When Rod charged onto the northern defense line, boots sinking deep into ankle-high mud with every step, what greeted him was a scene straight out of hell.
This could no longer be called a defense line.
The once orderly sandbag walls had been blasted apart.
The communication trench was packed with corpses.
Most were Astra Militarum soldiers in khaki uniforms.
A smaller portion were severed green limbs.
Inside the trench, dozens of Stormboyz with smoking rocket packs darted around like flies.
Along the trench edge, countless clawing green figures were climbing over, and every swing of their crude choppas and axes brought up a spray of crimson blood.
“Hold!
Hold the line!!”
A sergeant covered in blood screamed desperately, firing his laspistol in vain.
The next second, his head was crushed by a huge hand like a watermelon.
This was the normal state of the Astra Militarum when facing Greenskins.
Without heavy weapons and the advantage of cover, mortal flesh was as fragile as paper before the unreasonable brute force of Orks.
Several routed soldiers who had thrown away their helmets and armor were crying as they ran back, only to run straight into Rod charging against the tide.
They froze for a moment.
There was no light in their eyes.
To them, he was just another recruit forced forward by a Commissar to die.
Even the Orks in the middle of the slaughter merely glanced at Rod before continuing to chase easier prey.
No one took this skinny, bamboo-like human seriously.
Rod stopped.
He did not look at the routed soldiers, nor at the Stormboyz flying chaotically overhead.
His gaze locked firmly onto a section of trench a few meters away.
There, a tall and muscular Ork Boy was grinning savagely, its serrated axe raised high as it chased a young vox operator who had fallen to the ground.
The Greenskin’s back was hunched, its broad spine covered in knotted muscle that rippled with every movement.
Even the lowest Ork Boy weighed at least as much as two grown men.
Rod took a deep breath.
It felt as if a fire had ignited in his lungs.
Thud.
His boot kicked hard against the ground, spraying mud everywhere.
No battle cry.
No nonsense.
His whole body shot forward like a cannon shell, instantly crossing those few meters of death ground.
At this distance, that strong Ork was fully twice as wide as Rod.
Visually, it looked like an antelope charging into a rhinoceros.
Pure suicide.
That was the only thought in the minds of everyone watching.
Bang!!!
A dull, heavy impact drowned out the surrounding shouts and screams.
The expected scene of Rod being sent flying did not happen.
Time seemed to freeze for one frame.
The Ork Boy that had been laughing wildly suddenly had its eyes bulge out.
Its yellow-spotted face twisted into an expression of extreme shock and pain.
Its huge, heavy body was actually lifted off the ground by that collision, flying backward like a kicked sack of rotten grain.
“Waa…?”
The Ork let out a distorted cry.
Its back slammed heavily into the wet trench wall, shaking loose clumps of rotten mud.
Then its whole body lost control, bounced off, and rolled into the muddy water at the bottom of the trench, splashing up a filthy wave.
Rod did not pause at all.
The flak plate on his shoulder had completely shattered from the impact, exposing the scraped and bleeding flesh beneath, but he seemed unable to feel pain.
His hand had already reached a weapon mounted at a firing slit.
It was a stubber.
This old kinetic weapon usually required a main gunner and an assistant gunner to serve it.
Its heavy body and massive recoil meant it had to be fired from a bipod.
But in Rod’s hands, that heavy chunk of metal was like an ordinary autogun.
“Up!”
With a rough breath, the muscles in Rod’s arms bulged, and he ripped the gun straight off its firing position with one hand.
He did not look for a mount at all.
He simply braced the stock hard against his waist, lowered the muzzle, and aimed at the Ork that was just struggling to get back up.
The black muzzle was less than a meter from the Ork’s huge face.
Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat!
The muzzle spat a half-meter tongue of flame.
Point-blank range.
Full-power ammunition.
The Ork did not even have time to raise a hand before its entire upper body was blown into a bursting cloud of blood mist.
Chunks of flesh, bone fragments, and green blood sprayed across the trench wall like a fountain.
But it was not over.
Rod did not release the trigger.
He turned, gripping the violently bucking heavy stubber with both hands like Rambo, and aimed at several more Orks climbing over the trench.
“Die!”
The heavy stubber’s massive recoil shook Rod’s entire body, and his boots stamped two deep pits into the mud.
Although the stubber did not have the armor penetration and explosive power of a heavy bolter, its rate of fire and kinetic force were like a harvesting machine against Greenskins wearing only scraps of metal or nothing at all.
Pfft, pfft, pfft, pfft…
The dull sound of bullets drilling into flesh merged into one.
The three Orks at the front looked as if they had hit an invisible wall.
Their bodies shook like sieves in midair as green blood sprayed out, then they crashed heavily into the mud, turning into twitching heaps of rotten flesh.
[Autogun Shooting Experience +5]
[Autogun Shooting Experience +5]
A stubber was still a large autogun.
At the edge of his retina, system notifications were flashing like mad.
Rod did not even bother looking.
All he saw were green blood flowers bursting open one after another.
That feeling of destruction finally eased the suffocating pressure in his chest a little.
Click.
A crisp empty-chamber sound rang out.
The thunderous gunfire stopped abruptly.
The barrel had turned red-hot, even hissing as it radiated scorching heat.
The ammunition belt box was empty.
Around Rod, within a radius of ten meters, a strange vacuum had actually appeared.
