Steel & Oil: Warhammer 32K

Three days had passed since their return to camp. With all the preparatory work finally squared away, Lin could at last turn his attention to forging the weapon he had in mind.

Lin's golden finger had never been a system — it was knowledge. Knowledge drawn from other worlds, expressed in the form of original blueprints from those other worlds. How to transpose those blueprints into the Warhammer universe and reconstruct them in ways that world's technology could actually achieve — that was the test of Lin's own ability.

The schematics he had drawn on most heavily were from StarCraft. Part of the reason was simple: StarCraft technology slotted into the Warhammer universe without feeling out of place. But it was also because those designs were, on a technical level, more feasible to realise. The Protoss, for instance, were masters of psionic power, and their Energy Shields could be replicated in Warhammer using standard power-supply equipment. The Solar-Powered Warblade's core mechanism, meanwhile, had been solved by soulstones salvaged from Protoss ruins.

As for the weapons and equipment of Monster Hunter — Lin had blueprints for those too. He had simply always assumed that such wildly different-looking gear would be useless in the Warhammer setting.

Then he crash-landed on a Monster Hunter planet, stripped hides off the local fauna, and discovered that the materials were as hard as adamantium and, with a little sharpening, could hold an edge that rivalled a monomolecular blade. The Lin who had once dismissed those blueprints as worthless could only shake his head at his own short-sightedness.

At the same time, a new resolve took shape within him: he would forge something stronger. Far stronger.

He wasn't going to craft some ordinary, run-of-the-mill Power Sword. He was going to fuse the underlying principles of Power Sword construction with the Monster Hunter blueprints — and create a legendary weapon bearing the unmistakable hallmarks of the Warhammer universe. He wanted whoever wielded this blade to carve out a name so glorious it would still be sung ten thousand years hence.

Fortunately, the Power Sword left behind in camp was no masterwork. The other elements mixed into the adamantium had lowered its melting point, making it far less difficult to liquefy than Lin had expected. He stripped the fusion-heating unit from the plasma engine and repurposed it as a small furnace, then spent several days reducing the sword to molten metal.

The process should have taken longer — but Lin made an unexpected discovery: the Felynes possessed a remarkable natural affinity with Machine Spirits. He taught them a set of soothing rites, and under their ministrations the engine ran at full power, accelerating his entire timeline considerably.

Under Lin's direction, a handful of Felynes carefully poured the molten adamantium into the tachi mould he had prepared in advance. Lin picked up his forging hammer.

This was not the Warhammer way of doing things. He was working from Monster Hunter blueprints stored in his memory, following that world's corresponding smithing methods. The assembled officers who had been invited to watch understood that the forging had now begun in earnest, and every one of them held their breath.

Lin started with the adamantium as his base material, hammering the gradually solidifying liquid metal drawn from the mould into a clean, well-balanced shape fit for gripping. Once he was satisfied that the sword's core was sound, he brought out Rathalos hide and scales — materials taken from a female Rathalos the Astartes had once hunted.

Strictly speaking, the Monster Hunter blueprints called for a female Rathalos's poison gland at this stage to forge the corresponding tachi, 'Green Leaf.' But the poison glands had not been preserved by the Astartes, who had known precious little about these creatures at the time.

Yet a blueprint is not a cage. As Lin worked with his own hands, the rigid schematics began to breathe and live. The step-by-step smithing knowledge that had once sat flat on a page started to flow together in his mind, fluid and connected.

Enjoying that sensation, Lin decided to reshape the tachi according to his own understanding. He reached for Bazelgeuse scales, along with melted plasteel and ceramite.

Plasteel was an Imperial composite of heat-absorbing plastic and metal. Ceramite was the Empire's answer to energy weapons — a material that could absorb and disperse energy impacts. Both were pillars of Imperial materials science, deployed throughout every pattern of powered armour. And in their excellent energy-conduction properties, Lin saw the potential for a new role: intermediate medium.

He applied thin coatings of melted plasteel and ceramite over the adamantium, then worked in the Bazelgeuse scales alongside collected Bazelgeuse fluids.

The instant the Bazelgeuse scales contacted the scorching metal, a violent explosion tore through the air. Tongues of flame surged upward, and everyone present flinched instinctively — everyone except Lin. He knew they had reached the critical moment. He raised his forging hammer high, stepped into the fire, and hammered the tachi blank again and again, relentlessly.

"From the fury of the beast — steel, protect us!"

The first hammer blow fell, quelling the flames born from the Bazelgeuse scale explosion and reshaping the blank that the blast had slightly deformed.

