novelraw Chapter 164: Reduced to Ashes
Chapter 164: Reduced to Ashes
Despite being in an extremely disadvantageous position, the greenskins still struggled to counterattack, though their return fire was sporadic at best.
Some Space Marines didn't even bother taking cover, simply continuing to systematically eliminate their targets.
It took Soshyan a moment to understand why the greenskins' counterattack was so feeble.
A short while later, Sol arrived at the same conclusion.
"They don't have enough ammunition left."
The rest of the warriors gradually came to the same realization.
Soshyan could sense their overwhelming desire to charge forward and slaughter the xenos in melee—they yearned to see the terror in the enemy's eyes as they ended their lives, to spill the enemy's blood with their own hands.
Like them, Soshyan also wanted to mag-lock his bolter, draw his sword, and charge, to teach the xenos the consequences of offending humanity—
However, while theory might be elegant, practical combat could ill afford such emotional interference.
"Hold your positions."He broadcasted over the public vox-channel:
"Maintain fire."
Soshyan's voice left no room for ambiguity, rooting all the warriors firmly in place.
After enduring the hail of bullets a while longer, the greenskins ceased returning fire altogether.
Instead, braving the Astral Knights' relentless fusillade, they began a mad dash toward their destination. In the process, they abandoned their field artillery pieces, having realized the crude weapons were entirely useless against the power-armored warriors.
Hundreds of greenskins were gunned down as they sprinted across the open ground, yet a substantial number managed to survive.
They reached the smoke-enshrouded bunker. The thick smoke swallowed everything; not even Soshyan's auto-senses could penetrate the chemical-laden darkness.
Sol looked to him, awaiting his orders.
The corpses of the xenos littered the ground. Some might still be clinging to life, but they would soon learn what awaited them.
Soshyan, however, had no time to deal with them just yet. Instead, he opened a vox-link, connecting to a pre-established frequency.
"Logris, this is Soshyan. The enemy has entered the noose."
He spoke with a hint of a smile:
"Do you have an elegant solution for this?"
"Certainly, Chapter Master."
The vox-distorted voice of the Forge Master subsequently echoed in his ear.
"Executing now."
His voice was entirely devoid of inflection, ostensibly devoid of emotion—though Soshyan knew him well enough to understand he wasn't truly emotionless.
Hearing the exchange, Sol turned to stare into the darkness within the thick smoke, where a bunker purportedly lay.
A "safe" bunker.
At that moment, a beam of light tethered the heavens to the earth.
Even through the impenetrable darkness, Soshyan could feel the bunker being bodily lifted by an eruption of explosive kinetic energy, before vanishing entirely within a colossal cloud of fire.
Cohorts of Castellax-class Battle-Automata encircled the greenskins who had miraculously survived the blast, executing the slaughter with cold, mechanical efficiency.
They died like livestock.
When the intense electromagnetic pulses and localized overpressure finally dispersed the billowing smoke, absolutely nothing remained, save for a towering forest of steel.
Gazing upon the heavily vitrified earth and the half-incinerated, charred peaked cap lying upon the ground, Soshyan nodded in satisfaction, then gestured for Ustad to uproot the standard.
"Now, it is time for them to finish the job."
BOOM————!
As the 4337th Infantry Regiment and the Super-Heavy Tank Assault Battalion advanced, the artillery maintained a continuous barrage upon the enemy lines, striving to suppress the defenders for as long as possible.
The earth quaked beneath the advance of the war machines and the relentless artillery fire.
Macharius heavy tanks were not inherently slow, but their current pace was languid, moving perhaps only slightly faster than a brisk walk.
The men of the 4337th Regiment advanced alongside the tanks, utilizing them as mobile cover.
Initially, the Astral Knights' Armoured Assault Battalion encountered little resistance, until they crested a small slope.
Suddenly, the enemy brought their firepower to bear. The air was instantly saturated with searing laser beams and jagged shrapnel. Dry clods of earth were kicked high into the air by incoming fire, while shrapnel ricocheted off the tanks' armor, showering the flanking soldiers like a metallic rain.
