Warhammer: Empire Reboot

Then Quintus gave him his first surprise.

When the tide of travelers advanced to within three kilometers of the position, the heavy artillery opened fire.

The rate of fire of the quadruple heavy explosive cannon is 1,200 rounds per minute.

A total of eighteen heavy firepower support points were deployed on the ridgeline, each equipped with two quadruple guns.

Thirty-six cannons fired simultaneously, raining down heavy explosive shells on the pilgrims every minute.

The bombs exploded among the travelers, each one tearing apart three to five rotting bodies.

The lethal radius of shrapnel and shock waves is magnified many times over in densely populated areas.

But this is not what surprised Fectus.

He anticipated the heavy firepower interception.

To his surprise, five hours had passed and the enemy's firepower had not decreased at all.

Six hours, seven hours.

The first wave of 120,000 travelers was reduced to pieces, covering the frozen plain two kilometers in front of the position.

The second wave of 150,000 travelers was pushed up and continued to be plowed up by heavy bombs.

Meanwhile, the three demon engines attempted to flank from the left, but all of them fell into the anti-armor trench. The metal camouflage panels shattered under the weight of 400 tons, and the forelimbs of the demon engines became deeply embedded in the mummified corpse filling layer and could not move.

The suicide soldiers in the trenches aimed their plasma cannons at the exposed underside of the engine and fired three shots. The high temperature of the plasma burned through the engine's underside armor and ignited the internal ammunition storage.

Three black and red explosions rose on the left wing, and debris flew more than two hundred meters high.

Pectus squinted his corrupted, rusted eyes.

Not right.

The defending force opposite him seemed to have an endless supply of ammunition.

In his past war experience, no Imperial garrison had ever been able to maintain high-intensity firepower for more than six hours when its supply lines were cut off.

Ammunition weight is astronomical, and the logistics supply chain is the most vulnerable link in war—this is an ironclad rule.

But on the opposite position, there was no sign of any supply convoys behind them, yet ammunition seemed to be pouring in from underground.

Moreover, he noticed a detail: the defending soldiers were changing ammunition in the trenches at an absurdly fast speed.

An extremely rare sense of unease rose from the base of Pectus's rusted spine.

"Continue to move forward."

He gave the order in a deep voice: "All demon engines, concentrate fire on their right flank junction. Third battle group, advance from the front."

Quintus wiped the dust off his helmet visor and turned the magnification of his enhanced eyepiece to the maximum.

On the southern plains, hordes of gray-green corpses continue to surge in.

The second wave had already killed or wounded more than half of the enemy in the plowing ground of the heavy bombs, but the third wave followed.

The Plague Walker trudged forward, stepping over the corpses of its companions, its rotting feet sinking into the crumbs and bone fragments with a squelching sound.

Behind the horde of travelers, Pectus finally unleashed his true killer: the Third Battle Group.

Forty-seven Deathguard Plague Space Marines, all wearing Mark III power armor.

Quintus' pupils contracted slightly.

The MK III was nicknamed the "bunker type" during the Great Expedition. Its frontal armor was nearly 40 percent thicker than the standard Mark 7, and additional armor plates were welded onto its breastplate and shoulder armor. It was designed to withstand frontal fire and engage in close-quarters combat in corridors and trenches.

It makes perfect sense for Death Guard to use this kind of armor.

Forty-seven Death Guards lined up in three columns and walked at a pace through the crowd of travelers.

The plague walkers automatically parted to make way, like a river flowing around a reef.

The heavy bomb hit them, exploding into a fireball. After the smoke cleared, a shallow dent appeared on their armor.

The MK III is blessed with a high level of hardness, making its frontal hardness virtually unbeatable.

Quintus was preparing to adjust his firepower distribution when a voice came from behind him.

"Company Commander Quintus."

Lawson stood at the entrance to the command bunker.

"When did you get back?" Quintus asked.

"Just arrived."

Lawson glanced south.

The Plague Walker horde, the long-range suppression from the Demon Engine, and the forty-seven Death Guards advancing in columns.

"Where is the commander?"

Quintus used the marking function on his eyepiece to circle a location on the holographic projection: a command platform above an exceptionally large Plague Crawler Demon Engine.

"Fectus. The Death Guard company commander, he's cunning. He's been using poison gas to wear us down for the past three days, and only today did he push his main force up."

Lawson stared at the mark for two seconds.

"You continue to hold this line. I'll go and cut his head off."

Quintus opened his mouth, as if to say something, such as a reminder that "Death Guard is not some second-rate wretch like Gul'ga," but Lawson had already turned and left.