"From the ravaging of the destroyer — soul, shelter us!"

The second blow struck. The Power Sword's original Machine Spirit was still fighting to preserve its existence, and under its stubborn will the savage energies began to calm. Flame started to flow along the blade, channelled by the ceramite coating.

Seeing his moment, Lin produced polished Rathalos wing-talons and carapace pieces. He pressed the carapace against the lower half of the half-molten blade, then slotted the wing-talons into the recesses he had left in the carapace and fixed them in place with molten plasteel. Three savage Rathalos claws now jutted from the blade. Lin swung the hammer again, ensuring the materials would fuse perfectly with the body of the weapon.

"In flesh there is no unchanging truth — only decay."

"In flesh there is no eternal strength — only weakness."

Lin set down the forging hammer. He had beaten flesh and bone into a blade of cold steel — but the will of the monsters still clung to those materials. Now he had to imprison that will within iron and steel, awaken the entirely new Machine Spirit born from its union with the Rathalos's own will, and bring this weapon to completion.

"From the rotting cage of flesh—" Lin raised both hands and sang out in a ringing voice: "Machine Spirit — set us free!"

The temperature of the forge had already begun to drop. Even so, a tongue of flame suddenly erupted from the finished blade, and within it one could faintly hear the roar of a Rathalos. But before long the roar fell silent, and the forging flames were snuffed out as though the tachi had swallowed them whole. Only the blade remained, lying quietly in the forge, its cold surface gleaming with a still light, waiting for a hunter's grip.

Lin stepped forward and wrapped his hand around the tachi's hilt. He could sense a faint wildness in the blade — a resistance, as though it was pushing back against him — but his nature as a Blank left it with nowhere to go. That reaction, however, delighted him. Only a Machine Spirit powerful enough to survive contact with a Blank without being extinguished could ever truly master a weapon this untamed.

He lifted the tachi and carried it over to the assembled observers.

"Wyvern Blade 'Red Leaf' — that's what I'm naming it." He held the weapon up for everyone to see. "By rights, a blade like this should go to the most celebrated hunter in your company. But he's inside the Dreadnought now — no use for a weapon like this anymore."

"Give it to Admir," the Hunter said.

Every gaze shifted to Admir.

"There's no one better suited than Admir." The others agreed with the Hunter's choice — but Admir himself had reservations.

"I don't need a powerful weapon to amplify my capabilities." He spoke stubbornly. Though command responsibility had long been his to bear, his skill as the company's champion had never grown dull. "Give it to one of the other brothers — that's where this blade will find its greatest worth."

"No. Its greatest worth is right here."

The Hunter Dreadnought rejected Admir's argument. He tilted his massive helm upward with what sounded like a long sigh, as though reaching back through years of hard-won memory. After a long moment, he spoke, his voice low and measured:

"I want you to inherit my identity. To become the new Hunter."

Deputy Aibo, Lieutenant Vigan, and Sergeant Arlo received this without a flicker of surprise. They had clearly seen it coming. Only Admir showed genuine shock. "Inherit the Hunter's name... but why, Captain? Are you saying you intend to—"

"I'm already in the Dreadnought, Admir."

The Hunter Dreadnought cut him off. "Even in a Dreadnought's sarcophagus, the neural links that drive this frame scour my consciousness every moment of every day. I am no longer capable of leading you for long stretches of time. I will not leave — but my role as captain and leader must come to an end."

"Perhaps when there are great decisions to be made, we could still wake you to deliberate together—"

"Do not cling to the past, Admir. Even the most glorious history is still only history. New futures must be led by new hands."

The Dreadnought's voice dropped further. "Admir — I was entombed in this sarcophagus, entombed within a Great Crusade that ended long ago. I am very tired. All that sustains me now are the unfinished vendettas between our gene-father and ourselves. You all once followed the Hunter and left the Legion — but the Hunter is gone now. All that remains is a shadow of former days, buried inside a Dreadnought."

Admir said nothing. He had anticipated this moment — had simply been unwilling to accept it. Deputy Aibo spoke gently beside him: "But a company born from the Hunter cannot exist without a Hunter. That is precisely why we need someone to step forward and continue to lead us in the Hunter's name."

"Is this what all of you think? Did you discuss this beforehand?" Admir asked, exhaling.

"No discussion. But you have led us across this planet from the very beginning to where we stand now — and I don't think anyone here can think of someone more suited than you."

Lin watched the transfer of authority from the side. The tachi he had forged was no longer merely a weapon — it had become the symbol of the Hunter's identity. Seeing Admir's gaze fall on the Wyvern Blade 'Red Leaf,' Lin simply held it out to him.

