"BOOM!"
Another three-meter-diameter Wrecking Ball was struck directly on its side by a melta cannon. Thousands of degrees of heat instantly incinerated the thick alloy armor, and the "Taste-Great Big 'Uns" inside were reduced to charred husks amidst their screams. The uncontrolled iron ball careened through the corridor, eventually slamming into a wall and coming to a halt.
"Nicely done!" the Colonel of the 2nd Marine Regiment shouted, a weary smile flickering across his face.
This was the sixth Wrecking Ball they had destroyed here. Since the ambush began just two minutes ago, they had already paid the price of nearly a thousand casualties. However, they had successfully stalled the Wrecking Ball squad and inflicted significant losses on the enemy.
On the bridge of the Gemstone, Dominic stared intently at the combat data on the main screen. When he saw the sixth Wrecking Ball destroyed, the tension in his expression finally eased into a slight smirk.
"It seems these so-called Wrecking Balls aren't invincible after all." His voice carried the return of his habitual confidence. The psychological shadow cast by the terrifying sight of the Anna swallowing a frigate whole was beginning to dissipate. These Greenskins might be bizarre, but they were ultimately flesh and blood. With enough firepower, they could be killed just the same.
"However, we cannot be careless," Dominic said, his smile vanishing as his gaze sharpened again. "Ragnar himself hasn't made his move yet. The real hard fight is still ahead. Order the troops at the first line to withdraw gradually. Don't throw their lives away in a head-on struggle. Lead them into the second defensive line."
"Yes, milord!"
Just then, the situation on the battlefield shifted abruptly.
"Report! A large number of enemy cavalry has appeared on the flank!"
"What?" Dominic frowned. "Cavalry? Using cavalry inside a space vessel?"
He could hardly believe his ears. He had heard of Greenskin madness, but using cavalry in the narrow corridors of a battleship was beyond ridiculous. Yet, the visuals on the screen confirmed the comms officer's report.
Countless Greenskin riders perched atop giant Squigs were bursting out from side ventilation shafts and maintenance tunnels. These Squigs were massive, standing over three meters at the shoulder, with thick, rough skin and jagged tusks and claws. On their backs rode Greenskins of the Snakebite Clan, clad in animal skins and brandishing spears and choppas.
The Snakebite Clan was the most primitive among the major Greenskin sub-factions. They loathed complex technology, putting their faith instead in their own fists and the strength of their mounts. They lacked their own fleets and were poor pilots, but they were the finest cavalry force on the planet Dorito. For this assault on the Gemstone, Ragnar had specifically brought two thousand elite Snakebite riders. The most elite among them had arrived via the "Big-Un" Boarding Torpedoes and were the first Greenskin reinforcements to regroup with Ragnar.
"Charge! For Boss Ragnar! WAAAAGH!!" A Snakebite Big 'Un roared, spurring his mount forward toward the Imperial line.
The giant Squigs let out deafening bellows, their twin legs thundering as they rampaged through the narrow hallway. Their momentum was staggering; heavy blast doors were headbutted open, and sandbag fortifications were trampled flat.
The Imperial soldiers frantically turned their weapons toward the riders. Las-bolts and bullets struck the Squigs' thick hides, leaving only shallow wounds that failed to inflict lethal damage. Instead, the pain only enraged the beasts, making them more feral.
"Fire! Use the heavy bolters! Aim for their eyes!" the Colonel screamed at the top of his lungs.
The soldiers switched to heavy bolters, targeting the Squigs' eyes and mouths. Finally, several Squigs were downed, collapsing to the floor. But the rest slammed into the Imperial line, opening their cavernous maws to tear apart everything in sight. The Snakebite riders swung their spears and choppas, hacking wildly into the crowd.
The already precarious first line of defense collapsed instantly.
"Retreat! Fall back now!" the Colonel ordered helplessly. The surviving soldiers threw down their heavy gear and sprinted toward the second line.
"Hahaha! Pathetic shrimp!" Ragnar laughed, poking his head out of his iron ball. "Chase 'em down! Don't let a single shrimp escape!"
"WAAAAGH!!" The Wrecking Ball squad and the Snakebite cavalry erupted in a feverish roar, pursuing the fleeing Imperial soldiers.
Leading his remaining fifty-odd Wrecking Balls, Ragnar rampaged all the way to the Upper Deck. Just as they crossed the threshold, a blinding arc of blue electricity slammed into them.
ZZZT!
The leading Wrecking Ball took a direct hit. The powerful current surged through the entire sphere. Black smoke billowed from its surface as its speed visibly dropped.
"Who's there?!" Ragnar snarled, looking up.
In the broad corridor of the Upper Deck, a wall of steel stood ready. At the front of the line were dozens of Krios Battle Tanks. These tanks had traded heavy physical armor for layers of shimmering, pale-blue flare shields. Mounted on their turrets were twin-linked Lightning Locks.
