Seraphs of the Emperor’s Judgment

Chapter 159: Rescue

Sergeant Major Miller sprinted across the front line, weaving between the armored units on both flanks. The Astra Militarum typically utilized Chimeras for transport, but the vast majority had already been destroyed in the engagements against the xenos.

Earlier, the greenskins had breached the lines using rokkit packs, dismantling all the tanks with battle axes and explosives before tearing the crews to shreds.

The company commander was nowhere to be found, leaving the Sergeant Major with no choice but to step up and lead the remnants of the company.

Not far away, the surviving armored units advanced in an evasive arc, dodging greenskin stikkbombs and mortar fire as they struggled to reinforce the fragile defensive line on the flank.

Shells detonated all around them, blowing craters into the earth and spraying lethal shrapnel at the fleeing infantry.

Under these circumstances, the armored vehicles reacted much like the men, simultaneously diving toward freshly formed craters under the illusion of newfound safety.

More shells promptly hammered the ground around them, shaking the very earth.

Lying prone on the lip of a crater, Miller peered out across the chaotic battlefield. The Astra Militarum's 4337th Infantry Regiment was still holding the line, fighting with near-insane desperation against the berserk greenskins.

But their efforts were largely futile. The greenskins had already overrun the positions, hacking and slashing indiscriminately, trampling the wounded beneath their boots.

The remaining infantry were making their final stands with bayonets and grenades. It was a hopeless endeavor, yet driven by mad resolve, they hurled themselves at their massive opponents.The veterans formed an isolated defensive perimeter, maintaining a steady stream of fire into the Ork ranks.

Finally, a detachment of Chimeras arrived at the breach in the line.

As the hatches dropped, a squad of massive, muscle-bound Ogryns swarmed out of the Chimeras. Brandishing ripper guns, they charged the greenskins; when the enemy closed the distance, they even wielded the heavy weapons like clubs.

Ogryns were among the few abhumans permitted to serve within the Astra Militarum. Their homeworlds were high-gravity planets, and due to these unique environments, the inhabitants had evolved to become abnormally massive and strong. Every Ogryn stood over two meters tall, possessing monstrous strength proportionate to their size and a robust constitution capable of withstanding trauma that would kill a mortal human several times over. The trade-off, however, was their intellect; it was so stunted it bordered on the primitive, barely classifying them as a sapient species.

Although their appearance was so terrifying it closely resembled that of xenos, Imperial geneticists have confirmed they are indeed pure strain humans—descendants of mankind who evolved under extreme, specialized physical conditions.

Blessed with brute strength rivaling that of the Astartes, Ogryns caught the attention of the Imperium's armed forces early on. Since the Great Crusade Era, they have frequently been deployed on the front lines as shock troops.

Naturally, Ogryn auxiliary forces possess severe limitations. Their weaponry and equipment must be designed to be both simple and incredibly durable, for these brutes have a tendency to grab whatever is within reach and crudely wield it as a bludgeon.

The heavy ripper guns they utilized also required fire-limiter modifications to prevent them from firing indiscriminately—otherwise, these massive abhumans would empty their entire ammunition supply in a roaring frenzy thirty seconds before the battle even began.

Ogryns became easily confused by complex orders. Thus, they required simple, direct commands and instructions to execute them properly—with the sole exception being a minority of individuals designated as "Bone'eads".

Furthermore, their complete disregard for personal hygiene remained a constant headache for the Astra Militarum.

However, once properly indoctrinated with Imperial dogma, their dog-like loyalty, resilient physiques, and immense strength transformed them into highly effective living weapons under the Imperium's organization.

Many senior Astra Militarum officers and Commissars were even willing to employ a few relatively intelligent, yet unflinchingly loyal Ogryns as personal bodyguards.

Therefore, it was easy to imagine that the moment these giants joined the fray, their roaring onslaught battered the advancing greenskins senseless, forcing them to turn tail and flee back to their starting positions.

The breach was temporarily plugged, but they were far from safe.

Amidst the trembling earth, a squadron of Sentinels strode out from a makeshift staging hangar situated at the far end of the landing zone.

Led by Sergeant Swann, the massive feet of the bipedal walkers shook the ground, casually crushing clusters of greenskins flat, while the autocannons mounted beneath their noses kept up a continuous barrage to scatter the enemy masses.

Flanked by two other Sentinels spewing chemical flames, the squad strode forward into the gun-smoke of the battlefield.

