The rain had not stopped.
Instead, as time passed, it grew even more violent.
Raindrops the size of beans hammered against helmets, producing a dense crackling sound.
Everyone stood frozen in place, locked in a standoff with the figure blocking the trench entrance.
The power sword in Commissar Warren’s hand pointed diagonally toward the ground.
Rainwater ran down the blade, washing away the blood still clinging to it.
He did not look at anyone.
His gaze passed through the curtain of rain and fell upon the green shadows writhing in the distance.
“Hmph.”
A cold snort squeezed from his nose.
The Commissar turned his head.
Beneath the brim of his cap, his eyes swept coldly over Platoon Leader Karl before finally stopping on the soldiers who were still standing there in a daze.
“If you are not falling back to the second line now, am I supposed to invite you personally?”
His voice was as cold as his gaze.
“Move your rotten backsides!
Or do you want to stay here and become rations for those Greenskins?”
The rigid atmosphere instantly loosened.
“Yes, sir!
Everyone, move!
Now!”
Platoon Leader Karl snapped awake as if from a dream.
He had no time to wipe the cold sweat from his face as he turned and roared at his soldiers.
Only then did the soldiers breathe a sigh of relief.
They began frantically organizing their gear, supporting the wounded, and rushing toward the exit of the communication trench.
Platoon Leader Karl quickly walked to Rod’s side.
He glanced at the plasma gun in Rod’s hands, which was still giving off wisps of black smoke.
The heat vents on the weapon’s body were already slightly warped.
The deep blue glow in the core had gone completely dark, leaving only a sharp burnt smell.
“Give it here.”
The platoon leader reached out and took the heavy weapon.
His hand rested on the scalding handguard for a moment, and his brow tightened.
“Tch, this is going to be trouble…
I’ll have to argue with that iron-jawed sergeant for half a day again.
If this goes badly, I might even have to sacrifice my private bottle of amasec.”
Although he complained, his other hand still slapped Rod heavily on the shoulder.
The slap was so strong that Rod almost stumbled.
“Good work, recruit.
But there’s no time to pin a medal on you.
Get moving.”
The platoon leader turned and shouted at two veterans nearby, “Li!
David!
You two suppress first!
Buy these brats some time!
Don’t let those Greenskins crawl up here!”
“Got it, boss!”
The two veterans skillfully set up their lasguns and fired controlled bursts at the Greenskins trying to poke their heads out.
Using that brief opening, Platoon Leader Karl pulled three frag grenades from the tactical rig at his waist.
He looked at the foxhole where ammunition, gear, and spare rations had been stored, and a flash of pained reluctance crossed his eyes.
But he did not hesitate.
“Move!
All of you, get clear!”
He bit off the pull rings, held them in his hand for two seconds, then threw hard.
The three grenades traced an arc through the air and precisely dropped into the dark opening.
Boom!!!
A muffled explosion roared underground.
The ground jolted violently.
Thick smoke mixed with flames and shattered stone erupted from the opening, quickly swelling into a gray-black mushroom cloud that shot into the sky.
The shockwave, carrying flecks of mud, slammed hard into the backs of the people who had just run a short distance away.
The foxhole and the soil above it collapsed in an instant, becoming a steaming crater.
Rod looked back at the rising column of smoke and wiped the mudwater from his face.
What a pity.
I think there were still two crates of grox rations in there.
Wonder what kind of experience eating those would give.
“Stop looking!
Run!”
The platoon leader’s roar sounded behind him.
One hundred meters.
It was only a little over one hundred meters.
Under normal circumstances, they could have sprinted across it in seconds, but in this communication trench filled with shell craters, corpses, and sludge, every step took all their strength.
The mud swallowed their ankles.
Their boots were filled with water, clanking and sloshing with every step.
When Rod and the others finally climbed over the breastwork of the second defense line and collapsed at the bottom of the waterlogged trench, everyone looked as if they had just been dragged out of a river, gasping violently for breath.
The situation here was not much better than the front line.
Under the temporary rain shelters, wounded soldiers who had withdrawn from various positions were packed together.
The air was filled with the strong reek of disinfectant, blood, and sweat.
“Ah…
my lower half!
Where’s my lower half?!”
“Medic!
Where’s the medic?
He’s bleeding too much!”
“Mom…
I want to go home…”
Shrill screams, hopeless wails, and dying murmurs wove together throughout the trench.
Medics moved through the crowd, the cuffs of their khaki uniforms long since stained dark red.
More broken and defeated soldiers kept withdrawing through other communication trench entrances.
Some had lost their guns.
Some were missing an arm.
Some had their faces wrapped completely in bandages, their eyes hollow and numb.
Compared to them, Rod’s platoon might have been wounded and their armor battered, but at least their formation was still mostly intact.
