I summoned the Fourth Scourge in Warhammer

Chapter 210 The trapped beast still fights
The dizziness from the violent explosion was rapidly subsiding, and the Norn messenger regained its footing. The Hive Will, through its senses, calmly assessed the situation before it.

In the sky, another Thunderhawk gunboat, trailing black smoke, roared in with a resolute air.

This time, the Norn messenger was on guard. It let out an angry screech, and one of its forelimbs, like a giant scythe, lashed out with a sonic boom that tore through the air, striking the hull of the diving Thunderhawk gunship with pinpoint accuracy.

"boom!"

The Thunderhawk gunboat disintegrated and exploded in mid-air, turning into a dazzling fireball that tumbled and plummeted into the distance.

The Norn messenger looked up at the few remaining Thunderhawk gunships still circling in the sky. It had no doubt that if it showed any sign of escape, those crazed human pilots would not hesitate to charge at it in their steel vehicles.

The escape route was blocked by the sky.

On the ground, the assault team composed of giants and red iron men was getting closer and closer, their deafening battle cries even drowning out the roar of the explosions.

There is no way to retreat.

The Hive's will instantly made a new decision. Since escape was impossible, it would perish together with these enemies before it!

The Norn messenger abandoned its escape and abruptly turned around. With a piercing shriek, its massive body charged back towards the assault team!
A cornered beast will fight even harder, and its ferocity will only grow!
However, seeing the behemoth return and charge towards them, Astartes and the Eugens showed not a trace of fear on their faces, but rather a surge of fervent excitement.

"It's back!" Sicarius's voice was full of approval. "That's more like it! Come, alien! Accept your glory!"

"Oh oh oh oh!!!" The Oglins responded even more directly, raising their giant clubs and tower shields even higher and increasing their running speed.

The two forces collided head-on like two raging torrents on the plains of Prandim!
With their numerical superiority and fearless courage, the Oglins surrounded the Norn messenger from all sides. They wielded heavy iron clubs, pounding them mercilessly into the Norn messenger's legs, torso, and anything else within reach. Each successful strike produced a dull thud and a dazzling burst of sparks against the behemoth's hard carapace.

However, the Norn messenger's counterattack was far more deadly. Each swing of its razor-sharp limbs easily sliced ​​an Oglin in two, along with his tower shield. With a single, powerful slam of its massive body, several Oglins were sent flying, their bones shattered. It opened its gaping maw and swallowed the upper half of an Oglin whole, the sound of its chewing sending chills down one's spine.

But the Oglins fought fearlessly; as soon as one fell, another would take its place. With their own flesh and blood, they formed a dam that was constantly being torn apart and reassembled, holding the Norn messengers firmly in place.

The Astartes were equally eager to step forward and engage the Hive Tyrant in a fierce close-quarters battle. However, whether intentionally or unintentionally, the overly enthusiastic and focused Oglins surrounded the Norn messengers so tightly that their "leaders" were pushed to the periphery.

The Space Marines brandished their weapons, only to find themselves unable to get close to their target. Every time they tried to squeeze in, an excited Oglin would inadvertently block them with his massive body.

"Damn it, get out of the way! Let me get a hit too!" a Starclaw warrior roared, but was ignored by Oglin.

Left with no other option, the Astartes had to abandon their plans for close combat and retreat, resorting to a variety of ranged weapons for support.

It was because of the Oglins' relentless obstruction, disregarding casualties, that the Norn messenger could no longer maintain its ghostly speed, becoming a giant sitting duck. A Space Marine wielding a molten lava gun seized the opportunity, a blazing energy beam continuously scorching the Norn messenger's side, the intense heat quickly melting through its armor, causing a massive penetrating wound.

Of course, not all Astartes were outmatched by the Oglins. Huron, with his strength surpassing that of ordinary Oglins, forcefully squeezed his way to the front among the giants. He saw the wound, still smoldering from the molten steel.

Huron roared, pressed the Explosive Storm gauntlet in his right hand against the charred wound, and pulled the trigger!

"Bang bang bang bang!"

The close-range bomb exploded inside the Norn Messenger's body, splattering blood and flesh, and gushing bodily fluids. The Norn Messenger let out a piercing scream of extreme pain. It lowered its head, and its massive jaws snapped shut, clamping down on Huron's entire upper body!

Huron had been waiting for this opportunity!

In the instant he was bitten, he raised his restrained left hand and seized the opportunity to plunge it into the Norn messenger's mouth. Even with the protection of his Terminator power armor, the razor-sharp teeth pierced through the terracotta armor and embedded themselves deeply in his arm. Intense pain shot through his body like an electric shock, but this only excited Huron more!
With a roar, Huron's left-hand power claw suddenly opened, and five sharp claws sank deep into the Norn messenger's vulnerable upper jaw!

“Ahhhhh——!”

Suffering severe damage from inside its mouth, the Norn emissary instinctively wanted to bite its enemy to death. It slammed its jaws shut, and Huron felt a sharp, almost ruptured pain in his lower back, his power armor groaning under the strain.