Far behind the relative safety of the greenskin lines, an Ork Nob emitted a static-laced sneer at the Stormboyz. Hopping up and down, it pointed at the three massive walkers rampaging across the front lines of the Ork horde.

Beneath the tyrannical crushing force of the walker's massive feet, the trukk beneath it was slowly crumpling.

The walkers provided continuous covering fire against the Shoota Boyz; one even lobbed explosive shells straight across the battlefield, obliterating a pack of Stikkbomb Boyz amidst the horde.

Responding to the Warboss's roar, the mob began to frantically cluster around a particular Stormboy.

Four Boyz held it down, while another strapped a massive rokkit to its back. A Mekboy slapped the Stormboy roaringly as it clanked and hammered, riveting the contraption directly into the Ork's tough hide.

"Iz countin' on ya! Kill dem Humies!"

When they finished, the dizzy and disoriented Stormboy clumsily got to its feet, threw a vicious punch right into the Mekboy's face, and then ignited the rokkit.

The exhaust flames incinerated a Gretchin attempting to crawl away; it barely managed a single shriek before it was reduced to a small pile of ash.

As the rokkit propelled the Stormboy into the air, it let out a bellowing Waaagh! The other Stormboyz stamped their feet on the ground in a cacophonous response.

The massive Ork carved a shallow arc through the air, brandishing its weapons as it flew over the heads of its kin.

Seconds later, it crashed into the flank of a Sentinel, driving its blade deep into the armor plating to prevent it from falling off.

Inside the Sentinel, Sergeant Swann leaned out of the cockpit, his eyes wide with terror as he frantically fumbled to draw the pistol at his belt. The Stormboy merely cackled wickedly in his face.

Then, without a shred of hesitation, it detonated the rokkit's warhead.

"Frag!"

Watching Swann's Sentinel explode, Sergeant Major Miller instantly dove back into the crater to avoid the concussive shockwave.

He remembered perfectly well that Swann had only been fighting on the battlefield for a matter of minutes.

The majority of the armored personnel had already scrambled up the opposite side of the crater, stumbling frantically toward the empty trenches amidst the rain of falling debris.

Miller could only scurry along behind them in a blind panic, desperately clinging to the insane belief that this path was safe.

BOOM—!

Suddenly, a massive string of explosions erupted between them and their destination throughout the area. Everyone instantly threw themselves to the ground, awaiting the inevitable shredding of their bodies by the blasts, yet the explosions inexplicably drew no closer.

Lying prone upon the rumbling earth, Miller stole a glance in the direction of the detonations.

Several steaming Orbital Drop Pods had slammed into the earth forming an impenetrable wall. The Ork gunfire plinking against them caused absolutely no damage.

Amidst a dull metallic clank and the hiss of depressurization, the assault ramps of the drop pods slowly began to lower.

A towering warrior emerged from the steaming drop pod nearest to Miller. He stood over two meters tall, clad in silver-grey power armor adorned with storm-dark clouds.

After striding out from the veil of steam, he calmly looked left and right, surveying the battlefield. The black lenses of his helmet flickered in tandem with his mind's processing and tactical calculations.

This majestic warrior made absolutely no attempt to seek cover from the howling fusillade of bullets.

Upon realizing exactly who these monstrous warriors were, Miller's jaw fell open in sheer awe.

They were the Adeptus Astartes—the Emperor's Space Marines.

Miller had heard the legends, but never in his life did he expect to lay eyes upon them.

Similar giants emerged from the other drop pods, and more followed from the first, assembling behind the unusually serene warrior.

They instantly fanned out into a broad wedge formation. The black lenses of their helmets scanned the battlefield, their bolters raised and ready to eliminate any targets of opportunity.

"Space Marines..."

Miller muttered to himself, uncertain if he should first cheer their arrival or immediately scramble for the crater behind them.

The Space Marine standing at the very forefront was the only one not wearing a helmet. When he looked down at Miller, who was sprawled out on a pile of rubble clearly intending to flee, the mortal couldn't help but curl up, attempting to hide from the Angel's gaze.

The Space Marine slowly evaluated him with an emotionless stare, then gestured for his squad to advance.

"Forward!"

Without a single word of hesitation, the silver-grey armored Space Marines broke into a sprint toward the thickest fighting on the front lines.

They bounded over craters, unleashing a burst of pinpoint-accurate bolter fire with every stride.

As the bolter rounds screamed over the heads of the Astra Militarum soldiers in the trenches and slammed into the greenskins, the embattled defenders erupted into a chorus of cheers, their strength instantly renewed.

The Angels had descended!