The Emperor’s Angel of Death

WAAAAAAGH!!!!!!

Under the firelight, the green-skinned grin on that hill-sized, barrel-like body was so ferocious. Each roar of the massive weapon on its arm represented the destruction of an area. It was the one that blasted open the city's first defensive wall. With every step it took, it emitted a piercing, howling siren, interwoven with the roars of tens of thousands of greenskins, transforming into a frenzied force.

"This kind of war engine."

At this moment, although Ivan was furious enough to make his grip on his spear creak, he still calmly analyzed the situation.

The presence of so many rotorcraft, along with Killa Kans, and even a Morkanaut, strongly suggests that the greenskin leading the attack is a tech-savvy Warboss. According to the *Ork Record* compiled by the Royal Court, these things have a very crude name—a Big Mek.

"A Big Mek isn't at Rynn's World, but ran here… Do the greenskins have some kind of conspiracy?"

Seeing that he couldn't guess anything for the time being, Ivan made a decision, saying to the Dragon Knights around him:

"This greenskin force isn't that large. The humans here lack air defense weapons and won't pose a threat to us, so we'll prioritize helping them clear the skies. Roy, your squad is responsible for eliminating those bipedal machines. Same as before, try not to have contact with the humans, and try not to land. I think they're smart enough not to attack us. I'll take care of that war engine."

"Prince."

A knight clad in emerald dragonbone armor suddenly spoke. He was Ivan's cousin, and their families had deep kinship ties in the past. In the Dragon Army, he served as Ivan's adjutant and guard, holding the military rank of Dragon Knight Lieutenant.

"Is it too risky for you to deal with such a large engine alone? Perhaps there are other ways…"

Ivan raised his hand, pointing to the sky, where five Burning Wyverns hovered.

"It's fine. With their assistance, it's enough. I'll also help Master Quipah test his creation by the way."

Seeing him say that, the other party didn't say anything more. Ivan then made simple tactical arrangements. Relying on the reconnaissance of the floating sentinels, he already had a clear understanding of the greenskin's troop deployment, including that of the humans. Therefore, he chose to enter from the east side of the city, near the sea, which could avoid contact with the humans' heavily guarded second defensive wall, to prevent an excessive human reaction.

Soon, the dragon group took off again and formed a formation to fly towards Black Reef City.

"Ugh…"

Accompanied by the roar of rockets, when his body hit the ground, militiaman Mael felt his bones make a huge sound.

He then fell into a daze. The sky above his head was still pitch black, but it seemed to flicker with emerald light, and poisonous smoke filled the air.

When he gasped for breath, he began to cough violently, spitting out blood. He couldn't hear anything, his tongue was full of the bloody taste of iron rust, and his nasal cavity was filled with a burnt smell.

After lying down for more than ten seconds, Mael tried hard to turn over, and then a sharp pain came from his left arm. Without looking, he knew it must be broken, but at least it was still connected to the bone—if you ignored it bending in the opposite direction.

Blood dripped from his mouth, nose, and ears. Kneeling on the ground, he looked around.

The comrades who had been with him were all dead.

At least most of them.

The barricade defense line was littered with fragmented corpses. The son of the bakery owner who grew up with him, that chubby Beren, was hit by a large-caliber autocannon. Half of his face was plastered on the bunker, still retaining the horror before his death.

Their officer, Sergeant Uttig, was burning twenty meters away from him, his mouth always open, as if making a silent scream.

Even Priest Garren was not spared. This fifteen-year-old boy was much braver than his teacher, who had run away long ago. In the terrifying moment when the beasts rushed into the city, he chose to stay, but now his remains were leaning against the shattered statue, and his dark fingers still tightly grasped the Aquila emblem on his neck like dead branches.

The last barricade on this avenue leading to the inner city had been reduced to ruins, and even those who were not dead had lost their combat effectiveness.

They had tried their best, but the firepower of the two sides was not at the same level at all. Black Reef City itself was a city mainly based on trade. In the past, defense was also very lax. After the greenskin invasion, although defensive walls were built urgently, most of the regular army, heavy weapons including the air force, and the front of the ships were transferred to the mainland to assist in defense. Only the militia and temporary organized regiments remained. Due to the lack of experience of the commanders, all the only heavy weapons were deployed on the first defensive wall, intending to "keep the enemy out of the city". Since Black Reef City was surrounded by the sea on three sides and land on one side, most people still felt it was very safe, and at one time a large number of refugees poured into the city.

As the greenskins had not appeared, the city's defenses had become somewhat lax, and even in order to accommodate more refugees, camps had to be built outside the defensive walls.

And this may have been exactly what the greenskins wanted. When the huge war engine appeared with a roar, the defenders panicked. The refugees staying in the camps outside the city were even more terrified, and the frantic impact on the defensive wall entrance caused the defenders to be even more flustered, so that the enemy had already reached the city walls, and the cannons deployed on the defensive wall had not even fired a single shot—this was also related to the fact that some commanders left their posts to go home to "rest" or even to relax in entertainment venues. For safety reasons, the shells were locked in the warehouse, and the panicked soldiers couldn't find the shells at all.

In the end, the city's most powerful line of defense was breached by the enemy without firing a single shot, and then these cannons fell into the hands of the greenskins and even turned their guns to bombard the city they were originally protecting.

But this was not the most terrible thing. The most terrible thing was those crude and ugly rotorcraft.

Mael still vaguely remembered the deafening roar when they launched rockets, as if the earth itself had been split open, reaching the bone marrow, followed by dazzling light and endless blazing fire, as if the city itself had fallen into a sea of fire.

They had tried in vain to hide behind the bunkers, trying to protect themselves, but it was useless. After the collapse of the defensive wall, the command system finally began to react. These militiamen who had hurriedly evacuated from the defensive wall were reorganized, and there were nearly eight hundred of them, using various building debris, furniture, etc. to build barricades on the streets to protect the main road leading to the inner city defensive wall.

Now, their bunkers and flesh were melted together, and those charred hands still tightly gripped the hilts and gunstocks.

"Is there anyone alive?"

Mael's knees trembled, barely supporting himself, this time he stood still.

Overhead, the mad howls and mechanical roars were still roaring. Looking into the distance of the street, in the farther place, Mael could vaguely see some crude outlines, those cylindrical things, wielding circular saws and industrial pliers.