In the center of the battlefield, the Khorne Zealot was still alive after taking a direct hit from the Leman Russ Tank.
David almost thought his kill had been snatched again.
If someone else killed it, the drop items from Minecraft wouldn't drop.
David charged toward the Khorne Zealot, who only had 14 HP left, and swung his chicken thief sword at its slender neck.
Flames were still crackling on the zealot's body as it sensed the approaching threat of death.
Its bird-like head turned toward David, several eyeballs erupting with light, and an obscure, incomprehensible language issued from its beak.
The Khorne Zealot's figure suddenly vanished from before him, and David's sword strike hit nothing but air.
It was a teleportation; this Khorne Zealot was a Psyker.
The zealot's form re-materialized beside a pile of rubble ten meters away, the flames on its body suppressed and extinguished by the teleportation.
It knelt on the ground, its feathers completely charred and curled, looking like a vulture and incredibly wretched.
David didn't stop after his missed strike, twisting his body and charging forward again.
The Khorne Zealot's eyeballs lit up with an eerie blue light once more as the space around its body began to Warp and fluctuate.
Splat! Something cold and icy hit the zealot in the face.
The zealot's body couldn't help but lean backward; the snowball's weak knockback effect was perfectly timed to interrupt its spellcasting.
The Chicken Thief Ripper in his hand stabbed fiercely into the Khorne Zealot's chest.
The blade pierced flesh; the biological field attached to the chicken thief sword tore through the zealot's scales, feathers, and some mutated keratinous structures.
The strike made its already low health even worse, while simultaneously reducing its defense from 11 to 4.
The Khorne Zealot let out a cry of terror, grabbing the blade that had pierced its chest with one claw to stop David from twisting it further.
Several eyeballs stared at David's face from close range, his reflection mirrored in its pupils.
"Are you a Psyker? No, you're a Soulless... no, that's not right either..."
"What on earth are you? A block?"
The Khorne Zealot's voice trembled. As a Psyker, the zealot possessed powerful sensory abilities, capable of seeing a person's Warp essence through their body.
It had never seen such a bizarre Warp essence.
"What's wrong with a block?" David applied pressure, trying to pull back the blade. "Looking down on me for being a block person?"
Receiving no answer, the zealot knew it was a matter of life and death, and its survival instinct overwhelmed all fear.
"No matter what you are, die here for me!"
The Khorne Zealot used the last of its strength, its bird-like beak opening to an exaggerated angle.
David raised the adamantium shield in his off-hand and slammed it directly into the zealot's face.
"Gah—"
A sonic screech erupted from its wide-open beak, slamming into the shield's surface.
The shield's surface vibrated, perfectly resisting the sonic impact and even reflecting a portion of the force back the way it came.
The Khorne Zealot didn't expect the attack to be reflected back this way; it fell into a daze, the light in its eyes scattering.
David followed like a shadow, stepping forward and piercing through the Khorne Zealot's bird head from above.
"I will not die," the Khorne Zealot hissed with resentment and malice, its voice faint.
Its body turned ashen, and a massive amount of experience points gushed from its body—ten or even dozens of times more than what David had seen before—instantly causing David to level up several times.
So much experience?
"This is impossible, the soul..." The Khorne Zealot's words were drowned out by the experience.
In the end, only a few things that looked like glass marbles dropped from its head.
[Ender pearl] x 2
David picked up the two deep-colored ender pearls.
ender pearls could be used for both offense and defense; in the hands of a master, they could perform unexpected maneuvers.
They were cold to the touch, and he could faintly feel the fluctuations contained within.
Out of habit, he used JEI to check what items they could be made into.
Eye of ender, ender chest... the ender chest was a good thing; it could transmit items and information over long distances.
If Magnus had possessed an ender chest back then, he wouldn't have blown up the Emperor's Webway with a single psychic phone call.
The eye of ender was used to find The End strongholds; he wondered where it would lead him in Warhammer.
David put away the ender pearls and turned his gaze toward the battlefield, where the fires of war were growing increasingly intense.
Inside the auditorium.
Kreed sat behind a desk, draped in his signature leather greatcoat.
A crude cigar was clenched in his teeth as his gaze fell upon Pylon defense map on the table, his fingers unconsciously tapping the wood with a rhythmic click-clack.
Bang!
The office door was burst open, even slamming against the wall behind it with a loud crash.
A figure rushed in impetuously.
The newcomer was Sergeant Jaran Kell, Kreed's personal adjutant and a dear friend and old comrade who had crawled out of mountains of corpses and seas of blood with him.
In stark contrast to Kreed's steadiness, Kell was a typical hot-blooded man with a loud voice, quick movements, and emotions always written on his face.
"Kreed, quick, you have to come out and see this." Kell pointed outside.
"There are allies; our allies have fought their way in to support us."
Kreed bit down on the cigar in his mouth, sending sparks flying.
He stood up from his chair, the two Hellpistols hanging at his waist letting out a clatter.
"Which unit, which regiment?" Kreed looked at Kell.
"Many. I saw the insignia of the 23rd Regiment, and the 111th Regiment... leading them is a sergeant named Victor. I heard them say they gathered on the outskirts of Pylon,"
Kell tried to describe the incredible scene. "Then they dug a tunnel that led straight under our feet!"
"A tunnel?" Kreed's brow furrowed even tighter, but now was not the time for this.
Kreed made a judgment and suppressed his doubts.
"If it's as you say and they've disrupted the traitors' encirclement, then now is the perfect time for a counterattack."
"Let's go." Kreed strode toward the office exit, his cloak snapping behind him.
Just as he reached the door, a figure blocked his path.
It was a pot-bellied fat man.
His face was piled with worry. "General Kreed, why such a hurry? Why trouble yourself so much?"
Kreed didn't stop, not even glancing at the fat man, only spitting out a few concise words: "Reinforcements have arrived."
"Reinforcements?" The fat man shook his head like a rattle. "Reinforcements? With all due respect, how can you be sure they are truly reinforcements?"
"What if this is a new trick by the traitors, a self-directed rescue mission meant to lure us away?"
These full-of-holes words didn't cause even a ripple in Kreed's gaze.
He walked directly past the fat man.
The fat man felt a surge of annoyance at being ignored.
Kreed walked with long strides through the crude yet sturdy corridor, heading straight for the auditorium hall.