Actually, I realized that I did not want to avoid the oncoming patrol for a bunch of reasons. Firstly, I needed as much biomass as I could get my hands on and these Orks carried a substantial amount of it. Secondly, my comrades weren't going to see me if I unleashed quite a bit of my true power here. Sure, the Orks would scream and shout, and likely start shooting, but not even the other Orks were going to find that suspicious because that's what Orks always did. Violence was, quite literally, encoded in their DNA and, thusly, death was just a fact of life for them. Of course, a whole patrol suddenly disappearing was bound to catch attention, but that was also exactly what I wanted; the more trouble and confusion I stirred among the Ork settlements, the better and easier it would be for me to turn their weapons towards each other.

The barbarian xenos were rather simple creatures at the end of the day. For all their cunning, Orks were... predictable in behavior. But, perhaps I was simply biased, having existed as one of them for a time, giving me quite an insight as to how their minds worked. Or, at least, as close to an understanding as one could get.

My enhanced senses detected no other large group of Orks close to me. And I had just enough Biomass to completely devour the Ork Patrol before they could fight back too much.

I slid beneath and into the tiny gaps between the boulders as the patrol passed. I still wasn't entirely sure why they bothered patrolling this area as it wasn't strategically-important at all, but I figured these ones probably bickered too much and got themselves lost. Whatever the case, they were cut off from immediate reinforcements. I extended a tendril from my left hand and willed forth an eyeball to appear at its tip, which I then slithered behind the Ork Patrol, just so that I could get an idea as to their overall formation and placement. Firstly, there were, in fact, less than a hundred of them, but close to it – maybe ninety. Secondly, there was no formation at all as they moved, simply marching about in a tightly-packed cluster.

On occasion, one Ork would bump into another, causing a scuffle, during which the whole patrol would stop as the whole thing descended into a bloody mess of a brawl. And by that I meant it has happened at least twice in the five minutes I spent observing them.

Amazing.

As they continued their march, I sprang into action.

I sprinted right towards them from the rear of their 'formation' and, as I'd done at least once more, transformed a great portion of myself into a whirlwind of toothed tendrils, spikes, bone blades, and mouths. I devoured half of them in an instant, their gathering suddenly silenced by my arrival as my power reduced their xenos bodies into pure biomass. The rest of them took notice too late as I grew even more tendrils and devoured them even quicker than I had the last batch. I left not a single drop of biomass – not even a single drop of blood. All that remained of them were their clothes and weapons, all of which I sent into my Inventory to be used for future experiments with [Tech Shaping]. Not a single 'Shootah' was fired. Not a single sound made. I'd hoped for a little more chaos, honestly, but this was also – all things considered – a desirable outcome.

I retracted my tendrils and stood in place but for a moment. And then, a notification I'd entirely forgotten about suddenly appeared.

[Flesh Shaping] level up!

[Flesh Shaping] is now level 3!

New Form Unlocked!

[Eldritch Monstrosity] – Become a storm of whirling tendrils, spikes, teeth, blades, eyes, mouths, and limbs. In this form, you automatically begin devouring any and all biomass you encounter, automatically growing larger and larger with each life-form you devour. Can be toggled on and off.

Ah, the System took notice of my preferred method of engaging large groups of enemies and turned that horrid form into an actual skill. Having it within my catalog of genetic temples, however, meant that I wouldn't have to consciously maintain it as I usually did. Very useful. And I definitely liked the part where the tendrils would automatically seek out living creatures to devour. I wouldn't use this skill in the midst of allies, of course, but wading into a large group of enemies and transforming into an [Eldritch Monstrosity] to devour all of them sounded like a very viable strategy.

I'd prefer not to make use of it too often, however, as I knew that relying too much on it meant I'd slowly lose more and more of what little humanity I had left, something I did not and could not afford to lose. For situations that required it, however, then I wouldn't hesitate.

Whatever the case, eating the entirety of that Ork Patrol replenished all my biomass, filling up my reserves entirely. Good. I needed those reserves, in case I had to slice off one of my own limbs in the event of a fire.

From there, I continued making my way into the outermost reaches of the mountain, where the first Ork Encampments loomed. These ones, at the foot of the mountain, where all the corpses were thrown, were probably in charge of cultivating food for the rest of the Orks. From what I knew and remembered, Orks ate themselves. Cannibalism was the norm. Their bodies produced spores that, often times, grew into some form of edible living creature, such as a Squig – it the spores grew into new Orks, hence the cannibalism. Or... maybe not? But, then again, Nobz sometimes ate Ork Boyz.

Eh, whatever. The important part was that the first settlements cultivated food, using the bodies of dead Orks as fertilizer.

Briefly, I contemplated destroying their farms, before ultimately deciding that it wasn't worth it. My target was the Oil Refinery. And if that still didn't cause them to start killing each other, then I was going to blow up their weapons depot. If that still didn't work, then I was going to drop the Catachan Devil in the middle of the mountain, though I'd prefer to save that particular summon for when the war to retake this whole planet finally began. Or, I could use the Barking Toad, instead, but that ran the risk of also killing me, which I did not like.

Whatever the case, I looked on, hidden among the rocks and boulders, and figured that it was a much better idea to just avoid the farms. I also noted all the watch towers, the tall walls and barbed wires, and probably thousands and thousands of Ork gunners and artillery, all pointed outwards to deter possible invaders. I had to wonder if the invaders, in this case, were just other Orks. Because, unless the Warboss clobbered all their heads together and got the WAAAGH going, then the Orks were just going to kill each other in the meantime. Counterproductive, I'd say, but that was just how their whole race functioned.

