Invincible after death, but in Warhammer 40K

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While the pope was conducting the ceremony, Zhang Ge and Amilia were certainly not idle. After calculating the number of thermal bombs they had on hand, Zhang Ge formulated a demolition plan, adding a few plasma canisters to the mix.

There were too many people participating in the ritual below—at least three to four hundred, with dozens of elite guards stationed on the outer perimeter. Even if they could manage to eliminate them all in a surprise attack, it would be difficult to finish before enemy reinforcements arrived from above.

However, for the sake of the ritual, they were standing too close together, shoulder to shoulder. If the buildings surrounding the lower altar were to collapse, it would likely cause massive casualties.

As long as these upper management figures were wiped out, the outskirts of the hive city were no safe haven either. Without organization, the Dawn Cult would quickly be torn apart and devoured.

If the goal was simply to annihilate the Dawn Cult, this would already be sufficient. All Amilia needed to do was take the footage recorded by her force-feedback armor to the local Mechanicus personnel, and within minutes, they could mobilize an entire regiment to sweep the area clean.

Not a single living soul—or even bacteria—would likely remain.

The desecration of the Machine God was no trivial matter, especially when it was due to the negligence of the Mechanicus' own personnel. Even if the local members were unaware, such an incident... would certainly not end with just holding the first person who came here to dig accountable.

A great number of people will end their political lives, and some will even exit the biosphere.

Even without considering the value of a damaged Warlord Titan, for the sake of their own lives, they would undoubtedly act with unprecedented efficiency.

But for Zhang Ge, whether the Dawn Cult lives or dies is irrelevant; what matters is whether he himself survives.

Thus, to "promptly halt the heretical rituals of the cultists," let the explosions begin.

Amidst the hymns, the sounds of melta and plasma explosions replaced the chants, the searing heat and deafening blasts tearing apart the ritual atmosphere. In that moment, the flames shone brighter than the light from the searchlights above.

Under the extreme temperatures, a significant portion of the scrap metal was directly vaporized, while the rest turned into dazzling white-hot liquid metal, splattering in all directions. Much of it landed on the cult members below, who were still unaware of what was happening.

Fortunately, their suffering would not last long. As the structure lost its support and the high temperatures caused expansion, deformation, and a reduction in strength, the once-sturdy scrap metal building let out a painful creak and slowly began to collapse downward.

At this moment, whether bishop, archbishop, or ordinary guard, there was no distinction. Under the crumbling structure, now rolling with thick clouds of dust and mud, they were all reduced to indistinguishable piles of flesh.

The slaughter had only just begun.

In the hands of Amilia, who no longer needed to conceal herself, the longsword suddenly erupted with a dazzling brilliance. Within that radiant light, Zhang Ge even faintly glimpsed a pure white halo manifesting behind her.

She leapt down, her form like a streak of light, crashing to the ground in an instant. The dense crowd around her posed no obstacle as she plowed straight through, mowing down both the masses and several fully armored Pontifical Guards. Her sharp blade then struck toward the Pontiff.

A surge of psychic energy swept through, and a faint bluish-purple shield intercepted the sword in front of the Pontiff, momentarily halting its advance.

The Pope wore a strange smile on his face:

"Travelers, you are truly fortunate to witness the dawn."

He seemed to want to say more, but upon realizing that the sword could not break through the shield in a short time, Amilia immediately released the hilt and delivered a kick to his chest with a speed far exceeding his neural reaction time.

The chest, caved in by the immense force, was pierced by the now unobstructed sword in the next moment.

"Playing tricks."

However, when it came to killing efficiency, Amilia still paled in comparison to Zhang Ge.

Perhaps due to its exquisite craftsmanship, the recoil of the finely crafted boltgun in Zhang Ge's hands was exceptionally low. Even during prolonged bursts, the trajectory could be controlled within a narrow range, as the muzzle spat fire with near-fanatic intensity.

One after another, the bolts pierced through the dust raised by the collapsing buildings, raining down densely on the crowd below. "Raining" might not be the most accurate term, as no individual would be hit by more than three bolts. It was more like a continuous, high-speed, and precise barrage.

After the explosions, there were already few survivors below. After Amilia turned around and killed a few more, there were no others left standing.

The ground was littered with human remains torn apart by the bolts—blood, fragments, bone shards, and flesh crushed by the buildings.

Only then did Zhang Ge, somewhat doubtfully, remove the magazine he hadn't changed and shook it... If his estimation was correct, after this round of firing, there was still a small amount of ammunition left in the magazine?

Although the dust had obscured his vision and he hadn't seen clearly, were there really so few people alive below that such a small amount of ammunition was enough to kill them all?

No, that couldn't be. It must have been Amilia's doing.

With this thought, after sliding down the inclined edge, Zhang Ge and Amilia, who had witnessed the precise shooting, simultaneously raised their hands and gave each other a thumbs-up.

Zhang Ge's inner thoughts: It seems the battle nuns are quite gentle? After finishing the fight, seeing that I didn't contribute much, they still encouraged me.

Amilia's inner thoughts: He can be so humble despite such a masterful display of skill? Indeed, I still have much to learn.

Their mutual respect inexplicably increased.

Although noise was already beginning to come from above, Zhang Ge and Amilia still took some time to clear the area, killing all those who were still moving.

However, as the dust settled a bit, another issue presented itself: It wasn't entirely accurate to say no one was left standing. The young men and women intended as sacrifices, being close to the blood pool near the edge of the altar, had not been affected by the collapsing buildings or the crossfire.

Now, only four pairs remained, a total of eight people. They watched the unfolding events with confusion, numbness, or fear.

Amilia had noticed them earlier but hadn't found the time to deal with them. She shook the blood off her sword and walked toward the sacrificial offerings.

"Wait."

A hand reached out from behind and tapped Amilia. Zhang Ge spoke briefly, then stepped past her and approached the group.

"Stand still, don't move."

Zhang Ge took out a cross from his bag and pressed it against each of their faces one by one, pulling aside those who showed signs of burns.

By the end of the screening, only one young girl remained untainted, while the others were grouped together.

Perhaps it was true that only a rare few could emerge untainted from corruption. Some might have been passively tainted, but there was no time for further scrutiny.

With the pull of the trigger, bullets swiftly and mercifully ended their lives, sparing them the gruesome fate of being tortured and sacrificed to evil deities.

"Let's go."

Without saying much, Zhang Ge took the hand of the last remaining girl.

But as he took a step forward, he felt a slight resistance.

He turned to see the girl, one hand in his, the other tugging at the hem of his clothes. Her frail body stumbled but she refused to move forward.

Seeing Zhang Ge look back, she gestured frantically and stammered in the common tongue, her clear eyes reflecting his image:

"I... if I go out... I'll... kill more people... Please... kill me."

After speaking, when he didn't respond immediately, she seemed to grow anxious. She stepped forward and pried the cross from his seemingly unshakable grip.

She reached into her long hair and pulled out a strand, wincing slightly but continuing without pause.

She looped the strand of hair through the empty space where a necklace would go on the cross, tied a knot, and then draped it around Zhang Ge's neck as he silently crouched down to her level.

The pendant swayed lightly as she repeated:

"Please... kill me."

The cold barrel of the gun pressed against her forehead in silence, and a single bullet, seemingly conjured from an empty magazine, was fired.

Blood splattered, mingling with the ground.

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