Seeing the behemoth's agonizing state only strengthened Huron's resolve. Instead of backing down, he intensified his attack, using his right-hand Storm Gauntlet to fire even more fiercely into the Norn's body, while his left-hand power claw, disregarding the lacerations to his arm, relentlessly probed deeper into the Norn's brain!

"Chaptermaster!" Seeing their beloved Chaptermaster in such a perilous situation, the Starclaw Space Marines around them were naturally extremely anxious. They frantically poured their firepower onto the Norn Emissary's head, but most of their attacks were deflected by the hard carapace, and the few effective attacks risked accidentally injuring Huron, who was being bitten.

The struggle between Huron and the Norn messenger had reached a deadly stalemate. Every second, his life was being relentlessly drained by the behemoth's jaws, while his power claws were chiseling deeper and deeper into the alien. It was a contest of will and flesh, with victory or defeat hanging by a thread.

At this critical moment, Cato Sicarius made a surprising decision.

From the very beginning, seeing that impenetrable wall of flesh and blood made up of Oglins, he knew that trying to squeeze through it head-on was a pipe dream. So he decisively broke away from the battle, his power armor engine roaring, and he shot like a blue arrow towards the ruins of a war-torn fortress not far away.

His agile figure leaped swiftly among the broken walls and ruins, and in just a few breaths he had reached a precarious high point.

Without the slightest hesitation, Sicarius leaped into the air!
With his exceptional skill and daring, he drew an elegant yet deadly arc in the air, landing precisely on the head of the Norn messenger who was frantically swinging and trying to break free from Huron!
"For Macurag!"

With a roar, Sicarius plunged his power sword deep into the Norn messenger's skull. Then, using the force of the beast's swing, he slid down, his blade slicing through the Norn messenger's proliferating brain tissue responsible for processing psionic energy, along with the entire spine below, with the force of a scalpel!

The disintegrating force field emitted a "sizzling" sound, and a deep, bone-revealing wound stretched from the back of the Norling messenger's neck all the way to the end of his spine.

“——!!!!”

The Norn messenger let out a final, silent shriek. Its nervous system was utterly destroyed, and the remaining, massive amount of psionic energy instantly went out of control, collapsing inward, and then—exploded!
boom--! ! ! !

Psionic power surged from the Norn Messenger's spot. Its massive body was blasted into countless flying fragments of flesh and blood by this destructive force originating from within.

The first to be hit were the Oglins who had surrounded them. Even their heavy force-feedback armor couldn't withstand the close-range psionic storm. Dozens of Oglins were instantly reduced to charred remains, while many more were thrown back by the shockwave and crashed heavily to the ground, their fates unknown.

The Astartes on the periphery were not spared either; they were all blasted away by the violent shockwave, tumbling to the ground like puppets with broken strings, sparks flying from their power armor.

Huron and Sicarius, who were at the epicenter of the outbreak and in direct contact with the Norn messengers, suffered an even more horrific fate.

【Ding! 】

A crisp system notification sounded in the ears of the dying warriors: the merit points for defeating the BOSS had been credited to their accounts.

"Holy crap, awesome!" A surviving Oglin player got up from the ground, looked at the soaring numbers on his system interface, and shouted excitedly, "I only hit that bastard once, and I got thousands of merit points!"

Meanwhile, on the more distant front of ordinary soldiers, a soldier facing death looked at his meager merit points and stamped his feet in anger: "Damn it! I've been shooting this bastard, pulling the trigger of my laser gun until it's almost smoking, and I only have a few hundred merit points! I'm so angry and cold, when will our ordinary soldiers' flashlights ever be able to stand up again!"

Someone nearby immediately retorted, "You should be secretly happy about your achievements. Could your flashlight even cause a single cell of damage to a Norn messenger?"

Just as the players were cheering or complaining, immersed in the joy of victory and their gains, a loud roar jolted everyone awake: "Stop counting your merits, you son of a bitch! Save them! Huron and Sicarius can't die!"

This shout was like a blow to the head, instantly waking all the players up.

Yes! These two are legendary figures. If they die here, who knows what the consequences will be! We absolutely cannot let anything happen to them!
Fortunately, the Ultramarines and the Astartes of the Starclaws had already struggled to their feet. Ignoring their own injuries, they rushed to the center of the explosion and carefully helped Huron and Sicarius, who were mangled beyond recognition, to their feet.

"Stretcher! Get on the stretcher!"

Players who love a good spectacle immediately sprang into action. Several players didn't hesitate to use their merit points, which they wouldn't even use to buy ammunition, to exchange for two emergency medical stretchers in the system shop.

The Astartes, of course, had no idea what the players were thinking. In their eyes, these mortal allies, after the battle, thought nothing but rescuing their commander – what noble loyalty!

An Ultramarines apothecary gratefully accepted the stretcher handed to him by the player and solemnly said, "Thank you, warriors of the Emperor."

So a group of battle-hardened Space Marines immediately transformed into a stretcher team, carefully lifting the two heroes and, surrounded by many others ready to die, quickly walking towards the safe point behind them.

(End of this chapter)