Warhammer Inquisitor

Chapter 309 The Rise of the Primarch: Young Warriors
The golden tungsten ferroalloy armor-piercing warhead is lying quietly in the dark, its body is placed flat in the two stable grooves of the ammunition box, and the soft anti-collision sponge is attached to the surrounding box, just like a comfortable and comfortable 's bedroom.

But its comfortable sleeping life is about to end. The flip cover of the ammunition box is suddenly opened, and the dazzling light is irradiated into the box. The ammunition box that enters with the light also has a hand, a dirty Xixi, but a very stable big hand.

The arm stretched into the box instantly, and the two hands pulled the thick armor-piercing warhead out of the box. The owner of the two hands hugged the cannonball and turned around and kicked his legs to stand up from the ground. His face and the big hands looked completely different. Belonging to the same person, that big hand seems to belong to a seasoned warrior, but its owner's face is undoubtedly very young.

The young soldier wore a steel helmet on his head. He held the cannonball and rushed to the anti-tank gun erected in front of him. There are many soldiers as young as him, all of them wearing steel helmets and gray In uniform, he was busy around the anti-tank guns with guns on his back.

"Hurry up! Toulouse! Hurry up!" The shooter who was squatting behind the CNC scope on the side of the anti-tank gun turned his head and shouted, and he shouted at the young loader who was rushing behind him with the cannonball in his arms. That was the loader of Toulouse After rushing through the group of comrades, he came to the back of the anti-tank gun with a sliding shovel, and pushed the armor-piercing projectile into the gun chamber with both hands.

As Toulouse loaded the cannonball into the gun chamber, the deputy shooter who was already on standby quickly covered the breech block. He grabbed both sides of the knob and slammed the breech block tightly, then turned and patted the shooter on the shoulder, "Filled!"

"Loaded!" The shooter raised his arms and shouted at the soldiers behind him. Everyone immediately dispersed. They crouched behind the anti-tank gun and lowered their bodies. The shooter turned his head and held the firing trigger. Sit down, behind the green CNC scope.

The shooter held the firing trigger, and through the optical sight on it, he locked onto a model of a tank that was driving in front of him. The full-size model of the Leman Russ tank was moving slowly. It looked very simple. There is no external armor like the real Leman Russ main battle tank on its body, the attached weapon rack or the soldiers squatting on it, and even the gun barrel is made of a steel pipe inserted into it.

But the bare tank model pressed the tracks under it, and the heavy and wide armored tracks rolled on the ground and rumbled forward, and billowing black smoke was ejected from the exhaust port at the end. The full-size model that moved forward, It looks like a real tank.

"Aim and fire!" The shooter roared and pulled the trigger. As the firing trigger was snapped by his finger, the anti-tank gun's barrel quickly exploded, and the recoilless braking structure went outward from the back of the gun. Popping out, along with the ejection of the braking structure, the rotating armor-piercing projectile roared out from the muzzle.

The dazzling flame instantly filled the entire shooter's field of vision, and the fiery airflow hit the front gun mantlet. The scorching heat flow was blocked and quickly spread to both sides, but the surrounding ground was still raised under the impact of the recoil. a piece of dust.

The armor-piercing bullet hit the side armor of the advancing tank at once, and the black iron alloy armor-piercing bullet quickly penetrated its side armor, and the armor fragments that exploded like petals poured upward, leaving a thick bullet hole on the side of the armor-piercing bullet.

But the cannonball failed to stop the tank from advancing. The tank was still rumbling forward. The shooter looked at the advancing model and cursed. He turned to look at the young comrade-in-arms behind him and roared, "Reload! Quick!"

His young but calm, well-trained comrades quickly sent another armor-piercing round into the gun chamber. As the breech block closed again, the shooter clenched the trigger again and slowly moved with the tank.

His fingers gently shook the launch sensor to one side, and the disc rotating shaft under the anti-tank gun immediately turned with his body, the gun body turned to one side along his eyes, and the sight and the muzzle were dead. locked on the advancing tank.

The shooter took a deep breath and stared at the crosshair, then suddenly pulled the trigger, with the heavy cannon rumbled and vibrated backward again, the cannonball roared out of the muzzle, and hit the moving tank again. Once the shell pierced the front armor of the tank, and the whistling shell pierced the side of the driver's seat.

