I summoned the Fourth Scourge in Warhammer

Chapter 106 War? It's normal for things to change in countless ways.

The charging column of over a hundred players, like a sharp blade drawn from its sheath, fiercely met the steel torrent of Pig Riders.

There was no dodging, no detours, and not even the slightest retreat.

On the sand dunes, two raging waves collided with a deafening roar. The instant of impact was one of carnage. Players' bodies were easily shattered by the immense force of the impact, the crisp sound of breaking bones drowned out by the roar of chainswords. And the fearless players, in the moments before being knocked away, poured all their remaining strength into the bodies of their enemies.

The chainsaw sword tore through the cyber pig's metal shell, the machete cleaved into the war pig's flesh, and the power weapon pierced through both rider and mount. It was a most primitive and savage exchange, where life became the cheapest commodity.

The battle began quickly and ended even faster. The brief but brutal skirmish came to a close when the last pig-riding boy ran over the last player's corpse.

The initial counter-attack of over a hundred players was completely wiped out.

As a price, more than seventy pig riders and their mounts perished on the sand dunes, their remains mingling with the corpses of the players, forming a horrifying barrier of flesh and blood.

After all, not everyone can time their attacks as precisely as the first player to charge, delivering the weapon precisely into the war pig's brain under the immense impact. Moreover, whether the brain of those [Cyber ​​Pigs] with their thick cables and exhaust pipes is truly vital, or even whether they possess a biological brain at all, is entirely unknown.

When the company commander revealed the 100-to-70 exchange ratio he had written in his system log, everyone's eyes lit up.

"Holy crap! The casualty ratio is almost one to one!"

"What do you mean one-to-one? Our class didn't even get many kills, what a loss!"

"Loss my ass! We can revive! Can they? This is a huge profit!"

"Brothers, what are we waiting for? It's just hedging, right? Let's do it!"

The word "coward" has never existed in their dictionary!
Suddenly, the situation on the battlefield became incredibly bizarre. Even before the greenskins charged into the position, the players in the trenches jumped out, shouting all sorts of slogans, launching wave after wave of suicidal counter-charges against the surging greenskin army.

Such fanatical and fearless behavior truly surprised Red-Eyed, the war boss watching from afar. His thick eyebrows furrowed as he watched the shrimps who had willingly charged out of the trenches to perish alongside his pig-riding minions.

It stroked its chin and muttered to itself, "I didn't expect these shrimps to actually have some courage. I misunderstood them before!"

If Red Eyes was taken aback, then JK, who was in the rear command post, was utterly shocked.

"Holy shit?" He cursed on the spot, feeling his blood pressure skyrocketing. He grabbed the communicator and roared at the top of his lungs, "No matter what, those in the artillery and heavy fire positions, do not advance! Hold your weapons and continue to provide fire support for your comrades! Do you hear me?!"

What he fears most now is that players wielding crucial heavy weapons might get carried away and engage in hand-to-hand combat with the green-skinned soldiers using bayonets.

Fortunately, reassuring news soon arrived. Most of the artillery and heavy weapons operators in the rear were safely on their positions, diligently firing, for a very simple and practical reason:

For ordinary infantry players, it takes dozens of people focusing their fire on the position to eliminate a single Pig Rider. The merit points gained from this feel like trying to win money from a claw machine. It's better to rush out of the trenches and try to trade one for one.

But for the heavy weapons operators, every time they fire, whether with heavy explosives or automatic cannons, they create massive kills and assists within the Greenskins' formation. Their firepower is like raking in money with sacks of potatoes—the efficiency is astonishing.

Therefore, there was absolutely no need for them to give up their comfortable and high-paying jobs to go to the front lines and engage in a one-for-one exchange. Originally, according to JK's plan, melee combat was bound to break out, which would be a fierce tug-of-war inside and outside the trenches, with the greenskins surging into the players' positions like a tidal wave.

Then, he would direct the troops of each company and platoon to launch orderly counterattacks and divide the enemy, turning every inch of trench into a meat grinder, maximizing the use of terrain advantages to deplete the enemy's manpower. Every position would be fought over repeatedly until one side bled to its last drop.

Now, hand-to-hand combat has broken out, and the sand dunes have indeed become a meat grinder.

However, instead of the greenskins charging into the position, it was the players who actively rushed out of the position, howling and shouting to fight the greenskins. The entire battlefield was completely out of control, turning into a boiling pot of porridge, with the green waves and the human torrents mixed together, making it impossible to distinguish one from the other.

JK's meticulously detailed battle plan, down to the platoon level, instantly became a worthless piece of paper in the face of the players' overwhelming enthusiasm for "suicide."

"These disobedient bastards!"

However, war is full of unpredictable changes. After a brief emotional breakdown, JK quickly accepted the current reality and began to force herself to think about how to improve things from this chaotic situation.

His first thought was to get heavy firepower support from his own side.

His original plan was that even if the greenskins charged onto the battlefield and engaged in a fierce battle with the players, since the fighting was mainly confined to the vicinity of the trench line, the heavy firepower from the rear could still strike the enemies who followed up onto the ridgeline without any scruples, forming an effective fire blockade line.

But now, the players have charged out on their own and are completely entangled with the enemies on the ridgeline.

This leads to an extremely fatal problem—collateral damage.

In just a few minutes, JK witnessed several infantrymen being killed by shrapnel from the heavy bomb explosions, and naturally, the players' angry roars came through the communication channel after they respawned.

"Damn it! You son of a gunner with the heavy machine gun! You hit me!"

"Artillery! Artillery, where the hell are you bombing?!"

This can't go on! If we let the heavy firepower keep bombarding us indiscriminately, the Orks won't all be killed, and our own people will start fighting amongst themselves.

"Attention all heavy firepower units!" JK immediately grabbed the communicator and issued a new order: "Raise your gun barrels and fire at the enemy behind you in a parabolic trajectory!"
"Raise your guns and fire in a parabolic trajectory at the enemy! Repeat, fire in a parabolic trajectory at the enemy! Do not fire directly at areas in contact with our personnel!"

The order was timely. The artillery and heavy machine gunners in the rear immediately raised their gun barrels, and a devastating hail of bullets swept across the fierce hand-to-hand combat zone, slashing like the scythe of death into the ranks of the green-skinned infantry and vehicles that followed.

In an instant, chaos erupted in the rear of the Greenskins, while the pressure on the front lines of the melee was greatly reduced.

The players at the front continued to expend their lives at an alarming rate, but they also held the Greenskins' vanguard firmly at bay, preventing them from advancing an inch. The entire dune ridgeline had become a massive, bloody meat grinder, with players and Greenskins constantly falling, and new players constantly rushing out of the trenches to fill the gaps.

JK looked at the tactical map and sighed deeply. He abandoned any further plans for detailed command.

(End of this chapter)