I summoned the Fourth Scourge in Warhammer

Chapter 60 The Chicken Thief Reacted

In the safe perimeter, Ruan Wenbo was methodically monitoring the progress of each squad via walkie-talkie. Overall, everything was going smoothly. The cunning players seemed to enjoy a war of attrition with the players, and clearly, the players were equally enthusiastic. Every kill added to their merits. The battle line was advancing steadily, slowly but with exceptional determination.

If those cunning players want to swarm in and crush the players in one fell swoop, then the players will love it even more. They'll just throw high-explosive bombs around their waists; anyone who chickens out is a coward. After all, respawning only takes a few seconds.

After Nguyen Van Bo confirmed the situation at the front once again, various complaints from the squad leaders could be heard over the walkie-talkie.

"Without a God's-eye view and zero-delay communication, being a commander is too difficult."

"I've gotten so bored that I've started counting ants on the ground."

"You know what, I'm actually curious to see what Warhammer's ants look like. Can you describe them?"

"The main problem is resurrection. It's okay in positional warfare, we can fight together on the position. But if we die in a breakthrough battle, we have to run back to the map. We really don't dare to fight like that."

"Speaking of which, where's Chief Eagle? Why haven't we heard him say anything?"

"He's the noble Oglin, killing ordinary chicken thieves is like killing chickens for him, unlike us fragile mortals who would die instantly if touched twice."

They even started trying to play chess out of thin air during their casual conversation. However, amidst this seemingly relaxed atmosphere, a series of explosions suddenly broke the silence, growing increasingly frequent. Everyone was already familiar with this sound; clearly, the players were self-destructing again. This also meant that the cunning players were beginning a large-scale assault.

At first, Ruan Wenbo thought this was just another player self-destruction, after all, this kind of "tactic" was commonplace. But soon, his brows furrowed tightly. The explosions became unusually frequent, no longer sporadic, scattered rumbles, but a continuous, resounding roar, as if the entire processing area was trembling.

“This isn’t right…” Nguyen Van Bo muttered to himself. With his extensive experience, he immediately realized that this wasn’t the work of an ordinary cunning strategist. A single cunning commander couldn’t possibly order an attack simultaneously on all fronts.

Even pure-blooded individuals cannot do this; only higher-level sectarian wizards have the ability to issue such unified and resolute orders to a large number of clansmen scattered in various places in such a short period of time.

Just as he was pondering this, the voices of the players after their resurrection came through the walkie-talkie, their tone filled with obvious confusion and a hint of bewilderment.

"Report! My place is a complete mess, but the thieves have all run away!"

"Me too, there are only some remains, and we can't see any living ones."

"Company commander, we've been revived, but the surroundings are empty, there's not even a breath of air around us."

Ruan Wenbo quickly pieced together this scattered information, confirming his judgment. This was no accident. The explosions were too frequent, like continuous thunder; this was clearly not the work of a few cunning commanders, but a direct order from higher command! Their purpose was to temporarily force the players back; they were retreating!
"Attention everyone!" Ruan Wenbo's voice came through the walkie-talkie, "The cunning thieves are making a massive retreat! This isn't a regular rout, it's an organized evacuation!"

He paused, then said decisively, "All squads, one squad goes ahead to scout, the other stays behind! Speed ​​is of the essence! Confirm the enemy's movements! They won't retreat without a reason!"

"Yes! The players in Class 7 are the fastest. They didn't self-destruct; they relied solely on their superb swordsmanship and a bit of their class monitor Oglin's strength to kill all the cunning thieves who rushed up to intercept them, and immediately began to pursue them after receiving orders."

Then, they bumped right into Kyle, the cult wizard, who was walking slowly towards them.

The Seventh Squad abruptly stopped, watching them warily. Kyle also halted, his gaze sweeping over the strange group of mortals, a hint of doubt flickering in his eyes—mainly regarding the Oglin. According to his understanding, the Oglin should have immediately charged forward, howling and attacking. The words "warning" and "defense" were beyond the Oglins' comprehension.

But it doesn't matter anymore. This strange Astral Army has given it enough questions, and now it will personally kill these damned mortals.

"I never imagined that you mortals could inflict such heavy casualties on my people," Kyle said grimly, his voice filled with suppressed rage. He had originally intended to hold his ground and await reinforcements, but the rate at which his men were dying far exceeded his expectations. In just one hour, thousands of his people had returned to the embrace of the Void Lords. At this rate, by the time reinforcements arrived in three days, every one of his men would owe these Astral Army soldiers more than three lives!
“However, it all ends here.” Kyle raised his hand, purple psionic energy beginning to gather and swirl around his pale palm. “You will kill each other in terror…”

Kyle's right hand was wreathed in dense purple psionic energy, attempting to bind the players' souls, driving them mad and causing them to collapse in a cycle of self-destruction. This was one of its most potent attack methods, used to plunge countless enemies into despair and infighting. However, just as it was about to unleash its psionic energy, its hand suddenly froze.

As it attempted to spread its psychic power, it was astonished to discover that, from a subspace perspective, the place where souls should have been was empty, but from a real-world perspective, it could see these mortals standing right in front of it.

This intense conflict between the subspace perspective and the real-world perspective stimulated Kyle's brain. In an instant, two completely opposite yet real situations began to attack each other on the battlefield of his body and soul.

"Where is the soul? Where is the soul?!" Kyle, who had tried to drive the dying to madness, himself went mad instead. He was like a physicist who had suddenly discovered that the rules of the universe were not uniform, or a mortal who had seen a ghost in broad daylight. "How is this possible? How is this possible?!"

The actual universe the players inhabit doesn't even have a warp, and they aren't even there in their true forms—they're merely a piece of information fabricated by Bit. How could the players possibly possess a soul from the Warhammer universe, allowing Kyle's psionic powers to twist and control them?

The players of Class 7 were completely dumbfounded when they saw Kyle suddenly go berserk. They had been on high alert, but they were now completely stunned.

"What's wrong with this BOSS?"

"It is said that the psychic energy of psionicists is very unstable. The more powerful the psionicist, the less control they have over themselves. The psychic energy will suppress the brain for a long time, leading to a weakened sense of self. Perhaps it just accidentally blew up its brain nerves due to a mistake."

"You mean, this idiot got stressed?"

"Uh, probably? After all, I've only seen the official settings from GW, I'm not a real phantom user."

"That kind of situation is for wild psionicists, right? Even cunning psionicists would have this kind of problem? It can't be that bad, can it?"

"In short, get the Assassins here quickly, this is a perfect opportunity to spew sulfurous fire!"

(End of this chapter)