Chapter 102: The Laborer and the Warhound

The golden greatsword flashed like a streak of radiant light. With a single strike, Wang Ming severed one of the Fearsome Torture Demon’s claws as it reached for him. As the demon’s claw struck the ground, Wang Ming swiftly shifted the blade and cut off the other claw with another powerful swing.

Without hesitation, Wang Ming delivered a mighty kick, toppling the Fearsome Torture Demon to the ground. He then pressed one foot firmly onto the demon’s chest. Though the demon struggled violently beneath him, no matter how hard it tried, it could not break free from Wang Ming’s grip.

“Roar! Coward! Kill me if you dare!” The Fearsome Torture Demon, now armless, bellowed in rage and desperation. It tried to bite at Wang Ming’s leg while cursing him fiercely, hoping to be slain so it could return to the subspace, resurrect, and continue the fight anew.

“How dare you insult me!” Wang Ming suddenly roared at the demon with exaggerated fury.

“What?” The Fearsome Torture Demon was momentarily stunned by Wang Ming’s outburst, but soon recovered and shouted back, “Yes! I’m insulting you! You coward, kill me already!”

The demon’s furious roar echoed, clearly yearning for death—yet no sooner had it spoken than Wang Ming retrieved a ten-meter-long refined gold staff from his inventory.

Grasping the staff with both hands, Wang Ming swung it in a wide arc, sweeping aside the surrounding demons with tremendous force. The sheer power of his gene-enhanced form sent them flying, clearing a wide area around him.

After clearing the immediate vicinity, Wang Ming turned his attention back to the Fearsome Torture Demon. He placed the refined gold staff on the ground, then pulled out two refined gold chains from his inventory. With a glance at the demon, he swiftly severed its legs with a single sword stroke.

Having crippled the demon’s lower limbs, Wang Ming then took out a massive standard emblazoned with the emblem of the Skyhawk. He tied the flag to the gold staff and used the chains to bind the demon—now reduced to a human-shaped stake—beneath the fluttering banner.

The staff was firmly planted in the earth; the Skyhawk flag billowed in the air above. Beneath it, the demon writhed and cursed, struggling madly against its chains, desperate to break free.

“Gather under the Skyhawk banner!” Wang Ming shouted to the cross-world warriors.

At his command, four thousand Astartes thundered through the demonic tide, carving a brutal path to rally beneath the flag. They positioned themselves around the Skyhawk standard, engaging the surrounding demonic horde in fierce combat.

“Hahaha! Boss, you truly are a genius!” Wang Xiaofa laughed heartily as he looked at the bound Fearsome Torture Demon beneath the banner.

“Hahaha! Torture! You crippled goblin and you still dare challenge me! Come on!” Wang Ming laughed loudly in response, then bellowed at the raging tide of demons.

“Damn, Wang, I really didn’t come here of my own accord!” On a nearby ruined building, Wang Qing, clad in blood-red armor, muttered to himself as he watched the battle.

“If you slack off again this time, I’ll tear you to pieces!” Behind Wang Qing, a voice filled with boundless fury sounded. He turned to see a massive figure and casually replied, “Yes, yes, my esteemed Blood Prince. I’ll follow your orders this battle. You’re my big brother.”

Though Wang Qing spoke obediently, inwardly he had already planned how he’d be thrown by Wang Ming and what position he’d take. There was no way he’d work for Torture—never in this life. He’d fish for opportunities to slack off whenever possible.

After the Second Terra, when Torture dragged him back to his realm, Wang Qing was thrown into the gladiator arena where eight Fearsome Torture Demons took turns hacking him until he was numb.

“Hmph!” The massive figure snorted with disdain and approached Wang Qing’s side, gazing at Wang Ming on the battlefield.

“I’ll mount your head as my greatest trophy on my armor, my dear brother!” The Blood Prince declared, already imagining how, once he slew Wang Ming, he’d smear his blood across his armor and hang Wang Ming’s head as a gruesome ornament.

“Brothers! Sing with me! Torture is a damn fool~” In the ranks of the cross-world warriors, Feng Fan—the unofficial priest of the Starry Crossers—carried a massive speaker, blasting out the “Imperial Creed.” He shouted cheerfully at the warriors.

“Torture is a damn fool~” The four thousand warriors echoed in unison, their voices perfectly synchronized and rhythmic.

As they sang, the subspace storm overhead twisted violently. Blood-red lightning formed a gigantic maw in the void, roaring furiously at the cross-world warriors.

“Hahaha! Brothers! Look! It’s angry! It’s angry!” Feng Fan mocked the lightning from the crowd, waving his arms excitedly while pointing at the sky.

Unnoticed by Feng Fan, a massive figure suddenly charged down from the heavens, crashing into him and barreling into the midst of the warriors. The force sent many flying, carving out a vacuum zone. The giant slowly rose, clutching the struggling Feng Fan tightly in its enormous hand.

“Roar!” The Blood Prince bellowed, crushing Feng Fan into a pulp with a clenched fist. He tossed the mangled remains to the ground and then hurled something else toward Wang Ming with his other hand.

“Why is it every time we meet, I’m the one being thrown?” Wang Qing grumbled as he was flung through the air.