The tank rumbled to a halt after moving on a few steps, and it stopped on the shooting range with thick smoke, joining several other tank models already smoking on the field.

The young members of the anti-tank artillery team cheered and cheered. The young people stood up and cheered with joy and excitement on their smiling faces. The shooter also stood up and turned to look at his cheering team members.

But as the young people cheered, Toulouse, the loader, inadvertently looked at the shooting range, staring wide-eyed at a newly emerging tank, the rumbling tank spewing black smoke coming in from the edge of the field," Silva! One more!"

The captain of this squad, the shooter Silva turned his head to look at the tank that rushed into the battlefield. Its heavy tracks rushed up the hill and then jumped down. The huge tank drove in with a roar and smoked thick smoke. On the battlefield, fire from among the remaining destroyed tanks.

"Reload! Reload now!" Silva shouted to his comrades behind him and rushed back to the anti-tank gun. He quickly re-held the sight of the anti-tank gun, and his eyes locked on the advancing vehicle through the optical sight. tank.

Toulouse strode to the ammunition box at the back. He buried his head and looked at the cannonball box under him. Toulouse turned his head and shouted in the direction of Silva, "Silva! There is only one shell left!"

Silva sat on the ground and turned his head to look at Toulouse. After a moment of silence, he punched the gun beside him, "A cannonball is also a cannonball! Load it!"

"Are you sure? Silva, we need at least two shells to penetrate a tank, first to paralyze or slow down, and then hit the key with one shot."

"Shut up, Toulouse! I'll let you reload!" The shooter Silva shouted and squeezed the trigger. Toulouse, who was behind him, glanced at his comrades around him, and immediately picked up the last armor-piercing bullet and rushed to the anti-tank gun. Behind him, he pushed the shell into the barrel, and the heavy warhead was pushed into the barrel.

The sub-shooter once again skillfully closed the breech block. Toulouse made sure that the shell was loaded and immediately ran from behind the gun to the side. After all the soldiers behind him rushed to the place where the brake could not hit the rebound, Toulouse braked abruptly. Rushing to Silva's side, he pressed his shoulders and looked at the tank.

"It's loaded, are you sure you have a way to make it stop?"

"For the Emperor's sake, Toulouse, have you ever seen a time when you can't do anything about it?" Silva squeezed the trigger with a smile, his fingers lifted slightly, and the optical sight on the sight was locked. The chassis of the tank, aiming at the rotating tracks.

Silva pulled the trigger, and the whistling shells rumbled out. In the flames gushing out from the end of the projectile, the rotating armor-piercing shells traversed the entire shooting range and hit the track of the tank. On the side, the rotating track was instantly broken under the impact of the shell, and the connection point of the continuously rotating track was blown into two halves. The track of the tank continued to move forward with the moving runner, and soon fell off the end.

As the crawler hit the ground heavily, the tank stopped. The tank collapsed to the ground like a beast with its front legs cut off. Can't move outside.

"Win! Long live the Emperor!" Silva cheered and raised his arms after sitting in the shooting position. All the comrades behind him also stood up and cheered with arms raised and guns. They looked at the paralyzed tank. shouted loudly.

"Long live the Emperor! For the Emperor!" the warriors cheered, hugging each other's shoulders, but while they were in a good mood and celebrating victory, one was not so happy.

Behind the firing position of the anti-tank guns, the man with the telescope on the high platform lowered the thing, his eyes adorned with a horrific scar, revealed as the thick mirror of the telescope was lowered, and he frowned. Looking at the tank that stopped advancing, then looked at the cheering young students below.

"Let them gather and stand in line for me immediately!" The strong man in a black military uniform with a golden skull and an imperial eagle on his shoulders turned his head and said. The young officer behind him, also wearing a black military uniform, was startled and immediately turned to him. After standing at attention and saluting, he turned and ran down the high platform.

The man with a striking scar on his face turned around, he hung the binoculars around his neck, and most of him passed between several command students and academy officers under the eaves of the high platform.

The man with the scar on his face walked out of the high platform and walked down the side steps quickly. A group of entourage officers behind him quickly followed, and they followed behind the man and strode towards the active students.

Before the man arrived, the young officer who had rushed out ran to the students, and he shouted at them, "Stand at attention! Dean Nakhimov is here."

