Chapter 164: Death of the Warlord
Ghani the Madfang was somewhat surprised.
Those little shrimps actually dared to charge proactively, which he hadn't expected at all.
In fact, every shrimp he had encountered along the way had shown considerable bravery, almost willing to fight to the death against them, even at the cost of enormous casualties.
Unfortunately, they just weren't skilled enough; otherwise, the slaughter would have been even more enjoyable.
But even so, these brave soldiers had done their best to avoid close combat, preferring instead to delay them from afar, using ranged firepower to thin their numbers, hoping that their greater numbers would allow them to hold out until final victory.
This was the first time he had encountered shrimps who dared to charge at them proactively.
Interesting.
But Ghani the Madfang didn’t feel concerned.
Maybe they had some special trick up their sleeves, but it didn’t matter—bring it on. He, Ghani the Warlord, feared nothing!
Using his furious rockets and melta cannon, he struck down several more enemies, and amidst the fierce crossfire, some shrimps managed to get close.
He grabbed the massive axe hanging from his back and, with a single horizontal swing, cleaved three shrimps in half at the waist.
Then, more shrimps charged at him.
Yet the human soldiers who came face-to-face with this nearly three-meter-tall steel giant, who could withstand concentrated fire from automatic cannons, found themselves at a loss.
Even if they reached him, what could they do? Could bullets penetrate his armor up close, or would bayonets even make a dent?
But the soldiers had their methods.
Ghani noticed that some shrimps were carrying explosives.
It was meaningless though, as they didn’t even get the chance to detonate the bombs in front of him.
The shrimp had clearly underestimated Ghani's reflexes and speed; despite being nearly three meters tall, he moved like lightning.
With a single kick, he crushed the soldier's chest, sending him flying several meters away.
Then another soldier picked up the fallen explosive pack and charged forward, this time with the fuse already lit.
But he didn’t even get close—Ghani shot him from six or seven meters away.
The premature detonation of the explosive pack caused a blast, but the heat wave and shockwave from several meters away were harmless to Ghani.
In fact, they even killed two human soldiers standing nearby.
In short, the human soldiers' charge was tragic and bloody, but ultimately... pointless.
They barely managed to kill a few greenskins and suffered heavy casualties themselves, as if they were throwing their lives away.
If things continued like this, it wouldn't be long before all the soldiers were dead.
Ghani thought so too and considered the opposing commander to be an idiot, even dumber than the slowest guy in his tribe.
Just as he thought that, he was hit by a powerful blow.
Two blue beams of light shot out from the human soldiers’ ranks.
These beams were not ordinary attacks, penetrating his armor directly, leaving two smoking holes in his chest and head.
This was real damage, and the shot to his head, in particular, brought searing pain.
However, what his armor didn’t block, his skull did.
His head wasn’t pierced, but he could feel the intense pain on his forehead, as though his skull was fractured.
The shot to his chest went even deeper, damaging his respiratory system.
Even for him, these hits were serious injuries.
Not fatal, but definitely painful.
With his respiratory system damaged, even breathing tasted metallic; with a fractured skull, his head spun a bit.
In his dazed state, he spotted two large shrimps in blood-red power armor about seventy meters away, holding plasma guns still glowing from the charge.
Meanwhile, two more shrimps in blood-red power armor had closed in to within ten meters.
How had he not seen them before?
Such big targets, even if mixed in with charging human soldiers, should have been highly conspicuous—impossible to miss.
However, he had no time to ponder why now.
At close range, the two big shrimps raised their weapons.
The one in the lead, wearing a black skull helmet and wielding a staff, was none other than the Phoenix Battalion’s Chaplain, Nicola Rizo!
He raised his staff and swung it at Ghani’s head.
Caught off guard, Ghani could only stagger backward, swinging his battle axe in retaliation against the Chaplain.
A draw.
Injured and taken by surprise, Ghani couldn’t bring his full strength to bear, resulting in an even match between the two.
