Chapter 56: Delivering Ultimate Bliss to the Tyranids and Meeting the Deathwatch

This time, Rod planned to give the Tyranids a grand surprise, one that would utterly devastate them!

After pulling out the massive cosmic robot iron block, his mechanical Ultraman Ace effectively reset the cooldown on its ultimate skill.

The iron block itself had the ability to absorb energy—it could draw in the Tyranids’ firepower and even extract energy from the surrounding stars.

Moreover, the iron block could be enhanced from scratch, rapidly restoring energy to recharge Mechanical Ace.

This time, the Tyranids would find it nearly impossible to survive!

Did they really think that by hiding at astronomical distances, they’d be out of reach? That they had no countermeasures? Think again!

This time, I won’t wait even a day between strikes! Only a few hours remain before the Tyranids retreat.

Aren’t you the Devourer? Well, I’m about to make you submit!

Soon, Sister Elena, having quickly donned her gear, met with Rod on the bridge.

“Lord Rod, I’m ready. Let’s depart immediately!”

“Elena, I have something important to entrust to you. My identity is crucial and must remain hidden from the Empire’s public for now. Our actions must be covert. Our sole mission is to save this planet.

I don’t need the Empire’s people to know who saved them. I don’t need to be remembered or praised.

So once we descend, all negotiations are to be handled by me. You must not reveal any information about me, understood?” Rod said firmly.

For now, his identity had to remain secret; every move had to be meticulously planned.

“I understand, Lord Rod. I will follow your orders completely,” Elena nodded.

Rod nodded in approval, and together they loaded the remaining equipment onto their ship.

Rod then piloted a small Pedan spaceship away from the Pedan mothership, heading toward the ruined city below.

After a dozen minutes, Rod’s Pedan ship landed above a desolate ruin.

The surviving soldiers of the Death Watch, upon hearing the noise, immediately rushed out.

They frowned at the sight of the golden-red, disc-shaped ship—it didn’t resemble any standard Imperial transport!

Several interstellar warriors, still clutching grenade pistols, had even chambered rounds.

But the Death Watch’s deputy officer shook his head, ordering everyone to holster their grenades.

“Commander, what if… what if they’re aliens?” one soldier nervously asked.

“That golden, warm light cannot be faked—that is the Emperor’s radiance,” the deputy officer said.

“If they truly are those damned aliens, then we will fight them to the death, our souls returning to the Golden Throne,” a member of the Blood Angels grinned.

The ship’s hatch slowly opened, and Rod and Sister Elena appeared before them.

Seeing their attire, the Death Watch’s hostility noticeably lessened.

Rod wore the official armor of an Imperial Commissar, while Elena was clad in a medical sister’s armor—both donned Imperial gear, though the weapons they held were unfamiliar.

But at least they were human; that much was certain.

“You don’t seem like a living Saint!” the Death Watch’s deputy officer spoke up.

He had expected someone with massive wings on their back, bathed in golden light—a living Saint.

The living Saints were said to look like that; the legendary Celestine appeared just so, often active on battlefields between the Empire and the aliens.

“Astartes, before you stands a chosen of the great Emperor; there is no reason for doubt,” Rod revealed the Emperor’s golden psychic light, his eyes glowing with gold, radiating an unimaginable brilliance.

This sight genuinely startled the Death Watch soldiers.

“By the Emperor, are you truly one of the chosen?” one soldier asked.

“Without a doubt. I am the chosen. I can prove it to you—your Chaplain once communicated with me.

However, my identity is highly sensitive, so I could not disclose details. But upon learning of your plight, I came to aid you.

Your Chaplain asked me to send a distress signal, but by the Emperor’s will, I came personally to rescue you,” Rod explained.

“That’s confirmed. Chaplain Magro said before losing consciousness that he spoke with a man radiating the Emperor’s light.

I never expected you would come to save us in person,” the deputy officer nodded.

Now he was certain of Rod’s identity. After all, no heretic could infiltrate the Stellar Court.

If someone radiates the Emperor’s light, no explanation exists besides being one of His chosen.

“My identity is very important, Astartes. I will lead you on this mission and provide you with a new weapon, one forged in the glorious Golden Age.

But remember, everything you see today and the mission you undertake is the Empire’s highest secret. You must not mention any of it to anyone,” Rod said.

Thanks to the Inquisition, the Grey Knights, and other secret Imperial organizations, the Empire harbors countless secrets.

To safeguard these secrets, it would not hesitate to exterminate an entire planet’s population.

As long as Rod told these Astartes that his identity was Imperial classified information, they would not pry further.

“I understand, great chosen of the Emperor! Command us as you will!

The Emperor’s Death Angels will faithfully carry out your orders—it is our honor,” the Death Watch members nodded in unison, placing their hands on their chests in salute.

“First, tend to the wounded and bring your Chaplain aboard. There is a small medical bay inside the ship that can heal his injuries,” Rod gestured for the Death Watch soldiers to carry Chaplain Magro aboard.

“Great chosen of the Emperor, besides our Chaplain, some of our brothers have fallen into a state of suspended death. Can your medical instruments restore them?” the deputy officer asked.

When Space Marines suffer grievous wounds, one of the nineteen augmentations—the meningeal enhancement—allows them to enter a state of suspended death.

This state can last for years, even decades, requiring the regiment’s apothecaries to revive and heal them.

During their previous battles with the Tyranids, many brothers had entered this suspended death state.