dmims Chapter 30 Iron 7's Rebellion
Chapter 30 Iron 7's Rebellion
Salpedon pulled back his strength and kicked Menelaus to the ground.
Just now, he saw a very faint red aura of anger and belligerence emanating from Menelaus, suppressed by the real universe.
Then his ordinary weapon was completely unable to penetrate the Mark II Expeditionary Power Armor, and was actually cut a little by an old, rotten stone axe.
Even if he told his teammates about this, they would definitely think he was joking or talking nonsense.
Salpedon's greatest feeling was surprise; he did not sense even a trace of psychic energy from Menelaus.
Moreover, the other party has absolutely not systematically learned how to manipulate psionic energy. Even Salpedon only gradually mastered it after being taught by the commander of the 15th Company after joining the Legion.
Even so, the other party repeatedly emphasized that every learner should be vigilant and restrained regarding their own strength, wisdom, and knowledge.
Menelaus seemed oblivious to the breaking of his bones, the excruciating pain in his limbs and bones, and the agonizing protests of his internal organs.
He continued to brandish his stone axe, charging fearlessly toward Salpedon.
Salpedon remained calmly in place.
While it was surprising that Menelaus was able to break through his power armor, that was all.
Without the advantage of equipment, terrain, or tactics, the gap between Astartes and ordinary humans is as vast as that between armored humans and monkeys fighting to the death in a confined space.
It all depends on how many of these fearless monkeys humans want to kill.
To Sarpedon, Menelaus's powerful swing of the axe seemed ridiculously slow.
He swung his lightning claw, and the axe instantly disintegrated in mid-air, falling to the ground.
Sarpedon kicked out again, sending Menelaus flying backward, with the sound of several bones breaking.
Menelaus lay on the ground with a muffled groan, his body trembling, his eyes bloodshot and turning crimson.
His nose, ears, and mouth were bleeding from the rupture of his internal organs.
No matter how much Astartes controlled his strength, even the smallest blow to an unprotected human body would be a serious injury.
As Salpedon watched Menelaus struggle to his feet, fall, and try to get up several times, he warned him, "You will never have another chance."
He warned Menelaus, who lay on the ground, that his broken body and shattered entrails would no longer be able to support him in launching a third charge.
Every time he tried to stand up from the ground, it was a merciless, slow torture of himself with his broken bones inside.
Menelaus coughed up blood, but he still tried to get up from the ground. He grabbed the mining hammer that had fallen to the ground and held it tightly.
He stood up, and in Salpedon's fluctuating eyes, Menelaus truly rose from the ground.
His abdomen was writhing uncontrollably, and a creaking, broken sound seemed to emanate from his skin.
Menelaus leaned on his hammer, his head bowed, blood seeping from his unkempt, disheveled hair.
He gasped for breath, the stench of blood mingling with particles in the air as it filled his throat.
The more Menelaus breathed, the more intense his pain became, and the more he coughed and choked due to the itching in his throat.
Salpedon retracted his lightning claws and looked at Menelaus, a hint of anticipation in his heart.
Menelaus charged at him, a silent charge, a brave charge, a fearless charge.
His steps were unsteady and not fast compared to the previous two times, but the faint red light on his body, which seemed about to go out at any moment, intensified slightly.
This may be why he was able to act so abnormally, exceeding the limits of ordinary people, and charge towards him.
Salpedon kept this in mind.
Sensing the approaching presence behind him, Salpedon faced Menelaus directly. Instead of kicking Menelaus away as he had done before, he dodged the incoming hammer and stunned him.
While stunning Menelaus, he injected a first-aid potion into Menelaus's body.
A shadow fell.
"Looks like you had a lot of fun."
"good."
A moment of silence fell.
"Prince Paris has ordered us to assemble at his location."
Upon hearing this, Salpedon frowned, put his powered helmet back on, and carefully examined the orders from the ship's command.
"I haven't received any tactical orders from my superiors; we still need to continue our data collection and investigation mission," he said.
The other two members of their squad cast unfriendly, betrayed glances at Salpedon.
After a long silence, one of them said, "Salpedon, this is the prince's order."
"Prince Paris was not his father's son, but his father's brother, the prince of Troy."
"No," Salpedon refused firmly, "This is not Troy, but the Second Legion."
"My loyalty is to the Lord of the Legion," Salpedon emphasized, and he did not back down.
Upon hearing this, the two men, whose expressions had been unfriendly, changed their expressions slightly and fell silent for a moment.
The squad's swordsman, Onoske, sensed something was amiss and proactively continued the conversation, saying, "In that case, how should we refuse Paris?"
Salpedon coldly watched the two men, casually packing up the now-steady Menelaus, and sneered, "Didn't you ask for the reason when you received this order?"
"Our lord has never given Paris the position of battalion commander."
"He did not have the authority to summon soldiers on the eve of battle."
The two fell silent again, their breathing becoming erratic.
They didn't actually ask why; as standard Trojans, they naturally aligned themselves with the Trojans based on their status within the legion.
King Hector was the supreme leader, and Prince Paris was the second commander. Their status was naturally above that of all legion commanders. Even now, many warriors from the Irios region still habitually call Hector "King" rather than "Primarch" or "My Lord".
At least that's the case during the legion's short-term integration period.
If we absolutely must add a few more people to the two-person quota.
That would probably only be Achilles, who had become the company commander of the Ninth Company in the Second Battle Regiment of the Ninth Company.
This champion, who won the first selection of heroes, who was crowned with a laurel by King Hector in the Trojan gladiatorial arena and who slew the mechanical Minotaur, is the target of all Trojan Astartes for their noble bloodline and powerful combat strength.
As for the runner-up at the time, it was Salpedon.
Just as he thought, not many people really cared about him.
The second place winner is the biggest loser.
"I will report this matter truthfully," Salpedon said calmly.
"At the same time, we need to ask Paris why he wanted to gather the men, and also question the three company commanders and deputy company commanders who actually have this authority."
"The lives of 293 brothers should not be so carelessly risked because of their status."