Every soldier still gripped a weapon tightly in his hands.
The contrast was so obvious that the ash-covered routed soldiers around them cast looks of surprise and envy their way.
Platoon Leader Karl leaned against the soaked sandbags, panting heavily as he loaded rounds into his autopistol.
His gaze lingered on Rod for a while, then moved to the dejected friendly soldiers around them.
A bitter but proud smile appeared on his face.
Everyone knew who it was because of.
If not for that shot instantly killing the Ork Boss and throwing the Greenskins into chaos, they would probably have ended up like those routed troops, chased down and chopped into pieces.
However, that relief did not last long.
As time passed, the horrific casualties and the continued pressure from the Greenskins began to spread through the crowd like a plague.
“How are we supposed to fight this?
Those green monsters…”
“Where are the supplies?
Are they expecting us to use fire pokers against those beasts?”
“The big shots up there don’t care if we live or die at all…”
Low complaints buzzed like flies, gradually gathering into a restless undercurrent.
At that moment, a somewhat out-of-place figure ran out from behind the command bunker.
It was a middle-aged man in a clean uniform, wearing a gold-chain monocle.
A faintly glowing data-slate hung from his chest, and his right eye had been replaced by a mechanical augmetic.
He was the company adjutant.
With a smile plastered all over his face, he tried to squeeze into the crowd.
But his pampered appearance clashed badly with the murderous soldiers around him.
“Brothers!
Everyone has worked hard!
Hold on!
Reinforcements will arrive soon!
The Emperor is watching us!”
He waved his arms and loudly shouted those empty slogans.
No one answered him.
Several pairs of bloodshot eyes stared coldly at him.
At a time like this, that kind of nonsense only made people even angrier.
If he said one more wrong word, these soldiers whose nerves had been stretched to the limit would absolutely not mind using him to vent their rage.
Rod ignored the clown-like clerk.
He sat in the corner of the trench and, hidden beneath his rain cape, quietly opened the system panel in the corner of his vision.
[Kill Target: Ork Boss]
[Experience Gained: 100]
[Skill Progress: Plasma Gun Shooting LV2]
[Current Experience: 50/100]
[Kill Targets: Ork Boy x3, Gretchin x6]
[Experience Gained: 60]
[Skill Progress: Autogun Shooting LV4]
[Current Experience: 95/200]
Looking at the sharply increased experience bars, Rod finally felt a little comfort.
This wave was pure profit…
even if I almost paid for it with my life.
He was still immersed in the pleasure of leveling up when he suddenly sensed that the atmosphere around him was wrong.
That oppressive silence had turned into a disturbance on the verge of erupting.
“What did you say?
Hold the line and wait for reinforcements?
More of those lying ghost stories!”
“Go back to your office!
Stop standing here and pissing us off!”
Several hot-tempered veterans had already stood up and surrounded the adjutant.
The adjutant was shoved until he staggered.
Even his monocle fell off, and the smile on his face froze.
“Don’t…
don’t be like this!
I’m doing this for everyone too…”
He retreated while trying to explain, but his voice was drowned out by angry roars.
It looked like this unlucky bastard was about to get beaten.
Rod raised his head and saw the adjutant’s augmetic eye begin to flicker.
Its red light shifted into a rapid green flash, as if it were receiving some kind of information.
The adjutant froze.
Immediately after, wild joy appeared on his face.
“Stop!
Everyone stop!
Good news!
Wonderful news!”
He suddenly burst out with surprising strength, shoving aside a burly man in front of him and raising both hands high.
The sudden change stunned the soldiers around him.
The adjutant seized the chance to clear his throat, though his voice was still trembling.
“By the Emperor!
Look at this!
You bunch of…”
“Brave warriors.”
He suddenly pressed a button on the data-slate.
Bzzzt…
Along with a burst of static, a fan-shaped beam of light shot out from the projection module in his right eye.
The beam gathered in midair and formed a floating holographic video.
The image trembled slightly and carried some visual noise.
It had probably been recorded by a battlefield servo-skull.
But that did not weaken the shock of its contents.
In the image, a tiny figure stood in the trench, holding a plasma gun blazing with dazzling light.
Opposite him, that terrifying Ork Boss had raised its chainaxe high, ready to bring it down with the force to destroy everything.
The next second.
A blue-white sphere of light pierced straight through the Ork’s chest.
That arrogant Greenskin monster collapsed with a thunderous crash.
The image froze on the blackened hole in the Ork Boss’s chest and Rod’s back as he remained in a firing stance.
“This is our achievement!”
The adjutant pointed at the figure in the image.
“Since the war began, this is the first time!
We have killed a fully armed Ork Boss!
This is a miracle!
This is the Emperor’s blessing!”