The students were shocked, and the cheering atmosphere disappeared immediately. Everyone immediately lined up beside the anti-tank guns with their guns on their backs. Silva put the laser guns behind his back, and he hurried back to his team. , he turned his head to look at the team members around him and quickly gave orders.

"All look to the right, stand at attention, and salute!" He said, immediately raising his arms to salute the approaching Dean of Nakhimov Academy.

"Report to the dean of the Nakhimov Academy, the tenth grade infantry anti-tank squad 6 has completed the training, please instruct, squad leader Silva Vasnikov." Silva looked at the Nakhimov Academy who was approaching. The dean said with a salute, the latter gradually slowed down, and he walked up to a group of people and saluted Silva.

"The whole class rests for a while, now the monitor Silva, I want to ask you a question." The dean of Nakhimov Academy said and walked slowly to Silva. The strong and tall dean of Nakhimov Academy stood in front of the young In front of Silva, it was as if a giant bear was standing with a little fox.

"Why do you want to attack the track part?" the head of the Nakhimov Academy asked, looking at the paralyzed tank in front, and Silva raised his head proudly after looking at the tank, "Report, our training mission is to stop all tanks from advancing , so I chose to interrupt the crawler to complete the interception."

"But have you ever thought that the turret of the tank can still be turned around when the track of the tank was interrupted by you?!" The head of the Nakhimov Academy turned to look at Silva beside him and roared, it was like a cannon in Silva's ears were buzzing with a roar like a cannon in his ears. He subconsciously wanted to take a step back, but he quickly controlled himself and stood there and looked at the dean of Nakhimov Academy.

"President Nakhimov, our mission is to stop the tanks from advancing, and we did that?"

"You stopped the tank from moving forward, but the damn tank also turned the turret and killed you and your crew with one shot, then removed the threat and methodically reattached the tracks! Five minutes in a row No need, the tank can run again."

The headmaster stood in front of Silva, standing in front of him like a mountain, and Headmaster Nakhimov pointed to the tank over there, "What did you teach in class? Tell me, squad leader, when a single artillery unit attacked a tank. What are the rules."

"Attack the parts that cannot be replaced urgently on the battlefield, such as the engine, cockpit and turret motor, completely paralyze the tank, or make the opponent incapacitated." Silva said, looking at the comrades around him with some fear, then He looked at the dean of Nakhimov Academy in front of him.

"But Dean Nakhimov, we only have one shell, and our mission is to stop them from advancing." "Very good, then do you want me to tell the enemy when you are on the battlefield, you are hit After the crawler is not allowed to counterattack, is not allowed to repair, is it just sitting here paralyzed?!"

Silva didn't know what to say for a while at the words of the Dean of Nakhimov Academy. He looked at Dean Nakhimov in front of him and hesitated, but stood in front of him and stood up instinctively.

Dean Nakhimov looked at the young student in front of him, he raised his hand and pointed to the anti-tank gun on the side, "There is no time for you to be clever on the battlefield, your arrogant and arrogant little tricks just now are not only useless, but also useless. It will kill everyone under your command."

The head of the tall Nakhimov Academy walked in front of the young students. He looked at the students standing in a row beside him, and his eyes under the scar looked at the young people around him, "After you graduate from the loyal students, , will become officers, and if you make one mistake, you will kill dozens, hundreds, or even more, and for the Emperor's sake, the battle line will collapse because of your mistake."

The students all stood in a row, staring intently at the dean of Nakhimov academy who passed by. The tall, middle-aged dean of Nakhimov academy walked to the end of the line, and the officers in front of him also all Stand aside and watch him.

"Terra is about to go to war. In order to defend the throne, everyone in the entire academy has to go to battle, and you, as tenth graders, have made such a mistake, why do you think you go to battle for the Emperor? The only thing you can do is go up and be killed by traitors in the blink of an eye, dedicate it to their god damn master, and shame the Emperor."

The dean of Nakhimov Academy sighed and turned to look at the students behind him. Silva and his team members all stood in a row, staring intently at the dean of Nakhimov Academy.

"Your parents are martyrs, heroes of the Empire, but I hope you can live, because each of you is the future of the Imperial Army, do you understand what I mean?"

