Facing the woman who was kneeling on the ground and crying with her baby in her arms, Political Commissar Millard raised his pistol indifferently and shot the traitor and the bastard in her arms at the same time. Then he turned around and walked towards the next one, leaving ten people behind him.
Several corpses.
There is no point in taking prisoners. The order from superiors is to kill without mercy.
"Imperial dog! Your false emperor will also curse you!"
The man with his hands broken was leaning against the wall, spitting blood angrily, and Millard shot the man directly through the head.
Heretics are only mad, and their destination is death.
Kindness means betrayal.
After executing the last prisoner, the political commissar turned around and walked to a collapsed stone tablet. He stepped on it and wiped the blood and stains on his boots with a cloth to make sure they were still shiny.
Come to the officer.
"Now that the traitors have retreated to their evil and depraved churches and crypts, let the soldiers intensify their efforts and the flamethrowers muster up. We need a great burning to cleanse this filthy place."
"The political commissar and the soldiers have been fighting for three hours and are very tired. Anyway, the traitors have no way to escape."
Facing this officer's excuse, the political commissar rolled his eyes. He knew what the other party was up to. The soldiers were going from house to house looking for anything of value. They had shed blood, and naturally they didn't want to come in vain. Even if there was only one person in this bottom nest,
Poverty and degradation.
The legions recruited from the Maelstrom are like this. From officers to soldiers, they lack iron discipline and will, so the role of the supervisor is very crucial.
The political commissar's only answer to this was to put his hand on the handle of the bolt pistol at his waist and cast a "give you a chance to reorganize your language" look at the officer. The officer immediately turned around and greeted the people around him.
"Brothers, let's attack quickly! Don't scrape it! The ground has been scraped off! Bring the flamethrower team over here and burn it! Burn everything!"
Under the scolding of the officers, the soldiers had to give up other "work" to concentrate on the attack. Soon more intense gun battles broke out in the streets, and they encountered stubborn resistance from the infidels every step of the way.
Some traitors seemed to be so caught up in some kind of religious fanaticism that they had no regard for their own lives. They were foaming at the mouth, rolling their eyes, and twitching their fingers convulsively on the trigger. These were once inviolable loyalties to the human empire.
Citizens, now reduced to despicable traitors, are making their last desperate stand.
The streets are burning, embers are floating in the night sky, laser guns are crackling like the sound of thousands of dry branches snapping, and high-pitched and terrifying screams are echoing in the ruins. Some traitors are hiding in what they think is safe.
In the home, the soldiers immediately locked the doors and windows, and then used flamethrowers to set fire to the house from the outside. They watched as the people inside fled like rats in a red-hot tin can and beat the doors and windows desperately.
Just as the flames gradually began to engulf this garbage-heap-like town, a certain chanting sound echoed in the wind, getting louder and more harsh.
Political Commissar Millard also felt that the air had become heavy, and even a communications soldier on his right began to groan, and the communications device behind him also vibrated.
Suddenly, a soldier appeared out of nowhere and almost jumped on him. The political commissar took a step back, kicked the soldier down, and then pulled out his pistol.
"What are you doing! Are you crazy!"
But the other party just rolled on the ground, his eyes tightly squinted, his mouth wide open, and dirty and unfamiliar words kept coming out of his mouth.
The commissar immediately pressed his bolt pistol to the man's temple.
"shut up……"
He roared, his voice carrying a savage world accent.
But the soldier stumbled to his feet, a smile spreading across his face, sickly and manic, and he grunted and coughed and spat on the grass, his saliva hissing like acid as it hit the ground,
The smile on his face even grew bigger and bigger until it engulfed his entire cheek.
Before he started screaming, he kept repeating one sentence on his lips.
"Revenge has arrived."
The political commissar stared at this man in horror. The big man's skin fell off like a python shedding its skin, leaving behind a layer of dry, wrinkled dead skin. Only what was underneath the skin gave off an evil halo under the firelight.
The political commissar felt that he should do something and raised his pistol with trembling hands. He did not know that they had already stepped into a huge witchcraft trap.
As the chanting went away, sickly yellow and blood-red mist rose from the ground, black clouds roared past his head, and the soldier's dark eyes reflected the storm, which was a darkness of fear, malice and unknown.
Then the soldiers around him fell in pieces, collapsing to the ground, their bodies twisting, and madness flashing in their eyes. Some prayed to their comrades for the emperor's mercy, while others twisted into new shapes with grunts and gurglings.
, the soldiers began to shoot at their comrades, gunshots came one after another, and screams erupted from mouths and throats that no longer looked like humans.
"What kind of witchcraft trick is this?"
The political commissar screamed, fear taking away the last trace of discipline from his voice. The soldiers in front of him had coughed out their teeth, and their jaws opened to the limit with a click, and thick liquid gushes out from it, followed closely by
one hand.
So he started shooting, the pistol spraying out explosive shells that he hoped would work, until another hand followed the first and the explosive shells blew open the man's head.
Then something ripped him in half from the inside.
A grotesque monster rushed out from the fallen corpse, staring at the political commissar with yellow glass-like eyes. It was like a skinless hound, and its body was as hot as the soldier's corpse, covered in blood and filth, and filthy.
The visceral tissue slipped from the creature's face, and when his eyes met, the horrific thoughts of blood and killing invaded the political commissar's mind.
This caused him to panic, and he kept firing his bolt pistol.
Hit by the bomb, the monster flinched, and then it smiled, its misaligned teeth gleaming in the raging firelight.
Then its damn tongue hissed, and a sword was formed from the bones scattered under its feet. It took two steps forward. A soldier tried to escape from it because of fear and panic. The monster immediately took him
Cut in half.
The political commissar took this opportunity to escape from its gaze. He did not want to escape, but to reorganize the soldiers to fight back.
"Don't be messy! Don't be messy! Close the line!"
But what's worse is that the traitors also appeared again. They wore various masks, howled and brandished various crude weapons and rushed out of the evil church and the opened cellar entrance. The unprotected soldiers around them suddenly
Fallen in pieces.
With the sound of whistles and drums, although the fallen soldiers were still screaming, the soldiers of the three regiments recovered from the initial losses and began to retreat to more favorable areas to fight against the endless attacks.
Ignore the enemy and mobilize armored forces outside the town to counterattack.