The voice continued over the regional channel:
"Spotted through binoculars... it's a mutant beast swarm! About fifty of them, charging straight for us!"
"They're moving fast! Estimated contact in three minutes!"
Zeke's pupils contracted.
"Everyone, prepare for combat!"
He immediately turned around and issued orders to [Passing By Guilliman] beside him:
"Take ten people and hold the rear of the procession. Make sure no one falls behind, and guard against attacks from other directions."
"The rest of you, up to the front with me!"
"Flank defense teams hold your positions! Maintain vigilance!"
The orders were rapidly transmitted through the regional channel.
The players' reactions were faster than Zeke had anticipated—perhaps due to having experienced life-and-death situations in the industrial zone.
Or perhaps the training over the past few days had paid off. Almost the instant the order was given, the thirty-plus players at the front sprang into action.
Aska led the workers backward, squeezing behind the makeshift barricade formed by the transport vehicles.
The players began pulling sandbags out of their inventories. These were the "Rapid Deployment Fortification Kits" bought from the store—ten coins per kit, containing six pre-filled sandbags.
Though cheap, they could save lives in a moment like this.
Over thirty sandbags were piled into a waist-high low wall within twenty seconds.
The players crouched behind the wall, drawing their weapons from their inventories.
By the time Zeke reached the front line, combat preparations were complete.
He swept a glance over the line. There were forty-three players in total. Twenty of them held various las-weapons—laspistols, lasguns, and even two heavy stubbers modified into auto-shotguns.
The remaining players used cheaper kinetic weapons: black powder rifles.
Their equipment was a mixed bag, but at this moment, no one showed any fear.
They were all caught in the excitement of finally being able to "grind mobs."
"Are the mines set?" Zeke asked.
"Set!" shouted a Crimson Machina player named [Transcendent Mechanic]. "I scattered sixteen proximity mines fifty meters out! They're not super powerful, but they'll at least slow them down!"
"Grenades?"
"Everyone has at least two frag grenades, some even have incendiaries."
Zeke nodded. He raised the laspistol in his left hand and drew a longsword from his back with his right.
It wasn't a Space Marine chainsword—those were too expensive; he couldn't afford one yet.
This was the most basic "Astra Militarum Standard Melee Sword" from the store. It cost 45 Imperial Coins. The blade was forged with mono-molecular edging and sheathed in a kinetic field. Though rudimentary, it was enough to hack up mutant beasts.
He looked forward.
Under the moonlight, the silhouettes of the beast swarm were already clear.
They were a mutant species native to Aurelian IV. Their official scientific name was "Redblaze Hyaenodon," but the workers called them "Razor-Dogs."
They looked like hyenas magnified three times in size, but with bone plates growing along their backs. Their mouths were filled with interlocking serrated teeth, and their forelimbs had evolved sharp bone blades capable of easily tearing through light armor.
Preliminary combat assessment: A single Razor-Dog was roughly equivalent to an untrained, ordinary Astra Militarum guardsman.
"Target confirmed. Razor-Dog swarm, quantity fifty-four."
Fifty-four of them charging together was enough to tear through the defensive lines of two platoons.
Blood Angel had his eyes closed, his psychic perception fully extended. "The one leading... is larger. It has glowing crystals on its back. It might be a psychic mutant."
"Psychic mutant?" Zeke frowned.
"In the Warhammer universe, anything is possible," Blood Angel opened his eyes. "Be careful. That thing might breathe fire or shoot shockwaves."
The beast swarm entered the five-hundred-meter range.
The players held their breath.
Four hundred meters.
Three hundred meters.
"OPEN FIRE!"
Zeke ordered.
Laser beams tore through the night sky.
The first volley focused on the leading psychic mutant.
Seven or eight las-beams struck it simultaneously, sparking against the crystal plates on its back.
The beast roared in pain, letting out a shrill shriek, but its speed actually increased.
"Fuck, it didn't penetrate!" someone cursed.
The swarm breached the two-hundred-meter line.
"Minefield, detonate!"
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
A continuous string of explosions lit up the area ahead.
The proximity mines weren't very powerful—each roughly equivalent to two hand grenades—but eighteen of them detonating simultaneously still flipped over seven or eight Razor-Dogs.
