Chapter 305 A Sharp Blade

The Emperor's Bane Blade landed. Even with the deceleration of the transport plane and the protection of the heavy containers, the entire ground sank in like soft butter. The inferior steel of the Orcs could not bear such a heavy weight of Imperial gold. It was more because the asteroid-sized place was kept at a normal weight by the strong gravity created by the Orcs' witchcraft equipment.

"Damn it, hurry up, tie the traction rope!" The lieutenant shouted, and the soldiers methodically locked the solid alloy ropes tightly to the chassis of the Bane Blade. The engines of the Chimera armored vehicle and the Hercules crawler transport vehicle were beating, and they exerted force like a drumbeat. But even so, for such a huge Imperial engine, the heavy body was as ridiculous as a child pulling a mill.

The powerful friction generator of the armored vehicle crawler was also idling and making a buzzing sound. Although the metal ground provided the vehicle with a very high upper speed limit, it also reduced a lot of friction. Therefore, the Orcs' vehicles preferred rapid jetting, which was more like flying than engine propulsion.

Those things have now become restrictions. The huge weight of the poison blade is collapsing bit by bit. Only the inertia imposed by the transport plane has caused the crude base without the reinforcement of the Imperial Guard to collapse completely. If it is mud, you can still climb out, but the broken metal is like dominoes, blocking this behemoth at an unbalanced angle.

"Get off the car, everyone, get off the car, and pull the tow rope!" "There are people on the poison blade tank, and there is no need for a crew, just the driver is enough!" The lieutenant cursed, and immediately got off the car to look at the metal braided rope made of alloy fiber, which is even a little sharp, he said. "Don't use force right away. The Chimera and the transport crawler should also maintain a level where they can still add force. Release the accelerator and maintain the force to stop the poison blade from falling. Then get off, all of you!"

Among the 30 people who were clamoring, only the driver was still in the car. They used various methods and many angles to add extra ropes, or directly wore military gloves and inserted sabers or daggers into the one-meter-thick traction rope to help exert force.

The second lieutenant shouted. "1, 2, 3!" Soldiers, vehicle crews, and everything that had active power in a small place were pulling the small and important hope with all their strength. The entire poison blade also began to rotate and exert force. The three imperial machine spirits sang together, and the vibration and roar made people feel the throbbing of the heart.

"Push harder! Push harder!" the lieutenant shouted, again and again, the members of the Imperial Guards gathered their power like tanks, the tracks of the poison blades cut off a lot of scrap metal like saw blades, the tracks of the tracked transporters and the Chimera armored vehicles scraped a black and burnt brown on the ground, and the behemoth slowly crawled out of the ground with the sound of the traction rope squeaking.

Then the soldiers lost their strength, and some even bent their sabers. They once suspected that the rope might collapse, but the thing took on the heavy responsibility like them.

"It's just a panting old dog, but it's still dangerous and scary. The sergeant may be able to take him down, but it won't be too easy. God, 6 airships, that is, 12 Space Marines, I don't know how many can survive." The lieutenant said painfully. If he hadn't done a good landing cushion, this matter would not have turned out like this.

When the poison blade's engine spit out the first puff of white mist, the lieutenant sat limply in the observation room, poking his head out of the thick armor of the tank and watching the battle of the Destroyer Eagle in the distance with a telescope. Only half of their airships were left, and this loss was far greater than expected. The orc leader seemed to be still not tired and enjoyed this farce, but his attack obviously became more like a wound. There were many more bullet marks on the car body, and even traces of hot melt. The speed of the car slowed down a little, and the black smoke was more.

But his psychic premonition helped him, he shouted. "Slow down!" In the end, his servant's indiscriminate trust saved him. The mortal servant pressed the brakes without hesitation, avoiding the shells that almost hit them completely at the last moment, but even such a high temperature caused a hurricane, and the entire Land Speeder was overturned. At the same time, a small explosion cloud was raised. This was a high-explosive bomb specially made by the Imperial Guard for the leader, and the temperature could even melt ceramic steel!

The lieutenant wiped the sweat from his face, panted, and said. "Get in the car, everyone, the communications team starts adjusting the equipment, report to the Destruction Eagle, it's ready, other crew members scheduled to board the Poison Blade follow me."

