Armor plating formed its mountain-like silhouette, and the sacred Aquila carved on the hull reflected a cold, metallic gleam.
Macro-cannons and las-batteries were deployed along the broadside, accompanied by combat escort craft.
It even had a health bar!
One, ten, a hundred, a thousand—Zeke counted, there were three zeros.
From the distance came Dance's excited shout:
"It's the mark of the Volscani!"
Volscani? That regiment that defected to Chaos? Zeke snapped out of his daze.
The Volscani Cataphracts, a regiment famous in the Cadian Sector for their tenacity, resilience, and unparalleled loyalty. They had fought on the front lines for years. But few knew that this regiment had actually been corrupted long ago.
High in the sky, the Poppy carried by the air currents drifted toward the majestic ship.
As it approached, the petals curled and blackened, withered and decayed, turning into a pinch of ash that scattered in the gale.
No matter how beautiful or brilliant something was at birth, once fallen, all that remained was its ugly, rotting essence.
Zeke withdrew his gaze and walked back quickly. He knew that time was running out.
Everything was heralding the imminent 13th Black Crusade.
–
Inside the Volscani Cataphracts' massive ship.
Soldiers clad in artificer armor, holding custom-pattern lasguns, stood in neat rows, solemn and silent.
They looked at each other, a hint of fanaticism in their eyes.
In the front row, a soldier raised his hand and spoke slowly: "For Chaos."
Immediately, a second voice joined in: "For Chaos."
The third, the tenth, the hundredth—more and more voices repeated the same short phrase.
"For Chaos!"
–
"For Cadia! May you have a safe journey." Dance wanted to chase after the massive ship, but his newly recovered body couldn't support such strenuous activity.
He could only salute, watching the ship sail into the distance, offering his most sincere blessings to his "comrades-in-arms."
Zeke, who had hurried back, saw this scene. He stopped, opened his mouth, but ultimately made no sound.
Should I tell this kid that the reinforcements he sees are actually already corrupted?
No, forget it. Some truths are too cruel. Better to let this illusory hope linger a moment longer.
"The support you mentioned just now... who were they?" Zeke feigned ignorance.
"It's an order from High Command." Dance withdrew his gaze.
"To deal with the increasingly complex situation in the sector, all available regiments are being recalled to defend Cadia and assemble near the Tyrok Fields."
As Dance explained, he struggled to pull a corpse half-buried under rubble out and placed it on the relatively flat clearing nearby.
Only then did Zeke notice that while he was away looking for wood, Dance had been doing this work the whole time.
Several bodies were already neatly arranged in the clearing.
"I intended to burn them," Dance wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Otherwise, the plague might spread again through the corpses. Unfortunately, I can't find any promethium nearby."
Zeke fell silent. He had forgotten that plagues could spread.
After all, the monsters he killed left nothing behind except EXP and loot drops—let alone issues like spreading plagues.
While Dance busied himself, Zeke turned and walked to the side, selecting a relatively flat piece of ground.
He dug a 2x2 hole, one block deep, with his bare hands, and took out two buckets of water.
He poured the first bucket into one corner of the pit. The water flowed out, filling that block and flowing toward the sides.
Immediately after, Zeke poured the second bucket into the diagonally opposite corner.
When the second stream was released, the other two empty blocks in the pit simultaneously filled with clear water.
The four blocks of water reached equilibrium, forming an inexhaustible [Infinite Water Source].
Zeke took a bucket, scooped water from the pit, and splashed it outside. He repeated this cycle a dozen times, but the water in the pit didn't decrease—if anything, it looked like there was plenty.
After concluding that infinite water was possible, Zeke placed down the Crafting Table.
He had enough wood and charcoal now. First, he crafted sixteen more Torches, then made the remaining stone tools: a Shovel and a Hoe.
He tilled a small patch of land next to the infinite water source, planted the Wheat Seeds, and took out the Bone Meal to force-grow them.
"Mooo..."
On the wooden boat, the listless Cow raised its head, its eyes fixed on the golden wheat.
Zeke picked a few stalks of freshly harvested wheat and moved them slowly in front of its eyes.
With an attraction comparable to Slaanesh, Cow's eyeballs followed the wheat, turning from left to right, up to down.
After teasing it for a while, Zeke fed the wheat to Cow.
Hearts bubbled up from Cow's body, and its critical health bar began to slowly recover.
Zeke patted its head and continued production.
After consuming nearly half of his Bone Meal reserves, he harvested a total of sixteen units of Wheat and Potatoes.
And, thanks to his "luck," he also got a useless Poisonous Potato.
With the ingredients for the sandwich gathered, Zeke rubbed his hands together. He arranged the Wheat, Eggs, and Grox Jerky according to the recipe.
Golden light burst forth. With an excited heart and trembling hands, after enduring untold hardships, Zeke finally created the [Grox Sandwich].
It was the size of a whole hand. Two slices of perfectly toasted bread sandwiched a golden, glistening fried egg and a piece of crispy, Maillard-reacted jerky.
[What a unique taste. Mod: Spice of Life (Carrot Edition), Unlocked.]
[You can now gain permanent Max Health increases by eating different types of food (every 5 types).]
Zeke stored the precious sandwich in his Inventory, then put one piece of Charcoal and eight Potatoes into the Furnace.
On the other side, Dance had managed to pile up a rough burial mound using rubble from the ruins. He knelt before it, hands clasped over his chest, whispering a prayer.
"May your souls return to the Golden Throne and enjoy eternal peace."
That probably won't work. The Emperor is currently sitting on the Golden Throne half-dead, Zeke thought, roasting potatoes while mentally roasting the situation.
A savory aroma wafted over. Dance looked up.
He saw Zeke holding a potato with skin so roasted it had cracked open, tossing it between his hands to cool it down while hissing from the heat.
"Want one?" Noticing Dance's gaze, Zeke took another one from the furnace and handed it over.
Dance hesitated for a second, then took it.
He blew on it and took a bite. The simple, pure sweetness of starch melted in his mouth.
On the wooden boat, Cow's eyes widened, watching helplessly as the two humans cruelly stuffed themselves in front of it. The wheat in its mouth suddenly didn't seem so tasty anymore.
"It smells so good." Dance took another big bite, speaking indistinctly. "I haven't eaten anything this good since I left home to join the army."
"True." Zeke agreed. Much better than Rotten Flesh.
"Mhm." Dance swallowed the food in his mouth, staring at the bonfire. "The night before I enlisted, my father prepared a bottle of amasec, some stewed cabbage with pork, and Grox meat at that old round table in our house."
He paused. "I don't know if you've ever had it, but I have to say, that was the best meat I've ever eaten in my life."
"Father got dead drunk." Dance's voice became drifting. "He pointed at me—pointed with the bottle."
Dance raised his head, looking toward the eternally leering Eye of Terror in the sky.
"'You are my pride, son!' The smile at the corner of his mouth slowly faded... 'That was the last time I saw him.'"
--
100 Powerstones = 1 Bonus Chapter.