Under the harassment of the toxic mist, some of the weaker-willed Greenskin Boyz threw their weapons onto the deck to scratch at their skin, causing their formation to fall into total disarray.
In that moment, Sarah arrived.
Its speed was breathtaking. The Lictors followed in its wake like tigers entering a flock of sheep. Four bone blades blurred in motion, a head falling with every swing. Nine whip-tails lashed out continuously, each strike piercing a chest. It danced through the Greenskin ranks. The dance was elegant and lethal, precise and cruel. Wherever it passed, the Greenskins fell in swathes like crops flattened by a gale. Heads flew, blood geysered, and screams rose one after another.
Chandler kept his head down and ran, never once looking back. Finally, he stepped onto the deck of the Mad Bull. Several secondary engines ignited immediately. Calling them secondary engines was generous; they were essentially single-use thrusters. They would be scrap after use, but they provided a massive burst of short-term thrust.
The Mad Bull began to slowly extract the pair of horns embedded in the Measure of Discipline.
"Move! Move! Move!" Chandler bellowed. The Mad Bull's main engines had been shut down long ago; it now relied entirely on those disposable thrusters for reverse momentum. They spat out blue flames, pushing the behemoth backward. The lateral drifting of the Measure of Discipline finally ceased as the horns slid out of the wounds inch by inch, dragging out showers of debris and sparks.
The moment Chandler set foot on the deck of the Mad Bull, his mechanical bodyguard retinue sprang into action. They were not ordinary Nobs. These were elites handpicked by Chandler from countless battles—"mechanical beasts" built from the finest parts, the meanest weapons, and the thickest armor plates. Their sole purpose for existing was to ensure the Boss's safety.
Ten modified Deff Dread walkers lined up at the junction between the two ships. Their arms had been replaced with heavy weaponry: some carried twin-linked big shootas, others held terrifyingly thick rocket launchers or blue-flame skorchas. Extra steel plates were welded onto their armor, making them literal mobile bunkers.
Fifty Killa Kans stood in front of the Deff Dreads, acting as a vanguard. These Kans bore the yellow and black markings of the Bad Moons Clan, each equipped with extravagant luxury—gold-plated barrels and teeth decorations everywhere. The Grots inside were trembling with excitement; they had been modified by Painboyz so that only combat could trigger sensations of pleasure.
Hundreds of Nobs in mechanical power armor stood in the gaps of the walker line. Averaging three meters in height, each set of Greenskin power armor was a personal design by Chandler. Power axes hummed in their hands, and the muzzles of heavy big shootas glowed with the orange-red of pre-heating. They were the final line of defense, and the strongest.
Behind them crowded countless ordinary Boyz. Clutching choppas and sluggas, they squeezed into the corridors and piled onto the deck, forming layer after layer of meat shields. Their objective was singular: stop the blue monsters and ensure the Boss's safe retreat.
Sarah stood at the threshold between the Measure of Discipline and the Mad Bull, compound eyes locked onto Chandler. Her nine whip-tails rose simultaneously, fanning out into a radial pattern behind her. Each tail began to condense blue electrical light, the glow growing brighter and more blinding until everything in the vicinity was bathed in sharp azure.
Her compound eyes scanned the dense defensive line across from her, her brain rapidly calculating. Spotting the optimal point and timing for the strike, she let out a sudden screech.
Nine Bursting Lightning Spears shot out at once. They tore through the air, wreathed in violent electricity, and landed precisely on key positions of the Greenskin line: where the Deff Dreads were thickest, where the Killa Kans clustered, and in the center of the Nobs' formation.
The moment the spears struck the deck, a searing crackle erupted. A massive electromagnetic pulse (EMP) broke out. The blue light expanded rapidly, currents snaking across the Greenskin machinery.
The control systems of the Deff Dreads malfunctioned instantly. Their turrets began to spin indiscriminately, firing wildly in all directions. Rockets detonated among the Greenskin mobs, and big shoota rounds mowed down nearby allies. One Deff Dread's rocket launcher happened to aim directly at a cluster of Killa Kans; in a flash, three Kans were blown apart by friendly fire.
"Wot's happenin'?! Me turret ain't listenin'!" "I'm on your side, wot are ya—"
Explosions followed in rapid succession. Some Killa Kans suffered a worse fate. Their hydraulic systems were locked tight by the EMP, freezing every joint in place. The Grots inside frantically yanked levers and stomped pedals, but the machines remained as unresponsive as rusted iron. Current surged through the metal into the cockpits, sending the Grots into convulsions as they let out strangled screams. Their hair began to smoke, their skin charred black, and some eyes simply burst from the voltage.
The Nobs' power armor was also affected. The once-mighty mechanical suits became heavy iron coffins upon losing power. The Nobs tried to step forward only to find they couldn't lift their legs, and the big shootas in their hands failed. Imprisoned within the very armor they took pride in, they could only struggle to resist the agile monsters.
Even Greenskin technology driven by non-standard physical laws was impacted. A specialized mecha powered by "Waaagh!" energy felt its internal power fluctuate wildly. The pilot felt an intense paralysis surge through its limbs; the pain was so severe it collapsed into unconsciousness on the spot.
The screams of the Orks rose in a chorus of agony. The defensive line composed of steel and flesh collapsed instantly under the baptism of the electromagnetic pulse.
With the EMP taking effect, Sarah was the first to leap into the enemy formation. The remaining dozens of Lictors followed close behind.
Her speed was terrifying. The Greenskins, frozen in place and unable to move, saw only a blue afterimage flickering past. Then, their vision began to spin—the sensation of a head taking flight.
One Deff Dread attempted to turn and aim, only to fall over due to its scrambled control systems. Its massive bulk smashed into the deck, crushing several Boyz beneath it. Sarah blurred past it, a bone blade swinging to slice open the cockpit; the Mek inside was promptly shredded by the following Lictors.
A Killa Kan's hatch was jammed shut, the Grot inside already fried to the seat. Sarah didn't even give it a second glance as she streaked past. A Lictor pounced on it from behind, claws tearing through the armor to finish off the charred remains.
The Nobs tried to shed their power armor, but the hydraulic locks were stuck, and their paralyzed limbs lacked the strength to force them open. They pounded frantically at emergency switches and hammered at the plating with their fists, but the metal was fused to them. The Lictors pounced, claws slipping into the gaps of the plating to tear apart the vulnerable flesh within.