I summoned the Fourth Scourge in Warhammer

Chapter 200 Then look behind you.

The Tyranid offensive resembled an endless tide of flesh and blood, wave after wave crashing against the stubborn reef of the "Hedgehog" fortress. The mortar positions behind it roared incessantly, unleashing tons of high-explosive ammunition across the no-man's-land. Each explosion sent up a cloud of mud and bits of flesh, relieving immense pressure on the front lines.

The battle unfolded into a brutal yet highly efficient cycle. The vast majority of the Zerg swarm was decimated by the outer defenses and artillery fire. Occasionally, a few escaped and managed to reach the trenches, only to be instantly torn to shreds by the crossfire. If luck was extremely poor and one or two elite units or a small swarm managed to break through the defenses, the Oglin player in the company would roar and charge forward. His massive body became the best mobile cover, using his flesh and blood and his club to buy precious firing time for his teammates behind him.

Although there was only one Oglin in the entire company, it was not easy for Tyron to frequently rush to the front in this kind of heavily fortified positional warfare, so overall, it was just enough.

However, what held this steel defense line together was the massive consumption of ammunition. After the battle had lasted for nearly an hour, a change quietly occurred.

The first to fall silent was the heavy logging gun, which had been roaring the loudest in the fortress. The name was pulled, the trigger clicked weakly a few times, and then it never spat out another deadly tongue of fire.

He turned his head and looked at a member of the suicide squad who should have gone to the ammunition depot to get ammunition, but was now leisurely leaning against the wall, as if admiring the scorched earth landscape: "Out of ammunition?"

The team member shrugged and spread his hands: "Isn't it obvious?"

Just then, a series of hollow sounds echoed within the fortress, like a plague. The laser guns in the hands of the other players also became unresponsive after the triggers were pulled, leaving only the indicator lights flashing weakly. Several suicide bombers took several magazines from the campfire to reload, but they all only emitted hollow sounds of running out of power.

"Squad leader, I'm out of bullets."

"My gun misfired too."

"Me too."

Mingzi frowned, wondering whether he should use the company channel to ask the neighboring position to spare some bullets, when a shout came through the trenches first: "Hey! Brothers in the next platoon! Do you have any bullets left? Could you spare some?"

An awkward silence lingered for a second on C3's side.

He took a deep breath and roared back at the other side of the trench, "We're done for too! Fix bayonets!"

"Oh shit!"

Without hesitation, the suicide bombers discarded their worthless guns, which were barely worth as little as firewood, and drew various melee weapons from their backs or waists. Chainsaws hummed, power swords gleamed with energy, and many more drew standard combat knives, preparing for their final revelry.

The swarm won't stop just because you're out of ammo. Without the suppression of ranged fire, the Terran tide broke through the outer defenses at an unprecedented speed, surging into the trenches in a dark mass.

The narrow, zigzag passageway made of concrete was instantly transformed into the most primitive and bloody arena.

A knife-like insect leaped down from the wall, attempting to pounce on a player, but he dodged to the side and simultaneously swung his chainsaw sword, cleaving the insect in two from top to bottom. However, before he could catch his breath, another knife-like insect, hanging upside down from the ceiling, lashed down with its scythe-like forelegs, piercing his chest with lightning speed.

"Kill them, Emperor!" the player roared in his last moments, clinging tightly to the insects on his body and blocking a corner of the passage with his own.

"Hold the intersection!" the name shouted.

Oglin roared, wedging his massive body at the entrance to the trench, his club flashing like a blur, smashing any insects that tried to approach into pieces, their flesh and bones flying everywhere. He was like an impregnable city gate, while the players behind him used the cover he created to relentlessly stab the swarming insects through the gaps with their bayonets.

The battle had transcended tactics, reduced to pure slaughter and being slaughtered. The Tyranids swarmed in from the ground, walls, ceilings—from every imaginable angle. The fallen warriors brandished their weapons, hacking and slashing at their enemies with all their might.

A player was pounced on by three knife-like insects. Before being torn apart, he detonated the last grenade he had on him. The deafening explosion turned him and the surrounding insects into fragments, with splattered blood and flesh even covering the ceiling.

The fighting in the trenches became increasingly primitive and brutal.

The corpses of the fallen and the Tyranids piled up, quickly forming nauseating dams of flesh, carapace, and broken metal. These "walls of corpses" severely hampered the advance of the Tyranids, completely blocking the narrow passages and making it impossible for them to move an inch.

The hive's will had clearly noticed the problem as well. Some of the larger warrior beetles began to use their massive, scythe-like claws to tear apart and crush the corpses blocking their path, attempting to clear a way forward.

