"We're here."
Hektor picked up the boltgun in his hand and habitually tapped it against his armor. Only when he heard the familiar and reassuring metallic clang did he begin to check his ammunition.
His current magazine held seventeen bolts, and five more magazines were stored on the back of his armor.
Enough.
In the early stages of the Great Crusade, incinerator weapons were more common and widespread than the boltguns Hektor wielded. However, after several attempts, the rising star of the Second Legion found that incinerator weapons didn't suit him. Although powerful, they lacked the flexibility for Hektor's direct combat style.
The Hunter Squad, temporarily expanded to six members, was hidden in the shadows where their final objective was vaguely visible. It was a perfectly situated vantage point, with the surrounding thick smoke and strange, sprawling ruins easily concealing the Astartes' figures.
They checked their weapons, preparing for the upcoming final battle.
Except for Ezio, the Shadow Champion, who had barely rested before resuming his old profession: blending into the shadows, serving as the vanguard and the first pair of eyes.
Weapons, supplies, and ammunition were laid out for inventory: Power Swords, heavy bolters, plasma pistols, and ordinary alloy longswords all showed varying degrees of wear and tear. Although still usable, they ran the risk of breaking at any moment. Ammunition, however, was plentiful, thanks to Eris, the new addition, who carried ample supplies.
In contrast, the longsword radiating a faint emerald glow in Hektor's hand appeared completely undamaged.
Through the faint haze of smoke, the Astartes' superhuman vision allowed them to observe the target location. After a period of silent observation and preparation, they began to piece together an attack plan while waiting for the Shadow Champion to return.
Just then, Ezio, like a phantom in the night sky, returned to his comrades, speaking succinctly.
"There are 56 individuals on the surface, but most facilities are underground, and their status is unknown. There's a suitable attack point at two o'clock, overlooking most surface structures, including both heavy fire points. One of them is guarded by a high-ranking officer, presumably a Randan Overlord, and there are three suspected Psykers."
"Are there any hidden sentries?"
No sooner had Kyron's words fallen than the Shadow Champion reached for his waist and tossed out five blood-stained markers.
"Not anymore."
Kyron nodded, while Hektor took the opportunity to reiterate their newly discussed attack plan. The plan caused the Shadow Champion to hesitate for a rare moment. After a while, he spoke slowly.
"Apologies... I haven't had the experience of fighting alongside battle-brothers from other Legion fleets before. I only officially encountered these methods on the eve of the Sundering. I cannot offer further suggestions or additions."
These words drew everyone's gaze to Kyron. The Legion's Ancient Warrior merely smiled, a smile utterly unlike his usual one – a reassuring, elder's smile.
"Oh, well, I admit it's been a long time since I experimented with this tactic either, but I can assure you, it's not complicated at all. In fact, it's rather ancient."
"But very effective."
——————
"Listen closely, Hektor, this is a very simple tactic. Its history is almost as old as the Legion itself, and its core essence is only three points."
"Firepower."
"Speed."
"And seamless coordination."
The shadow glided past the broken high walls and constantly alert gazes, continuously leaping and dancing through the narrowest, darkest corners. It paused for a breath near a wall, then gradually approached the outermost heavy fire point.
About five seconds later, the Randan soldier operating the heavy weapon let out a low whimper from its throat. The secondary weapon loader kneeling beside it didn't even have time to shift its gaze before suffering the same fate.
But the moment they fell, a tiny device hidden within their armor, connected to their hearts, suddenly began to shriek, a piercing sound that instantly penetrated the armor and air, echoing throughout the entire base.
All crimson eyes converged on that spot in an instant. Without the slightest hesitation, every Randan soldier within firing range swiveled their muzzles. Countless tongues of flame instantly perforated and pulverized the firing position that had just been a safe rear, a dense rain of bullets mixed with countless bombs, until it was confirmed that no living thing could possibly remain.
Yet, despite this, a small squad skillfully began to approach the ruins. Three Randan Psykers started waving their staffs, murmuring incantations, ready to cast spells at any moment.
Compared to the panicked warriors Hektor's squad had encountered before, these Randan soldiers were clearly more elite, and more indifferent and rational towards the death of their comrades.
