Chapter 17: No More Pretending! I’m Half a Genetic Prototype

Upon entering the Warhammer world, few dared to launch a direct frontal assault against the Tyranid swarm—aside from the ever-joyful green-skinned orcs, it seemed no one else would.

But there was no alternative! I had to rely on these bugs to rack up points, and the Red King had to embody the predator’s image; the Tyranids were nothing but prey.

Under Rod’s command, the Red King strode boldly out from the sheltering mountains and launched a decisive offensive against the Tyranid horde.

Its massive form thundered forward, causing localized tremors with every pounding step. Weighing over 26,000 tons, the ground beneath it buckled and cracked, the sheer force and presence overwhelming.

Shockwaves emanated from its charge, shredding some of the smaller bugs to pieces. Even Rod, hiding deep within a distant cave, felt the earth tremble violently.

Nearby, a young nurse sister shrank in terror, curling into a tight ball and clasping her hands in fervent prayer.

“Emperor protect us! Emperor protect us!”

Facing the Red King’s onslaught, the Tyranids responded by sending only swarms of expendable cannon fodder, withholding any elite units.

Grinding through these fodder troops yielded only a slow trickle of system gold, yet some gains were made. Hours passed in a blink.

Without elite Tyranid forces attacking, the Red King faced the low-level bugs effortlessly. These creatures could not even pierce its defenses—it was like a giant mercilessly stomping a colony of ants, efficiently slaughtering the swarm.

By nightfall, Rod had accumulated a total of fourteen thousand gold points.

Though the Red King had not yet reached its limit, Rod was unwilling to wait any longer. He enhanced the Red King’s body again, spending three thousand points to increase its mass by three thousand tons.

Now weighing twenty-nine thousand tons and standing forty-nine meters tall, the Red King's skin was tens of times harder than steel.

No longer could even the higher-tier Tyranid warriors or executioners breach its defenses.

Rod had been awake for nearly forty hours straight, his body pushed to the brink. His mind swirled in a haze of exhaustion.

He bit his lip, trying to force himself awake, but the overwhelming drowsiness was unstoppable.

Seeing the young nurse sister had already fallen asleep on the ground, Rod leaned back and decided to rest for just one hour.

In the dead of night, bleary-eyed Nurse Elena noticed Rod sleeping in the corner and sighed quietly.

She picked up a thick military coat, gently draped it over him, and returned to her place.

All along, she bore no ill will toward this civilian; earlier, she had only sought to grant him a merciful release, for the ferocity of the swarm was beyond his comprehension.

But now that the swarm had been repelled by that giant outside, everyone had a chance to survive—so she would no longer take such measures.

Medical sisters were healers, not killers.

Those who delighted in killing and executing civilians—the Sisters of Battle—were warriors, not the healers like her.

Rod slept deeply and comfortably through that rest.

As faint sunlight filtered into his eyes, he suddenly awoke, sitting up in a panic.

Damn! He had fallen asleep without realizing it!

Rod cursed himself—this was a perilous Warhammer world! How could he afford to sleep?

“You’re awake. Don’t worry, that big guy outside is incredibly powerful. The swarm has been driven far away by it; it even chases after the bugs in pursuit. We can only see it now through observation instruments,” the nurse’s voice whispered beside him.

That little girl hadn’t made a move against him? What a relief!

He had meant to nap for just an hour but ended up sleeping much longer.

“I told you, I mean you no harm. I’ll even protect you. When two Imperial soldiers came to deliver water, I hid you behind so they wouldn’t find you.”

“You must be thirsty. Here, have some water.” The nurse handed Rod a cup of fresh water.

Within the cave were numerous military rations, but no fresh water. Some canned foods could provide moisture, but nothing quenched thirst like real water.

That morning, some Imperial soldiers had found a water source and brought some back, and she had reserved a cup especially for Rod.

Rod’s lips were parched and cracked; he nodded and gratefully drank the water in one gulp, feeling instantly refreshed.

More than forty hours without water—this drink was pure bliss.

“Thank you! How’s the situation outside now?” Rod asked, returning the cup.

“The swarm has retreated about two hundred miles. It seems they don’t want to engage that big guy. They are constantly withdrawing to avoid battle. At least for now, we are safe.” The young nurse smiled gently.

Indeed, the swarm had truly been driven back by that giant.

Rod nodded and opened the system interface. From the Red King’s perspective, the monstrous creature was relentlessly pursuing the Tyranids.

The Tyranids no longer wished to fight the Red King. Checking the system’s gold, Rod was surprised to find over twenty-four thousand points—an increase of more than ten thousand while he had slept.

Apparently, he had rested for quite a long time!

Thankfully, the swarm chose to avoid direct confrontation. Had they attacked at full strength, the Red King might already have been destroyed.

“How long was I asleep?”

“About fourteen Terra hours. It’s already midday,” the nurse replied.

“Thank you. By the way, I don’t even know your name. I’m Rod.”

“Hello, Rod. I’m Elena. I was born on an agricultural world and have been with the medical sisters for less than a year.”

“Thank you for the water, Sister Elena.”

“Mr. Rod, I suppose this counts as our first real introduction. To be honest, I’m quite curious about you. A civilian who doesn’t speak High Gothic, yet possesses such pure human genes—untouched by any corruption and incredibly ancient. Where do you come from?” Elena asked with genuine curiosity.

During the previous Tyranid threat, they all thought they would soon perish, so no one bothered to ask. But now, she wanted to know who this mysterious man really was.

He might not be a mere civilian of this planet, especially since he knew about the Chaos menace—knowledge no ordinary civilian should have.

“You want to know my true identity?”

“Very well. At this point, I won’t hide it—I’m essentially a half-gene primarch.”