"Do you remember the tech-sergeant who hugged a thermal melta bomb, sacrificed himself, and hoped you'd keep everyone moving forward?" Lin tilted his head toward the blade, signalling Admir to take it. "The core of this sword is built almost entirely from the materials his sacrifice secured."

That was the final weight that tipped the scales. The uncertainty in Admir's eyes gave way to resolve. He took the Wyvern Blade 'Red Leaf' — and with it, the identity and duty of the Hunter.

"Captain — you may have made your peace with the past, but I will still remember you. Not only as a battle-brother of the Legion, but as the boy who was once dragged from a monster's claws by your hand, and who joined the Legion because of it." Admir's voice was solemn. "I will take up the Hunter's name. I will lead everyone off this planet, track down whatever traces our gene-father has left across the galaxy, and see our mission against the xenos through to its end — whatever that end may be."

The Hunter Dreadnought let out a satisfied sound, low and rumbling. And Admir, having taken up the mantle of leadership, stepped into his new role without hesitation. He slung the tachi across his back and turned his gaze to Lin:

"To reclaim the derelict void-ship, we will have to contend with a dragon — and with the World Soul itself. Chaplain Lin, that blade is magnificent, but I trust you haven't prepared only one legendary weapon."

Lin suddenly felt very much like a blacksmith's shopkeeper.

He clapped his hands. A troop of Felynes promptly shuffled in carrying the various items he had prepared earlier — an assorted collection that included a suit of armour, a bolt-thrower mounted on a carriage, and a small wooden hand-cart.

"Which would you like to start with?"

"Ah..."

The gravity of the moment had been thoroughly undercut the instant all this miscellaneous gear was hauled in. Admir hesitated, then decided to start with the one that at least looked official: "What is the story with this armour — the one covered entirely in fangs?"

"Reforged from an existing suit of powered armour using Tigrex materials. You can call it the Tigrex Armour Set."

Lin introduced his pride and joy with full confidence: "The torso plating only has Tigrex hide stitched over it, but the pauldrons, knee-plates, and gauntlets have all been properly recast — I've armed them with Tigrex wing-talons and fangs, and I've reshaped the exhaust vents on the power pack into the reverse-barbed form of Tigrex horns. Even if you switch to a different suit of powered armour later, all of this can be adapted over with a little reworking. What do you think?"

"It's not that I object, it's just—" Admir stared at the armour bristling with fangs from every surface, and at the helmet — originally fitted with a standard horizontal eye-slit — which now had tall, upswept Tigrex-style crests flanking both sides. "Isn't this silhouette a little too... xenos-looking?"

"Wear it and you'll have the strength of a Tigrex. Goes perfectly with the Wyvern Blade 'Red Leaf,' too." Lin glanced at him sideways. "Anything else to add?"

"I have no objections."

Admir's aesthetic complaints were immediately and thoroughly abandoned.

Lieutenant Vigan, responsible for ranged fire support, had meanwhile fixed his attention on the bolt-thrower. He studied the contraption with a furrowed brow — the thing looked as though it had been dragged forward from the 31st Millennium — and asked: "And what exactly is that thing for?"

"It's a crossbow-style bolt-thrower. Specifically suited to this planet, given the restrictions on ranged weapons here. I used dragon sinew as the bowstring and sharpened dragon bone for the ammunition. Two Astartes operating one of these heavy cold-weapons at range should be enough to force a good number of aerial wyverns down out of the sky and onto the ground where we can deal with them."

Bolt-throwers of this sort existed in the Monster Hunter world as well — they had simply always been heavy weapons that solo hunters had no use for. Now Lin had put one together himself.

Simple in principle it may have been, but with the monstrous material bonuses that monster parts provided, even the simplest principle became a terrifying instrument of destruction.

"Can't it be scaled down? Made into a lighter crossbow?" Lieutenant Vigan pressed.

"I don't have the materials left to make something special like the tachi again. If I built a standard light crossbow, its output would be roughly on par with the Bolters you already have. Ranged weapons are mainly there for suppression anyway. I'll also be providing you with a number of support items — things like sonic-burst bombs, smoke bombs, and explosive barrels packed with Bazelgeuse scales. Your primary task will be to use these tools actively to restrain the monsters and prevent other creatures from wandering into the fight."

Lin took the opportunity to introduce all the other new support items he had made. The resonance sacs and scales gathered from his successive hunts of the Tigrex and Bazelgeuse had finally given him enough material to fill out the full standard toolkit of Monster Hunter consumables. By the time he had finished walking Vigan through everything, every pair of eyes in the room had naturally drifted to the last remaining item — the small wooden hand-cart.

