God Emperor’s Angel of Death

"Too much TM!"

Amidst the screams, the soldiers were shocked by the large green in the distance.

Is this their last moment in the tiring war?

With the idea of ​​terrifying in mind, Hartman Paul tried to slide a certain distance out of the trench to take a look at the position of the enemy behind the no-man’s land outside the trench-although he did not know that the opponent would The attack was launched there, but with his understanding of Greenskins, the front must be the main direction.

But when he stretched out his head, there was only dust and dirt in his sight.

Then one after another laser whistled past, the enemy screamed in the air, and at the same time more and more artillery shells fell, and one exploded in the center of the traffic trench next to it, and soldiers came immediately. The wailing.

What fell on Hartman's face was no longer water and mud, but human fragments.

He stood up cursing, his face full of anger, holding a pistol in one hand and a command sword in the other, cutting the air in the morning.

"In the name of God Emperor! They are here! Everyone stays on the front until the enemy rushes through the mud wall and fires again!"

dong dong dong ——

Suddenly, he heard the sound of drums, boring drums.

But it’s not the drums that really bore Hartman Paul, it’s the rhythm.

The rhythm is completely chaotic and irregular. Although it sounds no different from ordinary drums, the drum beats are like an undulating heart, overlapping each other, with divisions.

Although the bombing continued, the sound of drums had approached the position and seemed to have overwhelmed the explosion from the trenches on the front line.

When he picked up the telescope, he saw a crazy machine.

Thousands of rudimentary mechanical structures are placed on rudimentary crawler devices. There are reciprocating engines and small rotating turbines everywhere, driving the lever in some way to make the drum The hammer knocked on cylinders of various sizes and various sizes. The cylinders were also covered with human skin, and countless green wild beasts shouted around.

Hartman tried not to think about how the skins came from.

Ten minutes after the green-skinned artillery launched the bombing, the human artillery also responded. The nests themselves have certain defense facilities, especially the middle nest and upper nest, which are equipped with a large number of fixed turrets and oversized turrets. Artillery of caliber.

Soon, on a battlefield that was two hundred kilometers long and five kilometers deep, the artillery fire from both sides began to interweave, and the shells collided in disorder.

Then, as always, a large swath of green-skin infantry appeared in Wuyangyang.

After these days, Hartman has learned how to use the area of ​​the enemy to estimate the number of enemies, and he just glanced at it and estimated that the enemies facing their positions were more than half a million.

And their "bad" group is full of 3,000 people.

3000 people against 500,000 wild beasts, Hartman thinks this is ironic enough.

Perhaps this defense against War General is as legendary as many great battles in history. Color, but he also pessimistically believes that such a feat will be commemorated by no one, and even the highest command will remain silent.

He has always thought that he is just a mere mortal, unable to keep up with the glorious generals in history, he can only do what he can do.

With the support of light and heavy artillery, the green-skinned troops formed a formation like lock-throated arms, gradually encircling the position of the 9th Infantry Regiment of Armageddon, with dense barrage across the soldiers’ heads. Some hit the dirt, splashing layers of dust, and some lit up the tents, igniting raging flames behind the battlefield.

Hartman insisted on holding the telescope behind the bunker. He saw the enemy advancing with such terrible and firm steps. This time Greenskins made up his mind to take them down and sent They were all taller and taller infantrymen, wearing heavy combat armors of different shapes. This should be an elite commando, not the previous skirmishers.

For the 9th Regiment, which has a pitiful firepower, it is tantamount to worsening the situation.

What made him even more shocked was that these green skins did not hear the gunfire as usual and started charging regardless. They made full use of every centimeter of bunkers and moved forward without rush or slow speed. moved towards the ninth regiment lifted their sharp claw.

"No fire is allowed without my order!"

In fact, the opponent has already entered range, but Hartman restrained his desire to fight back because they lacked long-range heavy weapons , And the long-range volley of laser guns can only cause psychological effects and cannot cause actual damage.

Soldiers are distributed in trenches and foxholes, surrounded by sandbags. Hartman's command is simple: mount the bayonet, turn the weapon semi-automatic, and wait for him to give the signal to fire.

For the first ten minutes of the war, they remained silent, despite the enemy's fire pouring on their positions, and the air was filled with feather-like white smoke and floating dust, artillery and rockets. The battlefield was bombed, but most of the artillery shells approached, and a new foxhole was exploded on the slope.

Hartman once heard from Arek’s political commissar that there are two kinds of enemies that are the most terrifying. One is cruel and bloodthirsty but shrewd, while the opposite is cruel. And rude.

The latter is sometimes more deadly than the former.

Estimating the distance of the opponent’s vanguard, Hartman summon came to the signal soldier and chose the open command channel:

"My soldiers, carefully choose the target to ensure that every shot is Hit, now free to fire."

The soldiers immediately fired back, and bursts of laser gun shots hit the green-skinned attacking spearhead.

Only the first volley, Hartman saw a hundred or more enemy troops fall, and then the soldiers increased their firing frequency, and began to throw grenades and fire grenades, and slammed them at the same time. The cannon also fired.

The confrontation between the infantry has begun, and the greenskins are no longer walking at the previous speed.

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

After the familiar roar, the earthquake trembled.

They began to charge.

The air becomes scorching hot, filled with the smell of ozone produced by laser ionization. Because human forces rely on the terrain and have a higher cover and firing angle, they can basically ignore the random bullets fired by the enemy.

But even if they fire every half second and kill an enemy every four rounds, Hartman still feels that they are hopeless.

There are too many enemies, and they cannot retreat at all, nor can they rush out of the bunker.

Either defeat the enemy or be overwhelmed by the enemy. The Ninth Regiment can do nothing but hold the position and fight to the end.

"Heavy bombs! Move to the flanks! Suppress that side!"

"Lunengt, you take half of the battery to support the third company, and you also bring the remaining grenades Go!"

"Melee combat is never allowed until as a last resort!"

Hartman has been commanding at the forefront, even if his hat has been blown away by a bullet three times.

The enemy has flooded the defensive soil wall, and it is too late to find the target with three thousand guns.

In the previous firefight, hundreds of green skins fell down, and their mutilated bodies rolled down the slope to the end, but the Ninth Regiment was still unable to stop this wave at all.

"Bleed and fight for the God Emperor!"

Hartman shouted, standing under the banner of a rudimentary to somewhat comical regiment. The enemy's intentions are very simple: in overwhelming numbers And the unstoppable desire to fight destroyed them, the green-skinned commander undoubtedly regarded their soldiers as victims.

But it is also terrifying in a sense.