Rizo’s gravity staff broke Ghani’s guard, but Rizo was also forced back a couple of steps from the clash.
But Rizo wasn’t the only one attacking.
Martins, wielding a chainsword, followed closely behind, seizing the opportunity to strike Ghani’s chest.
The chainsword tore through Ghani’s heavy chest armor.
The previous plasma gun blast had not only punctured his chest armor and injured his lungs but had also weakened his chest plate.
Without this prior damage, Martins’ chainsword wouldn’t have been nearly as effective.
A massive wound appeared on his chest, green blood gushing from it.
Just as Martins was about to press on and try to slice the warlord in half with his next blow, a powerful kick from Ghani hit him in the waist.
Ghani’s physical strength was overwhelming; even a fully armored space marine was sent flying several meters, landing hard on the ground.
At the same time, Ghani twisted his body, attempting to aim the melta cannon on his shoulder at Nicola Rizo, who was currently tangled with a nearby “Kill Krusha” Ork.
If that shot hit, the melta cannon’s power would be enough to kill the Chaplain instantly.
However, it didn’t come to pass.
Just as he was about to aim, Ghani found himself unable to move.
A mysterious force created a binding that slowed his movements.
He barely managed to fire the melta cannon, but it shot upward, blasting a hole in the ceiling and exposing the floor above.
At that moment, the two distant space marines moved into action, their plasma guns recharged and aimed at the Kill Krusha entangling Rizo.
Unlike their Warlord, Kill Krushas did not possess the same resilience; their armor was far thinner.
The plasma beams pierced the armor with minimal resistance, and the greenskins or grots sealed inside didn’t have the thick skulls to resist it.
After two shots, the Kill Krusha was done, freeing Rizo.
Several greenskin “Boyz” tried to intervene, but human soldiers rushed forward bravely, fixing bayonets and charging them.
Though they were quickly slaughtered, more soldiers kept advancing, even overturning the greenskins, stabbing at their eyes and necks with bayonets.
The sacrifices and the resulting kills allowed Rizo to fight freely once again.
He swung his staff, crushing another Kill Krusha that was trying to raise its gun and fire at the human troops.
The gravity staff caved in the armor on its chest.
Turning back, the old Chaplain set his gaze on Ghani the Madfang, raising his gravity staff.
He muttered words, which upon close listening, sounded like verses from the God Emperor’s Holy Scriptures.
The words filled him with newfound resolve, and his blows grew even stronger.
The next hammer strike slammed into Ghani’s chest, shattering the chest armor that had already been torn by the chainsword, possibly even breaking several of Ghani’s ribs.
Martins soon joined the assault, chainsword poised to strike again.
“Roar!”
Facing death, the Ork Warlord let out a deafening roar.
A strange power surged from within him, first shattering the bonds holding him.
From a distant vantage point, Gu Hang grunted, blood seeping from his nose, mouth, and ears.
He had used mind manipulation to make the greenskin Warlord overlook the four Phoenix Marines mixed with the infantry, giving the Marines an advantage that resulted in severe injuries for Ghani.
Then, when Ghani tried to fire his melta cannon at Rizo, Gu Hang had again intervened, using high-level telekinesis to disrupt the attack, forcing him to misfire.
But achieving this had come at a cost, as he felt intense pressure.
During the mind manipulation, he sensed a peculiar force in the Warlord’s mind that kept it in a state of constant, controlled rage, making mental interference exceptionally challenging and time-consuming.
This delay had cost the lives of many ordinary soldiers on the battlefield.
While controlling Ghani’s body, it felt like wrestling with a tank—no, even after upgrading his psychic abilities and achieving twenty points in the spirit attribute, he felt as if he could flip a lion tank with his mind.
But against Ghani, he could barely restrain his movements.
This outcome, though, was within expectations.
Being able to accomplish this much and assist the space marines in this way was sufficient.
