Traveling through the Warhammer world, but I didn’t cry

Street fighting is such a simple word, but it represents the most bloody millstone in the entire war. Different from the vast hell composed of trenches and barbed wires formed by positional warfare, these architectural ruins that symbolize a better life are the real Graves of the dead. From the records of ancient Terra: Stalingrad Fortress, our holy and great ancestors fell into a small civil war. In this civil war, the primitive city drained the blood of both sides.

Every day, corpses are left on the ground for tens of meters and dozens of meters advance, and corpses are left on the ground for tens of meters and dozens of meters to retreat. Any solid building can become the focus of the bloody battle between the two sides. The crashed and collapsed building The swarm buried the wide and clean streets and became a nightmare for all armored forces.

In close combat and hand-to-hand combat, these soldiers of the Empire have no advantage. The thinnest orcs are much more powerful than the strongest soldiers of the Planetary Defense Force. The muscles exposed by their tattered vests can make any bodybuilder Champions are envied. But this does not mean that the soldiers of the empire have no combat capabilities. We are familiar with the terrain, we are native, and we have spent a lot of time transforming this city and turning it into a cold fortress.

The industrial area of ​​the lower level hive city is spinning endlessly. The large number of civilians who migrated from the upper level provide precious labor force for the lower level industrial area, allowing them to work endlessly with the machines. As for the nobles and family members who account for more of the upper hives, they have all paid the price for their greed and incompetence, but Yaric believes that the Golden Throne will not forgive these maggots for their cowardice.

War scares us, and street fighting will scare war. Although these orcs may feel joy and happiness in the increasingly bloody and fierce war, this tomb specially built for them will completely bury their troops and everything about them.

The temporarily recruited residents became soldiers. After a short training, they were mixed with the veterans of the defense force and put into this huge flesh and blood mill. They either survived under the leadership of the veterans and became new veterans. Or die in their position.

Dover, this young man hiding behind the stainless steel wall and shivering under the orcs' artillery and gunfire, is a new recruit who has just joined the army. At his young age, he has just been established from the hive. After graduating from an ordinary college, you are about to enter this suffocating society and become a statistician with little promotion and growth in your life. There are so many people in the hive city that there is a huge gap in this clerical job. Everyone Every week there are colleagues who die suddenly during statistics, or poor people who are driven crazy by the huge data.

"Hold your gun! Fire at them! Don't lean out! Do you want to die?!" Dover watched as the veteran sergeant of his class dragged a reckless soldier in through the window. The soldier had just Falling to the ground, the window he was shooting at was flooded with orc ammunition, and the shattered bullet fragments made him subconsciously cover his face.

"You are covering your face! Are the mask and goggles on your face just decorations?" The veteran sergeant kicked the soldier whose life he had saved, and cursed with hatred.

"Sorry sir!"

"Don't tell me you're sorry! If you die without killing a single orc, then you will have failed the Emperor's expectations!"

The veteran sergeant cursed and looked so gentle on this chaotic battlefield where everyone could die. This fortress that has been strengthened by the Mechanic Priest is located in the center of the entire cross street. It was originally a huge clock tower, with excellent shooting range to attack the entire intersection, so the electronic clock on it was removed. , the outer wall was paved with a thick layer of cement, and then explosion-proof armor was laid on the outside of the cement.

Dover felt that they were doomed. With just a few hundred men stationed in this small fortress, the orcs would soon break through and eat them all. Thinking like this, Doful's hand holding the gun tightened even more, and he shivered in fear at the terrible fantasy of being eaten by himself.

The veteran, who had just taken a breather from another recruit's stupid behavior, noticed Dover's cowardly behavior. He pulled him up from the ground with a strong hand and slapped him hard. Dover's His face was throbbing with heat, and the mask became a little crooked.

"Stand up you coward! I swear if there was a commissar here, you would have been shot! Now pick up your gun and fire at the orcs outside! Otherwise I don't mind helping the commissar do his job!"

Dover, who was woken up by the slap, saluted the angry veteran, then slightly poked his head out of his shooting window to observe the scene outside.

Those huge, ugly orcs were covered in filth, and they were shooting at the walls and armor plates of the fortress with the strange guns in their hands with a ferocious smile on their faces. The bolter machine guns that were set up on the third floor of the four fortresses fired condescendingly at the orcs standing on the streets, bursting out clouds of blood that stimulated Dover's nerves.

Raise the gun, aim and shoot.

Just as he was trained in the military camp, during Yarick's inhumane and terrifying training, the recruit Dover subconsciously completed a standard shooting. The recoilless laser gun even made him a little unclear about himself. There was no shooting, but seeing an orc roaring in pain after his arm was broken still made the nervous recruit feel lighter.

The orcs fled in the fruitless attack, leaving behind four or five hundred corpses. They disappeared from the streets and hid in the gaps between buildings and alleys.

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"Have we managed to hold on?"

"Maybe, I have to sit down for a while, my shoulders are sore."

The soldiers sat on the ground in twos and threes, kneading their shoulders that were sore and stiff from holding guns for a long time. The old soldier was still alert, observing everything on the battlefield with the telescope in his hand.

From the distant streets outside the fortress came scattered but never-ending gunshots and dull artillery sounds, like the sound of drums that never stopped. Every beat symbolized the passing of life. Dover leaned against the wall, listening to the drums and feeling a little sad about it.

After a half-hour break, the voice of the veteran dispelled the laziness in every soldier's heart, "Prepare anti-armor weapons! Those beastly tanks are coming!"

The tracks of three dirty cars rolled over the corpses and building ruins on the ground and approached the Cross Street Fortress. These tanks that looked very bad could roughly see the appearance of Leman Russ tanks. These chariots that were supposed to be loyal to the Holy Emperor were dragged away by the orcs. After being desecrated and tarnished, they became unrecognizable. The armor on the car was painted with uneven red paint without any aesthetic sense, as if this tank was not painted but directly hit by a paint can.

Dirty car

The front armor was covered by a big orc face made of rusty iron plates. A machine gun tied with bandages and wires stretched out from the inside of the big mouth. That was definitely not the place where the explosive machine gun should be. Dover, who had learned some military knowledge in the barracks, clearly saw that the tied machine gun was sticking out from a large hole that was penetrated. The fate of the front tank crew was self-evident.

For convenience, the orcs simply used it as a machine gun muzzle. The machine gun that shook up and down with the shaking body of the tank was like a metal spring used as a bracket.

The tank turret was even worse. The turret made of welded iron plates did not look defensive at all. The long tube that seemed to be a gun barrel was full of holes, just like the heat dissipation nozzle in front of the promethium flamethrower, but the distribution was irregular.

Those green dirty tanks did not consider stopping. They kept the original speed and fired a shot at the fortress. The shell fell erratically on the street and blew a shallow pit.

Dover was completely shocked by the shooting in front of him. He looked at the well-maintained laser gun in his hand, and then looked at the orc tank's barrel with holes all over it. He couldn't understand why it didn't explode.