Chapter 163: The Resilient Modian Warriors

Dark, dense swarms of warplanes flew out from the Third Legion's ships, entering the atmosphere to engage in aerial combat with the colorful Modian fighters.

Because they live in eternal darkness, Modians are typically somber in temperament.

Scarce resources and dim lighting shroud the entirety of Modian in a repressive, gloomy atmosphere.

In contrast, their weapons, equipment, and daily items are much more vibrant; this is how the Modians amuse themselves.

The Modians are well-trained; under their control, the flashy warplanes maintain neat formations as they head toward the black warplanes.

Jenkins of the 33rd Regiment of the Solar Auxilia pushed the control stick, and the Aquila Talon dove down, the roar of its engines echoing in the air.

As the fire from shells streaked past the nose of the Storm Talon, an automatic rune flashed on Jenkins's helmet: the side-mounted laser cannon was locked and ready to fire.

Jenkins pulled the trigger, and the colorful enemy plane immediately erupted into a ball of scorching flame.

Behind his helmet, his cold, gray eyes narrowed.

He was an Aquila Talon; there was no hesitation, no indecision.

The warplane streaked through explosions and firelight, the heat waves scorching the silver chassis of the Aquila Fury.

Although the aerial battle had only just begun, Jenkins, who had campaigned across dozens of worlds with the Eleventh Legion, could already conclude: the Modians were well-trained.

He pulled up rapidly while rolling to the right.

The Aquila Talon banked right, charging into the gap between the oncoming enemy planes—an exceptionally narrow gap.

The Aquila Talon flew through the gap with a clearance of only a dozen centimeters, without hesitation.

After the Aquila Talon climbed to a safe distance, Jenkins finally caught his breath; his "girl" possessed a performance advantage compared to the enemy planes.

Jenkins glanced at the tactical display and activated a status report in the blink of an eye.

A signal pulsed on the screen every second; with every pulse, a warplane fell. The battle was swift and brutal.

The Modians used dense formations to compensate for the performance gap of their warplanes.

"Reform formation, dive again."

The Company Captain's cold command rang out in the comms, and Jenkins pushed the control stick, merging into the attack formation.

"Dive!"

Following the Company Captain's order, Jenkins increased the throttle; the burning Promethium granted the Aquila Talon powerful kinetic energy.

The warplanes of the Eagle Strike Formation, like a flock of eagles, pounced on their prey.

Tracer rounds swept across the wings of the Aquila Fury; Jenkins did not move his gaze from the flight path, and confirmation information flashed on his helmet display.

The autocannon roared, firing a string of shells at the colorful warplanes.

Runes flickered, and Jenkins proudly pulled the control stick; he had achieved five kills.

Every time a colorful warplane dragged fire into the darkness, another would fill the gap in the formation.

"Stubborn, but brave and resilient."

Jenkins was angry at the enemy's persistent resistance, but he also acknowledged they were excellent pilots.

The aerial balance maintained by the Modians through bitter sacrifice was ruthlessly destroyed after the Astartes gunships were committed to the battlefield.

The Order Shadows moved their control sticks and pulled their triggers with speed far exceeding mortals, shooting down enemy plane after enemy plane.

Subsequently, the four companies of the Third Legion from the first wave of the attack quickly completed their ground deployment via landing craft and gunships.

The Order Shadows walked down the landing decks, assembled beside the tanks, and then charged toward the targets of each company marked inside their helmets.

The Second Company encountered resistance while still over ten kilometers from the pyramid-shaped Hive City north of Vanandra; the Modians' talent was displayed in bunkers and trenches, a defensive network of crisscrossing structures.

The Modians, wearing colorful military uniforms, lay on the ground, watching the rapidly approaching black-armored warriors.

Their bodies were massive, yet they marched with great speed, their movements uniform and orderly, like a surging black wave.

They stepped in unison and landed in unison; the vibration formed by their march merged into a torrent of steel, slamming toward their own lines.

The approach of the superhuman warriors made the Modian warriors feel fear; their arms holding their weapons tightened subconsciously, waiting anxiously for the Commander to give the order to fire.

Finally, before the Modians could attack, the tanks of the Eleventh Legion fired first.

The Machine Spirit of the black tanks roared in anger, showering shells upon the Modians.

The Order Shadows' priority targets were the bunkers, and the shells smashed into the meticulously built defensive fortifications of the Modians.

