The Creators: From Night City

Page 527

To disconnect it from the internet, we first need to go outside the universe and cut down Heiml.

The diluted medicine was taken by another patient, and soon the little girl slowly woke up. As expected, her condition began to improve rapidly and she was completely cured within half an hour.

"It's okay," Rasma finally decided.

The STC universal manufacturing template, number 125, continued to expand amidst the flowing light, transforming into a mature production line and beginning to ramp up its production capacity.

Jiang Bing wanted to distribute these special antidotes throughout the entire Twelfth War Zone within a day.

"How's your research on the other effective drug going?"

“It will take some more time,” Rasma replied.

"To create a counter-plague against these plagues, we need more samples. These plagues must have come from a powerful plague mage whose control over the realm of life and death far exceeds my imagination."

"I need a sample. Do you need my help?" Jiang Bing's avatar stroked his chin, starting to think about how to 'sample' efficiently.

"I can do it myself," the first Nephalem said, shrugging as a vast amount of magical power flowed silently from his palm.

As a necromancer whose mission is to maintain the balance between life and death, Rasmar naturally felt a deep aversion to Nurgle's abnormal policy of allowing the living to live and corruption to persist.

Unlike Lily, who is not good at fighting, this founder of necromancers is sure to be more brutal and deadly than Mortarion when he really wields his scythe.

Chapter 1068 Frail and Delicate Rasmar

As news spread that the Mechanicus had developed a special effect against the plague, the entire logistics system of the war zone sprang into action, rapidly distributing mountains of silitoxin vials, along with the divine medicine revered as "the gift of the Om Messiah," throughout the camps.

In addition to saving countless lives, it also led to a surge in new imperial believers coming to worship outside the Mechanical Temple.

When one is well-fed, clothed, and free from illness, finding solace in faith can indeed be a good remedy for anxiety.

Therefore, as the commander-in-chief of the war zone, Cato Sicarius had an additional task besides military duties: maintaining order around the Temple of Mechanics.

The sheer volume of work could overwhelm an ordinary person, but fortunately, every extreme warrior is born with extraordinary management skills.

However, the mountain of paperwork still kept the second company commander glued to his desk all day long. After all, as the core node of the surface defense system, the situation of the Twelfth War Zone was being closely watched by the surface forces, the fleet led by Guilliman, and the Plague Fleet. All defense matters were inextricably linked to him.

Even with his busy schedule, there were two things he still prioritized.

One was Guilliman's direct order, and the other was the new movements of the two 'divine messengers'.

Therefore, when Rasma, who had always kept a low profile, privately invited him to a meeting, he did not hesitate to put aside his heavy political duties and went there immediately.

When the invincible second company commander saw Rasmar again, the necromancer was performing a ritual to comfort all the dead in a makeshift cemetery.

Whether they were Imperial soldiers who died in battle or Imperial citizens who were transformed into plague zombies, death treated them all the same, and Rasmar, as a necromancer, was no exception.

Dark magic surged around Rasmar, a Nephalem who existed simultaneously in the dimensions of reality and the dead, practicing his principles of maintaining the cycle of life and death and the balance of all things.

"Great Sage Rasmar, do you have something to discuss with me?" Cato Sicarius addressed him with a hint of respect.

Ever since Rasmar discovered the antidote to the plague, his image has automatically evolved into that of a mechanical sage who is well-versed in biochemistry.

There was no way around it. Although this special envoy didn't have a high profile, logically speaking, anyone who could accompany the 'Om Messiah' envoy must be a technical master of the Cult of Mechanics. Moreover, the fact that he resolved the plague that had been troubling them with his first move only confirmed this speculation.

"Follow me"

The necromancer didn't say much, but led the other person into his laboratory.

As a necromancer, it would be perfectly reasonable for his office to be located next to a large cemetery.

Cato Cicarius remained silent, but followed closely behind the other man into the research lab.

The architectural styles of the Empire are all very recognizable, and the Mechanicus, which is responsible for the construction work, has a unified aesthetic tendency.

Thick, sturdy, engraved with prayers and runes, with interwoven pipes, prioritizing practicality.

However, the building in front of us was filled with an air of heresy.

What you see most are bones and flesh, followed by various twisted monster limbs, plant and animal specimens, and many research instruments that look primitive but are actually not advanced at all.

The second company commander instinctively gripped the hilt of his sword at his waist.

