Communication ended, and the order was immediately relayed to every Helldivers. The players scrambled to find the sturdiest cover, curling up their bodies, awaiting the iron rain of human wrath.
Five minutes felt exceptionally long in the silent wait.
Just as the countdown ended, a dull roar, like a giant train passing over tracks in the distance, quickly filled the entire sky, growing from far to near.
The next second, the shells from the Petrified Lizard self-propelled artillery rained down from above.
Boom—!
The first shell landed, as if sounding the prelude to this symphony of destruction. Immediately after, dozens of high-explosive shells, like dense hail, slammed into the marked ruins.
Boom! Rumble—!
The earth trembled violently, as if an invisible giant hand was fiercely shaking the entire crust. Intense vibrations emanated from deep underground, causing even the Helldivers, lying prostrate in the distance, to feel a surge of fear.
Some experienced veterans even immediately got up from the ground, standing firm with slightly bent knees, because they knew that under this level of seismic shaking, if they continued to lie down, their internal organs could very likely be severely damaged by the violent shockwaves from the ground, necessitating another revival.
The explosions merged into a single blaze, illuminating the urban area as if it were daytime. Massive concrete buildings were easily torn apart like biscuits in the explosions, their steel skeletons twisted into pretzels, then thrown into the sky by subsequent blasts.
Only one sound remained in the entire world—the deafening, continuous roar of exploding shells. In the face of such a roar, all life seemed so insignificant.
When the roar of the last shell dissipated into the air, the players decisively leaped out from behind cover again, charging without hesitation towards the area that had just been bathed in hellfire. They were eager to personally confirm the glorious results of this bombardment.
Theoretically, no carbon-based life form could survive a direct hit from such devastating artillery fire. The temperature in that area was high enough to melt steel, the air was filled with acrid gunpowder smoke and a burnt smell, and the ground was covered with a thick layer of scorching ash.
But in reality, as the Helldivers stepped into these extremely hot ruins, they were still met with cold and precise attacks from the shadows.
"Damn it!" a Platoon Leader, observing through binoculars, cursed. He looked in disbelief at the few figures that flashed through the broken walls and rubble in his scope. "How are these goddamn Kroot still alive?!"
"Maybe… maybe they anticipated the danger before the bombardment and retreated early, then returned to their positions immediately after the shelling ended?" Someone speculated in the channel.
"It's not impossible," another player immediately agreed. "God knows what kind of things are fused into the Kroot's genes. It's quite normal for them to anticipate danger like wild beasts."
"Children, I'm back!" Just as everyone was at a loss, a familiar voice suddenly appeared in the communication channel. "Did you miss me?"
Everyone looked around and quickly saw the Company Commander crouching, rapidly approaching their position from the rear. The Platoon Leader saw him as if he had seen a savior: "Company Commander, you're finally back! I'll charge forward with my platoon now. Once we tie down these Kroot, you immediately call for artillery fire and blow us and these Kroot to kingdom come!"
"Don't rush," the Company Commander waved his hand, signaling him to calm down. "First, tell me what the situation is now. I just revived and don't know anything."
After a jumbled explanation from the various Platoon Leaders, the Company Commander quickly understood the predicament the 7th Company was currently facing: pure artillery bombardment could not effectively kill the enemy, and a simple infantry assault would result in heavy casualties due to the enemy's superb marksmanship and flexible tactics.
"Why use such an extreme method as 'mutual destruction'? Even if we did, we'd be reset in a short time," the Company Commander said after listening, looking at them strangely. "Why don't you just strap yourselves with gas canisters and charge?"
At these words, everyone present was stunned.
That's right! No matter how well the Kroot could hide or anticipate danger, they couldn't evade the pervasive, deadly gas, could they?
The tactic instantly became clear. So, under the wary gaze of the Kroot, those strange humans once again collectively leaped out from behind cover, forming a loose formation, and began to steadily advance. Only this time, every few steps they took, they would unhook a tin canister from their waist or back and throw it with all their might into the ruins ahead.
Amidst clanging sounds, numerous tin cans tumbled and collided among the rubble. Then, dense, dark green gas continuously emerged from the ruptured canisters, spreading rapidly like a living fog, gradually covering the entire ruined area.
Even before entering the core coverage area of these dark green gases, the Kroot in the distance felt intense discomfort. Their mucous membranes were severely irritated, tears and snot flowed, and their vision and sense of smell were greatly affected. Their sight was blurry, and their nasal passages were filled with a burning, stinging pain.
The Helldivers had specifically chosen this type of highly corrosive, highly irritating, and distinctively colored poisonous gas. The purpose of doing so was to maximally weaken the enemy's sensory abilities. In fact, those of them in the most concentrated areas of the gas were affected far more than the Kroot. Even their sturdy carapaces emitted a "sizzling" sound under the erosion of the gas, gradually being corroded through, and the gas began to directly burn their flesh.
But what did that matter? As long as it wasn't an instant death, the Helldivers could continue to advance!
The Kroot were neither cowards nor faint-hearted. Even in such harsh conditions, they still chose to steadfastly fight the Helldivers. The T'au had rescued their race from the brutal ork, and now was their time to repay The Greater Good!
Both sides roared and fought in the swirling dark green gas, chainswords clashing with sharp claws, autoguns and pulse carbines roaring at close range, flesh and blood flying. Finally, after several hours of fierce fighting, the Kroot garrisoned there were forced to retreat due to heavy casualties. Even the bravest hunter would feel dizzy and weak after fighting continuously for an hour in such a highly toxic environment, while their opponents seemed tireless, always surging vigorously from the depths of the poisonous fog.
The "gas canister charge" tactic, created by the 7th Company, was quickly popularized throughout the Helldivers Legion due to its simplicity, brutality, and extreme effectiveness. Players in other areas were pleasantly surprised to discover that the Kroot, who had given them so much trouble and seemed impossible to defeat, actually had such a simple solution!
For a time, the clanging sound of thrown tin cans replaced the roar of gunfire, echoing across the entire right flank. One-third of the city of Guelbryn was engulfed in an eerie green mist.
The Kroot, who preferred primitive attire and lacked effective protection, suffered a tremendous loss under this new tactic, and their casualty numbers began to show terrifying exponential growth.
An unprecedented fear began to spread among the Kroot. They simply could not understand how these humans could move freely in this green poisonous mist that could even corrode steel. This illogical fighting style even made them associate it with the terrifying entities in the warp that worship decay and plague, as described in legends. They began to view these Helldivers as non-human beings disguised in human skin.
Regardless of the ultimate victory or defeat of this war, the figures of the Helldivers, looming in and out of the green poisonous mist, would forever be etched into the depths of the Kroot's genes as an indelible nightmare.