The Emperor’s Angel of Death

"Bastards! You're all bastards! We must kill all these bastards!"

Watching the Greenskins massacre the retreating wounded, Donchev gnashed his teeth in hatred. He had seen too much of this kind of atrocity. They would even snatch babies from their mothers' arms and kick them around like balls. They fought as if for fun, reveling in senseless slaughter—and he could only watch helplessly as they killed without mercy, laughing madly as if the pain and death of war were just a game. (Even in GW's depiction, Greenskins are more bestial than 'joyful.' Many writers overlook this, and Old Mo must remind everyone.)

Soldiers had received orders and rushed to his side, but people are naturally faster or slower, and bullets wait for no one. The Greenskins' big guns roared like heavy drums, instantly filling the trench with a storm of metal. They didn't bother aiming, firing wildly left and right, without regard for accuracy or ammunition.

Despite this, the whistling hail of bullets still claimed the lives of countless soldiers. The unfortunate were riddled through and through, screaming in agony, their chests and abdomens exploding with fist-sized holes, juice splattering like smashed melons. The lucky ones also existed; bullets pierced straight through the back of their heads, skulls shattering in an instant, eyeballs popping out, brains scattering, red, white, and black flying everywhere, dying faster than being disemboweled.

"Fight to the death!"

Donchev gritted his teeth and opened fire on the Greenskins until the battery was depleted again. Then, he ran into the opened small door and quickly climbed the stairs to the top of the wall. But this was no safe place either. Groans and screams were everywhere. A soldier, holding his severed arm, wandered around aimlessly, only to slip and fall off the wall, disappearing completely.

The ten-meter-high protective wall was the Greenskins' primary target for shells and rockets. They had a habit of 'shooting high.' Although this wall was once known as the Immortal Wall, and even reinforced with molten iron in some key areas, it was not truly immortal. Shells struck the top of the wall, and shrapnel flew, causing countless casualties.

"Run! Run! They're closing the door!"

He leaned out, risking his life, and shouted at the soldiers outside the wall. They ran towards the small door as if their lives depended on it, but if they fell, they would never have a chance to live.

Five minutes later, the door was closed and welded shut. Dozens of unlucky souls had not returned in time. They sat on the ground, wailing in despair or cursing madly, but were soon slaughtered by the Greenskins.

"Watch out for shelling! Take cover!"

Donchev heard a whistling sound in the air from afar, gradually turning into a shriek. He immediately dove to the ground, and then dust erupted between the protective wall and the Greenskins. A deafening roar echoed in the air, lingering for a long time.

In a daze, he straightened up and climbed up from the ground, quickly shouting.

"They're coming up soon!"

The Greenskins' attack pattern was monotonous: artillery bombardment followed by infantry charge, or infantry charge followed by artillery bombardment. Of course, it was also possible for artillery bombardment and infantry charge to occur simultaneously, but in any case, artillery bombardment was always a prelude to their attack.

"Where's the company commander! Where's the company commander!"

"Sir, the company commander is dead!"

"Damn it! What heavy weapons are still usable? Is the mortar team still alive? They're the only ones who can fire indirectly on the ground. Hurry!"

As he spoke, he grabbed the half-scared communications soldier in front of him and used the communicator on his back to call for rear support.

The army's preparedness level in this world was relatively poor. Artillery was limited to the thousands of Earthshaker Cannons left over from the Imperial Army thousands of years ago, as well as the planet's self-made small-caliber rifled guns. The rest were mortars.

This time, the Volga family gathered thousands of artillery pieces to defend Blackwater Bay, and they had been able to hold out for so long thanks to the artillery. Otherwise, they would have been overrun in about two weeks.

Soon, artillery fire came howling, slamming into the trench area outside the protective wall, but at this point in the battle, ammunition was running low, so it only lasted for twenty seconds before stopping.

"Sir, you need to go to a safe place, this—"

"If you dare say that again, I'll execute you, understand? Enough nonsense, keep firing. We will die with dignity! Pass it on, everyone hold the line to the end—for the Emperor!" After speaking, he looked outside the protective wall. Although it had been bombarded, the trench line was still crowded with aliens, scrambling to rush up. They jostled each other, seemingly competing for a good spot to kill, even stepping on their comrades. Before even reaching the protective wall, some frenzied Greenskins couldn't restrain themselves and started fighting each other.

For example, he saw a creature with skin as black as charred meat, wearing a spiked helmet and heavy armor, pounce on another, slightly smaller beast on the right, wrestling with it to grab the large axe in its hand. The smaller Greenskin wildly swung the axe, while the larger one swung a rusty great cleaver, stabbing it into its belly, slicing it open from the breastbone to the hip bone with an easy swipe, as if unzipping a zipper.

Thick blood surged out, and the glistening, pink intestines then slid onto the smoking ground. The larger Ork picked up the trophy axe, roared, and turned to run towards the protective wall, eager for a good massacre.

Emperor on high, they're really crazy.

Once it came to melee combat, they would only have a dead end.

"Grenades! We're out of grenades!"

"Where are the ammunition carriers?!"

"What else can we do? Retreat to the main fortress? The main guns are almost blown to pieces by the Greenskins' artillery!"

"Damn it, give us some heavy weapons! Machine guns, demolition charges, anything! Just give us something! We only have big knives left!"

The voices were very noisy, but Donchev felt as if he were in the distance, outside the battlefield, as if these words had nothing to do with him.

The air was filled with a strange calm. Although bullets whistled, lasers exploded, and he was surrounded by noise and heat, his mind was incredibly clear.

His thoughts returned to his family in the distance, silently praying to the Emperor—

Just then, the Greenskins' howls grew closer. He put away his thoughts and saw the Greenskins carrying rockets or engine-like contraptions on their backs. Some green little things were tapping their 'backpacks' with wrenches, seemingly preparing. He had encountered these 'jump-pack Greenskins' several times, and each time they had caused huge trouble for their defenses, and they had no good way to deal with them.

"Colonel! The suicide squad is here!"

The adjutant hurriedly ran to the top of the wall, but Donchev just gave him a kick.

"The positions are lost, what's the use of coming!"

"There's no way, Colonel, it's already a complete mess."

"Stop talking nonsense, raise the regimental flag."

"Yes, sir!"

As the adjutant gripped the flagpole with both hands and raised the flag, Donchev stood up and raised his command sword.

"Soldiers! We have nowhere to escape! This place, this time, is our last stand!"