When he woke up, Hartman Paul found his head on someone's thigh, or that part should be someone's thigh, if the other party still has legs.
But there is no doubt that his commander has been completely dead.
But he is still alive, incredible, he survived again
Turning his head, he found that the priest was dead, and his body in a white priest robe pressed against Hartman Paul, and his forehead was penetrated by a large piece of broken metal, as if he had a twisted horn.
The metal walls of their warehouse as positions were tilted exaggeratedly, and blood splattered everywhere in the house, and he could not move at all.
Then he heard someone moving things, and then the sound of the item box being closed.
"Help."
Hartman Paul shouted in a husky voice.
"Who is there? Please help me."
"Sorry, company commander, I thought you were dead too."
It was the voice of the recruit Lunengte. Then he saw the hairy big hands reaching out, and then the big guy picked up the priest's body from him and put it under his armpits, and then threw it aside casually.
Lunengte was just a chef not long ago, but after the fourth month of the siege, there was nothing in the nest for him to cook, so he was naturally recruited to the front line.
"I don't know why I'm not dead. Is there anyone else who lives?"
"Yes, the correspondent is still alive, but is injured, and Neck is also alive, but is seriously injured."
Lunengte said regretfully:
"It seems that Vannis and Grass are nothing serious, and one gunner survived, and the others are killed."
Then, after the 26th attack of Greenskin, seven of their entire regiment survived, which was incredible.
“This is a miracle.”
Hartman said softly after coughing twice:
"The Emperor blessed us."
Lunengte shrugged and helped him sit up.
"Then the next time the Green Skin attacks again, can the Emperor and His elders come to help us personally? Otherwise, there are only seven of us, and I guess a group of shits will not be able to deal with it."
"How is the position?"
Hartman murmured while trying to get himself up and try to wipe away the blood from his face.
"Sir, this is the case for our position. There are a few broken bricks and tiles, and a heavy bomb that cannot be fired several shots... Our previous regiment commander was too cruel and directly called the artillery to smash it on the position."
"This is the only way to keep it."
Shaking his head, Hartman stumbled, took two steps dizzyly, and then grabbed a nearby fragment and stabilized himself.
"Stand firmly, leader."
Lunengt said, while the big hand suddenly grabbed Hartman's arm.
"All the officers have died. Now you are our regiment commander... Your head must have been very badly dropped. You may have been in a coma for several hours, which is why I thought you didn't survive."
Hartman, who was successfully promoted from company commander to regiment commander, muttered and responded. Over the days, he had changed more than a dozen regiment commanders himself, but he didn't expect that the position would fall on him in the end.
Since withdrawing from position No. 39, Hartman has truly grown from an ordinary person to a "warrior", and there is only one reason for him to grow like this -
Hate!
He witnessed his comrade-in-arms tragically dying under the green-skinned wheels, and also heard the news that his hometown was destroyed and ravaged. He had nothing left, and all he left was endless hatred for the alien.
As one of the "veterans" withdrawn from the front line, as soon as Hartman retreated to Hades's Nest Capital, he was immediately assigned to the main force to defend the most critical areas.
What they are now in is one of the passages at the southern gate of Chaodu, and behind it is a power station, responsible for providing energy for the Void Shield in the entire area.
If it weren't for the protection of Hades' layers of void shields, they would have been shattered by green-skinned long-range firepower, so every power station was crucial.
"Why is no one here to pick us up yet?"
Their regiment has been here for three days and three nights. It is logical that there should be troops coming to change defenses.
But the only Lunengte who could speak was just shrugging.
"I don't know either. I have to let the correspondent answer you later. He may know some reasons."
“Can the communicator still work?”
"Part of that thing is now connected to his head, and the rest are falling everywhere."
Hartman Paul sighed helplessly. Without the orders of his superiors, they could not leave the position.
"Sir, can you leave now?"
Hartman Paul tried to move towards the torn hole in the door. His vision was a little blurred and his head ached, but he felt that there should be nothing serious in the overall situation.
So he silently prayed to the Emperor in his heart to thank him for his help.
"It's okay, it should be fine. Thank you for pulling me out there."
He then carefully crawled out of the wreckage and walked into a hot open space hit by a shell.
The surroundings were in a mess, the steel jungle was filled with corruption and the smell of progeness leaking from the cracked fuel tank, and a Chimera was burning. Hartman Paul only thanked the Emperor for his blessing to them to save the thing from turning into a ball of fire.
Correspondent Epirus was sitting on a falling statue with the surviving gunner, while medical soldier Vannis was on the edge of the steel fence, and recruit Glas was staring at the bodies, probably still not recovering from the shock of death.
Later, Lunengt walked out of the wreck with four laser guns and followed Hartmann out of the wreckage.
"Look at whom I've found."
Lunengte said with a grin, and the correspondent left and looked at the two of them in surprise.
"We all thought you were dead, company commander."
He was nursing his left arm, and the medic Vannis had bandaged him with a bandage. Given his left hand that was wrapped in a large ball shape, Hartman dared to say that the injury must be serious.
“My luck is not bad.”
“It’s true.”
After the correspondent said that, he moved in great pain.
"What have you found, the chef."
"Four laser guns, some grenades...at least we can get one for everyone now, and I also got some ammunition and a signal gun. I think we can use it in the future, by the way, the commander's sword."
As he said that, he handed the commanding sword into Hartman's hands.
Looking at the sword full of gaps and scars, Hartman felt a little sad.
"Communicationist, have you received any news?"
"I just wanted to talk about this, but my superiors sent an order that most of the areas we are in have fallen, and all living people must immediately retreat to the 39-12 defense zone."
Not surprisingly, to this extent, Hartman had already guessed that they could not defend this area, after all, the gunfire sounds on the surrounding positions had been on hold for a long time.
The key now is whether the road they retreated is still safe.