"The rebels won't give us much time. Change into uniforms immediately after eating, then have the veterans take turns sleeping and resting."
"Take all the supplies you can. If you really can't carry it, leave it in the warehouse as bait. Once the rebels enter, blow up all the ammunition."
Inside the supply station, Sith, along with Bruno, Ana, and over a dozen sergeants, crouched around a map.
Everyone nodded repeatedly in response to Sith's orders. After speaking for a while, Sith suddenly looked up at Bruno:
"What about the recruits? How many have we conscripted?"
Bruno answered decisively:
"Over four thousand, plus the veterans, making up a full-strength infantry regiment."
"That many?"
Sith was taken aback because there weren't that many civilians in the supply station.
Bruno explained:
"After we repelled the nearby rebels, many survivors came seeking refuge."
Hearing this, Sith glanced at the recruits changing into uniforms in the distance. There were both men and women, but without exception, they were all physically robust.
After all, working as laborers in the Hive City, those with slightly poorer physical constitution wouldn't have survived until now.
Nodding, Sith refocused his attention:
"Good. Make sure the recruits eat their fill, and training must begin immediately."
As he spoke, Sith lowered his head and looked at his wrist, where his watch was still ticking:
"From now until departure, we have exactly twelve Terra hours. During this time, the most outstanding veterans must be assigned to train them."
Half a day, amplified a hundredfold, is a full fifty days of intense load.
Although it won't turn these recruits into elites, it can at least help them take a solid first step towards becoming soldiers.
Several sergeants quickly nodded and immediately stood up to start making arrangements.
Sith looked at the map again, his gaze tracing the long road from their corner of the Hive City all the way to the top level. He stood up solemnly.
Those around him hurriedly stood up as well, and Sith turned his attention to his soldiers.
Possessing a Legion-level supply station capable of supporting tens of thousands, even the recruits received full sets of plasteel chest plates, helmets, lasguns, and fragmentation grenades.
Coupled with intact uniforms, they actually managed to project a bit of presence wherever they stood.
However, looking at the recruits who had just begun training, their faces still etched with panic, Sith hardly dared to hope he could lead all of them alive through this breakout path.
Sith's gaze could only rest on the veterans who had survived until now.
Blessed with terrifying combat experience, the veterans' equipment was far more lethal.
Now, they had shed their previous Khorne Berzerker appearance. Everyone wore three-sided ballistic helmets sourced from the Cadian Shock Troops, equipped with the latest respirators and goggles, completely encasing their heads.
This not only effectively protected their heads but also guarded against poison gas and glare.
Their bodies were clad in military-grade cold-weather gear, externally fitted not only with plasteel chest plates but also additional pauldrons, vambraces, and knee pads.
Their hand-held weapons were also replaced with brand-new lasguns.
And the rifles were just standard issue. Currently, the veterans' webbing was packed to the brim.
Magazines and fragmentation grenades covered their bodies. Around the waists of a few of the most outstanding veterans, there were even several precious melta bombs.
These veterans no longer wielded the ever-present lasgun but flamers or grenade launchers.
Combined with sidearms, combat knives, daggers, and other close-quarters weapons, except for lacking some high-tech backpack support, they were now a genuine, top-tier Mortal elite force no less formidable than the Cadian Shock Troops.
And from being a disposable, no-name local PDF to reaching this point, Sith had only led them through three battles.
Looking at these veterans, Sith finally gave a slight nod. Then, his eyes returned to the distant, unmistakable rumble of tank treads. Only one final step remained before executing the breakout.
"Select fifty of the most elite veterans. I'll lead them to seize the armored vehicle."
Sith looked towards the direction of the armored vehicle. Bruno nodded in agreement. In this damned galaxy, there was no notion that someone of high status was too noble to take risks.
Especially with Guilliman setting the example, from the Imperial Regent down to Chapter Masters, their favorite thing was leading the charge, blade in hand, to cut people down.
Oh no, to cut down heretics.
Soon, fifty fully armed veterans assembled.
Among them was not only one grenade launcher but also two flamer specialists.
Once the team was assembled, Sith didn't waste any words. He just loaded a fresh magazine into his sidearm, sat by the exit, and silently waited for the time.
At that moment, in the passageway far from the supply station.
A Chimera armored personnel carrier was parked in the center, surrounded by dense crowds of covering rebel troops and various firing positions of all sizes.
The traitorous vehicle crew sat on the armored vehicle, eating fresh roasted meat delivered by lower-ranking rebels.
Behind the armored vehicle, a group of rebel officers knelt on the ground, terrified, facing a man wiping a long blade, with forked horns on his forehead.
"A thousand men not only held off tens of thousands but afterwards charged with blades all the way from the entrance to the supply station..."
"Listen to that. How am I supposed to believe that? How is our Lord supposed to believe that?"
The horned man spoke earnestly, even performing a strange, reverent salute when mentioning 'our Lord'.
The rebel officers kneeling below all prostrated themselves even lower at these words, their bodies trembling more violently.
After speaking, the horned man didn't continue the punishment. He just looked ahead at the armored personnel carrier he had brought and the tiny supply station surrounded by his own sea of troops, his expression dismissive.
"Your lies will be exposed by me personally."
"Once I eliminate all the troublesome obstacles, our Lord will decide your punishment."
Saying this, the horned man originally expected to see more terror on the faces of the officers at his feet.
But who knew that after he finished, the officers below not only weren't more frightened but cautiously exchanged glances and sighed in relief!
This scene made the horned man pause:
"Why does it feel... like they're afraid I *won't* attack?"
Doubt arose in his heart. Although he already had an explanation for this doubt, even now, he was unwilling to admit it.
That explanation was that what his subordinate officers said was actually true!
Because only if they were telling the truth would this attack of his not pressure them but instead completely clear them of blame.
The horned man's expression darkened slightly. He swept a vicious glance over the kneeling officers, then raised his eyes again to look at the isolated supply station in the distance.
Glancing at the time, he lost the patience to wait for his predetermined moment. The horned man directly raised his hand, signaling the attack.
The armored personnel carrier immediately started its engine and, following previous practice, began soothing the machine spirit.
But the engine roar seemed to act as a signal. As the sound echoed through the Hive City, the supposedly doomed supply station in the distance responded with a blast. The blocked gate exploded open again.
Then, under the wide-eyed stares of the rebel forces, several dozen 'Astra Militarum' troops charged out, braving a curtain of fire.
The process was really nothing to elaborate on. In the horned man's understanding, it was a group of people charging out, cutting through his sea of troops, jumping onto his armored vehicle, slapping the original crew into dazed clarity, then jumping in and driving the vehicle back with swagger.
By the time the armored vehicle started moving, the surrounding rebel firing positions couldn't react fast enough to decide whether to shoot. Everyone watched quietly, waiting for the signal. The horned man stood dumbfounded for a long moment, then suddenly his eyes cleared, and he turned to do something else.
Picking up the communicator, the horned man spoke into the microphone with utmost seriousness:
"Yes, several dozen people. They cut right through our horde."
"Correct. Then they took the armored vehicle and incidentally blasted over a dozen firing positions to pieces."
"Um... not fought their way back, sir. To be precise..."
"They *rolled* back."