Bad news: You've been conscripted by the Emperor!

Good news: You're recruiting the Cursed High Lords! You can cast your chess pieces into that world and use them as real people! You can even possess and micro-manage them yourself!

Bad news: You can only cast pieces worth 500 points! And you don't have enough authority, so you can only cast basic units!

Good news: You can level up to gain more points and authority, and you'll get to colonize a world upon taking office, instantly becoming a Planetary Governor!

Bad news: There's a Necron grave right under your butt!

Good news: You can recruit even more Cursed High Lords!

So what else can we say! Recruit some awesome friends and embark on a relaxing, enjoyable (and realistic) journey through Warhammer 40,000!

Calixis Sector, Port Wanderer, Blind Eye Bar. "Hello, friend, come sit down. You're looking for a job?" A well-dressed man embraces you, offering you a glass of Renka brandy. "You can call me Siegel, the best Rogue Trader in the Kronos Expanse." "Do other Rogue Traders say the same thing? Friend, to survive in Port Wanderer, you must use your own judgment.

(Warhammer 40k, search, attack, retreat, loot the gold, run and knife the rat, snipe the rat, hoard the rat.)

After the battle between the Imperial Planetary Defense Forces and the rebels, a large number of reports were scattered across the battlefield. Li Qinwu, who possessed the search, attack, and withdrawal system, began his own land grabbing business.

The laser gun of a fallen soldier? Take it, it fired level 3 ammo.

Shell armor? Take it! It's a level 4 armor.

Wow! The explosive pistol of the fallen political commissar! It fired level 5 rounds!

The destroyed Leman Rustamsk actually yielded a large gold tank battery!

Take them all back to the Underworld hideout! Sell them to various gang contacts to exchange for building materials and upgrade the hideout.

The hideout manufactures sophisticated machine guns and high-powered batteries. Wearing six sets of power armor, it launches a fierce attack on heretics on the battlefield, increases the Emperor's favorability, and ascends to the Golden Toilet!

[Warhammer + Fanfic + Alternate Lore + Comedy + System]

College student Yan Yue transmigrated into the body of a Space Marine Centurion—only to discover he’s now leading the last remnants of the Luna Wolves, a legion trapped in the Warp for 10,000 years.

When their battle barge escapes the ruins of Cadia, Yan Yue and his ancient Long War veterans emerge into a galaxy gone mad:

The Imperium is rotting with corruption,

The Inquisition wants them dead,

And his "Loyalty Meter" System keeps pinging: "Bro, maybe don’t mention you served Horus?"

Armed with pre-heresy drip, two layers of PTSD, and a darkly hilarious misunderstanding aura, this accidental warlord must either:

✓ Redeem his legion’s name,

✓ Conquer the Throneworld for giggles, or

✓ Die spectacularly when the Black Templars find him.

The Emperor’s finest? More like… the galaxy’s worst book club.

Otto traveled through time and became the ruler of a small broken ball.

Good news: if you have great power, you will have loyal subordinates, and you will have more fun with less work.

The bad news: it's Warhammer World.

Good news: There is a glitch, and Star Technology has been unlocked.

Bad news: I seem to be targeted by five strange big guys...

****

Just when Otto was about to use the power of plug-ins to farm with peace of mind and strive to become an empire-standard Black Sky master, Cardia exploded.

Only then did he realize that the location he was in was generally called the [Dark Side of the Empire]

"This Warhammer shithole is so hard to clean! Those hard lumps are stuck in the pipe list. It's so annoying!"

Chen Long, who was riding the super beast and standing on the monkey version of the ether phase engine, said irritably, dozens of light seconds away!

As a member of the ancient Dwarf race, how should he face the threats of Greenskins, Skaven and even the Chaos Gods, recapture the lost mountain fortress, retrieve the lost artifacts, and restore the glory of the Mountain Kingdom?

They're all loyal when you talk about it, but they won't go when you ask. This statement perhaps best reflects the reality of the Warhammer world.

It contains so much passion and romance between men, but even more so, endless despair.

Zhou Bin, this unlucky fellow, simply joined a Warhammer 40K fan group by chance, watched a few short videos recommended by them, and, following their advice, reluctantly shouted a few words of loyalty in the group. Before he knew it, he had been transported to the world of Warhammer 40K.

He became one of the countless ordinary people in this world, and how will he struggle to survive in this universe full of malice towards humanity?

[Farming + Warhammer Fantasy + War + Slow Pace]

The shadow of the end has loomed over the century-long countdown, and the chaotic torrent is about to breach the world's dams. Demons roar, tearing reality apart, nations crumble in the flames of war, and even the highest gods cannot escape their fate of demise.

Who can reverse this doomed fate?

"Humans? They're as fragile as paper, not a single one of them is worth a fight!"

"Pointy ears? All they do is fight amongst themselves and gossip, they're such useless sissies!"

"Short and timid? Hiding in holes like turtles, just a bunch of shut-ins getting moldy!"

A green-skinned orc with bared fangs spat, surveying the battlefield with disdain. Behind him stretched an endless mass of massive black orcs, their muscular bodies laden with spoils; there were night goblin fanatics wielding bone spikes, their crimson eyes burning with Waaaaagh flames; there was the Queen Spider, a mobile fortress, her eight legs sending debris flying wherever they stepped; there were the Great Techies carrying booming firearms, their strange devices crackling with electricity—even the legendary ancient space machine, supposedly floating in the clouds, hummed and followed behind the green-skinned army.

When the soul of the transmigrator collided with this green-skinned body born for war, and when the cold system interface met the green-skinned man's greatest "I think" technique, a wonderful chemical reaction erupted.

The orc suddenly raised his giant axe, its blade gleaming coldly in the sunlight, and a deafening roar echoed through the heavens and earth:

"I think—to save this wretched world, we still need our big green skins!"

"From this day forward, I am the savior!"

"Waaaaagh!"

Caledor - the hometown of dragons. A Warhammer player came here because he insulted the Donkey Prince and became Imric, Prince of Caledor. The ox-hide book that can travel through the world will be one of the few things he can rely on.

Diablo, Dark Souls, Mask of the Betrayer...can the power and knowledge of these worlds revive Caledor again?

In the 136th year of Finubar's coronation, in the year 2399 of the Imperial Calendar, the Battle of Fenubar Plains and the Great Holy War are about to begin.

The shadow from Naggarond and the darkness of the northern Chaos tribes are gradually shrouding Ulthuan. This time the Dragon Prince will make a different choice and let the Caledorian fire dragon flag soar in the sky.

Also known as: "The Rise of the Medieval Dragon Aotian"