novelraw Chapter 139: Exercise (2)
Chapter 139: Exercise (2)
"Do you think we can hold them with these fortifications?"
Lucian lowered the Telescope in his hand but continued to stare at the undulating horizon in the distance.
"Although I am no engineer, I know we probably can't hold this wall."
Kent answered with absolute frankness.
"Why do you say that?"
"They built the wall too far out. The narrowest part of the valley is right behind us."
"And what else?"
"Therefore, this wall is too long."
Kent made a gesture, seemingly unable to understand why his superior couldn't see something so obvious.
"Trying to defend everywhere means losing everywhere. We don't have enough soldiers to repel a full-scale attack."Then, he gestured behind him.
"The other exit is to the south, but it's too conspicuous to move heavy armor covertly. It's the only viable route through our defense line; no matter how blind the enemy is, they'll easily spot it."
"Everything you said is correct, Captain."
Lucian nodded.
"Do you understand why?"
"I'm only speaking my personal opinion, but I feel like you want them to attack here. What I don't understand, however, is why we are letting them seize the initiative when we should be actively attacking them."
"The enemy is pushing forward like a surging tide. If we meet them head-on, they will wash us away. But if we retreat, continuously baiting them until their front line is stretched thin—that is when we hit them."
"Is this your plan?"
"Not entirely."
"Permission to speak freely, Sir?"
"Granted."
"Do we really have to wait until we're cornered in a valley before choosing to counterattack?"
"I think we'll find out very soon."
Lucian turned around. He heard shouts coming from the vox-caster—the enemy forces were advancing on their position, their formation spread wide.
"Get the tankers ready, Captain."
"Yes, Sir."
Kent saluted, then turned to mobilize the armored battalion.
Lucian Silos gazed into the distance and saw flashes of fire at the foot of the far-off mountain.
The enemy had arrived—
BOOM!!!
Amidst the roar of artillery fire, the troops playing the enemy launched a fierce attack after assembling for fifty minutes, spearheaded by heavy armor and fast bikes.
This was an iron fist intended to batter the defenders into numbness. Then, the infantry would launch a charge, striking the defenders like a heavy punch to utterly destroy their resistance.
The warriors playing the enemy, clad in identical armor, disembarked from their armored transports and began a relentless advance toward the defenders' positions.
Las-fire and bullets hammered the chaotic, advancing enemy forces, punching holes in their formation, yet it failed to slow them down in the slightest.
The sparse artillery hurled specialized munitions into the enemy ranks, knocking down enemy squads amidst flashes and Screaming.
The enemy tanks joined the fray.
Amidst deafening original roars, massive main guns sawed through the defenders' fortifications.
An entire company of soldiers was vaporized by firepower just five minutes into the battle. Officers roared orders at the sole remaining heavy weapons squad to take out the enemy tanks.
Subsequently, three guided rockets flew toward a tank. One of them fell silent after being struck in the flank by two rockets.
A second one was dealt with a few minutes later when a hot Melta Cannon shot directly hit its turret.
But these were actually just fleeting victories, brief flashes of brilliance in the face of overwhelming odds.
These enemies fought like fanatics.
They charged forward with a mindless, emotionless fervor, like some sort of soulless, mechanical beast.
Lucian finally confirmed his suspicions.
This exercise was meant to make them face an enemy exactly like the Greenskins.
Or rather, it was the Greenskins.
He prided himself on being a warrior, but seeing Greenskins on the battlefield meant facing an enemy for whom war was nothing more than consumption.
But Lucian did not want to dance to the beasts' war drums.
In the silence, tactical information flickered and scrolled across his Dataslate.
Casualty rates, kill rates, predicted outcomes, and a dozen other battlefield metrics.
The flow of information would overwhelm even several tactical analysts, but Lucian was different. Although he was not an Astartes, he was close to one; his Augmentation surgery was already halfway complete.
This also meant his abilities far exceeded those of Mortals—especially his enhanced cognitive capacity—allowing him to process this information in a very short amount of time.
When the enemy overran the first trench and regrouped to prepare for another attack on the long wall, Lucian got the opportunity he had been waiting for.
Now was the time to retreat.
He picked up the vox-caster and issued the retreat order.
As the various strongpoints began filling the kill zone in front of the long wall with heavy firepower, squads of soldiers started retreating in a smooth rhythm.
Lucian turned and leaped down from the wall, joining his command squad.
During their previous retreat, his command post had been ambushed, and most of the officers were gone, leaving his command squad short-staffed.
However, he had already anticipated such a contingency, so he swiftly drafted personnel from among the junior officers to fill the vacancies.
Behind them, the enemy finally reached the base of the wall.
They forcefully surged over the defensive wall as the guards fled.
When the tank battalion fired up their engines and began relocating through the southern exit, Lucian transmitted a coded pulse signal to the Adeptus Mechanicus priests within the massive complex of fortresses.
A few seconds later, a series of controlled explosions obliterated the valley's long wall in a thunderous collapse.
This was merely a delaying tactic.
The enemy would break through shortly anyway, but for now, it was enough.
All the tanks moved, all the armor followed suit, and the surviving soldiers boarded the vehicles, their mobility enhanced to an unprecedented degree.
Aboard the Undead Pest, Kent looked at Lucian.
"We're almost out of retreat options."
He said explicitly:
"Do you still have a plan, Sir?"
Lucian didn't answer immediately; tactical data regarding casualty ratios scrolled across his Dataslate.
It was a grim set of data, but they were still within the parameters set for the predicted engagement conditions. An overview from the Chapter command post filtered through the tactical feed, revealing the extent of the enemy's losses amidst the constantly collapsing fortifications.
"Of course."
He nodded and answered:
"Now, we are going to do something bold."
"Sir, you know me. I dare to do anything, except touch the butts of Astartes."
Although this guy was foul-mouthed and unruly, Lucian simply liked the heart this Captain showed, and he was glad to hear this kind of proud aggressiveness in the other party's voice.
"Good. Then, all units, turn around! Let's go kick their asses hard! Target: the enemy's command post!"
Under Lucian's command, the mechanized forces rapidly wheeled around. The long-silent Malcador heavy tanks let out a roar, hungry for battle.
When the first artillery shells rained down on the enemy's rear, their front line swiftly wavered. And when the tracks of the Malcador heavy tanks crushed the enemy's command post and "battle standard," this seemingly multitudinous enemy instantly crumbled—the command post heralded their victory.
After securing the victory, Lucian stood by the tank's turret, gazing at the smoke-filled battlefield, his heart surging with intense emotion.
This was only an exercise, but true war was not far away.
He longed to truly defeat his enemies on the battlefield and crush their filthy corpses beneath his armor's treads.