A barrier divides the space inside the building into a separate, enclosed room.

There were no guards, only two skeletons standing on either side of the door, their eye sockets glowing with dim phosphorescence, heads bowed and silent.

The second company commander felt that these two skeletons were definitely not easy to deal with.

But today's focus is not on these two human bone specimens, but on a vial of medicine that has been confined indoors.

The amount of medicine in this jar is not large; it is contained in an antique alchemical crucible and contains less than 500 milliliters at most.

It was bound at the center by a complex magic array, yet it continued to churn like a volcanic eruption, as if it were alive and trying to break free.

"Digging the roots"

Rasmar revealed the name of the potion, a work he had devoted a great deal of effort to completing.

He unleashed magic in his hands, summoning a fungus that had been transplanted nearby.

The second company commander recognized the plant; it was a mutated strain spawned by an evil plague, and a large part of the surface of Alarius was already covered by this crop.

The necromancer didn't say much, but instead brought the wriggling plague fungus closer to the potion.

As the plague fungus drew ever closer to the potion, it writhed frantically, as if approaching a terrifying source of radiation, desperately trying to escape, but to no avail, and could only continue to slowly approach.

Finally, this twisted crop, which was difficult to burn even with promethium flames, turned yellow and withered from the inside out, as if it had ingested a huge amount of arsenic. Before it even touched the potion, it began to wither rapidly just from being exposed to the rising mist.

Rasmar then used the same trick again, testing other plague plants in turn, and the results were naturally the same.

The exaggerated effect shocked the Second Company Commander's mother for a whole year.

This stuff is practically the ancestor of all herbicides.

His strong tactical skills allowed him to immediately recognize the enormous potential of the potion.

"To what extent can it be accomplished, Maester Rasma?"

“The entire planet’s vegetation will be destroyed. Note that I’m talking about all vegetation, whether it’s contaminated or not,” Rasma stated, explaining the cost of using it.

"No sacrifice is too great to be tolerated, let alone just some vegetation." The second company commander didn't care about the cost.

"We must deploy it across the entire planet's surface as soon as possible to relieve the pressure on the garrison forces in the various war zones."

At this point, Cato Cicarius was at a loss.

For biological and chemical weapons like these, the most efficient way is undoubtedly to airdrop them directly into the troposphere and disperse them rapidly using atmospheric circulation.

If the drop point is chosen properly (such as at the equator or in the mid-latitude jet stream), the material can spread throughout the entire planet within a few days.

Unfortunately, Alarius's air superiority was still firmly in the hands of the Plague Fleet, and the high sky was filled with spore-bearing mines, making the plan a pipe dream.

Rasmar offered no further advice; his task was simply to create the potion, and the rest would naturally be left to the professionals.

“This matter requires my detailed planning, Sage Rasmar. Please keep it strictly confidential during this period.”

The second company commander surveyed the messy research room, then looked at Rasmar, whose physique was normal but different from other great sages of the Cult of Mechanics, and tentatively suggested: "In addition, to ensure your safety and that of this work, should I arrange some guards for you?"

Rasmar, who was scraping the flesh off the blade of a bone scythe, slowly turned his head and stared at the Ultramariner.

"Thank you for your kind offer, Company Commander Sicarius, but it's not necessary for now. I do know a little about self-defense."

Chapter 1069 The Curtain Rises

The heavy and sturdy Macurag tapestries were considered high-end works of art in the world of luxury goods in human empires. These handicrafts were known for their fine stitches, dense textures, vivid patterns, and exquisite materials.

A standard-sized high-end tapestry can often be exchanged for half a warehouse of fertilizer or other equivalent resources.

The tapestry behind Guilliman's desk is almost the largest tapestry ever created, covering an area of ​​nearly 50 square meters.

This tapestry depicts the sacred scene of Guilliman's coronation, woven with exquisite craftsmanship and adorned with gold and silver threads. It is no exaggeration to say that it is worth more than a 'ball'.

Before the tapestry, Guilliman sat upright in his large, sturdy chair, his mind connected to the government system, handling a vast amount of government work.

Thanks to the several creation runes that Jiang Bing forged into his soul, the work that would have taken tens of thousands of high-ranking imperial officials a day and night was approved and processed in just four Terrans: the great 'Regent,' the ruthless government processing robot, and the son of Robert Guilliman.