The shadow continued to advance. Countless detectors incessantly shrieked, causing all the Xenos soldiers to fall into a brief state of bewilderment. They hesitated between two choices: whether to believe the detectors were faulty, or if their eyes were truly deceived.
This hesitation didn't last long, because almost in the next second, the Psyker leader standing at the center of the squad let out a short, sharp cry of agony. Its faceplate was mercilessly torn open by a faint flash, and its abruptly severed whispers scattered in the air like a broken necklace.
Astonishment, despair, and a terrifying madness simultaneously appeared on the Psyker's face. It didn't hesitate for a moment. As the first cold breath of air rushed into its trachea, its last wisp of psychic energy unhesitatingly ignited its soul, transforming its entire body into a massive bomb.
The shockwave swept through, shaking heaven and earth. Even a true ghost couldn't emerge unscathed from such a decisive act. The Randan Overlord, standing at the outermost perimeter, coldly watched its comrade's final sacrifice, and then its gaze successfully caught a ripple in the air.
It roared, issuing orders. Countless tongues of flame poured into the area it indicated, mixed with the piercing screams of the remaining two Randan Psykers.
But this shriek was not directed at the killer of their comrade; it was a warning.
In the next breath, as the Randan Overlord's ominous premonition grew, two equally loud psychic howls erupted simultaneously from the north and east sides of the fortress. The powerful force of human Psykers descended upon the Xenos army at that moment.
A storm raged, sending sand and stones flying. The already crumbling high walls were completely uprooted, transforming into a torrential rain of rocks and scrap metal that crashed down upon the Xenos' heads.
"Can you hold on over there?"
Salieri, constantly pushing his psychic energy to its limit, questioned Eris through his remaining thread of will.
"Relax."
Eris's gritted reply didn't sound relaxed at all, but his tone held a reassuring composure.
"This level of exertion, I can handle it. I'm stronger than you think."
"Do you know what my mentors called me?"
"A dangerous individual."
Countless dust clouds rose with the terrifying attack, briefly obscuring everyone's vision. And while the defenders were temporarily disoriented for a second, the remaining three Second Legion warriors seized the opportunity to push forward.
Ajax and Kyron approached from the north. The massive Astartes warrior, holding his gigantic heavy bolter, continuously spat out fire. His priority target was the Randan Overlord commanding from above, after which he began to suppress all the Xenos present with a furious barrage of firepower.
The Legion's Ancient Warrior moved along both flanks of the heavy fire output. The plasma pistol in his hand, which almost never overheated, fired with extremely high frequency. Kyron was not running or rolling; he moved through the dust with an almost serene composure, calmly harvesting every Randan soldier who attempted to counterattack, covering Ajax, the team's primary damage dealer.
On the east side of the fortress, Hektor attacked alone. His target was even more conspicuous: the Randan Psykers.
The strongest Astartes warrior found his first target within a single breath, pouncing on it like a hungry leopard. Only the dust churned by the whirlwind and a faint emerald glow were visible.
Two Xenos Psykers screamed simultaneously. The one further away unhesitatingly activated its psychic energy, joining its attacked comrade to form an incredibly powerful shield. The great green sword, wielding terrifying power, slashed down fiercely, yet only caused slight cracks in the invisible defense.
But Hektor showed no sign of distress. His figure did not pause for a single moment. Instead, he swiftly dodged the Xenos' torrential shrapnel and flashed to the other side of the Randan Psyker.
Both Randan Psykers scoffed at this petty trick, until the one fully concentrated on aiding its comrade suddenly felt as if it had forgotten something.
Then, a chilling breeze touched its neck.
A blade from the shadows gently caressed its life, then took it.
The effects of the psychic ability vanished the moment the caster died, leaving only one Psyker suffering from the backlash, its power uncontrollably dissipating. Before it could react, the longsword's emerald glow mercilessly swept across its eyes.
Both Psykers fell simultaneously. And at the exact moment they collapsed, Ajax's ammunition ran out. The Randan soldiers, having just recovered from the suppression, were met with another combined assault from the two Psykers.