The bunkers, which could be called art, were submerged in explosions, and the Astartes launched their attack under the cover of the dust and firelight of the explosions.

The smoke screen had no effect on the Order Shadows; they relied on their tactical helmets and superhuman senses to lock onto the enemy, launching swift and precise strikes.

The experienced Astartes Commanders gave orders, raising their arms to block their fragile visors.

The Modian Commanders gave the order to attack in desperation.

Countless scorching beams and bullets shot out from the Modian lines, hitting the Mark II power armor, leaving only spots and stains on the black armor.

Only two unlucky ones were unfortunately struck in their visors by ricocheting stray bullets or deflected beams, falling to the ground.

The Order Shadows did not stop their advance, charging into the Modian lines and launching a ruthless attack.

The bolters roared lowly, tearing the enemy to shreds.

The chainswords roared, and the Modians were minced into bloody mud.

The power swords flickered with blue light, and the Disruption Field tore people apart.

Mikhailovsky, like a human tank, charged into the trench; he raised his left arm, and his bolter pistol fired rapidly.

The bolter rounds roared, passing through the enemies' chests and abdomens, leaving bloody holes.

He raised his power sword and slashed at a defensive artillery piece; the Disruption Field tore it into a pile of parts.

The unstoppable Second Company Captain noticed that as the smoke from the tank explosions drifted away, the resilient Modians had also found a defensive strategy.

Under the orders of their Commanders, they launched attacks on the Astartes in units of dozens.

The Order Shadows relied on their superhuman senses and agility to avoid most of the attacks, waving their weapons to parry and deflect ammunition.

But there were also Second Company warriors who were occasionally killed when concentrated fire shattered their visors.

"Tanks advance, provide cover."

The black armored torrent rumbled and crashed into the Modian lines.

The Macharius Heavy Tank slammed savagely into the bunker.

But it also slowed down significantly due to the bunker's obstruction, and subsequently became stuck in the trench.

The Modian artillery array seized the opportunity and launched a bombardment at the Eleventh Legion's tanks.

When the first Macharius Heavy Tank was destroyed, his psycats also leaped to his side.

Mikhailovsky issued orders to his psycats through the new link.

【"Weapon Curse"!】

The brown-furred feline creatures raised their claws, and invisible ripples spread to the surroundings; the weapons in the hands of dozens of Modian soldiers nearby immediately suffered malfunctions such as trigger corrosion and energy dissipation in their Energy Cells.

At the same time, the Second Company Captain, whose brain processing power was enhanced by the psycats, conceived a tactic in an instant and issued an order.

"Assault squads, artillery!"

Although the proportion of Reaver Squads had been significantly reduced, the elites in each Chapter were converted into assault squads carrying Jump Packs.

Hundreds of squad members soared into the air, their jet exhaust trails streaking across the sky as they smashed into the Modian artillery array, using shells and melee weapons to destroy the enemy's firepower.

The Second Company advanced steadily under the leadership of Mikhailovsky, but through the rune feedback inside his tactical helmet, he also realized that the Modians were tougher and more adept at trench warfare than the enemies they had encountered in the past.

【Indeed, as Lord Bukayo said, the tenacity and defensive fortification construction capabilities displayed by the Modians mean that even Astartes will suffer a certain degree of losses when engaging them in urban warfare.】

Mikhailovsky and the other Company Captains all recognized the capabilities of the Modians during the brutal trench warfare; they followed the Dark Lord's orders, did not conduct high-speed advances, and steadily cleared the lines to lure out reinforcements from the Four Emperors in the capital.

Above the orbit, Samir had been monitoring the progress of the ground battle; he was not content to obey the orders of Bukayo Arshavin.

The First Captain decided to launch a swift offensive to kill the Four Emperors when they mobilized troops at Vanandra.

He wanted to achieve the greatest victory on Modian, win more glorious results than Bukayo, and prove to his father and all the Order Shadow that he should be the Lord of the Third Legion.

Samir was confident in mobilizing the First Company Warriors; they were originally his subordinates when he served as Third Company Captain, veterans from Terra, the Reapers.

In the entire First Company, there was only one member of the Royal Court, and he was merely a Captain.

The opportunity Samir had been waiting for finally arrived; the scanning array, operating at full power, detected dense signals of a large number of enemies gathering.

The First Captain immediately led the Honor Guard and walked toward the Drop Pods.

(End of this chapter)