However, anyone who has ever worked knows that work is never-ending.

Many jobs can be done by others if you don't do them; some jobs are as good as nothing if you don't do them. Working hard only brings intermittent moments of ambition; only slacking off is the eternal truth.

Guilliman understood this principle as well, but unfortunately, he was the third-in-command of the Human Empire LLC, and also served as the general manager. If he didn't do some of the work, no one else would.

So he shook his somewhat dizzy head and, surrounded by the honor guard, headed to the tactical hall to continue his work.

War is coming.

The entire fleet's senior commanders were aware of this.

A complex data report floated in front of Guilliman.

Its content is about the test data related to 'digging roots'.

"So, as long as this 'Root Digging' is sown in the troposphere, it will take only 44 Terra to completely inactivate all the plague plants on the surface?"

"Without a doubt, the Divine Child Guilliman," the Sage Cald, currently serving as a technology advisor, reaffirmed his calculations.

"That's really good news," Guilliman said, but there was little joy on his face.

War is never a one-man show, nor is it a simple turn-based game of back and forth. War requires comprehensive consideration and all-round calculation.

The decay of the plague vegetation on the surface does more than just signify the failure of the plague fleet's painstaking efforts on the planet Alarius.

This event was also a very important turning point in the war.

It also represents an opportunity for the human forces that have been holding out on the surface to launch a counterattack. Similarly, it represents a good chance to recapture the Alarius orbital platform and take Alarius back from the Plague Fleet.

But war is always a matter of great importance, and even though Guilliman's computing power is beyond human imagination, he still cannot guarantee how the war will unfold once it starts.

Recapture of Alarius and continued confrontation with the Plague Fleet would be the best course of action, but there is also the possibility that the two sides will fight to the death, with the outcome determined by a bloody battle.

The latter, however, was what Guilliman was unsure about.

But war will come when it is meant to come, and the work of preparing for war can never be perfected—a concept Guilliman understood ten thousand years ago.

"Great Sage Coulson, how is the 'Divine Reconstruction' project progressing?" Guilliman suddenly asked his advisor a seemingly unrelated question.

"More than two thousand original Astartes have already undergone the 'Holy Reforging' surgery, but it is still less than 30% complete compared to the overall schedule you set."

“War never waits, and the Plague Fleet won’t wait for us to be fully prepared,” Guilliman stated as he brought up a tactical projection of the planet Alarius.

The dark green color, representing filth and contamination, has covered most of the planet, making it look from a distance like a moldy, rotten orange.

"Let the Astartes who have completed the recasting work prepare for war."

"clear"

"Notify all commanders of the fleet that a general online meeting will be held in half a standard hour," Guilliman issued his final pre-battle notification.

War is never an easy thing. In order to achieve victory, Guilliman began to personally drive his combined fleet, like driving an old giant to start a slow but steady sprint toward victory.

A massive amount of orders and instructions were gathered to him, then digested by an extremely intelligent mind, and transformed into new orders that were then issued.

Ship movement, logistical support, personnel deployment, strategic layout...

Under Guilliman's superb coordination skills, all the forces of the combined fleet began to be consolidated. From the star positioning and combat formation of the battle barges to the supply of materials and personnel appointments and dismissals in each assault ship, Guilliman's will was transformed into tiny tentacles, gradually extending to every corner of the combined fleet with a massive number of orders.

A somber atmosphere gradually rises in the vast sea of ​​stars.

The frequent personnel changes within the Human Empire clearly caught the attention of the Plague Fleet immediately.

The other side immediately dispatched a large number of ships, expanding the scope of their reconnaissance.

Meanwhile, the main force of the Plague Fleet also began to move slowly.

Like two duelists who had ended their static standoff, the two forces began to slowly pace around, searching for a weakness in the place before launching a fatal attack.

Whether intentional or not, the focus of both sides' maneuvering was on Alarius, who was in the middle of them.

Although they had never communicated, Guilliman and Mortalian's exceptional war sense led them to simultaneously begin planning their campaign against Alarius.

…………

It was quiet at dawn.

The black sky covered the heavens, making the earth appear as if it were stained with ink.

Behind a protruding rock, a pair of scarlet goggles silently emerged.

"The target building has been occupied by the forces of Chaos," the scout reported.

[Continue to scout enemy troop composition] The voice of Titus came through the communication channel.

【receive】