But often, just as they've partially destroyed the gaps, new martyrs roar and charge forward, using their own bodies to re-block the breaches. Bayonets and claws from both sides can pierce and kill the enemy through the gaps in the corpses, but this only makes the passage more congested and the flesh-and-blood dam even stronger.

The battle has reached a strange equilibrium. It seems that although the fortress has been breached due to ammunition shortages, as long as the company commander survives, the endlessly resurrected suicide soldiers can hold back the massive numbers of Tyrannosaurus in this underground labyrinth. This tactic of using human lives to fill the battle line is even more efficient than the previous method of overwhelming with firepower, and it may prolong the war even further.

Just as he was about to catch his breath after shaving the head off a knife-like insect with an entrenching tool, someone slapped him hard on the shoulder.

He subconsciously turned his head, only to be met with the image of the guy who should have been leisurely browsing forums in the command room.

"Company commander?! What are you doing out here?" the name exclaimed in astonishment.

The company commander simply pointed behind the name: "Then look behind you."

The man turned sharply, his pupils contracting. Deeper into the tunnel behind them, a colossal creature was charging towards them. It had a serpentine body covered in thick carapace, and its massive head was covered in sharp teeth—it was Tyrande's burrowing unit, the Burrowing Serpent! Clearly, the floor of the core command room where the company commander was located had been burrowed through by it.

"Do you have any heavy firepower left?" the company commander asked rapidly.

“I used it all up a long time ago,” Name wiped the blood from Tyrone’s face mask lens, “but after fighting for so long, I’ve accumulated quite a few merits.”

"Forget about the merits, you can keep them for yourselves." The company commander took a deep breath. "It seems the time has come for me to take action..."

"What?"

This line, so eerily familiar, stunned all the men on their way to their deaths. Could their company commander, who seemed to be slacking off all day while drinking sugary drinks, actually be a hidden master?
The company commander roared, and his body flew up defying gravity! Immediately afterward, raging flames erupted from his body, instantly turning him into a human torch! He roared in pain as he raised his hands, and two scorching flames shot out from his palms like giant dragons, instantly engulfing the passages in both directions.

Neither the swarm of Bladebugs in front nor the swarms of Digging Serpents behind could withstand the relentless flames. The Tyranids, who were about to converge and crush the players into mincemeat, were instantly reduced to flying ashes.

"Holy crap?" The people who were about to die were stunned. "Why didn't you use this trick sooner?"

"Because this is psionic energy!" The company commander howled in agony amidst the flames, his voice completely distorted. "If I use it, I'll... explode!"

The moment he finished speaking, the psionic flames on his body completely spiraled out of control. Like a burst dam, the flames erupted from him, indiscriminately filling every inch of the fortress. Whether they were players on their deathbeds or Tyranids, all were incinerated in this all-purifying fire, without even a chance to utter a scream.

On the site of the fortress, a warp rift, twisting and radiating an ominous aura, remains.

A figure eagerly squeezed out of the crack; it was hideous and exuded pure malice.

"Hahahaha!" The demon let out a piercing laugh. "That foolish mortal finally swallowed the poisoned candy I gave him! Mortals, suffer, wail, tremble! I will destroy every soul on this planet..."

Its declaration of victory came to an abrupt end halfway through.

The demon, who had just appeared, was stunned. Before it lay neither the delicious, terrifying souls it had imagined, nor the weak, helpless mortals awaiting slaughter.

Instead, there were tens of thousands upon tens of thousands of Tyranid swarms, enraged by the instantaneous destruction of the massive amount of biomass within the fortress. Their crimson compound eyes stared unanimously at the uninvited guest, as if they were looking at a piece of fresh meat that had suddenly appeared.

"...What are you?" the demon asked instinctively.

The response was a deafening shriek. The swarm of insects charged forward.

"Inferior creatures, I will now grant you destruction... Hmm?" The demon attempted to mobilize the power of the warp, only to discover to horror, "Why is my connection to the High Heavens so weak?! What... what are these shadows?!"

Before it could even comprehend the terror of the Warp's shadow, countless claws and scythes had already pierced its spirit body. Finally, a Tyrande warrior bit off its head, and the ambitious demon screamed as it rolled back into the Warp.

Its only achievement was that, before being submerged, it instinctively smashed the head of a knife-like insect charging at the front with a single punch.

Actually, it should probably be happy. Although this achievement was inferior to that of an ordinary Krieg soldier with an entrenching tool, at least it had come to the real universe and breathed in some fresh, spore-scented air. If Tyrannosaurus hadn't deliberately weakened the local darkness to create a diversionary siege, it wouldn't have even been able to peek out from the warp rift.

(End of this chapter)