No matter how brutal the fighting was on both sides of the trench, no matter how earth-shaking the Orks roared in the distance, not a single Greenskin dared fill this gap.
Those Orks that had been so arrogant moments ago were now staring at this skinny human holding a smoking heavy gun with uncertain eyes.
Orks loved war.
That was true.
They were not smart.
That was also true.
But that was when facing opponents on the same level.
When something that looked weak suddenly erupted with killing power more terrifying than their own, biological instinct made them hesitate.
Rod casually tore away the empty belt box.
Instead of retreating, he advanced.
“Come on!!!”
He let out a roar, actually leaping out from behind cover.
Holding the heavy stubber, he used it directly as an iron club and charged toward the nearest group of Orks.
Bang!
The heavy stock came down with a rush of wind and smashed an Ork Boy’s skull like cracking a walnut.
Yellow-white brain matter mixed with green blood burst across the ground.
Crack!
The barrel swept sideways and broke another Ork’s neck outright.
The unlucky creature’s head drooped at a grotesque angle, and its body collapsed limply.
Rod charged back and forth through the muddy trench.
Every swing of the stubber in his hands came with the crisp sound of bones shattering.
[Melee Combat Unlocked LV1]
[Melee Combat Experience: 45/50]
[Strength Experience: 93/200]
The experience bars soared.
The northern defense line, which had been on the verge of collapse like a broken dam, was somehow blocked by one man using the most primitive and savage method imaginable.
“Look…
Look at that private!”
“Emperor above…
What kind of monster is that?”
The routed soldiers who had been ready to throw down their guns and flee stared in a daze.
Fear was contagious.
But so was courage.
“He didn’t run…
so why the hell are we running?!”
“Damn it!
Fight these Greenskin bastards!”
No one knew who shouted first.
The despairing soldiers had the flame of survival rekindled in their eyes.
They turned their guns around one after another, threw themselves back into firing positions, and opened fire madly at the Orks whose formation had been thrown into chaos by Rod.
The line stabilized.
Just as the situation was beginning to turn…
Thud!
Thud!
Thud!
Heavy footsteps struck the ground like hammers.
An even thicker, fouler stench surged toward them.
“WAAAAAAAAGH!!!!”
A deafening war cry erupted.
A huge black shadow smashed through the rain and appeared above the trench.
It was a true brute.
This Ork Nob was fully two heads taller than the Boyz from before, definitely over two meters tall.
It no longer wore ragged leather armor, but heavy riveted iron plate armor, with human helmets hanging all over it as decoration.
In its left hand was a thick shoota still smoking.
Its right hand…
Was a roaring power klaw!
Although it was not a mega-armored Nob comparable in size to Terminator armor, in this trench filled only with light infantry, it was an invincible tank.
“Die, humie!”
The Ork Nob grinned savagely and raised the shoota in its left hand.
Dakka, dakka, dakka!
A burst of thick rounds swept across.
In a nearby section of trench, three Astra Militarum soldiers who had just mustered the courage to raise their heads were instantly torn apart, flesh and blood splattering across the cover.
The small bit of morale that had just risen was about to collapse again.
That pressure was too overwhelming.
Mortals simply could not oppose such a monster.
Except…
For the man even crazier than the monster.
Rod looked at the Ork Nob flaunting its power.
There was no fear in him.
“Fuck you!”
Rod roared, and the mud beneath his feet exploded.
He actually charged straight at that massive creature without dodging or retreating.
The distance between them rapidly closed.
Ten meters.
Five meters.
The Ork Nob seemed to feel insulted.
It roared and raised that terrifying power klaw, preparing to cut this reckless little bug in two.
However…
Whoosh!
A black object smashed toward it with a rush of wind.
While charging, Rod had actually used the deformed heavy stubber in his hands like a javelin, swinging it in a full arc and hurling it straight at the Ork Nob’s face.
Clang!
The blow landed squarely on the Ork Nob’s face with tremendous force.
Even with its thick skin and tough flesh, taking a chunk of iron weighing dozens of kilograms to the face did not feel good.
Its head snapped back, and its movement slowed by half a beat.
That half beat was enough.
Rod had already rushed in front of it.
He did not use his knife.
Nor did he use his fists.
His hands shot out, and he actually grabbed the Ork Nob’s massive power klaw.
The hydraulic claw that could cut through tank armor!
“Roar?!”
The Ork Nob was completely enraged.
It strained its arm, trying to fling Rod away.
But…
It was shocked to discover that this little humie’s strength was wrong!
“Let…
go!!!”
The blood vessels on Rod’s neck looked ready to burst.
His face flushed crimson, and his feet sank deep into the mud.
He was wrestling a Greenskin beast!
In full view of everyone!
All the soldiers, and even the Orks that had been howling moments ago, forgot to fire.
They all stared stupidly at this scene.
Creak…
creak…
The piercing sound of twisting metal rang out.
At the connection point of the Ork Nob’s prized power klaw, the hydraulic tubes and belts actually began to split apart beneath Rod’s hands, which were bleeding from exertion.
“Hraaaaaaah!!!”
With Rod’s final heart-rending roar…
Snap…
zzzrk!!!
A great spray of black hydraulic oil and sparks erupted.
That massive metal claw had actually been torn off the Ork Nob’s arm by Rod’s bare hands.