Warhammer: I live under the watchful eyes of the gods

Chapter 143 Peeling an Onion with a Knife

The moment Bonaparte the Unclean reacted, the area in Karl's "vision" was instantly disconnected as if the network had been disconnected.

He knew that the pile of strange corpses was competing with him for control of the swamp.

How can you bear this.

For a moment, he even had an urge to use the torpedoes prepared in advance to treat this literal big man severely.

After all, with such a stinky mess, no one really wants to fight it?

Besides, just judging from the opponent's aura, this big guy is not something that the surrounding Sun Auxiliary Army can deal with without the help of vehicles.

But after the momentum passed, Carl didn't react.

Isn't this the big gift package for "giving experience" here?

Since the swamp controlled by Karl can "expand" by absorbing corpses.

It would be a pity that such a large pile of "fresh corpses" would be blown up directly.

After all, in this wave, Karl needs to make a big move before the "incident" on Horus' side.

A big move that Tzeentch didn't expect.

The idea is made, and now it's time to act.

Without any words, as long as Karl makes a tactic in his mind, the entire phalanx around it will move automatically.

This is not only a kind of tacit understanding, but also a kind of trust, and it is also a group of loyalty.

And the "trench digging technique" that was not used before also had a miraculous effect here.

However, instead of leaving tunnels on the surface of the swamp, those tunnels were buried deep underground.

And soon, just a few minutes after Karl had just prepared the trap, there were shocking shocks caused by trampling on the swamp floor.

In the thick yellow fog, a real "corpse mountain" gradually emerged.

A large number of rotting corpses are strangely "glued" together through unknown green slime.

Every time that huge figure took a step, several twisted limbs that were still twitching after landing would be shaken off from its body.

And the rotten smell emanating from his body has completely overwhelmed the stench from the original plague swamp.

It was a "smell of decay" that went straight to the depths of the soul.

All things are reborn in withering, so as to obtain that kind of morbid eternity.

From time to time, he waved the two giant axes in his hand, as if he was laughing at the little guys in the hands of the Viletaris stormtroopers.

But Bonaparte never imagined that while he was showing off his might, he had already become the prey in Karl's eyes.

Just as he was steadily moving towards the disgusting emperor's breath, he suddenly missed his foot.

(This is impossible!)

This was Bonaparte's first reaction when stepping into the trap Karl had prepared in advance.

(How could someone control the Plague Swamp?)

Yes, he felt something was wrong the moment he stepped on it.

That swamp was too "brittle".

It felt like—a big hole was dug under the swamp.

Seeing the "mountain of corpses" step into the air, Karl, who was hiding in the distance and was in charge of seducing attention, moved.

At this moment, Karl, who had put on 2.4-level violent power and 2.1-level perfect luck at the same time, rushed towards the mountain of corpses in the distance with a newly borrowed power ax as if the god of war had descended.

Just kidding, those chunks of meat can't be recovered with a bolt gun.

It is better to leave the delicate work of cutting it into pieces by a thousand knives to professionals.

At this moment, Karl, who was running on his own territory, was glad that he took off his armor early.

Yes, wearing that would only slow him down.

Gently press the switch on the handle of the knife, accompanied by a sizzle of electric current, a thin layer of disintegration is formed on the edge of the battle axe.

As for the biological lock, that kind of thing didn't exist for him at all.

In terms of technical seniority, to be modest, he must be the "grandfathers" of the group of people who made this lock.

Stepping on the solid ground under his feet, he rushed to the front of the mountain of corpses within tens of seconds.

Taking a closer look, he finally realized.

Hey, look at this is not a great unclean.

Although it only looks similar in appearance, there seems to be nothing else in the Nurgle camp that looks like this.

If the deity of the Great Unclean One came over, then Karl might have to consider whether to send him away with a torpedo.

But if it's just a clone, or a puppet piled up with a rotting corpse, then things will be much simpler.

Watching Bonaparte with a huge foot stuck in the "sunken swamp".

Carl gave a "good" smile.

That is the smile of capitalists seeing surplus value.

There is no nonsense, the fight is to take advantage of your illness to kill you.

Holding up the power ax in his hand, he slashed at the other leg of the unclean man.

Of course, it's more about "slicing" than "slashing".

After all, with such a thick thigh, even if Carl counted the handle of the knife, it would not be enough to cut it.

The only feasible way is to remove the big meaty rice dumpling from the outside to the inside piece by piece, just like the "shaving" that the great unclean person did to himself before.

One step to avoid the piece of meat that fell from the Great Unclean One.

He could clearly see a layer of burnt skin on the edge of the meat.

That is a by-product of the heat escaping from the decomposition site.

Knife after knife.

Every time Karl swung the power ax in his hand, a large piece of flesh with all kinds of twisted impurities would be severed from the unclean person.

At this moment, he seemed to be back on the stairs above the sewage circulation system in the hive.

It's the same kind of knife-to-meat feeling.

It's just that this time, there is neither the threat of snipers overhead nor the limitations of the body's own functions.

In a sense, the Great Unclean One is a punching bag that Karl can chop off.