This storm swept through the ruins occupied by the Randan Overlord, directly destroying the crumbling structure and abruptly halting the Overlord's command amidst the collapse.
Then, the six Astartes warriors unsheathed their blades. They faced dozens of Randan soldiers who had lost psychic and heavy firepower cover. Some of them had already been incapacitated.
A massacre without suspense began.
——————
"In essence, this is a three-pronged tactical approach."
"First, the stealth unit is responsible for infiltrating ahead. Its main purpose is to scout the enemy's exact situation or to destroy critical enemy locations as much as possible. Such operations cannot be undertaken alone; they must be coordinated with the main force's offensive."
"This step is often carried out by the shadows of the Fourth Legion, or the most elite Hunter Squads. They don't always achieve their objectives through simple assassination and stealth; often, high-mobility harassment operations can forcibly create weaknesses in the enemy."
"Second, amidst the chaos caused by the vanguard, heavy firepower or other strong forces will launch synchronized strikes against the enemy from multiple directions, acting as a hammer to smash through the weak points in the enemy's organization, tearing open gaps to ensure the main force's advance."
"When our Legion was still united, this was often achieved with massive drone firepower, or by deploying large numbers of Psykers. And in the former case, we would also deploy Armored Forces to support the drone operations."
"Concurrently, the stealth unit must continue its operations, destroying enemy support, command, or powerful units, hindering the enemy's further coordination and mutual reinforcement, breaking down their organizational structure, allowing us to segment the enemy into smaller portions as much as possible, creating asymmetric strikes."
"During the Legion era, there were more options for this coordination, such as large-scale airdrop operations or forced landings, or by using real-time intelligence from the front line to suppress enemy movements with massive long-range firepower."
"Finally, when the enemy's organizational system has been wounded by the two previous attacks, the main force will enter the battle. Based on prior intelligence, they will direct their initial spearhead towards the most threatening enemy units, or act as a decisive force to annihilate the segmented small enemy forces, consuming the enemy's effective strength in the shortest possible time."
"And if we encounter strong resistance at this stage, then large numbers of elite infantry and secret weapons, even Destructive Forces, will be committed to the battlefield, acting as the Legion's final failsafe."
"In summary, this set of tactics has many key points. Both real-time intelligence updates and high-frequency coordination between various factions are indispensable, and it also requires grasping the crucial element of speed: in many cases, our forces are too thin compared to the opponent, so ruthless decapitation strikes or rapid annihilation of large enemy forces are the essence of many of our tactics. We cannot afford a protracted war of attrition."
"So, remember these points:"
"Experienced squads, responsible for relaying real-time intelligence, and coordination born from exceptional battlefield intuition."
"Formidable assault troops, whether aerial firepower, Psykers, or those powerful weapons that cannot be named outright—we need a sharp enough blade to cut through the enemy's most vulnerable parts."
"Elite, swift, and resolute mobile infantry, capable of striking or segmenting our opponents quickly through airdrops or armored vehicles, creating localized numerical superiority, and inflicting maximum casualties on the enemy in the shortest possible time."
"Remember, do not prolong the fight, and do not covet any glory. Our core tactic is swift action, seamless coordination, and avoiding all unfavorable factors on the battlefield, allowing the battle to take place and conclude as much as possible in areas where we excel."
"Value intelligence, conduct covert sabotage, adapt to circumstances, strike weaknesses, play to your strengths, work closely together, attack like thunder, advance rapidly, divide and encircle,
exploit numerical superiority, bully the weak, accumulate small victories. And finally, remember to always be humble and rational. Never confront the enemy head-on in their area of expertise. Your goal is to kill them, not to defeat them."
"Remember, my child, there is no shame in fighting with numerical superiority, and no shame in avoiding difficulties. We have shed enough blood for so-called glory. Now, our battles are only for tangible gains, to ensure that the word 'sacrifice' is no longer a vague, self-serving sentiment."
"Remember, my Hektor."
"We are the Fangs."
"The Fangs move only for these drops of blood and flesh. Every strike."
"Must be fatal."
"After all, it is so sharp..."
"And fragile."
My tooth hurts today, not feeling well.
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