The Imperial Guard's communications vehicles were ticking, bad news was coming from the companies, and the thick smoke was spat out of Captain Tesk's mouth, and the cigarettes were going down one cigarette after another.

The commander of the Imperial Guard was under the greatest pressure, and the more competent he was, the more dependent he became, and some liked stimulants, others preferred alcohol, so the man who had done his best for the Reich loved tobacco.

The taste of nicotine paralyzed the nerves from his throat to his trachea, so that he would not be driven crazy by emotion, but he knew that this was not the way.

The adjutant returned again. "The Levmanus tank was silenced..."

"The second one? The second one! "The captain is anxious and angry, but he can't be dissatisfied with his adjutant, war is like this, even the greatest engine of war in the empire has to pay under what circumstances, in the train, the efforts of the radio team should not be exchanged for his invective...

"Pull... Pull away, we still have three Levalus left, even if we take this area, how much more will we have left, the enemy is not without heavy vehicles, I'm not sure if I can hold this space that was exchanged for blood, damn space! He asked his officers, but there was no answer to the question, only what had happened in reality, because it was war.

The smoke of the battlefield carried fragments of metal and cement, and the fortified ground had been attacked by shells and death due to the heretical invasion, and now it was again.

The smell of blood, rust, gunpowder, laser guns and staggered roars make up this peculiar landscape, and if the hell of the human imagination has a concrete material world, then the battlefield is probably the perfect vehicle for it, madness, despair, sacrifice.

The soldiers were prostrate on the ground, their shriveled bodies crawling forward, and in front of them were the flickering sparks except for the smoke, the dirt, the roar of the officers, and the roar of the guns, which they had been suppressed, to be precise, since the entry of the battlefield.

But even so, those who are dying have the courage to raise their guns, and the soldiers of the Imperial Guard are not as fragile as the Space Marines imagined, and can only rely on numbers to overwhelm the enemy, because the enemy is more than them, the body is better, and the equipment is better, so what makes them cover the metal and steel forward?

It is death, it is the death of the consciousness of one's own death and the death of the world in which one was born, although the governor here is cruel, oppressive, and exploitative, but the vast void they have no other home, and this is not a beautiful and even a little disgusting place, the only place for them to survive as a group of poor people, not a place to be trampled on.

They weren't for the tyrannical governor, nor for revenge, but for the belief that the only glory of the Emperor mingled with the wails of their homeland, ironically, the best spirit of the Destruction Eagles, the courage of death.

An officer lay on the ground, lowered his body, pretended to be dead, and knocked the cluster mine on his waist, the damn thing was so difficult to excite, but the officer was already exhausted by illness, and after a short sizzling sound, the most inconspicuous sound on the entire battlefield, the middle-aged man showed a bitter smile.

He stood up, prepared, and threw as if he were lighting a cigarette, and the bullets of the heavy logging gun were inserted into the body in a moment, and the grenades flew out with the detached arm, and he was covered here by countless brothers, and now the officers only wanted those traitors to die.

Grunts, logs, a few bombs, a stick, rolled into the trench in smoke, and the Heavy was immediately drawn to the thing by the screams of his comrades, and countless heretics crawled out of the trench or moved to other areas.

The officer's body was shattered in an instant, and the burst of heavy thunder tore through the entire trench like a mortar, and the thick and astonishing explosion, the close-range projectile that could destroy the armor of the chariot demonstrated its devastating power over the trench, until the smoke and flying black, poisonous and greasy soil fell, burying the bodies of dozens of heretics.

The people who crawled out of the trenches did not get any better, and the rays of the lasers instantly carbonized the traitors, because when they replaced the Aquila on their body armor with an eight-pointed star, they were already doomed to die by the wrath of their compatriots.

And the front torn by the officers became the way for the Imperial Guard to invade the trench area, tearing a small gap of insignificant, probably less than five meters, in the brutal grinding of flesh for half an hour.

The staff officer shouted. "Charge!"