It's a pity that with the bonus of dismantling the position, the sense of obstruction that the blade cuts across the body is obviously much less.

But that doesn't matter either, after all Carl isn't some kind of psycho either.

The reason why he chose this method instead of sending a big torpedo directly from the sky is just to expand the territory.

Otherwise, there are so many things going on there, who will fight you single-handedly if you can fight in groups?

Easily dodged a right uppercut from the Unclean Man, and seeing the opening that he turned around to reveal after his punch was empty, Karl swung down again fiercely.

Accompanied by the sound of "sizzling, sizzling" roasting meat, another piece of meat mixed with indescribable objects peeled off from the Great Unclean Person.

And at this moment, Bonaparte finally pulled out his left leg from the deep pit.

Bonaparte was very angry at this moment.

But this anger has no effect.

The clumsy body swung the two huge axes in his hands around, but he couldn't hit Karl who was scurrying up and down like fleas at all.

However, the "corruption" originally used for melee combat was of no use to Karl.

Looking at the cut pieces of meat, Bonaparte could only be helplessly furious at this moment.

Even if it's just a clone, not all bugs can come up and cut twice!
From Karl's uniform, he could barely recognize that the person in front of him was just an ordinary Sun Auxiliary.

Why?
It doesn't matter if Kabanda Signus can hit me.

Carlos, who can't argue in the debate, is fine.

It's okay to be surrounded by a group of Astartes and beat them violently with various heavy weapons.

But a single soldier of the Sun Auxiliary Army is still a mortal without armor, why should he ride on my face and shit?

Oh wait, he's not wearing armor? ? ?

In an instant, Bonaparte's already shrunken brain froze.

It's weird.

That is a mortal who does not wear armor, but can still jump alive in the plague fog;

That is a mortal who has not been blessed, but can walk on the plague swamp;
That was a mortal who didn't carry any heavy firepower, but dared to rush up and fight me with just a power axe.

You call this guy a "mortal"? ? ?
What an interstellar joke, if the solar auxiliary army can have this level of physical and mental resistance.

Then there is no need for interstellar warriors, and hundreds of millions of solar auxiliary troops are afraid to lose it.

Not to mention the Plague Swamp, even the Plague Garden can be used by you.

None of the available analysis has answered the core question, who is this guy who is literally "slicing" himself?

And at this moment, a familiar pain came from Bonaparte's buttocks.

The pain was exactly the same as Kabanda Signus's buttocks with the poisonous whip.

After calming down, Bonaparte finally recognized what kind of "monster" was in front of him.

Khorne + Slaanesh + Nurgle.

Hit the TM with a hammer, slip away.

Boss Nurgle, you can see, it's not that he doesn't work hard, it's that this guy is too perverted.

Run as you say.

I saw the clone of the Great Unclean Person in front of Karl's eyes, falling apart in an instant.

Tons of body parts were strewn all over the place.

Karl could clearly feel that something indescribable was "running away with a bucket" along the surrounding swamp just now.

But it's a pity that he really has nothing to do with this running ghost.

So, in line with the idea of ​​letting him run back and give another wave of gift packages next time, Karl didn't waste another wave of hope in pursuit.

After all, if you want to completely wipe out the great unclean person hiding in the plague swamp.

First of all, it is necessary to seize control of the entire plague swamp.

That is not something that hundreds of thousands of power of hope can handle. Even if Karl is "squeezed dry", so much power of hope cannot be squeezed out.

He even felt a little reckless this time.

Maybe there's no need for perfect luck at all.

Because this thing, if it wasn't for the terrifying corruption that comes with it, it wouldn't even be at the level of a quasi-devil.

A simple clumsy big guy is no different from a sandbag in front of agile players.

It is nothing more than a problem that the grossly unclean person is a little bigger, and it may cost thousands of knives.

Looking at the tons of meat around him gradually sinking into the swamp, he knew it was a big profit.

Walking back into the phalanx silently, he could clearly feel that the eyes of the people around him had changed.

That kind of look is no longer ordinary, based on the emperor's request, tacit understanding, trust, and loyalty.

But a kind of fanatical worship.

Although the word "saint" did not exist at this time, the word itself was a title chosen by the state religion later.

The existence of the sage himself has nothing to do with the existence of a vocabulary for this meaning.

As Drake will say in the future.

=The emperor is great not because of the titles he has won, not because of the golden throne he sits on, but because of everything he has done for mankind! =
= What we believe in is not the emperor himself, but the spirit reflected in him! =
The same is true of these words for saints.

This is why there are many "sages", but almost no "living saints".

Looking at Karl who returned alone with a single knife.

All the Sun Auxiliary Army in the phalanx gave a solemn sky eagle salute.

It is a recognition, a reverence, a newborn faith.

But just as Karl was enjoying the admiring gazes around him and the "territory" that had begun to expand wildly, at the edge of his sight, he saw a falling spaceship with a red tail flame.

(Picanus' family ship?)
(Hey guy, perfect luck, what a big job you did for me again?)

(You think a building can't kill me, and then directly challenge the upgrade, right?)

…………

(End of this chapter)