Severed limbs and blood splashed under the moonlight.
But the remaining forty-plus beasts didn't pause for a second, trampling over the corpses of their kin as they continued the charge.
One hundred meters.
"GRENADES, THROW!"
Over forty frag grenades arced through the air, landing amidst the swarm.
The flashes of explosions merged into a sea of light, shrapnel flying in every direction.
Another dozen Razor-Dogs fell, but the survivors had already breached the fifty-meter line.
"PREPARE FOR MELEE!"
Zeke vaulted over the sandbag wall, the first to charge forward to meet them.
His Type II enhancement was fully displayed in this moment.
Pushing off the ground, his body launched forward like a cannonball, his speed vastly exceeding the ordinary players.
His left hand fired continuous bursts from the laspistol. Three beams accurately struck a Razor-Dog in the head, blowing its skull clean off.
His right hand swept the longsword in a horizontal slash.
The kinetic field activated, the blade humming as it cut through the air.
A Razor-Dog lunging from the flank was cut in half at the waist, its internal organs spilling all over the ground.
The other players charged up as well.
The muscular bros of Crimson Strike were the most conspicuous. They charged at the very front, wielding "Modified Sapper Shovels" redeemed from the store.
They were essentially just thickened, weighted iron shovels, but backed by the strength of the Type I enhancement, a single swing could smash a Razor-Dog's head into its chest cavity.
"IN THE NAME OF THE CRIMSON DAWN!"
The muscular bros roared. They excelled at fighting with numerical superiority, pooling their strength to smash one beast, then turning to gang up on the next!
The players of Crimson Wind skirmished on the flanks.
They didn't fight head-on. Instead, they used their speed advantage to continuously fire harassing shots. When the Razor-Dogs turned to chase them, the players behind them would focus fire.
"Kite them! Do you know how to kite?!"
[800K vs 600K, The Advantage is Mine] yelled in the channel while running. "Don't just stand there trading blows! We're not Space Marines! If you keep this up, I'm going to start micromanaging you!"
Blood Angel didn't go to the front lines.
Standing behind the sandbag wall, his eyes glowing faintly with psychic light, he was using the most basic psychic techniques to anticipate trajectories and provide early warnings for the frontline players.
"Three on the left! Pouncing on [Have You Been Loyal Today?] in five seconds!"
"The big one on the right flank is about to spit! Dodge!"
His warnings saved several players.
A Razor-Dog opened its mouth and spat a glob of corrosive mucus. The warned player rolled away just in time. The mucus hit the ground, hissing as it burned and released white smoke.
The battle entered a fever pitch.
Although the players had undergone enhancements and training, they weren't professional soldiers; mistakes were inevitable.
Someone's arm was slashed by a Razor-Dog's bone blade, and he dropped to his knees in pain. A 30% pain reduction didn't mean it didn't hurt.
But no one retreated.
Being able to respawn was their greatest source of confidence.
Even though their enhancements would disappear upon death, even though reviving cost 5 Imperial Coins, and even though the interest rate on the system's loan was absurdly high—at least... they would live.
Zeke wove through the beast swarm.
His combat skills were learned from the "Basic Melee Combat Manual" he bought from the store a few days ago. It cost 10 Imperial Coins, and its contents were crude.
But it at least taught him how to exert force and how to dodge.
Coupled with the physical attributes of his Type II enhancement, he alone was tying down three Razor-Dogs.
His laspistol's energy cell ran dry.
He casually tossed it aside and gripped his sword with both hands.
A Razor-Dog lunged at him head-on. He sidestepped, thrusting his sword into its neck backhanded, then twisted his wrist, shredding its spine.
Another tried to sneak attack him from behind. As if he had eyes in the back of his head, he ducked low and swept its legs. The moment the beast lost its balance, he slashed upward with his blade, disemboweling it.
But precisely because his combat prowess was greater than the other players, the psychic mutant locked onto him.
The beast was a full size larger than its kin, the crystal plates on its back radiating an eerie purple light.
It didn't charge in directly. Instead, it stood twenty meters away and opened its jaws.
A beam of purple energy surged forth.
"BOSS, WATCH OUT!" Blood Angel screamed from the rear.
--
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