The Emperor’s Angel of Death

   Chapter 676

   "Too many TMs!"

  In the scream, the soldiers were all shocked by the large green in the distance.

  Is this their last moment in the tiring war?

With terrible thoughts in mind, Hartman Paul tried to slip out of the trench for a certain distance to see where the enemy was behind the no-man’s land outside the trench. For Lupi's understanding, the front is definitely the main direction.

  But when he stretched out his head, there was only dust and dirt in his sight.

   Then lasers roared past, the enemy screamed in the air, and at the same time more and more artillery shells fell, and one exploded in the center of the traffic trench next to it, and the soldiers' screams were heard immediately.

  It was no longer water and mud that fell on Hartmann's face, but human fragments.

   He stood up cursing, his face full of anger, holding a pistol in one hand, and a command sword in the other, cutting the air in the morning.

   "In the name of the emperor! They are here, everyone stays on the front until the enemy rushes through the mud wall and fires again!"

  咚咚咚—

  Suddenly, he heard the sound of drums, annoying drums.

  But it’s not the drums that really bore Hartman Paul, it’s the rhythm.

  The rhythm is completely chaotic and irregular. Although it sounds no different from ordinary drums, the drum beats are like an undulating heart, overlapping each other, with divisions.

  Although the bombing continued, the sound of drums had approached the position and seemed to have overwhelmed the explosion from the front trenches.

  When he picked up the binoculars, he saw a crazy machine.

Thousands of rudimentary mechanical structures are placed on rudimentary crawler devices. There are reciprocating engines and small rotating turbines everywhere, driving the lever in a certain way, allowing drums to hit various sizes and sizes. All kinds of cylinders, the cylinders are still covered with human skin, and countless green beasts are shouting around.

  Hartman tried not to think about how the skins came from.

   Ten minutes after the green-skinned artillery launched the bombing, the human artillery also reacted. The nests themselves have certain defensive facilities, especially the middle nest and upper nest, which are equipped with a large number of fixed turrets and large-caliber artillery.

   Soon, on the battlefield that was two hundred kilometers long and five kilometers deep, the artillery fires from both sides began to interweave, and the artillery shells collided in chaos.

   Then, as always, a large swath of green-skin infantry appeared in Wuyangyang.

  After these days, Hartman has learned how to use the area of ​​the enemy to estimate the number of enemies, and he just glanced at it and estimated that the enemies facing their positions were more than half a million.

   And their "bad" group is full of 3,000 people.

  3000 people against 500,000 beasts, Hartman thinks this is ironic enough.

  Perhaps this defensive warlord is as legendary as many great battles in history, but he also pessimistically believes that such a feat will be memorialized and no one will tell, and even the highest command will remain silent.

  He has always thought that he is just a mere mortal, unable to keep up with the glorious generals in history, he can only do what he can do.

With the support of light and heavy artillery, the green-skinned troops formed a formation like lock-throated arms, gradually encircling the position of the 9th Infantry Regiment of Armageddon. Layers of dust were splashed on the soil, and some lit up the tents, igniting raging flames behind the battlefield.

Hartman insisted on holding his binoculars behind the bunker. He saw the enemy advancing with such terrible and firm steps. This time the Greenskins made up their minds to take them down, and the dispatches were all taller than before. The heavy infantry, dressed in heavy combat armor of different shapes, should be an elite commando, not the previous skirmishers.

  For the 9th Regiment, which has a pitiful heavy firepower, it is tantamount to worsening the situation.

What was even more shocking to him was that these green skins didn't hear the sound of the cannons and started charging regardless. They made full use of every centimeter of bunkers, advanced without hurried speed, and lifted towards the ninth regiment. Their claws.

  "No fire is allowed without my order!"

  In fact, the opponent has already entered range, but Hartman restrained his desire to counterattack, because they lacked long-range heavy weapons, and long-range laser gun salvos can only cause psychological effects, not actual kills.

  Soldiers are distributed in trenches and foxholes, surrounded by sandbags. Hartman's command is simple: mount the bayonet, turn the weapon semi-automatic, and wait for him to give the signal to fire.

During the first ten minutes of the battle, they remained silent. Although the enemy’s fire was pouring on their positions, the air was filled with feather-like white smoke and floating dust, artillery and rockets bombarded the battlefield, but most The artillery shells approached, and a new foxhole was exploded on the slope.

  Hartman once heard from the political commissar Yarek that there are two kinds of enemies that are the most terrible, one is cruel and bloodthirsty but shrewd, and the opposite is both cruel and rude.

  The latter is sometimes more deadly than the former.

  Estimating the distance of the opposing team’s vanguard, Hartman summoned a communicator and chose the open command channel:

   "Guys, carefully choose the target, make sure every shot is hit, now free to fire."

  The soldiers immediately fired and counterattacked, and bursts of laser gun shots hit the green-skinned troops’ offensive spearheads.

  Only the first volley, Hartman saw a hundred or more enemy troops fall. Then the soldiers increased their firing frequency and started throwing grenades and rifle grenades, while the mortars also fired.

  The confrontation between the infantry began, and the greenskins were no longer walking at the previous speed.

  WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! ! ! !

  After the familiar roar, the earthquake trembled.

  They started charging.

  The air becomes scorching hot, filled with the smell of ozone produced by laser ionization. Because human forces rely on the terrain and have a higher cover and firing angle, they can basically ignore the bullets randomly fired by the enemy.

   But even if they fire every half second and kill an enemy every four rounds, Hartman still feels that they are hopeless.

  There are too many enemies, and they cannot retreat at all, nor can they rush out of the bunker.

   Either defeat the enemy, or be overwhelmed by the enemy, the Ninth Regiment can do nothing except defend the position and fight to the end.

   "Blast the bomb! Remove the flanks! Suppress that side!"

   "Lunengte, you take half a company to support the third company, and you take away the remaining grenades!"

   "Melee combat is never allowed without a last resort!"

   Hartman has been commanding at the front line, even though his hat has been hit by a bullet three times.

  The enemy has flooded the defensive soil wall, and three thousand guns are too late to find the target carefully.

  In the previous firefight, hundreds of green skins fell down, and their mutilated bodies rolled down the **** to the end, but the Ninth Regiment was still unable to stop this wave at all.

  "Bleed and fight for the emperor!"

Hartman yelled. Standing under the banner of a somewhat comical regiment, the enemy’s intentions were very simple: to destroy them with overwhelming numbers and uncontrollable desire to fight, and the Greenskins commander would undoubtedly destroy them. Soldiers are regarded as victims.

  But in a sense it is also very scary.

  (End of this chapter)