H-hello?"

"Hello, Imperial Citizen. I am Soshian, Chapter Master of the Star Knights Chapter. We have received a distress signal."

Locken immediately grabbed the gear emblem on his chest and gave it a fervent kiss.

Praise be to the Omnissiah!

"Yes, yes! I am Priest Locken, the Tech-priest of the Mar'Kand II Orbital Defense Station! The signal was indeed sent by me! We are under attack by a group of Imperial traitors!"

"We have confirmed the identity of the attackers. How far have they progressed? What is their number?"

"My Lord, there are nine traitors in total. I have already dealt with one. Their target is a Sword-class frigate that has just finished maintenance, the *Glory Dagger*. They have breached the central control room and are heading toward the starport."

"Understood. We will proceed directly to the starport. I expect your cooperation in eliminating these traitors once we arrive."

"The starport has assembled a portion of the defense force, ready for your command, my Lord."

"Very well. I need a structural map of the starport, and I want you to arrange the garrison for the following deployment..."

"At your command, my Lord."

At this moment, Locken suddenly remembered that the name "Star Knights Chapter" sounded somewhat familiar.

"My Lord, are you leading your fleet here for a shipment of equipment and supplies?"

He finally remembered. His mentor had once made a promise to the Star Knights Chapter to provide two hundred years of equipment supplies. The final shipment should have departed long ago, but the other party had requested a delay in delivery.

Locken had found it strange at the time, and the surface authorities had also been demanding the shipment be sent to clear valuable warehouse space, but since it was an Astartes request, he had complied.

He hadn't expected that this unintentional act would ultimately become the key to his salvation.

"That is correct. Are the supplies still secure?"

"Extremely secure! I have placed them in the safest warehouse; they have not suffered any looting or damage."

"I am very grateful for your actions, Priest Locken."

Knowing the supplies were safe, the voice on the other end softened slightly.

"Our Thunderhawks will arrive at the starport shortly. Arrange your defenses as follows..."

(This chapter is specially provided for Boss Luo...)

(End of Chapter)