The two squads of warriors did not wait long in the fog-shrouded position.
Soon, a new order was relayed through the company's communication network to every fire team: General transfer, move to the new position.
Reinhard and Valker, leading the squads of Helldivers under their respective commands, immediately began packing up their gear, ready to relocate.
Behind this sudden order was a silent "storm" that had brewed in the company headquarters.
Just a few hours earlier, a Tactical Officer from an Ultramarines Chapter of Space Marines had arrived at the headquarters of this Helldiver company.
Following the orders of Calgar, a large number of Space Marines were being assigned to mortal armies, serving as military advisors or direct commanders based on the Astartes' own wishes, and this particular officer was the Astartes assigned to lead this company.
The moment he entered the command tent, he immediately demanded to see the current defensive deployment map.
When the Helldiver Company Captain—a young man who looked enthusiastic but completely lacked any military bearing—handed him the data-slate, the officer took one look and was stunned on the spot.
His optical system repeatedly scanned the deployment map, trying to find some profound tactical meaning in the simple-to-the-point-of-stupid lines, but he failed.
This couldn't even be called a "deployment."
The Captain had arbitrarily drawn a perfect arc on the map, and then, as if playing some ancient tabletop wargame, had uniformly and aimlessly distributed all the fire teams under his command, like chess pieces, along the entire arc.
It must be noted that the tactical competence within the Helldivers Legion varied wildly.
Many unit commanders were indeed professional officers from various nations, with some entire units being composed of real-life military personnel from top to bottom. But many were not.
After all, for many, this was just an immersive game, and the entire squad might be composed of real-life family and friends. You couldn't just forcibly insert a stranger to ruin their team dynamic.
This particular company clearly belonged to the latter group.
Their Captain's greatest understanding of military strategy probably came from playing Real-Time Strategy or Grand Strategy games, where he would mass all his troops at the border with the enemy and then all-out attack. Seeing this, you can surely understand why he drew such a deployment map.
As for why this suicidal deployment had managed to hold back the Tyranids so far—the reason was simple: the Helldivers were indeed like the wargames he played; they never retreated until every last man was dead, physically filling in a steel defense line with their lives.
However, now the Ultramarine had arrived. This ridiculous deployment could absolutely not continue.
Setting everything else aside, the mental shock inflicted on this officer just by having to look at a deployment map that challenged every tenet of the Codex Astartes every morning was probably more powerful than an atomic bomb.
Fortunately, although the Helldiver Captain's deployment was arbitrary, he had still diligently scouted the nearby terrain and drawn a military map with almost no errors, following a "Newbie Battlefield Guide" strategy from the official forums.
After all, if he hadn't conducted the terrain survey, he probably couldn't have even drawn that arc.
The Space Marine officer took the detailed military map and personally visited the key locations for on-site reconnaissance. After confirming the map's accuracy, he immediately selected a new position for the entire company.
It was a crescent-shaped hill, with an average elevation of about 30 to 60 meters higher than the current position.
While not a high mountain, in a battlefield context, this height was enough to establish the absolute strategic advantage of "high ground over low ground, the superior position."
Furthermore, this hill was strategically crucial. Its south side, facing the direction of the Tyranids, was a former wetland.
Before the Helldivers destroyed the ecosystem of Planet Plantium, this area was filled with crisscrossing streams and muddy swamps.
Even now, with the ecosystem collapsed and the ground dried up, the area was still heavily pockmarked, full of natural ravines that could delay the enemy's charge.
Once past this hill, the terrain extending to the north was the vast, former farmland of Plantium. That area was flat and open, with no natural defensive features whatsoever.
The thought of the Helldivers holding the endless Tyranid hordes pinned down in such a flat, open area with their sheer flesh and blood for so long forced the Ultramarine officer, even accustomed as he was to courage and glory, to admit that it was an inexplicable miracle in itself.
The company headquarters was set up in a temporary prefabricated bunker on the reverse slope of the hill. When Reinhard and Valker walked in, they were immediately captivated by the scene before them.
The small command post was packed with people. Over a dozen mortal officers and soldiers in Helldiver uniforms were intermingled with more than a dozen Astartes wearing different Chapter colors, all gathered around a table glowing with the light of a tactical map.
A peculiar feeling surged within Reinhard as he looked at this sight.
This was unimaginable in the past.
Perhaps they were truly making history. Since the start of the Chapter Era, misunderstandings between Space Marines were commonplace, let alone with mortals. They had never been connected to mortals so intimately.
Except for a few special Chapters or individuals, the divide between the two sides was almost an invisible yet indestructible high wall.
The Emperor's Angels were myths, legends, guardians who looked down upon the masses, while mortals were the common folk who needed to be protected and guided, but could never touch the Angels' domain.
And yet, this high wall had been forcefully breached by these fearless Helldivers with their blood and flesh.
They bore the main brunt of the Tyranid swarm in combat, building the first, and most substantial, dam against the alien tide with their mortal bodies.
No matter how arrogant a Space Marine might be, it was difficult to give a cold shoulder to a group of mortals who charged forward continuously, using their lives to buy even a single second of tactical advantage.
Reinhard and Valker walked in. Those in the circle simply nodded at them, and they returned the nod. On the battlefield, efficiency superseded all formality.
The Ultramarine officer presiding over the meeting, with his helmet set aside, revealed a rigid and resolute face.
Seeing the two enter, he cut straight to the point: "We are discussing how to deal with the Tyranid spore mist.
Countering it with poison gas is ultimately just a temporary measure, and there will be a time lag in receiving artillery support from the rear.
Although this delay is short, we cannot guarantee that this short time difference won't make the situation in a certain sector irreversible."
Clearly, this officer was a typical Ultramarine: rigorous, practical, and striving to bring every variable of the battle under control.
He wanted to make detailed plans for every possible development on the battlefield, compensate for all theoretically possible omissions, and prepare corresponding contingency measures for every emergency.
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Who would win - a 100 Helldivers or a Gorillaman?