Chapter 700 07.699: “Decision”

The grenadiers in the assault team took the lead. They crouched, as agile as black panthers, and rushed towards the enemy.

The smoke bombs in their hands were thrown forward in an orderly manner, forming a row of smoke screens that blocked the vision and provided cover for subsequent actions.

Immediately afterwards, the engineers quickly approached the target.

The flamethrower carried a heavy canister filled with promethium on his back, bent over, and walked carefully among the corpses on the ground.

Their eyes, through the black lenses, were fixed on the firing holes that continued to emit faint flames in the smoke.

When the distance was close enough, the flamethrower decisively pressed the trigger.

With a “puff”, the flamethrower roared and stabbed the fiery red flames into the shooting hole of the bunker.

The scorching heat caused the surrounding air to distort and deform, as if the space was about to melt.

“Ah! It’s fire! It’s fire!” A miserable scream was heard from the bunker, and soon it became quiet.

The demolition engineers rushed forward without hesitation, stepping on the flaming ground without caring whether the flames were completely extinguished.

They were agile and quickly placed the melta bombs at the blasting position below the U-shaped firing holes, then turned around and found cover.

With a deafening roar, the entire position shook violently.

A gap was blown open in the bunker built with reinforced concrete and reinforced bars, leaving enough space for people to get in. Bricks, stones and dust fell like heavy rain.

Seeing the opportunity, the grenadiers immediately changed from a crawling position to an attacking posture.

They were holding light logging rifles with sawn-off muzzles that had been converted into “submachine guns,” and before rushing into the bunker, they fired wildly at the interior like tigers descending from the mountains.

Dense bullets poured in like a torrential rain, leaving no chance for the enemies inside to breathe.

Immediately afterwards, several grenades were thrown in, with the aim of completely destroying the enemy with the most intense firepower.

Before the smoke from the explosion had dissipated, they quickly climbed into the bunker through the gap, and a bloody and unknown underground attack and defense battle began.

But not all commando teams can carry out their missions so smoothly.

Many people fell during the charge, their flesh and blood bodies seemed so fragile in the hail of bullets, and the blood of the victims flowed out, dyeing the earth dark red.

In order to ensure the success rate of the mission, the Kriegs would deliberately arrange some assault teams to act as bait to attract enemy firepower.

The team that actually launches the assault will find the right moment and seize the opportunity to break through the enemy’s defenses like lightning.

Even though the enemy was killing crazily, there was still a steady stream of people forming new assault teams. They continued to advance one after another, like a never-ending torrent, constantly pouring towards the enemy’s positions.

Boom!boom!

After the dense gunfire in the bunker, there was a brief calm. The air was filled with tension and depression, like the dead silence before a storm.

The enemy in the logistics trench opened the heavy bunker door and prepared to send reinforcements inside.

They walked in a hurry and looked panicked, obviously caught off guard by the previous battle.

However, as soon as they opened the door, they ran into the Kriegs who were moving forward in silence on the stairwell.

“It’s the false emperor’s running dog!” a rebel soldier shouted in horror.

Both sides raised their guns almost at the same time.

The flashes of automatic guns and laser rifles flickered in the dim stairwell, and then there was the sound of bodies tumbling down the stairs, some of them Kriegs, some of them Chaos rebels.

The grenade was thrown upwards from below, drawing an arc in the air, and hit the steel gate heavily and exploded.

The flying shrapnel scratched deep grooves on the wall, brick and stone debris flew everywhere, and the entire staircase was instantly filled with smoke. “There are puppet emperors in the bunker!” The rebels’ shouts echoed in the passage.

Gunfire crisscrossed, flames rose, and the two sides engaged in a fierce shooting battle in the narrow stairwell.

Bullets bounced back and forth in this cramped space, lasers hit the wall, leaving tiny marks, and the pungent smell of gunpowder filled the air.

But this stalemate did not last long.

The Kriegs knew that they had to break through this narrow staircase as quickly as possible regardless of casualties, because they knew that the subsequent battle would be more difficult and would not be easily broken through.

As the saying goes, when two brave men meet in a narrow road, the brave one wins. As long as one side is not afraid of death and forces hand-to-hand combat, this situation will soon be broken.

As a smoke bomb hit the steel gate and slowly rolled down, smoke quickly filled the spiral staircase, instantly obscuring the view.

When the rebels fired through the door again, in addition to the sound of two bodies rolling down after being hit by bullets, the next sound was the sound of the engineers’ shovels breaking the wind.

puff!
The shovel came down with tremendous force, piercing the head of the sturdy man who was firing a lumberjack gun at the people below.

Blood splattered everywhere, and two eyeballs were squeezed forcefully until they exploded and rolled out of their sockets. The scene was bloody and horrifying.

Smoke poured out from the cracks in the gate, and the crowded Kriegs scrambled to rush out from inside.

They were like evil spirits crawling out of the abyss of hell, emitting hatred and hostility. Their swift attack caught the enemy soldiers, who were hastily communicating and organizing a counterattack, off guard.

In order to avoid bayonets from hurting people or getting stuck during rapid marches, soldiers trained in the Astra Militarum drill manual would habitually carry their guns on their backs until they were close to the combat position.

This group of rebels was no exception. After all, they could not find any army military drill manual other than the Star Army Drill Manual.

The rebels with guns on their backs had no time to react when faced with a group of Kriegs rushing out of the smoke-filled bunker passage waving bloody engineering shovels. The time it took them to get the guns from their backs was too long.

The logistics trench instantly fell into chaos, and bloody and brutal meat-mincing battles could be seen everywhere in the logistics trench filled with screams.

The flamethrower took advantage of the chaos to rush out of the passage, and the black lenses reflected the fanatical light from the flamethrower muzzle.

They decisively pulled the trigger with their rubber-gloved hands, and hot flames gushed out instantly. Thick smoke rose rapidly, filling the entire logistics trench, completely purifying the “stains” on the land.

The grenadier sergeant with 1313 embroidered on his collar walked down the stairs and rushed into the enemy’s storage point for captured supplies and equipment.

He looked anxious, his eyes quickly scanning the surroundings, his hands constantly rummaging through the valuable materials that had been seized, turning the place into a mess.

But after searching for a while, still nothing was found.

He was looking for the lost flag of the 1313th Infantry Regiment, which was their glory and their life.

Finally, his eyes fell on a large box.

The box was reinforced with metal, locked, and tightly bound with complex chains.

The grenadier took a big step forward and raised his engineer shovel high in the air with both hands.

click!
The shovel blade was as sharp as an axe blade, chopping heavily on the iron chain.

A huge noise echoed all around, and the iron chain made a sharp metallic wail and broke immediately.

When the grenadier sergeant was about to open the box, two burly men wearing heavy armor and gas masks made of human skin suddenly rushed in from behind.

The spiked armor silently exudes threat, and tattoos of blasphemous marks pollute the dull air.

The grenadier sergeant turned slowly, his coat emitting the deadly, icy smell of chlorine and phosgene.

Almost instantly, the engineer shovel with a polished handle was already in his hand, ready for use.

(End of this chapter)