Warhammer: Empire Reboot

After completing the second round of demolition, the Space Marines boarded the evacuation transport.

But the Knight Mech didn't stop.

A family knight stepped over the blasted-out orc factory, his gaze locking onto another group of green-skinned turrets deeper inside.

There are still a large number of orcs gathering there.

The cornerstone sequence immediately repeats the command.

"The Knights squadron is withdrawing as planned."

“Going deeper into the garbage city cluster will lead to fragmentation.”

The response came from a noble knight.

"We will not turn our backs on the fleeing beasts."

The other Freeblade charged straight in.

"Withdraw what? The orcs' factory is still smoking!"

"Our ancestors are watching!"

"Let them know who is worthy to set foot on this land!"

Subsequently, more Cavaliers followed suit.

Glory, fury, battlefield victory, the apparent rout of the Greenskins, and the strong motivation to protect the Mortwald territory led them to make a choice common among Imperial Knights.

Keep pushing forward.

The cornerstone sequence immediately reported the risk to the wartime command.

When Lawson saw the message, he sneered.

"Knights are indeed not suited to seeing the enemy's back."

He did not order a mandatory recall.

Given the current distance and battle situation, issuing a forced command would only cause communication chaos within the knight formation.

The more pressing issue is that the Cavaliers have already charged in.

We must either save them or...

Either wait until they're wrapped up like dumplings in green paper.

Lawson chose to save her.

To prevent the Knights from being surrounded, the Space Marines had to continue providing support.

The transport plane lowered its altitude again, and the assault team dropped the waste into the inner layer of the garbage city.

At the same time, a motorcycle assault team rapidly entered the battlefield.

A white scar is visible in front.

The dark angel is on the flank.

Khan Olugin, with his white scars, is a typical example of someone with white scars.

He led the White Scar motorcycle team from the edge of the sandstorm into Tanka Oil City, their engines roaring almost more arrogantly than the Greenskins.

The chain blade cleaved the orc rider in two.

Explosive guns swept across the combat truck.

The green-skinned racers got excited as soon as they saw the white scarred figure charging towards them.

"Speeding! Speeding!"

A group of red-painted orc motorcycles rushed out from the side, attempting to collide with White Scar.

Olugin simply raised his hand.

The White Scar motorcycle team split up instantly, like an open pair of pliers, slicing through the orc convoy from both sides.

The bomb was fired at point-blank range.

The chain cutter sliced ​​through the front of the car.

A green motorcycle behind them lost control and rolled over, crashing into the three companion motorcycles and turning them into fireballs.

Olukin walked past the explosion and chuckled.

"slow."

The Dark Angels were quieter.

Their motorcycle squad maintained formation, their black and green armor appearing heavy in the sandstorm. The lead rider didn't say anything superfluous on the channel, simply proceeding along the route given by joint command.

At first, everything went smoothly.

The white scars were responsible for rapidly slicing through the orc mobile forces.

The Dark Angel was tasked with sealing off a gap on the flank.

The Space Marine assault troops dropped by the transport planes began to pick up the Knights mechs that were trapped deep inside.

But just as the operation reached a critical juncture, the Dark Angel suddenly changed course.

Their motorcycle team broke away from the flank support line.

The reason for the white scar was not explained.

No change was requested from the Wartime Control Court.

They ignored the joint command's inquiries.

As if receiving another order that only they could hear, the entire Dark Angels force headed straight into the depths of the wilderness.

The target is the sandstorm vortex.

The sandstorm vortexes on the planet Vigilant are one of the most terrifying natural disasters on the planet.

That massive sandstorm has existed since the first human colonization of the Vigilant Planet.

It hangs like a perpetually spinning scar in the distant wilderness of Motwald.

It is larger than many small nesting areas.

The high-speed gravel on the outer edge of the storm can penetrate light vehicles and tear unprotected infantry into a bloody mist. The turbulent currents inside the storm can lift tanks and giant transport vehicles, and even cause low-flying aircraft to lose control.

Whether it's the Empire, the Orks, or the Genestealers, they will all avoid that area.

Orcs are an exception.

Some of the greens found it fun to rush into the storm.

They usually only have parts left.

Now, the Dark Angel charged in without hesitation.

There was a brief silence in the White Scars channel.

Then Olukin's voice rang out.

"Dark Angel, return to the support line."

No one responded.

"Dark Angels, your flanks are empty."

Still no one responded.

Olukin cursed, "Let the eagles peck out their goggles! Dark Angels, get back to your positions!"

The next second, the green-skinned man seized the opportunity.

The white scar, which had been sealed off on one side by the dark angels, now had its flank suddenly opened, and a large number of orc war chariots rushed down the slope of the garbage city.

Red-painted combat trucks, bone saws, and rocket motorcycles charged in droves toward the White Scar motorcycle team.

Olujin immediately changed formation, attempting to weave through the orc caravan.

But there are too many green ones.

The knight mech, trapped deep inside, is also calling for help.

White Scar had to both support the Cavaliers and withstand the counterattacks from the flanks, putting him under increasing pressure.

A beastman bone saw came hurtling towards them, its massive saw wheel grazing the tail of Olujin's motorcycle.

Olugin turned around and shot the cockpit, blowing it up.

"Those cloaked, mysterious bastards from the Dark Angels better be up to something big."

He gritted his teeth and led his team to continue their advance.

Just as the white scar was about to be buried by the orcish horde, a deep engine sound came from the sky.

The Flying Bear heavy anti-gravity assault motorcycle formation pressed down from the edge of the sandstorm.

"Make way for the white scars!"

The Flying Bears dive.

An orc war wagon was smashed head-on by an adamantite ram.

The cockpit, the front of the vehicle, the engine, and a human skull hanging in front of the vehicle all flew into the sky together.

Another Flying Bear flank heavy cannon opened fire, its depleted uranium ammunition belt sweeping through the orc swarm like harvesting metal grass.

A flying bear skimmed across the ground, smashing into two bone saws.

The driver yelled into the communicator, "What good is red paint! Your vehicle is too light!"

Many people fell silent as they watched this scene unfold.

They are legends of the Imperial Motorcycle Wars.

Speed, wind, grassland, Khan, scimitar-like assault route.

But these five-meter-tall giants riding sixty-ton flying motorcycles charged into the battlefield, smashing the green convoy into scrap metal. In some ways, they were more like battlefield knights than White Scar.

Olujin watched as a flying bear swept overhead, its heavy cannons turning the orcs on his flanks into flames.

"The throne is above."