He fastened the helmet of the Tiger King Armor, the living metal flowing and sealing at the collar.

Silver wings spread out behind them.

Lawson's figure shot out from above the bunker like a silver cannonball hurtling towards the southern sky.

Pectus saw him.

The moment that silver figure appeared on the northern horizon, a cold smile appeared on Fectus's rusty face.

"Raise your shield."

Chapter 140 Annihilating the main force and acquiring sixty sets of power armor.

The seven Terminator-class Death Guards surrounding Pfxtuas simultaneously raised their left arms.

Their left arms are equipped with a specially designed corrosion barrier by the Death Guard.

The shield's surface is composed of a composite of rusted refined gold and an organic, blessed membrane, covered with a constantly writhing, dark green gelatinous substance, "Father's Fat."

The physical properties of this gelatinous substance are extremely disgusting. When any high-speed object hits the shield, the gelatinous layer will instantly wrap around the intruding object, drastically increasing its surface friction and absorbing all its kinetic energy within a fraction of a second.

Heavy explosive shells will stick to the target and then slowly corrode and decompose it; chain swords will stick to the target and then the serrations will be corroded and broken one by one.

Pectus prepared this specifically to counter decapitation tactics.

The seven corrosive barriers formed a tight tortoise shell formation, completely enveloping Pectus and the key personnel on the command platform.

In addition, standing on the outermost circle of the tortoise shell formation were twelve plague wizards.

They chanted incantations, and a dark green spiritual energy field formed a semi-transparent barrier on the outer layer of the giant shield. It couldn't stop the macro cannon, but it was enough to reduce the kinetic energy by 20% to 30% before the flying disc made contact with the shield.

Lawson's figure stopped in the air ten kilometers away.

Eighty-one shadow wheels unfolded in a fan shape behind Lawson and then shot out at supersonic speed.

The Shadow Wheels, in waves of twenty-seven, attacked Pectus's command platform from different angles in three waves.

When we were 200 meters away from the command platform, the surrounding spiritual energy field lit up.

The moment the dark green, semi-transparent barrier came into contact with the Shadow Wheel, the Shadow Wheel's rotation speed was indeed reduced by about 25%.

The shadow wheel passed through the force field and crashed into the corrosive barrier.

The moment the Shadow Wheel spun and cut into the shield, the dark green "Father's Fat" surged up like a living thing, enveloping the edge of the Shadow Wheel.

The high-speed rotating blade slows down drastically in the gelatinous layer. The viscous organic matter seems to have infinite elasticity and friction, absorbing a large amount of kinetic energy with each rotation.

The twenty-seven shadow wheels became stuck on the shield surface.

Twelve successfully pierced the gelatinous layer, but their penetrating power was insufficient to cut through the underlying adamantine shield, leaving only shallow scratches on the shield surface.

The remaining fifteen were completely stuck, like flies stuck in a spider web.

Fectus's sneer deepened.

He peered through the gaps in the shield wall at the silver figure in the sky ten kilometers away.

"You think I'm that stupid pig Gulgar?"

"How could I not prepare when I saw him being chopped into pieces?"

He raised his right hand.

"All demon engines, focus the Plague Lava Cannons and blast him!"

The cannons of the six demon engines simultaneously turned to the sky, and dark green lava projectiles shot in parabolic arcs toward Lawson's hovering position.

Each molten lava bomb creates a corrosive molten pool with a diameter of 30 meters upon impact.

As Lawson watched his Shadow Wheel stick to the shield, a slight smile appeared on his lips.

The swarm intelligence has already thoroughly analyzed the physical parameters of that gel-like substance: viscosity, elastic coefficient, friction coefficient, and thermal decomposition temperature.

A full-power psionic pulse was injected into the trapped twenty-four shadow wheels.

The rotational speed of the shadow wheel suddenly increased to its limit, and the centrifugal force and frictional heat generated by the rotational speed caused the temperature of the gel layer to rise sharply.

The "Father's Fat" began to decompose and vaporize under the high temperature, and one after another, the Shadow Wheels were ejected from the shield surface, whistling as they flew back to Lawson's side.

All recycled.

The Plague Lava Bomb exploded where Lawson had been hovering three seconds earlier, but Lawson had already moved two kilometers laterally.

The silver wings traced an arc of white congealed trail beneath the gray clouds.

"interesting."

Pectus is very clever.

He accurately calculated Shadow Wheel's weakness and also calculated that Lawson couldn't hover and slowly slice through under the cover of artillery fire.

But he overlooked one thing.