Warhammer: Hail to the Void Lords!.

Chapter 999, 08.998: "Rana's Trump Card"

However, on the other side, on that vast front, the Sintira Army's reformed forces are facing a hellish test.

The desert at night is no longer as desolate as it usually is.

The air was thick with the stench of gunpowder, blood, and alien creatures, and the earth trembled under the relentless barrage of fire.

This was an extremely chaotic five-way battle where friend and foe were indistinguishable.

In this meat grinder, they are simultaneously engaged in a bloody struggle against the cunning and ruthless Dark Eldar, the raging and violent Greenskins, the stubborn and unyielding Severus rebels, and... another, even more deadly "ally"—the Sinti conservative army.

The sky was torn apart as the Dark Eldar's "Raiders" and "Venom" and other near-air mobile vehicles, like a swarm of bloodthirsty metal wasps, relentlessly launched dive attacks on the armored forces of the Third Cavalry Corps, their dark matter spears leaving molten scars on the armor of the Imperial tanks.

On the ground, the green wave never stops.

Lured by the insidious provocation of the "black bean sprouts" they spoke of, the massive greenskin horde roared and bypassed the traitor Severus's position, unleashing their endless fury and violence upon the Imperial armored forces that appeared larger, tougher, and more worthy of a "Waaaagh."

What gave the frontline commander, Brigadier General Jean Lannes of the Astronautical Army, who had taken over all of Major General Leclerc's troops, an even bigger headache was those "friendly forces."

Sintira's conservative forces completely refused any orders to cooperate in combat.

Without issuing any warnings whatsoever, they continued their usual practice of indiscriminately bombarding the entire combat zone with the legion's heavy artillery.

The whistling shells fell indiscriminately, blasting loyal Imperial soldiers, aliens, and traitors into the sky.

This act of betrayal, from another perspective of dark humor, perfectly illustrates the tactical qualities of "Wind, Forest, Fire, Mountain"—when the battle situation is dangerous, retreat swiftly; when guns and cannons are like a forest, friendly forces may be accidentally injured; when looting supplies, invade like fire; when friendly forces are in trouble, remain as immovable as a mountain.

"Brigadier General Citizen! Our offensive has been thwarted again! The 3rd Grenadier Battalion failed to capture the enemy position within the allotted time... Please issue new instructions!"

A messenger rode swiftly from the front lines, his once-glorious uniform now covered in dust and gunpowder, his face etched with exhaustion and anxiety.

He nimbly dismounted, not even having time to soothe his mount, and panted as he reported, "We were almost there! Just as the valiant grenadiers were about to charge the enemy's position, shells came flying from who knows where and rained down on our own men!"

The Severo rebels remained unharmed in the trenches, while our soldiers were mowed down by shrapnel from their own men in the open!
Those brave warriors who managed to charge into the enemy trenches were all annihilated due to being outnumbered! The Third Battalion…the Third Battalion was almost wiped out, but the position was still in enemy hands.

"..." Brigadier General Jean Lannes stood in front of the makeshift command post on the hillside, his face grim, and moved away from the artillery telescope.

He remained silent, but his hands, gripping the telescope stand tightly with white knuckles, betrayed the raging fury within him.

"Draw up the reserve team and launch a fourth assault."

He finally suppressed his anger and issued a new order in a cold and clear voice: "This time, choose point 27 as the main point of attack."

"Report! Brigade Commander, citizen!"

Before his order could be relayed, another messenger rode up on horseback.

The soldier and his horse were covered in blood, their faces ashen, their expressions contorted with pain. A stray bullet had pierced his shoulder, and the makeshift bandage was soaked with blood, still oozing out.

"The greens are launching a fierce attack on our left flank!"

He saw his comrade preparing to relay the order, a flash of despair crossed his eyes, and he cried out in panic, "No, we can't draw any more reserves! If we do, our left flank will be completely breached by those greens!"

After speaking, the messenger weakly slumped onto his warhorse, teetering on the verge of collapse. The medic beside him rushed forward, pulled him off the horse, and began treating his wounds and providing first aid.

Brigadier General Rana immediately turned the heavy artillery scope to the left flank.

The front line was shrouded in smoke, and the green waves, like a flood breaking through a dam, were frantically assaulting his flesh-and-blood steel defense line, which was built by grenadiers relying on Leman Rustank.

His soldiers, under the command of the officer with the sword, formed a tight hollow square and fired volleys at the charging greens in rows. The laser beams burned brief gaps in the green sea, but were quickly filled by more greens.

"Waaaaaagh!!! Minions, charge! Chop up these shrimps in tall hats!!!"

The greenskins, riding their monstrous beasts known as "Jumpers," launched a fierce "pig charge" against the grenadier lines.

With their enormous size and brute strength, the Scuds rampaged through the crowd, unstoppable, each leap and landing accompanied by the terrifying sound of bones shattering.

The rider above wielded a huge, rusty machete, and as he swiftly passed the infantry, he could cut several soldiers in half with a single stroke.

Despite being alien creatures riding on other alien creatures, they displayed the ferocity and power of a main battle tank.

The grenadiers, with their strict discipline and formation, managed to stabilize the front line with blood and steel, but they were already exhausted and had no strength left to launch a new charge.

The cuirassiers were engaged in fierce fighting with the green-skinned Sgug cavalry on both sides and were also unable to break away.

This young brigadier general has fewer and fewer cards left to play.

"Summon the grenadier guards."

He drew his power sword from his waist, and with a deep hum, the disintegration field was activated, and a deadly blue light emanated from the blade.

He ordered, "I will personally lead the guards in the assault."

Upon hearing this, the staff officers nearby were greatly alarmed.

"But brigade commander, you are the commander of the entire army!" a staff officer exclaimed urgently.

"Before becoming a brigadier general, I was a grenadier." The brigadier general's voice was firm and unwavering.

"You each have a copy of the operation plan. Strictly follow it. As for documents that require my signature, we'll discuss them when I return."

The troops guarding the area around the command post began to assemble.

These battle veterans, wearing towering bearskin hats, with burly builds and an average age of over forty-five, were dressed in heavy armor, their ammunition slings laden with high-explosive fragmentation grenades and molten metal bombs.

They are veterans who have served for more than ten years, the pride of the grenadier regiment, and Rana's last trump card.

Amidst the majestic sounds of drums and flutes, they formed a disciplined battle formation, starting from the rear command post.

"Grenadier Guard! Towards target—advance!" Rana, his left hand gripping the scabbard, ran to the front of the column. He raised his power saber, gleaming with a blue light, high in his right hand, pointing it at the enemy lines, and roared an attack.

(End of this chapter)