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Chapter 429: Warhammer: What Do You Mean You Conquered the Zerg

~7 min read 1,367 words

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Protagonist:

Lin En

Lena

The soldiers' breathing grew more rapid, their hands gripping rifles trembling slightly.

The Chaos Army approaching in the distance was like a wall of flesh and blood constantly rising in height, suffocating, and morale fell like a receding tide.

"Hold steady!" William drew the chain sword at his waist, its serrated teeth spinning at high speed with a roar, interrupting everyone's thoughts.

"The Emperor is with us! Mine array ready!"

The enemy's vanguard soon stepped into the preset minefield.

"Boom, boom, boom!" Continuous explosions rang out one after another, firelight forming a winding fire dragon along the street district.

The buried military mines and thermal bombs detonated simultaneously, high temperature and shock waves instantly tearing apart hundreds of Norsaka warriors in the front row.

Two Chaos Eggs charging at the very front were blown to a bloody pulp, half their bodies flying into the air.

The momentum of the charge suddenly stalled.

But before the soldiers could relax, the wizards in the rear waved their staffs again, more Chaos Eggs stepping through the aftermath of the explosions, trampling over their companions' remains to continue advancing.

Limbs blown off writhed on the ground, actually reattaching to their bodies under the witchcraft's pull; within a few breaths, the injured monsters stood up again, though their movements were slightly sluggish.

Bishop Jansen stood on the platform at the center of the position, his silver scepter striking the ground heavily.

His white beard was blown back by the wind, his eyes holding no trace of retreat, only a cold light of determination.

"Church Fanatic Battalion, advance." The command spread through the position via the communication channel.

Behind the broken walls on both sides of the position, three thousand State Religion Fanatics clad in gray gowns slowly stood up.

Most were devout believers from Bottom City, without standard bulletproof vests or fine weapons, holding only short blades anointed with holy oil and simple explosive devices.

Yet in every eye burned a fanatical fire, like clusters of flames willing to burn themselves out.

Pastors stood before them, holding up holy relics and chanting prayers; golden light of faith, like morning sunlight, scattered over the bodies of the three thousand, condensing into a thin film of light on their skin.

This light could resist the erosion of Warp Whispers and weaken the arcane missiles of pink Fear Demons,

but could not block battle axes and sharp claws, nor withstand the direct crushing of powerful physical attacks.

"For the Emperor!" No one knew who roared first, and three thousand people let out a deafening shout at the same time.

Then like two golden torrents, they charged straight toward the flanks of the Chaos Army from both sides of the position.

The Norsaka warriors opposite let out mocking laughter.

Before tens of thousands of fully armed Chaos Army soldiers, three thousand unarmed, unarmored mortals charging up was no different from sending themselves to death.

Several Norsaka Champions even stopped, arms crossed watching the charging fanatics like a farce, the flame on their axe blades lazily flickering.

The pink Fear Demons cackled shrilly, hurling arcane missiles one after another, but those missiles striking the golden faith light film only sent up ripples, causing few casualties.

This only made the Chaos Army find it boring—just a group of ants propped up by faith; once they closed in, one axe could cut down a swath.

The fanatics soon charged within a hundred meters of the enemy lines.

The Norsaka warriors in the front raised their battle axes, preparing to welcome this one-sided slaughter.

At this moment, Bishop Jansen closed his eyes, drew a holy symbol on his chest, and softly uttered a word: "Detonate."

"Boom!!!" The first explosion sounded, followed by continuous explosions.

Until the three thousandth.

Three thousand balls of golden holy flame exploded simultaneously on the flanks of the Chaos Army, like three thousand falling miniature suns, illuminating the dim street district as bright as day.

This was Bishop Jansen's trump card.

Upon learning that the Vanguard Army had mixed Saint Ash into incendiary bombs, he did not rebuke Bishop Wenka for blasphemy like that, but instead immediately recognized its tactical value.

He ordered people overnight to crush all the accumulated relic fragments, Martyr ashes, and sacred oils from years of storage in the Middle City Diocese.

Packaged into simple explosive devices, distributed to the most devout fanatics.

In every bomb were mixed Saint Ash and blessed Promethium Gel.

The holy flame produced by the explosion carried purification properties, having a destructive restraining effect on Chaos flesh.

The soaring golden fire wave swept along the flanks, and Norsaka warriors nearby were instantly engulfed in holy flame.

The Chaos Armor on their bodies melted like ice and snow, flesh sizzling under the holy fire, emitting shrill shrieks.

Dozens of Chaos Eggs were blown to pieces; the granulation at their wounds smoked black and withered upon contact with holy flame, never able to heal again.

Chaos spread like a plague through the Servant Group's lines.

The troops on the flanks were blown to pieces, and a gap instantly appeared in the front charge formation.

"Charge!" Regiment Commander William seized this fleeting opportunity, pointing his chain sword forward and roaring out the command.

The Iron Guard Charge Battalion, long on standby, immediately leapt from cover, grabbing engineer shovels and bayonets; over ten thousand heavily armored soldiers stepped through the explosion's aftermath and charged straight into the gap.

Combat Nuns deployed on both wings, using chain swords and purification shells together, like two sharp blades viciously stabbing into the enemy's chaotic area.

Armor vehicles and tanks in the rear started their engines simultaneously, heavy tank tracks rolling over gravel and rubble.

They no longer fired long-range cannons, but aimed the rams at the front of their vehicles at the Chaos lines, launching the most primitive physical charge like ancient heavy cavalry.

The Iron Dragon Flame-spewing Armored Vehicle charged at the very front, its flamethrower crazily pouring Tiberium holy flame, plowing burning passages through the Chaos Army.

The Leman Russ Tank's tracks crushed the Chaos Eggs blocking the way, its vehicle-mounted heavy shells sweeping along the ground, mowing down swathes of Norsaka warriors lunging up.

The moment of close combat, blood splattered across the street.

The Iron Guard soldiers' engineer shovels split open the skulls of Norsakans, while the enemy's rune battle axes could also split clay steel armor plates.

The Combat Nuns' chain swords severed the tentacles of Chaos Eggs, but they also had to be careful of the corrosive liquid vomited by the monsters.

There were no flashy moves, only the most primitive flesh-and-blood slaughter; every second someone fell, every step trod upon corpses to advance.

But the gap in strength between enemy and us, after all, is not something a chest full of hot blood can erase.

The Norsca Warriors' ferocity far exceeded imagination; the more heavily wounded they were, the fiercer their onslaught — even disemboweled, they dragged their intestines along and kept swinging axes to hack and kill.

Even blown to only half a body, a Chaos Egg would still roll toward the nearest human, using its corrosive body fluids to perish together with them.

And there were the Norsca Sorcerers, providing constant spell support.

The Red Word Warriors farther back had not yet struck; just the believers and monsters in the front ranks had already bitten down dead on the defensive troops' charging momentum.

Five minutes, merely five minutes.

The charging Iron Guard soldiers suffered over half casualties, the Combat Nuns' formation was scattered by the constantly emerging demons, and over a hundred armored vehicles were overturned by Chaos Eggs.

Tank tracks were corroded and snapped by acid, paralyzed in the sea of fire, unable to move.

The golden Holy Flame gradually dimmed, the lingering smoke of explosions slowly dispersed.

The Chaos Army merely paused slightly, then once more stepped over corpses piled like mountains, slowly advancing toward the Central City Core Area.

Bishop Jansen stood on the platform, watching the constantly approaching blue halo, released his grip on the scepter, and instead picked up an officer chainsword.

He did not order a retreat, but joined the final charge.

◈

End of Chapter

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