Ghani the Madfang was somewhat surprised.
Those little shrimps actually dared to charge proactively, which he hadn't expected at all.
In fact, every shrimp he had encountered along the way had shown considerable bravery, almost willing to fight to the death against them, even at the cost of enormous casualties.
Unfortunately, they just weren't skilled enough; otherwise, the slaughter would have been even more enjoyable.
But even so, these brave soldiers had done their best to avoid close combat, preferring instead to delay them from afar, using ranged firepower to thin their numbers, hoping that their greater numbers would allow them to hold out until final victory.
This was the first time he had encountered shrimps who dared to charge at them proactively.
Interesting.
But Ghani the Madfang didn’t feel concerned.
Maybe they had some special trick up their sleeves, but it didn’t matter—bring it on. He, Ghani the Warlord, feared nothing!
Using his furious rockets and melta cannon, he struck down several more enemies, and amidst the fierce crossfire, some shrimps managed to get close.
He grabbed the massive axe hanging from his back and, with a single horizontal swing, cleaved three shrimps in half at the waist.
Then, more shrimps charged at him.
Yet the human soldiers who came face-to-face with this nearly three-meter-tall steel giant, who could withstand concentrated fire from automatic cannons, found themselves at a loss.
Even if they reached him, what could they do? Could bullets penetrate his armor up close, or would bayonets even make a dent?
But the soldiers had their methods.
Ghani noticed that some shrimps were carrying explosives.
It was meaningless though, as they didn’t even get the chance to detonate the bombs in front of him.
The shrimp had clearly underestimated Ghani's reflexes and speed; despite being nearly three meters tall, he moved like lightning.
With a single kick, he crushed the soldier's chest, sending him flying several meters away.
Then another soldier picked up the fallen explosive pack and charged forward, this time with the fuse already lit.
But he didn’t even get close—Ghani shot him from six or seven meters away.
The premature detonation of the explosive pack caused a blast, but the heat wave and shockwave from several meters away were harmless to Ghani.
In fact, they even killed two human soldiers standing nearby.
In short, the human soldiers' charge was tragic and bloody, but ultimately... pointless.
They barely managed to kill a few greenskins and suffered heavy casualties themselves, as if they were throwing their lives away.
If things continued like this, it wouldn't be long before all the soldiers were dead.
Ghani thought so too and considered the opposing commander to be an idiot, even dumber than the slowest guy in his tribe.
Just as he thought that, he was hit by a powerful blow.
Two blue beams of light shot out from the human soldiers’ ranks.
These beams were not ordinary attacks, penetrating his armor directly, leaving two smoking holes in his chest and head.
This was real damage, and the shot to his head, in particular, brought searing pain.
However, what his armor didn’t block, his skull did.
His head wasn’t pierced, but he could feel the intense pain on his forehead, as though his skull was fractured.
The shot to his chest went even deeper, damaging his respiratory system.
Even for him, these hits were serious injuries.
Not fatal, but definitely painful.
With his respiratory system damaged, even breathing tasted metallic; with a fractured skull, his head spun a bit.
In his dazed state, he spotted two large shrimps in blood-red power armor about seventy meters away, holding plasma guns still glowing from the charge.
Meanwhile, two more shrimps in blood-red power armor had closed in to within ten meters.
How had he not seen them before?
Such big targets, even if mixed in with charging human soldiers, should have been highly conspicuous—impossible to miss.
However, he had no time to ponder why now.
At close range, the two big shrimps raised their weapons.
The one in the lead, wearing a black skull helmet and wielding a staff, was none other than the Phoenix Battalion’s Chaplain, Nicola Rizo!
He raised his staff and swung it at Ghani’s head.
Caught off guard, Ghani could only stagger backward, swinging his battle axe in retaliation against the Chaplain.
A draw.
Injured and taken by surprise, Ghani couldn’t bring his full strength to bear, resulting in an even match between the two.
