Soon, all the Astartes began quickly distributing equipment according to their specialties.
Those skilled in melee combat and sword fighting donned Artificer Power Armor; those who considered themselves proficient in fire suppression and shooting put on Phobos Pattern Terminator Armor; and those severely mutilated, practically reduced to stumps, were dragged by their former battle-brothers and placed into the dreadnought Sarcophagi.
Once they were all fully equipped, Adam walked to the front of the formation, letting his longsword drop and plunging it fiercely into the ground.
In an instant, a torrent of violent golden flames surged up, enveloping all the Astartes.
The intense light and heat gradually incinerated the bodies inside the armor, turning flesh and blood into ash. Their souls escaped from the ravaged bodies and, in a manner resembling perfect integration, flawlessly adhered to the armor.
That's right, Adam's inspiration came from the Thousand Sons Legion's Rubric Marines.
Since their bodies were already ravaged by Chaos Sorcery and could easily be corrupted again even after being purified by The Emperor, it was better to simply strip away the flesh and attach the souls to the cold Power Armor, completely eliminating this hidden danger.
Moreover, under the influence of the Reality Warping Ability, every single injury and damage on them would be instantly repaired, essentially turning them into an undying Army of the Dead.
Incidentally, Adam also specifically drew a large portion of the Reality Intensity from the Caladbolg and bestowed it upon every individual in this brand new Astartes Company.
Although, on average, this Reality Intensity was not enough for them to become a Tier One Reality Warper, it served as a marker, and the souls of the targets they killed would also count toward Adam's kill count, to be devoured by the Reality Intensity.
"Done!"
This wave of Reality Warping consumed quite a bit of energy, and Adam let out a slight breath.
This was indeed a decent reinforcement for the squad's combat strength.
If they encountered enemies in endless numbers, even if the current squad could break through the encirclement, they would likely be heavily drained. Having these infantry units to help hold the line would certainly make things much easier.
Adam turned to the other three and said, "So, let's discuss the next objective. Naturally, we must try our best to support The Imperium's war efforts. Since acquiring Authority is difficult, I need to satisfy the requirement for soul quantity, so I must kill as many Enemies of the Imperium as possible."
All three nodded, indicating understanding.
After a brief discussion, everyone quickly reached a consensus:
Since the strike cruiser currently only has intra-System navigation capabilities, they would continue the objective that was previously thwarted by the sudden Chaos Warband attack.
In the Imperial World within this System, they would support the local Astra Militarum in suppressing the Orks.
Given the nature of the Orks, both in quantity and quality, they would likely provide Adam with decent reinforcements.
As for the issue of Friendly Fire Identification during the war, and whether rashly entering the battlefield would cause misunderstandings... Adam silently looked around.
One Imperial Guard Elite, one daemon Inquisitor, and one Living Saint.
How could we be the ones needing to prove our friendly status to others? Clearly, they should be the ones proving their friendly status to us!
With his resolution set, Adam's mind stirred.
The strike cruiser's machine spirit let out a joyous roar, and the Plasma Thrusters simultaneously spewed out long streams of flame, heading towards the only Imperial World in this System... Valos World.
On a vast, open plain.
Inside a Bomb Shelter shrouded in dim light, several Astra Militarum soldiers wearing Gas Masks and heavy uniforms hid quietly in the depths, feeling the constant tremors coming from the ground above.
That was the roar of continuous artillery fire bombarding the Fortifications.
"For the Emperor!"
"Commander Burke! What are we going to do?!"
A man who looked like the squad Commander in the team cursed, "I have fought for so many years and engaged the Orks countless times, but this is the first time they've shelled us into this miserable state!"
"Alright, Burke, just be content."
A one-eyed man with a face full of knife scars next to him said coldly. He held a Lasgun in his arms and was the squad's Sharpshooter. "If it weren't for Old Mad Dog's proper command, how would we have the chance to hide in this Bomb Shelter? We'd have been blown to smithereens by those Orks' shelling long ago."
"Fine, fine..."
Burke responded impatiently, "But when is this going to end? Those lads have heavier firepower than us, can't I even curse a little?"
Just as he finished speaking, the artillery fire outside suddenly ceased.
The surrounding Astra Militarum soldiers were all startled: "The shelling stopped!"
Burke listened carefully. A sharp whistle sounded from the position—that was the signal for them to immediately enter the Trenches and prepare for defensive combat.
As for why such an ancient method of communication was used... it was because all their Communication Equipment had basically failed after they started fighting these strange Orks.
The channels were either filled with static Electronic Interference or the maniacal laughter of Orks, making it impossible to transmit any effective orders.
The Emperor's lungs! This is truly unbelievable; the Orks actually know how to use Electronic Jamming!
"Quick! Everyone move!"
Everyone rushed out of the Bomb Shelter without hesitation, traversing the Communication Trench and entering the Fortifications.
Immediately after, they witnessed an unforgettable sight: a scene resembling the Scythe of Death was slowly unfolding in the center of the battlefield.
On the horizon, masses of Trukks and Ork Tanks rumbled forward, rolling across the ground with a slow, suffocating sense of oppression, appearing in view.
Various defensive facilities set up by the Astra Militarum in front of the position—such as Anti-Tank Mines, Dragon's Teeth, Barbed Wire, and so on—were easily crushed under their treads.
Even more shocking was that large numbers of Orks wearing Standard Military Uniforms maintained an Infantry-Tank Coordination discipline that even the Armageddon Steel Legion would envy. Using Armored Vehicles as cover, they engaged in alternating fire, unleashing ferocious Suppressing Fire onto the Astra Militarum lines without hesitation.
"By The Throne... are those really Orks?"
Someone couldn't help but gasp in shock.
"Open fire! Fire now!"
Burke roared, his hellgun spitting out scorching beams. This high-penetration firearm allowed the user to kill enemies at extreme range, with power potentially capable of piercing Astartes Ceramite Armor, but it seemed too weak against these vehicles. It could only kill some of the covering infantry.
Inside the Bunkers of the position, various Anti-Tank Weapons also began firing, and Direct-Fire Shells whistled out, accurately hitting the enemy's various vehicles.
One Trukk stopped, followed immediately by the next.
But even while sustaining astonishing casualties, the Orks continued to fill the gaps with surprising discipline, relentlessly grinding towards the front line in a manner that seemed to ignore losses.
"For The Emperor!"
No one knew who shouted the slogan first, but immediately after, shouts rose and fell across the position. The Astra Militarum soldiers, seeing red, gripped their weapons and kept firing, welcoming the impending bloody battle.
However, a sudden change occurred next.
The bright daylight was suddenly obscured by something, casting a large shadow that enveloped the entire battlefield.
The previously intense firing on the position involuntarily became sparse, and many Astra Militarum soldiers looked up in confusion.
Soon, their eyes lit up—it was the light of hope.
"It's an Imperial Vessel! We're saved!"