I summoned the Fourth Scourge in Warhammer

Chapter 225 Both the Deathbringer and Tyron won!
Sergeant Reinhard took a deep breath, his helmet, incorporating a host of advanced technologies, filtering the toxic fumes, while one hand rested discreetly on the combat dagger at his waist.

He watched the eleven men rush towards the swarm of insects like fanatical cultists, his mind already prepared for the worst. In his centuries of fighting, he had seen far too many such reckless mortal armies. Their courage was admirable, but their end was invariably the same—torn to shreds by the enemy.

He was prepared. After these martyrs were wiped out within minutes, he would hold this position alone until his chapter brothers arrived to reinforce him, or he would die here. For a Space Marine of the Imperial Scythe, there was little difference between the two outcomes.

However, to his surprise, the sounds of battle lasted for a full half hour.

The explosions of laser guns, the roars of chainswords, and the piercing screams of the Zerg intertwined into a chaotic symphony of war. During this time, not a single Zerg charged towards his position. The sounds gradually subsided after half an hour, fading into silence.

Reinhard stared ahead in disbelief. The eleven men who had charged out to their deaths were now all returning from the thick fog, laughing and joking, as if they had just gone on a lighthearted armed outing.

Bug still carried the massive head of a Tyrande warrior, its four crimson compound eyes still gleaming with the ferocity of death. They even seized the opportunity to kill the leader of this small Tyrande assault force!
“Sir, mission accomplished. Please inspect it quickly.” BUG casually tossed the heavy head to Reinhard’s feet with a thud. “If you want to take it back for your collection, you’d better hurry. Ever since those grasses and flowers in Tyranny grew up there, any organic matter left on the spot will be digested in less than half an hour.”

Reinhard bent down and touched it with his massive ceramic armor boots. The warrior insect's head rolled, the cut clean, brain matter and bodily fluids still seeping out. This wasn't a fake; it couldn't be more real.

This suicide squad... annihilated the enemy without suffering any casualties!
This is impossible. His tactical instincts and biological knowledge were screaming. A mortal squad, charging head-on into an army led by Tyrannical warriors, and winning without a scratch? This defies the laws of physics and the logic of war.

In fact, in order to take down this wave of Tyrannosaurus Rex, apart from the BUG who was under special protection, the rest of the team died several times, totaling dozens of deaths. The ones who went to their deaths did gain a lot of merit, but it's hard to say that Tyrannosaurus Rex lost out in terms of biomass.

Even if Reinhard were right next to him, his perception would be distorted by some unseen force. He could recognize that "dozens of men in this squad had just died," and he could also recognize that "eleven men remain in this squad," but his superhuman brain couldn't connect the contradictory facts of "dozens of deaths" with "the number of men remaining unchanged," and he couldn't discover the problem. His thinking automatically bypassed this logical black hole.

"Sir?" BUG saw Reinhard bowing his head and remaining silent, and took a step closer with some confusion.

Just then, a deadly flash of cold light appeared!

Reinhard moved with lightning speed, his combat dagger instantly unsheathed and thrust straight at BUG's heart!
BUG reacted faster than his brain. Without even thinking, his body's instincts drove him to hold the laser gun horizontally in front of his chest.

"clang!"

With a crisp sound, the adamantite dagger easily sliced ​​the laser gun in two. But that split-second parry saved his life. "Whoosh!"

The other soldiers around him reacted in a fraction of a second, immediately raising their guns, ten dark muzzles pointing directly at Reinhard. The atmosphere in the trench instantly plummeted to freezing.

Bug first looked down at his laser gun, which had broken in two, then at Reinhard, who was slowly sheathing his dagger, his face full of helplessness: "Sir, what do you mean by this?"

“Let’s see if you’re even human,” Reinhard said, sheathing his dagger as he spoke, his voice still steady. “Now it seems that each of you is a seasoned veteran. At least, the courage to point a gun at an Astartes in the first place is something not everyone has.”

Since he didn't see the white border indicating hostility, BUG knew that Reinhard hadn't truly intended to kill from the beginning. He waved his hand, signaling his team to put down their guns: "Alright, alright, it was all a misunderstanding. So, sir, did we complete our mission or not?"

“You seem to value the so-called ‘mission accomplished’ very much,” Reinhard’s gaze swept over the soldiers, their emotions shifting with astonishing speed. “You eliminated the invading Tyran, so of course you accomplished your mission.”

The moment the words left his mouth, all the men facing death beamed with joy, as if they themselves hadn't been the ones who had just pointed guns at the Space Marines. They completely forgot about the brief standoff, cheering as they jumped back into the trenches to discuss how to distribute the Ant-Cow canned food for the night.

Reinhard stood still, silently watching the group of strangely behaving soldiers, then opened his data panel and began recording what he had just seen and learned.

The emotions of the rank-and-file soldiers facing death are extremely volatile; they seem unable to suppress their emotions. One moment they are in a state of high alert, the next they are cheering for the completion of their mission. Perhaps this is related to their unique culture of worshipping death, because death is always at hand, so they don't suppress their emotions? But how do they channel this mindset into a life-or-death battle with the enemy, rather than into self-destruction?

Don't try to devise overly detailed tactical plans for those going to their deaths. They won't understand, or rather, they won't want to understand. Their fighting style is quite direct, but the results are surprisingly effective. Perhaps you should consider fully utilizing their initiative, simply informing them of the specific mission objectives, and then letting them figure out how to accomplish them on their own.

[Their individual combat capabilities are extremely high, far surpassing ordinary Astral Army soldiers. At least in my squad, every member has demonstrated top-tier veteran qualities, both in reaction speed and fighting spirit. Perhaps I just happened to be assigned to a squad full of elite veterans?]

They seemed eager for the mission to be nominally completed, even though the threat had been effectively resolved, they still wanted me to say that the mission was accomplished.

Reinhard stared at the data panel in his hand, then closed it after a long while and put it back. One case was not enough; he needed more examples.

(End of this chapter)