"Understood!" The students responded neatly, and the dean of Nakhimov Academy nodded slightly when he looked at them. He looked at Silva at the front of the team, "Re-training, this time the tank will paralyze the target with a shell. , do you know what to do?"

"Hit the engine and the cockpit!" "Very good, keep the ammunition, don't shoot artillery shells like the bastards of the Defense Forces, don't be clever this time." "Understood!"

The dean of Nakhimov Academy looked at the student monitor in front of him with satisfaction. He raised his hand and saluted him, "Go ahead." "Yes."

Silva saluted Dean Nakhimov and immediately turned to face his students, "Toulouse will take people to get the shells, and the rest will recalibrate the artillery." "Yes!"

Dean Nakhimov watched as he immediately dispersed, and the busy students sighed softly. Dean Nakhimov looked up at the sky surrounded by the high wall above his head. Orbit, looking at the sailing warships, he knew that chaos would soon descend from the sky, and they, these children, had to go to war.

They were all just children, teenagers and early twenties. They were not ready for war at all. These men and women were taught by him and his instructors. They are the future of the empire. , but many people will die here, in the coming war.

They have no choice, neither the empire nor humanity has a choice. Facing the dark galaxy, the future of the entire human civilization is the same as these children. The candles swaying in the wind may be extinguished at any time.

Just as Dean Nakhimov looked at the sky and sighed, an officer beside him leaned up from the side. He walked up to Dean Nakhimov and said in a low voice, "Sir, someone is here, he asked you to come over and ask for it. see you."

"Who?" Dean Nakhimov turned his head to look at the officer in surprise, he shook his head, and just pointed to the high wall gate on the edge of the training ground, "I don't know, but where is he waiting for you, I guess it's a big man, yes Deputy Dean Nakhimov contacted me personally."

The dean of Nakhimov Academy was silent for a moment, then he nodded and looked at the officers around him, "You stay and supervise their training, I will go alone." "Yes, sir."

The officers collectively saluted the Dean of Nakhimov Academy. Dean Nakhimov walked towards the high wall after saluting them in response. Dean Nakhimov's boots were walking on the steel ground, behind him. The sound of the guns rang again, and the training resumed, but Dean Nakhimov did not look at them, but walked straight to the high wall.

He walked to the magnificent gate, which was the steel gate leading to other areas inside the academy. Dean Nakhimov looked at the huge eagle logo inlaid on the gate above his head. The symbol of the empire was shining brightly on it. The ground flashed, Dean Nakhimov looked at the sign and lowered his head, looking at a black car parked outside the gate.

The black car was very low-key, but it was also very eye-catching for the simple reason that there was a man leaning on the door of the car, a man also dressed in black, leaning on the door.

"What about the trainees? I hope I didn't disturb you." The man leaning on the car looked up at the Sky Eagle logo above his head. He turned his back to Dean Nakhimov, but quickly lowered his head and turned his face. He turned towards Dean Nakhimov, which allowed Dean Nakhimov to see his face clearly.

When Dean Nakhimov saw it clearly, he stood at attention and saluted him without any hesitation, "Lord Angvar, I didn't expect the Supreme Lord of the Tribunal to appear here."

"What? Are you afraid I'll scare your students?" Angwa said with a joking smile, while Dean Nakhimov shook his head gently. He turned his head to look at the students who were training. The dazzling light of artillery fire shone light their way.

"No, they are not cowards, and some of them will become judges in the future. Are you here for the selection of new judges?" President Nakhimov turned his head to look at Angwa and asked in surprise. The man stood up with a smile, and patted the roof of the black car beside him.

"It's not me who is looking for you, I'm just a driver who is responsible for taking you there."

"Driver? Who can have such a large lineup that the High Lord of the Tribunal can act as a driver for him?" asked the dean of Nakhimov Academy in confusion. After a moment of silence, he looked at Angwa with a surprised expression. Expression, "Lord Chief Speaker of the High Lord's Council?"

"No, he's bigger than him, and besides, how could I help those idiots drive?" Angvar said, and opened the door, then got into the car, sat in the driver's seat and clenched the steering wheel, "Okay, get in the car, he's waiting for you."

Not far away, the dean of Nakhimov Academy obviously still didn't understand, but he still walked to the side of the car and looked at Angwa sitting in it, "Who?" "God, get in the car now, we Don't make him wait too long."

(End of this chapter)