To be honest, in the environment of human society, Karen is not that comfortable. After all, even an Ork does not like to hide his face, although they have never doubted the tightly wrapped guy next to them. It's an Ork.
But one thing that makes Karen feel good about humans is that they don't get beaten for no reason - most of the time.
What's more important is that in his opinion, Rozim is a very reliable boss, and there is nothing to worry about following him up the mountain of swords and into the sea of fire.
Therefore, this operation will look like usual to him. Rozim will defeat those weirdos with his outmaneuver and easily kill them all.
This was indeed the case. After they broke through many obstacles, they found a gathering of wizards in a hall full of blood.
Karen hates psychic boys very much, and naturally also hates psychic shrimps.
After a brief but fierce exchange of fire, most of the members of the Secret Order lay dead on the ground. A few panicked survivors tried to escape along the corridor. They could no longer put up any resistance and were shot down one by one from behind.
"It went very well. After fighting for so long, we are all hungry."
As he sheathed his cleaver, Rozim twitched his nose slightly, oddly, as he often did.
For a chef, even if he is deeply involved in the most intense battle, he has to put down what he is doing when he urgently needs a little energy.
"Fire! Get some food!"
"Ah, boss, this-"
Hank Evans looked around sadly.
Blood, bones, devil totems, and corpses all over the ground didn't look like a good picnic spot.
"How about changing to another place?"
"This damn place is the same as anywhere else. It's clean enough here, but there are no moving things——"
Before Rozim finished speaking, the corpse of a wizard more than ten meters away from him suddenly bounced on the ground, and a pink tentacle burst out from his chest.
The cook turned his head and fired, turning the body to ashes along with its tentacles.
"Okay, now it's really gone."
Hank Evans rubbed his head helplessly and took out the portable self-heating stove, and then the pots and pans.
Sinlata, who was still wearing sunglasses, was sitting on a rock, with her arms crossed and the black knife in her arms. She didn't know what she was thinking.
After eliminating this group of wizards, he was no longer in a hurry.
Rozim took out a pile of semi-processed ingredients and began to cook his large plate stew, smacking his lips and mumbling from time to time.
"It would be nice if I had a little wine, misstep, misstep..."
Karen was stunned for a moment. He remembered that when he rushed past the servants' quarters, he noticed a kitchen and was sure that he could find it back. That place might--
When Rozim lowered his head and began to season it, he immediately sneaked away to find it.
The chaotic layout of this underground space was a little confusing, but he easily found the object of his exploration. He just had to follow the scars caused by the battle, the pits made by the laser on the wall, and the many burnt tapestries. Or the occasional scattered piece of intricate inlaid table top marking the way back to the entrance.
Most of the tables had once been covered with glassware, but little remained intact, especially around the frag grenade explosions, where carpets were covered in scorch marks and walls and furniture were riddled with holes.
It didn't take long for the opulent furnishings to give way to the stark simplicity of the servants' quarters, although Karen wasn't expecting to encounter the waiters - most of them ran away screaming at the first appearance of the four, and those Those who were not immediately knocked off their feet stayed with their complicit masters and quickly became deflated.
As a skilled mechanic, Keren was expected to remain alert, ready to raise his blaster at a moment's notice.
The surviving cultists were almost certainly gone by now, but some might be hiding, hoping to escape once the noise subsided.
Thinking like this, he finally saw his target. Behind a half-open door, there were neatly arranged pots and pans.
When he was about to go in, he hesitated and pricked up his ears.
Someone was talking inside, and the cadence of the voice was undoubtedly the rhythm of chanting.
"You are one gram, one gram, one gram, one gram..."
Kron didn't know what that meant, but there was no need to know, it sounded like something from the warp, which didn't bode well and might even get them into trouble.
He realized he'd better stop it now, and he needed to use that kitchen, too bad it was currently occupied by the enemy.
Crane readied his big gun and rushed behind the door, his eyes darting left and right in search of his target.
He guessed right, someone was performing a subspace ritual: a tall, dark-skinned man wearing an expensive-looking robe and a lot of jewelry. While waving his arms, his lips sprayed. Talk nonsense.
"......Ah↑ah↓ah↓ah↓ah↓ah↑ah↓ah↓!"
This loud and noisy man seemed to have a beastly fire in his eyes. After he looked up and saw the unexpected intruder, his mouth twisted into a grimace of disgust, as if he had just discovered something dirty on the soles of his shoes.
Keren's finger tightened on the trigger of the big gun, but before he could pull it, the air between them exploded, and it sounded—
Like the biggest fart in the galaxy.
And it smells pretty much the same.
In the blink of an eye, a thing with eyes, mouths and teeth stepped across the cracks in reality, swung half a dozen whip-like tentacles toward him, and made a weird cry——
"Whoosh!"
"Get rid of this scum."
The disdain in the wizard's words can drip off like the raw matter from a newly revealed subspace creature.
"Dry!"
Karen also growled and pulled the trigger of the gun.
The demon staggered back, wailing in pain, and a terrible wave of heat cut it in half.
Kellen has been struggling for so many years, but it is far from the real troublesome things he has encountered. When he followed the army of Bonebreakers through the subspace, he also saw a red body with wings. There was a huge man dozens of meters tall, and a weird thing with two heads and feathers all over it.
According to his experience, the so-called subspace demons are not as troublesome as Rozim said.
“Oyster, not oyster~~”
After a few more shots, and with a loud bang, the warp evil suddenly disappeared, driven back into the strange realm that the psykers had torn apart.
Karen turned and took a quick glance at the rest of the kitchen.
The psyker was still standing in front of the fire, a look of astonishment on his face, mumbling another series of mysterious syllables.
"Damn it, let me see what's in your brain! Become my puppet!"
Green witch fire rose from his raised fist. Karen felt something lightly hit his head, so he took a step forward.
And the witch fire flickered, like a candle in the wind, and went out.
"Damn it! You are actually a green-skinned person!!! How can there be green-skinned people here?"
"Go to hell!"
Karen fired at the man, erasing the man's stunned expression with one shot.
Then he stepped over the convulsing body, slung the weapon behind his back, opened a cabinet with his free hands, and after rummaging for a while, he found a black glass bottle and shook it.
There was a rattling sound in the bottle.
Then he pulled out the cork and smelled it. It was indeed wine.
Karen thought he was lucky, so he returned to the original place with the bottle.
"Where have you been?"
Rozim was pouring food onto the plate, and it tasted delicious, albeit muddled by the smell of blood around it.
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