He said in a hoarse voice. "Good canned... good canned... really good at fighting, I like it, this shrimp is not bad either, he can drive, he drives well, I like it more, and I can kill one a day without losing, two is a profit, the evil moon orcs, I won't lose!"

The gunner asked faster and faster, the lieutenant became more and more impatient, his mind was complicated, he held the telescope, and there was still someone more impatient than him, that was the sergeant, he was not afraid of death, he just wanted to end the war, but the Poison Blade did not fire, he could vaguely see the dark nightmare, and the future of the orc leaving the area intact.

"What?" He immediately looked around and raised his weapon, but there was no enemy, only the annoying sound of footsteps and a hoarse voice. The leader walked out of the smoke, his left arm was completely blown off, and half of the right arm was rubbed off by the ground, leaving a wound with visible bones. The bloody thing clamped the neck of the mortal servant. There was no doubt that even so, he could easily strangle this man to death.

The structure of the Emperor's poison blade shell is similar to that of a bomb. That kind of projectile is very special and noble, and its value is comparable to any cutting-edge product made by the Empire. Although it looks ordinary, it is not as simple as an enlarged bomb. The primer is separated and the smoke is ejected. This shell has surpassed the projectile speed of most Imperial vehicles. It cuts through the sky with a sharpness comparable to that of a sniper rifle, and even the orc leader who is so fast cannot dodge it. At the same time, the sergeant is also.

His body looks fat and twisted. The sergeant is restraining him on his right side. Other airships have pulled the distance a lot farther, but in order to keep the orc leader moving forward, the sergeant must fight with him, and the lieutenant's telescope magnifies the orc's expression under the optical lens. He immediately understands that this orc has regarded the sergeant as a hostage.

There is no sweat on his forehead because his mouth is dry. He has escaped from death again and again, and most of the water in his body has dried up in danger again and again, but he still concentrates and looks into the distance.

No matter how tired you are, you have to cheer up and drag your almost immobile body to fire bullets at the enemy of the Empire. This is both the greatness and the tragedy of the Imperial Guard, because they are not serving the utopia of mankind, but a huge, corrupt, dying old man in this dark universe.

"They are approaching." The lieutenant shook his head and quickly broke away from those emotions. Alan Baier had been bearing the guilt brought by the sacrifice before, and now he also tasted it clearly. It felt like a Titan pressing on his heart. It was difficult to understand how those commanders could endure those emotions in this desperate forty thousand years. Perhaps this is why the sacrifices of thousands of men and women in the Empire can be simplified into simple numbers.

The shells of the Empire's poison blades were fired, and the lieutenant also broke free of some emotions, the vague, uncertain, and burdened emotions. He realized the will required as a commander. His thoughts became more stable, powerful, and... sharp. His eyes looked into the distance like a sharp sword.

The dark muzzle was locked on the illusory enemy. In the strong smell of propellant and engine fuel, the dark green Empire engine was crawling like a hunter. The air seemed to be frozen, and those things were getting closer and closer. The faint fluctuations of the airship of the Destroyer Eagle, the wild laughter of the orcs, the roar of the engine, and many complex and twisted things gathered together, but people were completely unaware. Only the lieutenant held a telescope and focused on the despair.

The poison blade engine started, and in that roar, this Empire blade rumbled forward on the ground. Compared with those extremely fast vehicles, it seemed stable and more deadly, larger and heavier, so that the ground trembled with her movements.

The lieutenant suddenly felt suffocating confusion. The gunner of the crew began to ask him when to fire, but the two words could not be said for a long time. In just a few seconds, the cannon's shooting angle coverage would be unable to aim at the orcs, and it would leave in vain.

"Those are honors, and you defeated an orc leader in the car, my friend." The sergeant said bluntly.

The mortal servant shook his head. "Friend?! What are you talking about? If those words are heard by others, I can't get on the ship, because I am tarnishing the Astartes!"

The Destruction Eagle was forcing the vicious dog to get closer. They locked the leader with a formation spread out in a straight line, threatened him with hot melt so that he could not go back, and slightly adjusted the flank to get close to the poison blade. The lieutenant spoke in a hoarse voice. "Forward, reach the expected shooting position, and start loading shells."