Rizo’s gravity staff broke Ghani’s guard, but Rizo was also forced back a couple of steps from the clash.
But Rizo wasn’t the only one attacking.
Martins, wielding a chainsword, followed closely behind, seizing the opportunity to strike Ghani’s chest.
The chainsword tore through Ghani’s heavy chest armor.
The previous plasma gun blast had not only punctured his chest armor and injured his lungs but had also weakened his chest plate.
Without this prior damage, Martins’ chainsword wouldn’t have been nearly as effective.
A massive wound appeared on his chest, green blood gushing from it.
Just as Martins was about to press on and try to slice the warlord in half with his next blow, a powerful kick from Ghani hit him in the waist.
Ghani’s physical strength was overwhelming; even a fully armored space marine was sent flying several meters, landing hard on the ground.
At the same time, Ghani twisted his body, attempting to aim the melta cannon on his shoulder at Nicola Rizo, who was currently tangled with a nearby “Kill Krusha” Ork.
If that shot hit, the melta cannon’s power would be enough to kill the Chaplain instantly.
However, it didn’t come to pass.
Just as he was about to aim, Ghani found himself unable to move.
A mysterious force created a binding that slowed his movements.
He barely managed to fire the melta cannon, but it shot upward, blasting a hole in the ceiling and exposing the floor above.
At that moment, the two distant space marines moved into action, their plasma guns recharged and aimed at the Kill Krusha entangling Rizo.
Unlike their Warlord, Kill Krushas did not possess the same resilience; their armor was far thinner.
The plasma beams pierced the armor with minimal resistance, and the greenskins or grots sealed inside didn’t have the thick skulls to resist it.
After two shots, the Kill Krusha was done, freeing Rizo.
Several greenskin “Boyz” tried to intervene, but human soldiers rushed forward bravely, fixing bayonets and charging them.
Though they were quickly slaughtered, more soldiers kept advancing, even overturning the greenskins, stabbing at their eyes and necks with bayonets.
The sacrifices and the resulting kills allowed Rizo to fight freely once again.
He swung his staff, crushing another Kill Krusha that was trying to raise its gun and fire at the human troops.
The gravity staff caved in the armor on its chest.
Turning back, the old Chaplain set his gaze on Ghani the Madfang, raising his gravity staff.
He muttered words, which upon close listening, sounded like verses from the God Emperor’s Holy Scriptures.
The words filled him with newfound resolve, and his blows grew even stronger.
The next hammer strike slammed into Ghani’s chest, shattering the chest armor that had already been torn by the chainsword, possibly even breaking several of Ghani’s ribs.
Martins soon joined the assault, chainsword poised to strike again.
“Roar!”
Facing death, the Ork Warlord let out a deafening roar.
A strange power surged from within him, first shattering the bonds holding him.
From a distant vantage point, Gu Hang grunted, blood seeping from his nose, mouth, and ears.
He had used mind manipulation to make the greenskin Warlord overlook the four Phoenix Marines mixed with the infantry, giving the Marines an advantage that resulted in severe injuries for Ghani.
Then, when Ghani tried to fire his melta cannon at Rizo, Gu Hang had again intervened, using high-level telekinesis to disrupt the attack, forcing him to misfire.
But achieving this had come at a cost, as he felt intense pressure.
During the mind manipulation, he sensed a peculiar force in the Warlord’s mind that kept it in a state of constant, controlled rage, making mental interference exceptionally challenging and time-consuming.
This delay had cost the lives of many ordinary soldiers on the battlefield.
While controlling Ghani’s body, it felt like wrestling with a tank—no, even after upgrading his psychic abilities and achieving twenty points in the spirit attribute, he felt as if he could flip a lion tank with his mind.
But against Ghani, he could barely restrain his movements.
This outcome, though, was within expectations.
Being able to accomplish this much and assist the space marines in this way was sufficient.