The weapons before it had been unusual, exotic, remarkable in their own ways. But facing this last utterly unremarkable wooden cart, everyone found themselves slightly at a loss.

They turned it over, examined it from every angle, and beyond confirming that its dimensions were obviously not designed for an Astartes to ride in, they could make absolutely nothing of it. Their gazes migrated toward Lin, waiting for an explanation.

"Why are you all looking at me? That is literally a flat wooden board nailed together into a hand-cart."

"It does look a bit like a toy I had when I was small," Sergeant Arlo offered as his critical assessment. "Is there nothing special about it at all?"

"Nothing special about the cart. But what's special is who uses it."

Lin lay down in the cart. Two Felynes who had been serving as forge assistants stepped forward, gripped the handles, and a pale golden light — the power of faith — kindled within them, expanding into a thin golden membrane that settled over the Felynes, the cart, and Lin himself.

Everyone stared. At Lin's prompting, Sergeant Arlo actually drew his blade and struck the barrier twice — but it did not so much as tremble.

At that, the Felynes pushing the cart pattered their short little legs into motion, and in the blink of an eye they had whisked Lin a considerable distance away. Arlo sprinted after them for a few steps before accepting that catching up was simply not possible. It wasn't until Lin strolled back at his own leisure that Arlo managed to ask, wide-eyed:

"What in the Throne's name was that?"

"Just a psionic shield — you've certainly seen psykers use them before. When their companions fall into danger, the Felynes' determination activates a barrier like this one to help them carry fallen comrades off a dangerous battlefield. This hand-cart is simply a convenient vehicle I built for them to transport a person in. I'm calling it Cat-Cart Mark I for now. As long as you build a strong enough bond with the Felynes — enough for them to consider you a companion — you'll be eligible for the same treatment."

"Is this an ability they naturally possess?" asked Admir — who knew perfectly well that Lin had once persuaded the Felynes to convert to the Imperial Creed. "Or did it emerge after you... convinced them to follow the Emperor?"

"I believe it was after they swore faith to the Emperor. The Emperor awakened a psionic potential that was always latent within them." Lin corrected him pointedly. "If pledging faith to the Emperor actually works, can you still call it a con?"

Admir exchanged glances with the people around him, and in every face he saw the same stunned look mirrored back.

Brothers — following the Emperor genuinely works. Has the Emperor actually ascended to true godhood?

"Should we perhaps also consider—"

Deputy Aibo seemed on the verge of proposing something, but was cut off by the Hunter Dreadnought, who did not look favourably upon the idea.

"We are warriors who cut down every enemy of humanity. We are fellow travellers with the Emperor, marching to restore mankind's former glory. We are the practitioners of Imperial Truth. Our resolve has never depended on something as external as faith!"

Lin equally agreed with the Hunter Dreadnought's position. "Faith makes humanity strong — and faith makes humanity fall. I cannot deny the objective reality of faith in this age, but the truly powerful have always been human beings themselves."

"That said, if something works, you use it." He added, "At the very least, with the Cat-Cart as a contingency, certain tactical arrangements can afford to be considerably more aggressive."

"How much longer do you need to complete the full preparation?" Admir asked.

"At the current rate, four days, twenty hours, and three minutes — call it five days. Once I've produced everything that can be made from the available materials, waiting any longer would simply be wasting time." Lin answered.

"Then the final battle to reclaim the void-ship is in five days. I'll arrange reconnaissance to assess the condition of the Rathalos occupying the ship, and we'll spend those five days making ready." He exhaled slowly, as though he could already see that final battle taking shape before him. "Whatever the outcome, Chaplain Lin — we are grateful for everything you have done."

"Save the flag-planting for after we've won."

Lin's tone was easy, but inwardly he was far from certain. The enemy occupying the void-ship was only a single male Rathalos — but now that he knew the World Soul would be interfering, he had no illusions that this fight would be simple.

Whatever happened, he had done everything within his power. Win or lose, he could face the outcome with a clear conscience.

He cleared everyone out of the workshop and buried himself once more in the making of equipment. Time flowed quietly past in the work. In what felt like no time at all, the decisive battle was at hand.

As everyone gathered in the camp's modest shrine, a pre-battle address — the first in a hundred years — was about to begin.

____

________________________________________

If you want more chapters, please consider supporting my page on (P). with 50 advanced chapters available on (P)

👻 Join the crew by searching Leanzin on (P). You know the spot! 😉