Those things were visualized in front of him, the remains of smoke, the dead soldiers, the wailing battlefield and the exhausting death. The lieutenant tried his best to get rid of those things, and accurately calculated the reasonable shooting range in his head with experience and telescope range-finding assistance.

The sergeant's words fluctuated a little, but he was still calm. "Let him go, alien."

It was not the Master Chief who was holding him back, but he was clinging to the Master Chief. This madman had already regarded the death of this Space Marine as the final destination. The disgusting, vicious, crazy beast was laughing wildly because of this. Shoot? But the Master Chief would die, and the easiest thing would be disability, and waiting would be more fatal, and all the previous efforts would be in vain...

When the Master Chief climbed out of the overturned car, his thick armor made him almost unscathed, while the unfortunate mortal was bleeding from his head. He was not unconscious, but just climbed out in a mess after the Master Chief lifted up a part of the metal that was twisted and deformed by pressure and explosion, and said. "My Lord, I have been wounded from head to toe since I began to serve you."

He picked up the grenade launcher. The boss who had just acted so arrogantly was no longer there. There were scattered parts and the ground was burning with smoke. The cracked body of the machine spilled fuel on the ground and burned slowly. The heat produced smoke, which blocked the vision. Even a superman like Astartes could hardly see the enemy clearly in such a messy situation. The complex sensor equipment and auspicious instrument on his helmet were dead silent.

He pushed aside the slowly rising smoke and the grenade was aimed at the stray dog ​​very quickly. He immediately knelt down in a standard suppression posture to press down on his neck and pointed the grenade at the position of his head. But when he actually landed, there was only the sound of ceramic steel hitting the metal ground. There was only a broken arm and a shocking two-meter-long scratch full of broken meat and bloodstains dragging on the ground.

"It's close..." He spoke like a prophet, which brought the uneasiness in the car to its highest level. With the rapid and orderly preparations of the crew members, the Imperial sword became ready to go. About thirty seconds later, under the noisy sound, they all saw the disgusting monster.

Even if the Master Chief fired with all his strength to interfere with the leader, the distance between them was only three or four meters, which was still too close for the poison blade, which was comparable to the huge explosive power of the earth-shaking cannon. Now, two crucial loyalties The lives of the victims, a poison blade, and the efforts of tens of thousands of people. The war of tens of thousands of people is in front of him. Should he end the stupid racing of the orcs or stay for his friends...

At this moment, the second lieutenant could not make a decision. The gunner's questions began to become urgent. The weight of the decision-maker was pressing in his heart. Is it the comrades within sight or the lives of thousands of people? This is not a difficult multiple-choice question. But what the second lieutenant faced was not a question, but a living life.

"Tainted? How can it be counted? Your skills have saved my life. Many times, anyone can be considered tarnished, except you." After the Master Chief finished speaking, he pressed the shoulder of the mortal servant. He was a little at a loss, but The Master Chief simply said. "Wait a moment, I need to check the orc's life."

"Shut up, Xiami, what emperor, I have the final say now, Shigua, you red head, give me the airship, give me your helmet, and Kaka, I will let go of your Xiami Boy!"

"Alien..." The Master Chief was so angry that he wanted to eat this bastard alive. He could kill this bastard even with his bare hands, but now he couldn't.

But the extreme desire in his heart, victory, and those feelings inspired his spiritual energy. After a brief stagnation, those thoughts faintly entered the ensign's body from his mind. Before the orcs immediately left the shooting range, the ensign felt To that vague emotion, a sudden command. "Fire!"

The mortal was so frightened that he left his seat and the car, and now he had nothing. The wet blood of the orc and his own body fluids were red on his cheeks, but he still spoke. "Leave me alone! Shoot him, for the Emperor's sake!"

He could only take off his helmet, and slash the armor and bolter that he regarded as honor from the ground. The orc immediately lowered his head to pick it up, as if he saw incomparable wealth, but soon he raised his head, and the Master Chief was already there. With the help of his unskilled psychic energy, he approached with a speed that surpassed that of a Space Marine, and punched him in the face. His teeth were all scattered on the ground, and he felt like the world was spinning for a moment.

The orc let go of the mortal after feeling the pain, the chief helped his servant up, and then said. "You're going to be Skadi's prisoner, alien!"

I drank 7 butters and overplayed. My back hurts.