It is not a matter of life or death that people stand up and tear through the rough, ethereal lines of defense with their own flesh and blood, but simply revenge, hatred, and complex emotions that drive this crazy army, which is far inferior to Skady in terms of will to fight and many other aspects, such as combat equipment and experience, not to mention the famous worlds of Krieg and Kadia.

It's just the madness, loyalty and faith that emotions set off, and now in the extreme situation form an unbreakable torrent of death, sweeping towards the Chaos believers like zombies, and even a little black humor.

Death, opposition, anger, and faith make up this mad and twisted force, and they deal with the same enemy who has just treated them like this, tooth for tooth and eye for eye, blood, madness.

A few indistinct smoke grenades blocked the view to the left and right, and the soldiers charging with weapons were loaded with bayonets, and in a heavy breath, the dead charged into the trench, about two meters wide, barely allowing the soldiers to walk side by side, and the narrow place became an excellent place for them to raid.

The bayonet stabbed into the chest in the eyes of surprise in the goofy translucent mask viewing holes of the Chaos cultists wearing gas masks, and then the soldier expertly turned the blade in the flesh, and the blood moistened the uniform, and the cultist was pressed to the ground, then the blade was pulled out and shot in the head.

Then, when the warrior tried to kill the second one, the enemy's automatic gun was already spitting out tongues of fire, and the soldier who fell behind him charged, and the bayonet stabbed into the head of the enemy who fired the shot, and this repetition on the battlefield began like a cycle, making the meat grinder even more bloody.

But the bravery of the warriors has nothing to do with the situation of the battle, this good news has brought more than half of the personnel losses and the morale that has begun to be low, the number of attackers is smaller, it is impossible work, and some people in the command have begun to abuse, but they dare not touch a single word of the emperor and angels after those foul words.

The captain was smoking, at this moment he had finished the whole package of Imperial special supplies to be sent to the reconnaissance force to relieve the pressure, anyway, now that there were fewer people than supplies, he just scattered the cigarette butts in the basin and continued to smoke outside the window.

Because it was not good news, if they wanted to kill from the trenches to the pillboxes, they did not have such troops, and when could the Imperial Guard last until such a bloody grind of meat was exchanged for one? Everyone already knows it.

Whether it is to continue to exchange Riemanus for bunkers or the lives of soldiers, whether it is the area that can only be obtained, but they do not have the strength to maintain their gains, the disastrous victory is not enough for the Imperial Guard to fulfill its promise to the Space Marines, this is an insult to those who have died... What an insult!

The officers looked at each other, the air was only the sound of the captain smoking, they had no choice, a regional defeat would also hit morale, they didn't have time, they traded death for this place, and then relied on a thousand people to protect it, a small miracle, a chance impossible, but the officers had to do it.

They also knew that if the Space Marines did not show up, then they might want to sit back and enjoy their success, so they acquiesced in the charge, hoping that the Space Marines could live up to their trust.

At this point, the Imperial Guard high-ranking and the Space Marines have reached the same concept, that is, their lives are not worth anything, and if they can exchange hope, then take them all, but those people know that they are ashamed of their comrades, and the burden in their hearts will not be dissipated because of reason.

But the soldiers in hand-to-hand combat on the battlefield have already lost a third, that is, a full 3,000 men! Morale began to crumble sooner than expected, but it was not cowardice, but the result of the long battle that dissipated their will, and they were already unhealthy, and melee combat, meat grinding, tug-of-war, and even worse.

Although the trenches are gradually brought under control, there is little hope, and the Emperor's faith will eventually only support the heroes to come here, and a steady stream of heresies will overwhelm the mortals.

Despair, death, failure, shame, those nightmares are difficult to cross in front of the survivors of Loand, although they have done well, well, the Golden Throne must have its place, excellent place!

But can death really count as a reward? They have not yet seen hope, and this empire has made those people feel cold again and again, but such thoughts are only fleeting, because they are determined, and there is the engine that roars in the sky.

When a soldier shouted. "Thunderhawk, angel!" At the same time, the heretics showed fear, like the rats that saw the eagles, and they betrayed the empire, and therefore feared the angels.

