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

The port of Halesridge, located on the west side of the Hades Hive, also faced an onslaught from the orcs, but compared to the battle in the Hades Hive, the battle at Halesridge came later. .

The nobles who were still arguing with each other and passing the buck, and looking for any possible legal provisions and loopholes to gain more benefits for their families, were arguing endlessly, while the lives and lives of the soldiers and residents below were in front of them. I never cared about it, and I still don't care about it now.

But the purge of Hades Hive gave the people of Halesridge a very dazzling example. They felt that they could also try the solution of Hades Hive, and then stop the invasion of orcs and protect their home. .

For the first time, the knowledgeable people in the army and the hive gangs united, purged the nobles, and highly organized the residents of the city. They ambush the greenskins in any corner of the port, but under the influence of the greenskins, During the onslaught, they couldn't hold on for long. This was just a port city, not supported by a large number of industrial zones like the Hades Hive. It was more like a center where resources and the economy flowed together.

Now, Halesridge has successfully evacuated most of the population under their persistence, but the problem is that there will always be some people who want to stay, and there will always be some people who want to die in their homes. These soldiers defending near the evacuation port are a lone army, a lone army born to die.

Herbert is a diligent driver of a large cargo crane, or this job has been passed down for several generations, and Herbert is the ninth generation of this crane. He could still think of the time when he used his own hands to control this huge crane to pull up those heavy material containers in this bustling, noisy, and always busy port, and hoist them to those with huge chassis and low body. on a freight pallet.

This is a good job. Compared to the port maintenance workers who are responsible for cutting up scrap ships and cleaning all kinds of strange things on the ships below the port, Herbert is like a god hanging over the entire port. The only ones that matched his height were the spiers used by nobles to display their status and wealth. He could see the cranes in other parts of the port from high in the sky, and how the pollution clouds above his head flowed and floated. He was even lucky enough to see those precious stars that broke out from the gaps in the thick pollution clouds. light.

That touch of gold reminded him of the small Anglican church that his wife often went to on weekends. Whenever the pastor preached and answered questions, the finely decorated church would emit a golden color similar to the light of stars, so beautiful and dazzling. .

But now, it's all over.

The invasion of the greenskins happened to drop a garbage satellite near their home. When Herbert hurried back, his wife and lovely children became bones in the orcs' stomachs.

He silently used the welding gun in his hand to weld the door of his operating room shut. He was not ready to go out, or even to continue living. His daily struggle and numbness could only make him see his deceased family members reacting to each other in the dead of night. own plea.

"Revenge us."

With the grief of a broken family and the determination of revenge, Herbert, a taciturn crane operator, joins the defense force formed by the gangs and the army.

Those gang guys don't look like normal people. They are dressed in clothes made of unknown leather. Almost everyone wears a tattered gas mask with various paintings on it. They have similar patterns and terrifying skull faces. They use various decorations and spikes on their bodies that are different from others to identify who they are. Almost every nail on the iron shoulder armor on their shoulders has it. Each has its own meaning.

But you have to admit that sometimes a crazy gangster standing behind you is more reassuring than an Imperial soldier who is poorly trained and whose armor doesn't fit at all.

The scum of these gangs, Herbert swears that none of these guys are good people. He has also been to the bottom of the hive city to repair the lower counterweights and stable parts of the foundation of his huge crane. He knows what the bottom is. What a lawless and morally corrupt place.

He was very sure that every one of the gangs of lunatics he saw during the port defense battle were murderers and serious drug addicts. As long as they didn't have knives and guns in their hands, they would remain uneasy. They tiptoe lightly and use the eyepieces of their green-lit gas masks to observe the movements of others. Once they suck out the low-quality drugs in the filter cans on the masks, their hands will tremble violently involuntarily and their heads will tremble. He lit it up and down, talking like he was dreaming, not knowing what he was talking about.

But now, at least he no longer has to fight with those dangerous and unstable "teammates". Only the old crane he is most familiar with will accompany him to the end of his life.

"Get ready, they're coming."

The advance of the orcs was heard in front of the scouts. The leaders of all the soldier squads received the intelligence and quietly arranged for the soldiers to enter ambush positions, and reminded them not to be exposed or to shoot in advance.

None of these soldiers are young. Most of them are middle-aged men with wrinkled faces or gray hair. As for the old people? The old man has almost died in the fierce battle and material control. Most of these middle-aged people are poor people who lost everything in the battle, or they are those in the army who devoutly believe in the emperor and are willing to sacrifice their lives for him. Loyalist.

Of course, there are many people who did not get evacuation tickets, or were poor people who were stolen, threatened and lost their places. After several days of wailing and sadness, these people began to face it numbly. The fact that they are about to die.

Since he was going to die, he had to at least die a little more vigorously, so that when his soul returned to the throne, he could have a story worth telling, instead of just talking about scooping shit out of nooks and crannies.

Rumble.

The sound of the Orcs' tank engines is always so deafening, and the black smoke emitted from their exhaust pipes makes it impossible for them to hide their movements in the city. If you want to know where there are the most Orks armored units, you just need to look where the clouds are the darkest. If you want to know where the Orks are the most, you just need to find a loudspeaker and shout Waaagh! Then listen to which direction the sound is loudest.

boom!

Explosions were heard on both sides of the ruined road where the orcs passed through. These simple metal plates made of scrap metal used by the hive gangs and the improvised explosive devices placed behind them could effectively penetrate those thin pickup trucks. Even those metal plates that are too inferior can be used as fragmentation bombs, and it is still very efficient to clean up the unarmored troops of the orcs.

A metal block hit the Orc's tank, creating a dent in the machine gun operating room on the side of the vehicle. It hit the guy operating the machine gun inside and gave him a big cut on his head.

The brain-injured Fart was lying in the car room, drooling and twitching, and was about to die.

But this is just the beginning, and the real battle has not yet begun.