Chapter 145 The Progenitor of Mushroom Picking

It doesn't know what it is or where it is. In short, it is such a nice, soft and steaming land. It is suitable for a thief to dig his head out of this soft mound of soil, stare at his two bright eyes, which are neither green nor big, and pick things up from the ground. He picked up an iron stick used for watering shrimps and piped it. He held the stick and looked at the green thing next door with big eyes and then small eyes.

There aren't many cubs growing out of the ground right now. He can't tell whether it's because they haven't been planted for a long time or because the nutrition in this rotten vegetable patch is not enough. In short, the kid next to him only has three melons and two melons. A few jujubes were standing stupidly in the field with green leaves, not as cunning as them at all.

After thinking about it, he stretched out the stick in his hand and pushed the boy next to him into the vegetable field with his butt upwards, and burst into laughter. When the other boys saw this, they rushed up to play with him, and he easily fucked his pussy with a left hand and a slap in the face. When the other boys were tired, he felt that he had grown bigger again. Circle, lick the armpits, and it smells bad again.

Just as it was arrogantly picking up some rotten vegetable leaves from the ground with its hands on its hips to decorate its brain, suddenly two big steel shrimps and a tiny black shrimp rushed in. The first The first big guy is both gold and silver, and the second big guy is both silver and gold. He is very old.

Before it waaaaagh, a golden light burst out from the palm of the little black shrimp, as bright as Brother Mao's big fart, and it was instantly crushed into a charred paste. Before it had time to act cunning and pretend to beg for mercy, uh...

"Are we encountering a particularly fast-growing branch, or is this common among orcs?"

Morse raised his hands flat, and fire poured out from his palms. The scorching flames carried the fragments of flying golden letters and asserted that they burned through the black and brown farmland where all the green vitality of the Phalanx was turned into alien nutrients, leaving only charred residues behind, and then destroyed The coming of power carries the hope of redemption.

After the flames burned away the organic matter in the soil, and even the walls were covered with the dark remains of the swaying shadows of the flames and candles, Morse put down his hand and pinched out a golden candlestick, leaving thirteen clusters of golden flames surrounding the land as a symbol of In preparation for setting up to prevent another accident, the hands clapped each other to signal the end of the work.

"Can't tell," Roger Dorn said.

And Perturabo snorted: "This is best an exception."

"At least we have proven the efficiency of the orc growers. If this thing can be eaten like a non-toxic mushroom, we may directly solve the supply problem of the imperial fleet, and we can report it to the emperor for reward."

Morse compacted several acres of charred and caked land with majestic force, and stabilized it into a solid black glass-like ground. The atomic structure was directly changed under his control, eliminating the possibility of the orcs sprouting again as completely as possible. sex.

If you look at the black stone ground together with the thirteen clusters of eternal flames and the burnt marks on the surrounding white walls, it feels like a deep atmosphere full of shadows in a dark temple or temple.

"I see that your field cannot be reused," Morse said, "I'll just prepare a decorative place for you."

Rogal Dorn belatedly added: "Even if Orcs can be eaten, the very act of raising xenos is contrary to the Emperor's public declaration - thank you for the free interior design, Morse.

"Mors has never been able to give good advice," Perturabo said, casually aligning himself with Dorn and covering up his frown with his cheap jokes.

Morse has gradually discovered a characteristic of Perturabo recently, that is, the closer the interlocutor is to the Lord of Iron, the more compromised the Lord of Iron's rhetorical skills will be.

He smiled and didn't care. "I assume that a necessary component of a good relationship is mutual ridicule, Perturabo. Let's move on to the next place. I think Dorn is getting anxious."

Dorn raised his head from the data tablet, then lowered it again in order to talk to Morse: "Floating spores were detected in the water tank of the microalgae culture room, and there are no formed orcs."

"We can try non-supernatural purification methods this time," Perturabo said. "Don't let Morse do all the work."

Dorn showed his data pad, which contained several green-skinned orc cooking methods listed in neatly printed handwriting, including potions, incineration, high pressure, extremely low temperature, and so on. He did not know when he finished writing the silent project execution list with extremely high efficiency. This may be used to demonstrate the advantages of freehand writing on the data pad compared to silent recording written with a data pen.

"I have ordered my mortal servants to prepare a series of measures," Dorn said. "In addition, the canned vegetables distributed this afternoon are being stored in the warehouse. No one else has eaten them except a member of the Imperial Fist Legion who tasted them to verify their nutritional content. ”

"Then you go and burn the orcs, and I'll see if the Astartes' saliva and stomach acid can dissolve the orc spores."

A golden stream of light flashed across Morse's body, and he prepared memory-revision psychic powers that were not harmful to the human body's physical body and light body, as well as the surgery to replace internal organs that might be necessary. Although he found out that there was no green skin in the legion member's stomach during the remote spying just now, such a delicate operation still requires some preparation.

"Give me the address and I'll find you after processing."

"No, Mors." Dorn took back his data pad. "Our Legion needs to be directed whether to pursue the Ork fleet, and how to cleanse the planets occupied by the Orcs."

He looked at Perturabo, who was torn between tightening his eyebrows more tightly or stretching the muscles between his brows appropriately: "So, Dorn?"

"Would you be willing to test the effective way to destroy the orcs by yourself, and I will be responsible for commanding both of our legions?"

Dorn began his explanation seriously, and the words flowed naturally and smoothly from his mouth, without any irrational discussion with hidden unnecessary emotional factors.

"I don't want to seize your command, but you are more experienced in conducting experiments. If there is time, I should test with you and learn the operation methods. However, I think it is a delay and waste for our legion to fight with two Primarchs at the same time, and in order to avoid losing the opportunity to fight when encountering an enemy that the legion cannot deal with on its own..."

Perturabo reached out and patted Rogal Dorn's shoulder, and his brother responded with a wink.

"No need to explain further, I agree." Perturabo said, "I can see that the Imperial Fists are good at attacking. Do what you want, you have my name and permission."

Morse snapped his fingers. "Since I burned a piece of farmland and it can effectively help you suppress your worries about the inside of the Phalanx, I will teleport you to the strategy room, how about that?"

Rogal Dorn was about to nod when his feet were empty. When he nodded by inertia, he had already landed at the door of the strategy room.

A heavy landing helped him stabilize his body instantly. He glanced at the golden armor he was wearing and walked steadily into the spacious hall.

The Imperial Fists command and Kaidomo Fricks and Azak Ahriman, who had worked with him before, were waiting here. Iscus stood by, with only determination on his half-metal face, and he knew nothing about the disaster he had accidentally caused. Dorn was not going to punish him now.

"Kedomo Fricks."

"Yes, Master Primarch."

"Recommend me a suitable team of Iron Warriors. I need to borrow 5,000 Iron Warriors to participate in the next few battles against aliens." Dorn made a request, which was one-fourteenth of the current Astartes of the Iron Warriors. "I need a commander who is good at space combat and close combat fire support."

"Warsmith Bill Perrin." Fricks replied. "Nicknamed 'Good Captain'."

Rogal Dorn nodded and sent an invitation to the Iron Warriors to assist in the battle through the data board. At the same time, he continued to name the command level of the Imperial Fists and arrange their respective combat tasks.

He kept Morse's proposal in mind. The former commander of the Imperial Fists, Aeolus, and his first company will participate in the battle. Aeolus's close combat brought him many merits in the Unification War.

At the same time, Rogal Dorn himself will also participate in the battle.