“Damn, this scene feels so familiar,” Wang Ming thought as he watched Wang Qing hurtling toward him. Like during the Second Terra War, he raised his palm and slapped Wang Qing down to the ground.

“Brother Wang, please use your full strength to knock me away—stronger the better! You can even kill me outright; I just want to get back to slacking off in the subspace.” Wang Qing pleaded anxiously from the ground, adamant that he’d never work for Torture.

“All right, here goes!” Wang Ming responded, delivering a powerful kick that sent Wang Qing soaring through a distant building, crashing through it and flying toward the horizon.

“Torture’s goblin, don’t think I’ll work for you—no way!” Wang Qing yelled mid-air, beginning his journey of idleness.

“Wow, I’m this strong?” Wang Ming marveled as he watched Wang Qing vanish into the sky, then turned his gaze to Angron.

Originally, Angron had planned to kill Wang Ming after tossing Wang Qing away, but he found himself surrounded by layers of cross-world warriors.

Though Angron’s attacks were devastating, the warriors’ ability to resurrect infinitely meant they kept returning to fight like rabid dogs, relentlessly charging him again and again.

While Angron’s status as a demon prince meant he felt little damage from their attacks, the sheer endless numbers of the cross-world warriors kept him tied down, unable to reach Wang Ming.

“Send your primal form to fight me one-on-one! Is he a coward?!” Angron roared, wielding a chainsaw axe in one hand and a black-bladed greatsword in the other, cleaving through the warriors around him.

The warriors did not respond, only charging fearlessly. Seeing the unending tide before him, Angron swung wildly, shredding all in front of him to bits, then charged at Wang Ming through the blood and scattered limbs.

Like a maddened warhound, Angron rushed forward, and Wang Ming raised his powered sword to meet him head-on.

Angron swung broadly, cleaving the warriors blocking his path in two, then charged at Wang Ming.

“Bang!” The golden greatsword met the chainsaw axe and black blade with a deafening clash. The encounter was explosive; in mere seconds, Wang Ming and Angron had exchanged dozens of blows.

The combat speed of their gene-enhanced forms was so rapid that neither space marines nor mortals could follow it with their eyes. The cross-world warriors only sensed a brief distortion in the air before hearing the thunderous clangs.

“Damn, that speed, that strength…” Wang Ming gritted his teeth, matching Angron’s ferocity with all his might. Yet he was not without preparation.

Seizing a fleeting opening in Angron’s assault, Wang Ming swiftly slashed at Angron’s weapon, pushing him back slightly.

Taking advantage of the moment, Wang Ming reached for his waist, drawing a plasma pistol designed for primal forms. With sword in one hand and plasma pistol in the other, he prepared to blast Angron’s face.

Wang Ming knew his half-baked gene-enhanced form could never outmatch Angron, who had fought for over ten thousand years. He had to rely on tactics. Since learning his opponent was Angron, he’d prepared numerous “surprises” on his person—dozens of thermite mines, several Golden Age automatic laser turrets, and more—ready to spring on Angron when he recovered.

Wang Ming slashed toward Angron again. As Angron blocked with his black blade and prepared to strike with the chainsaw axe, Wang Ming crouched down, raised the plasma pistol, aimed at Angron’s head, and fired.

The plasma orb exploded against Angron’s face.

“Roar!” Angron bellowed, seemingly unfazed by the blast, though his vision was momentarily obscured. Seizing this moment, Wang Ming swung his golden greatsword toward Angron’s neck.

Just as the blade grazed Angron’s skin, Angron retaliated with a backhanded slash of the black blade. Wang Ming quickly withdrew and retreated.

Wang Ming sighed in frustration as Angron wildly slashed with closed eyes. His previous strike had begun to break down Angron’s flesh at the molecular level. If not for Angron’s reckless defense, Wang Ming could have banished him back to subspace with that blow.

Meanwhile, as Wang Ming and Angron clashed, the Devourers’ Chaos Space Marines arrived to support their lord. The Devourers engaged the cross-world warriors, and under the combined assault of the Fearsome Torture Demons and the Devourers, the warriors were once driven back, creating a vacuum zone exploited by the demons and Chaos Marines.

However, after revival, the warriors pushed back fiercely. This unprecedented situation revealed a problem: the warriors could be overwhelmed, but only under very stringent conditions.

To defeat the cross-world warriors, one required a force greater in number and strength.

Yet even if that happened, it would only be a one-time victory. Next would come the fully equipped and formidable cross-world warriors in full force.

Having updated on the warriors’ situation, let us return our gaze to Wang Ming.

Standing at a cautious distance from Angron, Wang Ming watched the enraged demon swinging wildly with bloodshot eyes. He dared not approach the frenzied Angron.

During this time, Wang Ming had set several “little surprises” around Angron—dozens of thermite mines, Golden Age laser turrets, and the like—ready to unleash when Angron recovered and charged.

Yawning, Wang Ming browsed his system inventory for a weapon capable of crushing Angron.

Suddenly, Angron’s eyes snapped open, glowing blood red. Fixating on Wang Ming, he roared and charged with furious intent to sever Wang Ming’s head.

“Damn!” Wang Ming was startled but quickly retrieved the gene-specific thermite cannon he had been examining and fired a blast at Angron.

The battle was about to reach a new, deadly crescendo.