The pharmacist shouted the giant Deathwing Master while tearing off the chainsaw sword from the enemy's chest.
But Belia was not listening, and his focus was on the dismembered bodies of the three Chaos Space Marines he had just killed.
"We must retreat and meet with the battle group!"
Beria ignored the pharmacist and pushed herself back into the enemy.
He dodged a chainsaw axe that whizzed past, pushed an enemy warrior against the wall, smashed the opponent's skull between the rock concrete wall and the ceramic shoulder armor, then waved his Silence Sword, swung in a compact arc, and rushed into the surging red armor with cold rage.
The roaring chain blade flashed towards his neck, and he leaned back as much as possible, and the weapon's teeth sparkled as the weapon brushed through his throat.
Roaring, he fired bullets at the attacker's squinting helmet, causing the Chaos Space Marine's head to evaporate.
The headless body twitched back and disappeared into the oppression of the red armor.
"The gene seeds have been extracted, Master Belia! We must retreat!"
Finally, Belia struggled to hear the pharmacist's voice, his heart beating, and the sword was tearing apart another enemy.
"Understood."
He roared, blocking the enemy's chainsaw aside, exposing the attacker's neck, stabbing the sword tip into the Chaos Space Marine's trachea, then immediately retracting the blade and inserting it into the face of another dark god's minion.
"All members move in formation!"
Suddenly, Belia felt that the pressure of the enemy in front of her was reduced, so she made him take a step back and take a risky look at his rear.
He saw the technician standing in the middle of the corridor like a vengeful demon, his four arms of the servo harness spewed out of a series of laser cutters and plasma burners.
The technical sergeant wore gloves and held a gear-powered axe in his hand. After returning from Mars, the technical sergeant personally forged the weapon. The spark head of the axe was shaped like the gear of a huge machine, an exquisite and amazingly powerful weapon, which was filled with all the craftsmanship of the Mechanical Divine Cult.
The gear tomahawk rose and fell like the lever of the speedy shorthand chart, and the technical sergeant cut down the enemy with a cruel swing, making a crackling sound when hitting.
"Great mentor, retreat quickly!"
The technical sergeant shouted to Belia, who cut off another Chaos Space Marine with a gear axe and split the opponent in two from his shoulder to his hip bone.
"The enemy has strengthened its offensive! The Supreme Tutor needs you!"
"Mis."
Beria turned his head and could no longer see another Deathwing Terminator, but the other party's identity tag still shines.
He is still alive, at least for the time being.
"We can't keep him."
"The enemy will regroup soon."
Beria ignored the warnings of the tech sergeant, and another attacker's body showed where Mees should be on his retina display.
The Dead Wing's Great Master threw the enemy's body out until he saw the familiar Dead Wing Terminator's bone white helmet.
"I found him."
Punching the sword into the thigh of a rushing enemy, Belia grabbed Mis' arm armor and dragged him out from under a pile of corpses.
"Can you still lift him?"
The technical sergeant's question has no insult.
"Can!"
Beria grunted hard, and the two Terminators stepped forward, lifting the injured Meath's arms and legs.
The technical sergeant nodded, cut off one of the enemies' arms, and then beheaded the opponent.
Beria began to open the way for the team, and his anger was methodical, although the aggression was alleviated by the efficiency of the Terminator.
The technical sergeant envied his calmness, but sometimes the anger of the Dead Winged Master is no longer suppressed.
On that day, he would sympathize with Beria's enemies.
Although he was wearing a Terminator, Belia was no slower than a warrior wearing power armor. As he ran, many cultists were pressed under his ceramic boots.
The enemy's ribs were broken, bone fragments pierced into the internal organs, and his organs were flooded with blood.
Around him, the Deathwing Company slammed into the breakthrough with an orderly formation. The heavy firepower in their hands washed away the bodies of the surrounding enemy soldiers, and the air was filled with the rotten smell of burning meat.
But just when he thought it was only the Scarlet Slayer, more heretics in black armor poured into the battlefield from all directions and began to shoot wildly.
"It's the Black Legion!"
Seeing a large number of enemies, the Deathwing Master was shocked and then killed three enemies with a series of explosive bombs.
But even so, the enemies still look endless.
He realized that this attack might not be so easy to resist, and the Black Legion was likely to have directed its main force to the Dark Angels.
Belia's guess is indeed correct. After learning from the escaped Garmozejie that his chief wizard died, Abaddon decisively changed the plan and changed the main attack direction to an overly deep dark angel.
As long as the Dark Angels' most favorable offensive spearhead is severely damaged or even knocked out, it will be much easier for the Black Legion to continue to hold on or retreat.
For this reason, he even pulled out defensive forces from other directions, and once gathered more than two thousand Chaos Space Marines around the Dark Angel, which led to the scene that Belia saw-
A rare, Astat-style sea of people offensive.
Beria dialed the weapon to a fully automatic position and fired again, and a large number of cultists died, their bodies were blown to pieces by burst bullets.
However, they did not waver. Regardless of the losses they suffered, they slammed into the death wings like possessed people.
And their fallen master was behind them.
"die!"
A bladed arm guard hit Belia's shoulder guard, avoiding a thrust designed to dismantle him and stuffing the muzzle of the pistol into the attacker's torso.
As he pushed forward, limbs and pieces of flesh fell raindrops on his armor, splashing on his bone-white Terminator armor.
The sharp smell of blood was suffocating, and another sword hit him, blocking the downward strike with his Silence Sword, and then slamming the pistol into the face of another Chaos Space Marine.
The shot fell to the side of the cult skull, and Belia's pistol then opened fire at the endless black and red.
He could smell the subspace in them, and it soaked them, like a vicious wafting out of their pores.
Suddenly, a warning sign flashed on Beria's helmet monitor, and his ammunition had reached the last round.
The Dead Winged Master growled, then blew his head off a thin attacker, whose torso looked very different from his skinny legs.
Beria locked the pistol with magnetic force on his armor and stabbed his sword into the swelling neck of the nearest cultist.