After the first wave of attack was rcilessly crushed by the Helldivers, the tyranid Swarm chose a cautious retreat. Not only the combat units, but even the biomass pools in the distance, which were constantly converting planetary matter, began to writhe and contract.
Huge pipe-like organs extended from the bottom of the pools, like giant pythons, sucking away all the viscous biomass slurry within them and transporting it to a more distant location beyond the horizon, to prevent another devastating protheum fla strike.
The battlefield then fell into a deadly silence.
Only the sea of fire around the fortress, composed of protheum, continued to burn fiercely, crackling and turning the charred insect corpses into ashes. This silence was more grinding than deafening artillery fire; the air before a storm is always so oppressive and unbearable.
After this suffocating wait lasted for thirty minutes, Boni, the most impatient among them, finally couldn't hold back. He looked at the unmoving enemy responses on the tactical projection and suggested, "Why don't we just deploy the air force and bomb those new pools with tactical nuclear bombs? Actively increase the tyranid's hatred for us. Otherwise, the current combat intensity is too low, and many of our prepared backup asures can't be used, so we can't see which ones are most effective against the tyranid."
"Don't rush, Boni," Dimitry raised his hand to stop him, his eyes still calm as water. "Thirty minutes, even the peripheral protheum flas haven't extinguished yet. It's not yet ti to throw tactical nuclear bombs to draw aggro. Let's wait and see."
Ti ticked by, and after another ten-odd minutes of waiting, the tyranid Swarm moved.
The first abnormality appeared in the sky.
Initially, everyone thought it was just a strange black mist, perhaps so kind of spore cloud attack released by the tyranid Swarm. But when the "mist" approached, under the extre magnification of the optical lens, everyone finally saw its true face.
That was no mist at all; it was a living canopy ford by an endless swarm of flying xenos! Gargoyles with bat-like wings and exposed bones gathered into a black tide that blotted out the sun, sweeping down towards the fortress.
"Air units incoming! Anti-air firepower net, maximize output!" Joker's voice rang out in the comms channel.
All point-defense cannons imdiately turned their muzzles skyward, spewing tongues of death with all their might, attempting to stem the tide of these descending tyranid Swarm. Dense tracer rounds wove a huge net of fire in the air, tearing swathes of gargoyles to pieces, with flesh and carapace raining down.
It was precisely when all point-defense cannons were preoccupied that the ground swarm crossed the still-burning protheum fire wall.
Compared to before, this ti the hormagaunt swarm showed a clear change. Their bodies were covered with a thick layer of oily, shimring mucus, which even made the creatures' bodies slightly reflective in the firelight.
This mucus of unknown composition clearly provided sufficient insulation; they roared as they rushed into the sea of fire, the flas licking their bodies, but unable to ignite them imdiately. They endured the scorching flas, charging through the defensive line one after another.
"Such rapid evolution?" Boni's eyes widened, his face full of disbelief. "They can ignore protheum flas in such a short amount of ti?!"
"No, not ignore," Dimitry's voice remained calm. He pointed to the magnified image on the tactical projection and said in a deep voice, "Look closely, the tyranid that are charging through still have obvious charring on their lower bodies and the parts that contacted the flas. This layer of mucus can only temporarily hinder the direct damage of protheum flas. If an incendiary round directly hits their bodies, they still can't withstand it."
He paused, his tone becoming even more solemn: "...But this amount of ti is enough for them to cross the fire wall, and also enough for the other tyranid following behind to drag back and recycle the bodies of those that are killed."
Leonid looked at the ground swarm of flesh and claws on the tactical projection, his brow furrowed: "Without fire support from point-defense cannons, relying solely on the laser guns, heavy stubbers, and heavy bolters on the defensive line, it will probably be difficult to suppress a tyranid charge of this scale."
Dimitry understood Leonid's unspoken aning — whether or not to use backup asures now. But he still said calmly, "No need to rush. This is a good opportunity to collect data on the killing efficiency of various individual weapons against different tyranid units."
Hearing this, the always-silent Joker imdiately understood Dimitry's intention. He waved his hand to the side, and a commander imdiately handed him a communicator.
"Outpost Three, this is Command. Can you hear ? Over." Joker's voice was steady and clear.
The communicator quickly returned an echo, interspersed with dense gunfire and xeno shrieks: "This is Outpost Three, Command, please speak. Over."
"Reduce your fire density. Let so hormagaunts through," Joker gave the command clearly. "We need to test the killing efficiency of various close-quarters combat thods against the tyranid. Also, grab a few alive while you're at it. Over."
"Outpost Three acknowledged. Over."
The communication ended, and the holographic projection in the command center imdiately switched to a real-ti view of Outpost Three. Upon receiving the order, the Helldivers at this outpost showed almost no hesitation.
The previously dense firing line instantly developed several gaps. Several of the foremost hormagaunts were thus allowed to pass, unscathed, through the final fire blockade, roaring as they charged towards the outpost.
This straightforward order, almost equivalent to telling the outpost soldiers to commit suicide imdiately, was executed with such unwavering obedience? Wick felt a chill of disbelief.
When the hormagaunts charged close, the Helldivers in the trenches truly began to draw regular weapons like entrenching tools, bayonets, and combat knives, facing the monsters wielding scythe-like giant claws. The ensuing scene astonished Wick; these soldiers' close-quarters combat abilities were astonishingly powerful.
Their movents were precise, deadly, and they possessed superhuman strength and speed. After paying the price of several lives, they used cold weapons to kill these few hormagaunts that had broken into the outpost, with an exchange ratio of almost one-to-one.
However, capturing the last remaining hormagaunt alive resulted in far greater casualties than before. To subdue it without killing it, at least a dozen Helldivers were disemboweled by its sharp giant claws. After finally pinning it down with a human wave tactic, the hormagaunt's mouth suddenly snapped open, spewing out an even smaller, scorpion-like creature!
The small creature was as fast as lightning, pouncing directly onto the face of a Helldiver, and began to savagely tear at him with its sharp claws and teeth. The soldier's gas mask was instantly shredded, followed by a grueso scene of flying flesh and blood.
The surrounding Helldivers imdiately drew their daggers, preparing to kill this ferocious little thing. Just then, Boni in the command center's eyes lit up, and he excitedly shouted, "We want that small one alive too!"
Joker imdiately relayed the order. And the Helldivers at Outpost Three, upon hearing the command, actually retracted their already raised daggers. Even the soldier with the creature on his face, half his cheek torn off, lowered his right hand which was already raised and holding a dagger.
Ultimately, the small one was captured. But the cost was that the Helldivers had already been stabbed through the eye into his brain by its mouthparts, dying a violent death. And several other Helldivers who attempted to grab it with their bare hands mostly had several fingers, or even entire palms, severed by its sharp appendages.
Seeing all this, Wick seed to understand why the guards of these three Tech-Priests were not Skitarii Guard.
Ordinary Astra Militarum in such a situation, even if they didn't openly defy orders, would certainly feel extre dissatisfaction with the officer who gave such an outrageous command, and the soldiers' morale would inevitably reach a dangerous breaking point.
But these Helldivers, however, still executed every word without hesitation.
Although the Skitarii Guard could also achieve this level of absolute obedience, which Magos would dare to expend them like this? The bionic modifications and data implants for every Skitarii Guard mber were extrely expensive! Treating them as disposable consumables like this would be akin to using gold bricks to crack walnuts.
And these Helldivers before him... they were too cheap. They only needed a set of standard carapace armor and a lasgun. Wick couldn't even recall seeing them eat in his mory! Were these Astra Militarum truly human?
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