Luckily, my one advantage, in this case, was that the Orks weren't expecting a human to be sneaking about. They weren't going to look for me. I also made sure to alter my physiology so that I gave off no scent, no matter how much the wind blew against me. Orks had a particularly powerful sense of smell, greater than that of an Astartes. And yet, none of them were going to notice me.

Actually, I should probably start splicing physical components from the Orks. They might've been filthy xenos creatures, but their bodies did house very interesting organs and adaptations that I'd be able to put to better use. But, I'd do that later, when I could actually sit down and think about my designs.

Sneaking around the Ork wall was laughably easy. As I'd expected, their security was light at best, which meant it hardly existed at all. There were even sections of the wall that had clearly collapsed under their own weight, which the Orks simply ignored. I knew that Gretchins did all the manual labor, but the tiny creatures were nowhere in sight. There were probably millions of them in there and no one thought to fix this up? The mountain shielded me from sight. And, everywhere I looked, found gaggles of Orks engaging in brutal melees, beating each other to near-death with their bare fists or crude weapons. Or, at least, they tried not to beat each other to death and, by the corpses they left behind, I was rather certain that many of them failed in that regard.

Whatever the case, after sneaking about for almost two hours, doing my best to keep my head down, just in case one of their spotters got lucky, I finally came across the first of the refineries. There were two. The other one was on the other side of the mountain. I'd get to it later.

Up close, I found quickly that the Orks were, indeed, keeping vast amounts of fuel within massive metal containers that were likely repurposed from Imperium fuel trucks as those were definitely Imperial Aquillas on the side. There were two such containers here, merely dozens of meters away from me, connected to a series of feeding tubes and metal wires, and mangled things that I could no longer name, acting as the stands with which the containers were kept aloft. A single one, I figured, if filled to the brim, would've been enough to hold maybe fifty thousand gallons of fuel.

However, my eyes widened a bit as I realized that they weren't simply storing and refining oil here, the Orks were actively digging for them, having usurped control of and repurposed dozens of what appeared to be oil-drilling equipment of clearly-human design and make. Appalling, I seethed, seeing humanity's technology in the hands of monstrous xenos. The Mechanicus certainly would've balked at the very idea of it.

Well, it was by the God Emperor's mercy and design, then, that I was here to remedy that problem. And, in the name of the God Emperor, I was going to smite down the foul machinations of the Greenskins and bring their abominable structures crumbling down into ruin.

Breathing in, I climbed and vaulted over the wall, unseen and unheard, under the cover of darkness. There were a few Ork Boyz walking about here and there, but none of them were remotely aware of their surroundings. I counted about a hundred of them here, scattered about the place, loitering. Some gathered and spoke to each other, while others gathered and drank some form of Orkish alcohol, which they distilled from their own spores. In essence, there were plenty of them here, but none of them were paying attention. There was a single Nob, I found, who must've been the leader of the entire settlement, quite a bit larger than average and armed with a heavily-customized rifle that looked like it had far too many barrels to make any real sense.

Nobz were bigger and stronger, but – above all else – they were also smarter than Ork Boyz. The difference in intellect was immense, which was why they often had leadership roles. I knew this because I had the Genetic Template of an Ork Nob in my collection. As tempting as it was to assassinate the Nob, I actually needed him to lead the Ork Boyz into a fighting frenzy to attack the other settlements. Without the Nob, the Ork Boyz would just run amok.

A tiny voice in my head told me that I could assume the role of a Nob and lead these Orks myself, but I couldn't do that – not again, never again. I wasn't going to lose my senses or my rationality and humanity ever again.

So, no, the Nob wasn't going to die.

Thankfully, setting the oil tanks alight wasn't going to take much work. The fuel itself was freakishly flammable. I didn't know much about its composition, but I do remember idling at a refueling station with my brothers and sisters in the guard. One of the few things our Commanding Officer reminded us, constantly, was that the fuel used for the Imperium's vehicles was extremely flammable and unstable. Why? That was for a Tech-Priest to know.

I sneaked through the settlement, past the uncaring guards, and into the isolated compound that housed the actual oil tanks. I then climbed the very top of the tanker, molding my flesh to create sucking bits of flesh that allowed me to stick to the metal. It was an odd thing to add to my limbs, but suckers were far from the worst thing I've ever created. While I wished to retain as much of my humanity as possible, Lord Eshidisi also taught me that to underuse my ability would be a disservice to the God-Emperor and to the Imperium; I had to strike a balance somewhere - a point where I could embrace the more monstrous aspects of my power without becoming a monster myself. When I reached the top, I carved open a suitably large hole, using the [Lightsaber]. I then grabbed a total of six plasma grenades from my [Inventory], primed all six of them, and then dumped them all into the hole.

By my count, plasma grenades took around six seconds to detonate.

I willed forth a pair of wings to sprout from my back as I jumped off and hurriedly and haphazardly flew off into the darkness.

KRAKOOOOM!

The resulting explosion, which erupted from behind me. Lit up the night sky, shredded my wings, burned my skin, sent me hurling into the ground like a meteorite, and just about set a good portion of the entire mountain on fire. The night came to life with the screams and roars of Orks. Just as planned.

AN: Chapter 54 is out on (Pat)reon!