Standing atop the Undead Pest, Lucian fired a short burst from his pintle-mounted twin-linked bolter before realizing the enemy was beyond his weapon's effective range and ceasing fire.
Then, a beam of superheated air struck from afar. A blinding red lance of energy melted through a section of armor plating on the Undead Pest's left track guard, blowing the molten slag away.
"Argh————!"
A soldier shrieked in agony, his body convulsing as his hands flew to his face, where a jagged piece of molten slacked had embedded itself in his cheek.
But at this juncture, no one could afford the time to save him.
"Take out that heavy weapons team! Secondary armament, prepare to fire on my mark. Three, two..."
The tank juddered violently as it pivoted ten degrees to the right, prompting Lucian to tighten his grip on the handrail.
Subsequently, a deep, resonant hum joined the roar of the engines, sending heavy vibrations through the combat platform.
The heavy bolter mounted in the hull engaged, its twin-linked, five-barreled rotary cannons beginning to spool up. The rumbling of the hydraulic motors escalated into a high-pitched whine as the barrels accelerated to their optimal firing rpm.
"One... Fire!"
The report of the heavy bolter was like rolling thunder, forming a wall of sound that vibrated through bone and marrow.
The noise was so deafening that even anticipating it, Lucian's ears began to ring agonizingly.
The next second, fist-sized bolter rounds erupted from the barrels, propelled by their internal rocket motors to create a spectacular fireworks display just ahead of the front line.
Simultaneously, a veritable hailstorm of shells shrieked toward the enemy. Risking a headshot, Lucian peeked over the cupola to observe the results—
He watched as the enemy defensive line was pulverized into rubble by the sheer density of the barrage. Everything, including the damned xenos, was blown to jagged pieces by the bolter rounds tearing into the fortifications.
While the exact fate of the artillery crew hiding behind the defenses and firing upon the Undead Pest remained unknown, it was safe to say there would be no more pesky heavy weapons in that vicinity to further irritate a Macharius heavy tank.
Following this, the armor accelerated, rolling down the small slope before the firing line without showing the slightest intention of slowing their pace.
Then, they approached the artillery bombardment zone.
Once more, the super-heavy bolters roared to life.
The enemy's return fire momentarily slackened before intensifying once again.
Warheads clanged against the Undead Pest's frontal armor. Clods of dirt and debris, kicked up by the explosions, flew into the open cupola hatch, prompting a chorus of grumbles and complaints.
"Artillery, friendly forces in the zone! Cease fire, cease fire!"
Subsequently, the explosions grew less frequent but significantly closer—they were enemy shells.
Eventually, they reached the periphery of the enemy's defensive lines, the source of the punishing crossfire—a sprawling complex of bunkers.
It was difficult to fathom that such sophisticated fortifications were the product of greenskin design.
Enemy fire hammered against both flanks of the Undead Pest. In response, the autocannons mounted on the lateral sponsons of the Macharius heavy tank swiveled outward, returning fire with equal ferocity.
The battlefield devolved into absolute chaos. The sheer volume of crisscrossing laser beams dazzled Lucian's eyes, forcing him to blink rapidly to clear his vision from the blinding glare.
"Third Platoon, return fire!"
Upon reaching the front, the infantry finally served their purpose.
Commissar Yarrick began roaring at the soldiers sheltering behind the tanks. Left with no other option, the men broke from their relative safety, deploying into firing lines amidst the hail of bullets.
Compared to the devastating firepower of the heavy armor, their lasguns seemed like mere children's toys.
Yet, even so, it was sufficient to lay down suppressive fire, forcing the enemy to keep their heads down behind the trenches, a task further aided by the flanking fire of the heavy stubber teams.
Yarrick drew his sidearm and cast a glance over his shoulder.
The first wave of Chimera transports from the initial assault had already pushed into the vanguard. However, one Chimera suffered a direct hit and subsequently catastrophically detonated; its metal hull failed to contain the internal explosion, sending its turret rocketing into the sky while the burning chassis formed an impenetrable exclusion zone, ensuring no one could escape.
Yarrick offered a brief, silent prayer for the fallen, entirely unconcerned with whether the shadow of death might just as easily fall upon his own head.
"Enemy assault! Prepare to repel boarders!!"