Behind the tanks stood rows of Skitarii, the tech-guard of the Mechanicus, clad in red-and-black power armor. They held arc rifles and radium carbines, their cold eyes watching the oncoming Greenskins. Several Tech-Priests in long robes, their bodies covered in mechanical augmentations, stood at the center of the line, their fingers flying across data-slates as they adjusted tactical deployments.
This was the second line of defense Dominic had prepared. Composed of Mechanicus Skitarii and heavy combat servitors, it was one of the most elite fighting forces aboard the Gemstone.
"Commence firing," the lead Tech-Priest commanded in a chilling, synthesized voice.
ZZZT! ZZZT! ZZZT!
Dozens of Lightning Locks fired simultaneously. It was like a divine punishment; thick bolts of lightning enveloped the Wrecking Balls and the Snakebite cavalry.
"Spread out! Move!" Ragnar shouted.
The Wrecking Balls scrambled to the sides to avoid the arcs. But several slower ones were hit; the intense current caused their controls to malfunction temporarily, leaving the iron balls motionless. The Snakebite cavalry, however, utilized the Squigs' agility to weave through the lightning. They bobbed and splayed through the corridor, closing the distance rapidly.
"The hide of these Squigs acts as a natural insulator; arc attacks are inefficient," the Tech-Priest noted calmly. "Switching weapons. Heavy Servitors Type-II, step forward."
At his command, twenty-four heavy combat servitors, each standing three meters tall, emerged from behind the line. These servitors were encased in heavy plate armor, their faces obscured by gas masks. They operated in pairs, lugging massive Rad-burst Cannons.
"Target: Enemy cavalry. Free fire."
HMMM—
The Rad-burst Cannons emitted a low-frequency hum. Beams of sickly green, lethal radiation lanced toward the charging Snakebite riders. Radiation was the bane of all organic life. It could instantly dissolve cellular structures, causing flesh to rot and disintegrate within seconds. The massive Cave Squigs, while thick-skinned enough to shrug off bullets and lightning, had no defense against the radiation's erosion.
"AIEEE!!"
The Squigs at the front let out agonizing shrieks. As the radiation hit, their skin began to rapidly liquefy and slough off, exposing muscle and bone to the air. In mere seconds, they were reduced to piles of black ash. The Snakebite riders on their backs fared no better, vanishing into the radioactive haze along with their mounts.
"What is that!?" the leader of the Snakebite cavalry screamed in terror. He had never seen such a terrifying weapon. Before they could even see the faces of their enemies, his subordinates were falling in swaths.
"Charge! Keep charging!"
He couldn't afford to care about the losses; their objective was to create a better opening for Boss Ragnar. Beams of lethal radiation, like the scythe of the Reaper, continuously harvested the lives of the charging riders. In just one minute, more than half of the elite Snakebite cavalry were gone. Black ash carpeted the entire corridor.
"A bunch of useless gits!" Ragnar cursed. He had originally thought the Snakebite cavalry could help him tear open the Mechanicus defensive line. He hadn't expected them to be so fragile. "Wrecking Ball squad, with me! Charge!"
Ragnar roared, retracting himself back into his iron sphere and hurtling toward the Mechanicus line. The remaining forty-odd Wrecking Balls followed close behind. They rolled rapidly through the corridor, weaving to evade the strikes of the Lightning Locks and Rad-burst Cannons.
Because the Wrecking Balls were encased in thick metal armor, the radiation had little effect on them. The arc attacks could only temporarily paralyze them, failing to inflict lethal damage. Soon, the Wrecking Ball squad had closed to within fifty meters of the defensive line.
"Cybernetica Automata, deploy!" the Tech-Priest commanded once more.
The blast doors on both sides of the line slid open. Over a hundred Domitar-class Automata stepped out with heavy, echoing strides. These heavy robots stood over three meters tall, their frames entirely covered in thick adamantium plating. They were war machines specifically developed by the Adeptus Mechanicus for frontal crushing operations.
"Target: Enemy iron spheres. Utilize Sunderer Missiles."
The shoulder-mounted launchers of the Domitar Automata opened. Special Sunderer Missiles streaked toward the Wrecking Ball squad. These missiles had been developed by the Ordo Reductor specifically to counter the "Green Tide" tactics of the Orks. They combined lethal shrapnel with high-yield explosives; upon detonation, they scattered thousands of razor-sharp fragments in all directions—acting like a massive shotgun designed to shred dense infantry and light armored targets.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The Sunderer Missiles exploded in the midst of the Wrecking Ball squad. Countless sharp fragments sprayed outward like a rainstorm. While they couldn't penetrate the front armor of the iron balls, the sheer force of the impact caused significant knockback.
Simultaneously, the Skitarii switched to "Phosphor-Touch" flamethrowers. Streams of searing white phosphor fire erupted toward the stalled Wrecking Balls. The temperature of the phosphor fire reached tens of thousands of degrees, capable of incinerating any organic matter. Furthermore, once it touched a surface, it was nearly impossible to extinguish.
