185: Chapter 189 You think the Imperial Inquisition is a joke?

The slaughter in the vacuum entered its final liquidation phase.

Twelve porcelain-white Moonsong-class Star Cruisers now resembled twelve floating giant coffins.

The hull armor, once shimmering with the faint light of magic arrays, had been brutally torn open with countless charred gashes by the Stormtroopers using crude melta bombs and chainswords.

Inside the main bridge, the last High Elf Archon was cut in half at the waist by a bolt shell.

The Inquisitor stood amidst a floor of severed limbs and shattered crystal displays; his dark red cloak was completely soaked with the blue blood of the xenos.

That red-flickering bionic eye finally stopped its rapid scanning rotations after confirming that not a single pointy-eared alien was still breathing.

He slowly turned around.

Behind him were mutated Astartes, crowding the entire bridge and even spilling out into the corridors.

These black giants had displayed chilling efficiency during the recent massacre, but the high-intensity combat had also completely triggered the [Abyssal Star Beast Venom-Sac Dead-Flesh] code fused within their bodies.

From the edges of their heavy masterwork armor grew pale bone spikes that did not conform to standard patterns;

From the respiratory vents behind their faceplates, they exhaled a green miasma with faint corrosive properties.

The heavy tread chassis of Number Fourteen holy dreadnought mech pressed down at the corridor entrance; its pair of armor-piercing alloy claws had even sprouted a few twisted buds of flesh.

A crusade against the aliens had ended.

But in the cold and harsh dogmas of purity within the Warhammer universe, this was only the first half.

The Inquisitor slowly raised the brass Holy Hammer Sigil in his right hand, while the melta sword in his left hand hummed with charging power, its blade glowing with a deadly white light due to the extreme temperature.

“The external filth has been purged.”

On his withered, bone-like face, there was no mercy for these comrades-in-arms who had fought by his side. That bionic eye projected a cold, fan-shaped red light, scanning directly across the scarred and slightly bone-shifted face of Recruit Number One at the very front.

“Now, face the corruption deep within your souls.”

The Inquisitor's voice echoed through the channel in the deathly silent bridge, devoid of any human warmth.

“Your bodies have been poisoned by Chaos and the Unnamed Abyss. The final manifestation of loyalty is to surrender your lives and wash away the profanity in the flames.”

The atmosphere instantly dropped to freezing point.

Three thousand mutated Astartes froze in place. The loyalty imprints at their core prevented them from immediately raising their guns against this Inquisitor who represented the highest theocratic oversight; yet the violent Star Beast genes and the high-dimensional pollution forcibly injected by Li Cang were frantically stimulating their killing instincts.

On the holographic screen, the green cursors representing this batch of troops began to flash yellow frantically, followed by a large-scale activation of red lights.

[Warning: Unit is in a state of severe logical paradox.]

[Loyalty determination and survival instinct have entered a deadlock conflict.]

[Estimated outbreak of uncontrolled internal frenzied massacre in seven seconds.]

Li Cang leaned back comfortably in the shock-absorbing chair of the Death Star Fortress's core command room.

Across the vast vacuum and through the extremely thick blast-proof glass, he watched this classic Warhammer-style traditional drama of 'burning the bridge after crossing' and 'purging the house' play out on the large screen.

If it were a Commander from any other civilization, seeing three thousand elite troops they had painstakingly matured with high-grade nutrient solution about to be forcibly scrapped by the system-spawned internal affairs police, they would likely be smashing their keyboard in a panic or trying every possible way to save the situation.

But in Li Cang's eyes, there wasn't a hint of heartache.

He even held a cup of tasteless synthetic water, coldly admiring the Inquisitor's condescending, god-like demeanor.

“If you snatch a knife and it gets dull and rusty, do you keep it for New Year's if you don't throw it away?”

Li Cang set down his water cup, his hands resting steadily on the supreme authority console.

By now, the core engine of Mining Planet No. 3 had completely run dry, and the perimeter of this defensive zone was marked like a giant red lantern by the high bounty The Chess Player had broadcasted across the entire map. The next wave of the main fleet, truly carrying sector-destroying weapons, could warp in and hit them at any moment following the trail of wreckage left by these twelve Cruisers.

It was time for him to move.

But moving required a 'super RV'—one big enough, tough enough to house the battle axe heavy cruiser, and capable of rampaging across the great map.

Li Cang's gaze drew a massive red selection box on the screen.

This box encompassed the twelve broken but fundamentally excellent High Elf Star Cruisers floating in space, the Inquisitor preparing to press the execution button with a grand speech, the hundred cold Stormtroopers, and the full three thousand mutated Astartes and dreadnought mechs on the verge of going berserk.

In the resource accounting table of Li Cang, this high-dimensional observer, these were not living soldiers in the midst of a tragedy.

They were purely a pile of high-purity psionic metal skeletons, a heap of high-tier Fuel of souls with extreme fanatical faith, plus a large amount of high-dimensional flesh that had been perfectly mutated and catalyzed.

“Judging the case?” Li Cang’s finger hovered for a second over the black button labeled [Civilization Crucible: Global Mass-Energy Forced Remolding].

Then, with a merciless and extremely cold-blooded decisiveness, he pressed down hard.

“Go into the furnace and serve as my reinforced concrete.”

In space.

The Inquisitor had just raised his melta sword high, and the syllables of the first prayer of purification had only just begun to roll halfway in his throat.

From the battle axe heavy cruiser and the entire remaining chassis array of Mining Planet No. 3, a circle of unprecedented dark gold light erupted, instantly freezing even the surrounding asteroid belt.

That was the forced reclamation light from the system's supreme Commander authority.

There was no tragic infighting, nor any struggle between faith and mutation.

Under that dark gold pillar of light representing the 'dissolution of absolute physical rules,' within this locked bubble of space—

The porcelain-white armor of the twelve warships acted like butter thrown into high-temperature molten iron, turning into pure flows of light in less than a second. Elf technology, the Inquisitor's fanaticism, Astartes muscle, and Star Beast toxins—

Under Li Cang's unreasonable ultimate squeezing, even the right to struggle or make a sound was stripped away.

All material and non-material concepts collided, intertwined, and shattered violently in the void.

Within the energy vortex, so vast it caused the Death Star's outer gravity to fall into a brief vacuum, a massive card appeared. It radiated an epic, heavy black glow, its edges inlaid with a strange mixture of crude Warhammer rivets and elegant Elven psionic arrays.

It slowly took shape and descended above the operator's cabin.

[Obtained Legendary Grade Building/Vehicle Amphibious Base Blueprint: Exile Void Fortress.]

[Traits: Fuses elegant micro-warp engines with violent flesh-and-blood defense. Can carry conventional fleet groups for full-silent long-distance warp jumps. Capacity limit: Million-level population scale.]

Li Cang didn't even look at the clean patch of space outside where not even a speck of dust remained.

This was the true meaning of the black-eating-black, devouring everything down to the bone.

He stood up, directly deleted the last remaining coordinates representing the 'Death Star Fortress' on the system operation panel, and slapped that high-tier blueprint—freshly brewed from an entire ragtag army and enemy chassis—into the base slot.

Deep within Mining Planet No. 3, following one last imperceptible tremor,

A dark metal behemoth, dozens of times larger than the battle axe heavy cruiser, carrying a belly full of supplies and plundered wealth, completely severed its connection with this land.

“You guys can take your time blowing up this worthless rock.”

Li Cang turned and walked toward the central connection bridge of the battle axe heavy cruiser. “Time for a new server to keep doing business.”