"C-Commander," Joshua stammered, facing the aggression of the cave natives.
But Zack did not flinch in the slightest. The veteran's expression remained solemn in the face of the berserkers' rampage.
He immediately activated the communicator in his helmet to issue new orders in response to the unknown threat.
"Regiments 4 and 5, I want you to use a crescent moon–style tactic, and Regiment 3 to fall back while maintaining formation," he ordered, then glanced toward Joshua.
Zack's right-hand man was clearly uncomfortable with the terrain, but the veteran did not care.
He needed an intelligent man on the field.
Zack could not leave everything to that idiot Dede, since the former hive-city bandit only excelled in combat.
When it came to strategy?
He was limited.
"Johnson! Go to Regiment 2, tell them to use the tanks to support Regiment 3, which has infiltrated the side of the cave. You must cover their withdrawal!" he ordered in a commanding voice.
Joshua grew angry at his superior for twisting his name, but he chose to swallow his resentment for now.
Even if his superior annoyed him, the young man had no time for such childishness.
Strangely, Joshua's anger allowed him to forget his nervousness at the idea of being on a battlefield far from his comfortable office.
Zack nodded in satisfaction at his subordinate on the move, then turned his attention back to the battlefield.
Zack's mind was neither that of a superhuman like the Astartes, nor that of an ordinary genius.
However, the veteran possessed something precious, rare in such a remote world:
Experience in large-scale warfare.
"Yes… fall back in an orderly manner… those bastards will soon be encircled once they lose their terrain advantage," he muttered, tightening his chainsword.
The cave prevented Zack from unleashing the full firepower of his massive arsenal, but that was not all.
The confined space of the underground cavity also prevented him from using his forces optimally, which was why he intended to use tanks to block the cave entrance and pull Regiment 3 out from underground.
Once the natives were blinded by their so-called "advantage," Zack intended to rain down fire upon them, embodying the rage of the auxiliary army.
…
"Grr… s-skull…" groaned the native as his blade collided with the chainsword.
Unconsciously, Dede grimaced slightly in pain.
The strength of the man before him was not "normal," but the former hive-city delinquent bared his yellow teeth in a threatening grin.
There was no trace of fear in Dede.
The former gang leader wanted to carve into the enraged face before him the same despair he used to see in his old victims.
Dede's behavior was astonishing for an outside observer, especially considering the massive size difference between him and the native.
Yet the regiment leader did not care.
On the contrary, he unleashed chainsword strikes almost as aggressively as the native, who was under the influence of Khorne.
Perhaps because Dede was of a similar kind to him, the native leader fell into an even greater frenzy than at the start of their clash.
Dede's disgusting smile caused neither fear nor hesitation in the native; the barbarian wanted only one thing:
The skull of this warrior!
"Grr… y-your skull!!! M-my god wants it—" he roared, but the bulky man did not finish his sentence.
Dede spat in his eyes.
The regiment leader no longer had time for an honorable duel.
His men were dying all around him.
"Sorry, mate, but I'm a gutter rat," he said in a half-mocking tone.
The native was confused by the sudden contemptuous attack, but still launched a blind strike in hopes of hitting the "ruthless" warrior.
But Dede expected it.
He dodged the blade with ease, then rolled across the ground to avoid a blind charge from the berserker.
"I don't know what drugs you're on, but—" Dede raised his bolter toward the exposed back of his target after it missed its charge.
"Suck my balls," he said, firing a bolt round into the back of its skull.
The leader of the native wave collapsed, but another native replaced him almost immediately.
There was no centralized hierarchy.
Dede had miscalculated by risking his life against the native leader to minimize losses.
"Damn, feels like I'm fighting that Macedonian madman again," he thought, recalling the war against the last free city during the planetary conquest.
Dede flashed another grin at the new barbarian, but his momentum was slightly distracted by good news.
[ R-retreat, execute an orderly withdrawal ]
"Sorry, my dear," he said in the most commonly used dialect on Limnos III.
Dede's words caught the barbarian off guard, but the man paid him no attention.
He casually threw a grenade at him.
— Boom!
An explosion shook the cave.
"Chief, didn't you say we should avoid explosives because of the terrain?" a soldier pointed out, but Dede interrupted him with a stern look.
"Change of plans, boys, we're pulling back fume," he said, lighting a cigar and exhaling smoke.
Even though he had originally planned to fight to a possible death, Zack had ordered a retreat.
Who was he to refuse such a pleasant order in this desperate situation?
He slightly curled his upper lip as he watched the withdrawal order spread through the cave.
"Affirmative, we are initiating a retreat," he said, responding to his commander through the communicator.
Dede raised his right hand; it held neither his chainsword nor his bolter.
It held a flare gun.
"Guys, stay in formation and don't waste your ammo. These guys are annoying, but I suspect it's more effective to deal with them in close combat," he said, sharing his experience.
Indeed, the cave warriors had a supernatural resistance to firearms like the bolter.
The only exception was at point-blank range.
"Khorne, huh… is it related to that?" Dede thought as he organized the withdrawal.
Unfortunately, Dede would never be granted access to classified information about these types of enemies.
Much like the Imperium, knowledge of the Warp would be strictly regulated under the rule of Atreus.
This policy also included the blessing of Khorne and his subordinates, which would leave Atreus's troops less prepared for their confrontation.
An inevitable situation.