The stalled iron balls were instantly engulfed in white flames. The armor glowed cherry-red, and the "Taste-Great Big 'Uns" inside let out agonizing shrieks. Soon, the screaming stopped. Under the searing heat of the phosphor and the obstruction of the Automata, the once-invincible Wrecking Ball squad was halted for the first time. They could not advance another inch.
Ragnar watched his subordinates being destroyed one by one, feeling a rare sense of helplessness. But he knew time was not on his side. Every minute of delay allowed more Imperial soldiers to arrive as reinforcements. Moreover, the Anna outside was still enduring the cannon fire of the human fleet; it wouldn't hold out much longer. He had to break through this line immediately, reach the bridge, and kill Dominic!
"Out of my way! I'll do it!" Ragnar roared. He drove his giant iron ball forward, charging directly at the Domitar Automata.
His sphere was ten meters in diameter—three times larger than a standard Wrecking Ball. Its armor was even more massive. The Sunderer Missiles striking his sphere left only shallow dents.
CRASH!
Ragnar's sphere slammed violently into a Domitar-class Automaton. The Automaton, weighing dozens of tons, was sent flying. It crashed heavily to the ground, its armor buckled and components scattered across the floor.
"Die!" Ragnar's sphere rolled over the Automaton, crushing it into a heap of scrap metal.
"Boss is mighty!" The remaining Wrecking Balls, seeing Ragnar's display of power, felt their morale surge. They plucked up their courage and charged the Automata once again. The battlefield fell into a grinding stalemate.
Just as the two sides were locked in a desperate struggle, chaos suddenly erupted at the rear of the Mechanicus line.
"Enemy attack! Attack from the rear!"
"Tech-Priest, look out!"
Several shrill cries rang out. It was the Blood Axe Kommando Boyz seizing the opportunity to strike. The Blood Axe clan was the most cunning among the Greenskin factions, specializing in ambushes and assassinations. They were also the only Greenskin force in this boarding action that had been randomly teleported directly to the Upper Decks. After landing, they hadn't made a sound, quietly killing any witnesses and remaining hidden. They had been waiting for the perfect moment.
Now, that moment had arrived. The attention of all the Skitarii and Automata was focused on the Wrecking Balls in front of them. The rear of the line was almost completely undefended. Dozens of Blood Axe agents lunged out from the shadows. Brandishing Greenskin power claws, they moved with clear intent, diving straight for the Tech-Priests at the center of the line.
"Protect the Priests!" several Skitarii shouted, turning to intercept.
But the Blood Axe agents were too fast. They evaded the Skitarii's attacks and were upon the Tech-Priests in an instant.
SQUELCH!
Sharp power blades easily pierced through the Tech-Priests' robes and mechanical augmentations. The lead Tech-Priest didn't even have time to react before his throat was slit. Blood and machine oil sprayed across the cold metal floor. Two other Tech-Priests also fell in pools of blood under the suicidal charge of the Blood Axes.
"The Priests are down!"
Mechanicus forces relied heavily on the command and coordination of the Tech-Priests. Without their unified direction, the synchronization between the Automata and the Skitarii immediately fractured. They were no longer the orderly machine they had been moments ago.
"Now's the time! Charge!" Ragnar roared, seizing this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
He led the Wrecking Ball squad in a full-scale charge. The uncoordinated Automata were unable to withstand the impact. One after another, the robots were smashed and crushed. The Skitarii defensive line collapsed completely.
Ragnar led his remaining forty-odd Wrecking Balls in a bloody rampage, thoroughly annihilating the second line of defense. The Mechanicus forces suffered heavy casualties; the surviving Skitarii and servitors were forced to retreat.
"Hahaha! I told ya, nobody stops Great-Gulp Ragnar!" Ragnar laughed triumphantly. He poked his head out of the sphere, looking at the mechanical wreckage and corpses littering the floor, his eyes gleaming with bloodlust. "Keep movin'! Objective: The bridge!"
"WAAAAGH!!!"
Ten minutes later.
Ragnar and his Wrecking Ball squad passed through a long corridor and arrived before the doors of a massive hall. This hall was used on the Gemstone for hosting aristocratic balls and banquets. It was incredibly spacious, covering over two thousand square meters. The ceiling was ten meters high, adorned with magnificent crystal chandeliers. The floor was polished marble.
The entire hall offered absolutely no cover. Under normal circumstances, such open terrain would be perfect for the Wrecking Ball squad. However, Ragnar did something rare: he came to a halt.
His expression turned grim. At the far end of the hall, ten Stormblade super-heavy tanks were lined up in a row, their massive barrels pointing directly at the entrance.
The battle has escalated from infantry skirmishes to a confrontation with super-heavy armor. Given the lack of cover in the ballroom, Ragnar is in a very tight spot.