And the sergeant who persuaded the brothers soared from the sky, looking at the brutal battlefield, full of guilt and anger at those heretics.

"Lower the zipline!" He commanded so, and the mortal servants did so, and the long, thin and sturdy landing zipline was held down by the Space Marines with a special grip like a snap, and the sergeants took the lead, their bodies automatically falling under their weight, and the Thunderhawk gunboats slowed down, and the Space Marines fell from the zipline, bursting with fireworks.

"Ready, shoot!" The sergeant looked at the erratic auxiliary runes on the eye indicator, and the weapon in his hand was not even focused, because there were too many people, and the distance was not far, only to see him raise the explosive pistol, and as he slid down, it was slammed, and it was fired continuously.

Therefore, the Loandians who were grinding meat with the enemy saw a miracle, the divine punishment of the angels, that is, one after another explosive bombs fell, tearing apart the flesh in an instant, turning those traitors into blood, and scattering them on the corpse-like Loanders, accurately, and such a terrible weapon exploded in front of them.

Even that person was still fighting with them before, but now they exploded one by one, like pigs and dogs, in other words, they can also be killed by the Space Marines like this, but the reaction of those warriors is not fear, but madness, excitement, and happiness.

"Emperor! O Emperor! ”

"It's an angel!"

Their shouts and the fall of the Space Marines, the two forces fell in the trenches, the huge bodies of the Space Marines blocked the road almost alone in the trenches, and the roaring and rotating chainsaw sword was a nightmare...

It turns out that the Imperial Guard is really doing a good job, they do their best, and they die to tear a front for the Space Marines that they don't need to die to reach, and the supermen who fall behind thank the soldiers and show that gratitude in their own way.

The sergeant wielded his chainsaw sword, and the Angel of Death's gratitude was naturally only death, but only the death of the enemies of the Empire, the roaring and turning serrated blades, the weapons made to tear through the heavy armor of terracotta steel, and it was overkill to use it on flesh and blood, so that people cracked like tofu...

It turns out that the Space Marines' heavy armored car-like giants face mortals like anti-materiel weapons on flesh and blood, and that completely terrifying aesthetic of violence is vividly expressed in their movements and attacks.

Screams, deaths, and desperate people changed objects in an instant, those heretics were caught up in two of the Empire's most efficient meat grinders, between the Imperial Guard and the Space Marines, no enemy of the Empire would want to experience such a nightmare, no enemy would feel that they could accept the wrath of the Blade of the Empire and the Hammer of the Empire in such a narrow place, and bear it at the same time!

It's a nightmare for heresy, but in the communications area, in the command room, Captain Tesk stopped the smoke of despair, he pressed the cigarette in his hand, and burst out with a rather terrible spirit, as if he were not a dying man, as if he were not homeless.

"The angels are coming! The angels are coming! He gave thanks to those people with the Aquila salute, and at any rate, it was just right now.

The command room began to methodically calculate the situation, and the adjutant was constantly reporting. "The breakthrough of point A was successful, and the front section of the trench was down!"

"If the breakthrough of point B is successful, we will destroy the withering and decaying!"

"Emperor, it's too fast, I can't believe it, how those angels are going to tear apart the battle line, how blood and death can come to the enemy, but I am so moved, this is the power of the emperor?"

The captain nodded. "That's right, this is the Space Marine, Brother Astarte, the Emperor's Heir, the Primordial Child, our Savior..."

"But do not ignore the defenses that we have torn apart, the enemy that has been routed, we are not their additions, but their comrades-in-arms, declare the artillery units forward, the armored troops forward, we will storm here, toast to hope, until our poisonous organs are filled with the blood of the enemy, until the uncultivable soil absorbs the flesh and bones of those heretics, for the emperor, and for the sake of Loander!"

Those people raised their chests, and the previous feelings dissipated, and it was hard to imagine that despair could dissipate in less than a minute, but this was the power of humanity, and they shouted. "For the Emperor! For Loand! ”

(End of chapter)