The battlefield suddenly fell silent.
Witnessing their Ork Boss meet such a tragic and cruel death right before their eyes, the suicidal frenzy in the eyes of all the Greenskin Boyz gradually faded, replaced by a much clearer gaze.
As Lucia slowly stood up on the vehicle's roof, her cold gaze sweeping the surroundings, many of the previously fierce Greenskin Boyz even plopped down onto the ground, eventually scrambling away in all directions.
This was a common affliction of the Ork race.
Once the Ork Boss, the energy node of the "Waaaagh," died, all the Greenskin Boyz would completely lose the will to fight, instantly switching from fearless warriors to timid mice. Their combat will became extremely weak, and they cared only about scattered, frantic escape.
This fatal weakness also made the Orks one of the races in the universe most terrified of decapitation tactics.
But then again, were there any races in this universe that weren't afraid of decapitation tactics?
Adam pondered silently.
However, as the saying goes, strike while the iron is hot. Seeing this situation, all the Astartes immediately advanced their lines and pursued the fleeing enemy.
bolters and Assault Cannons simultaneously unleashed a barrage of fire, and various plasma beams and even meltagun rays sliced through the air, slaughtering the enemies fleeing away from them with efficiency far exceeding what came before.
Naturally, the Orks were not entirely unresponsive.
Behind the battle lines, on a massive Combat Fortress covered in a dazzling array of cannons of various sizes, a bulkier Ork Boss, Galya, who was also the Commander of this campaign, stood up and looked out the observation window.
He scratched his chin with a thick finger and asked the Orks beside him, "What happened?"
However, after hearing the disorganized answers from his Boyz, the confusion on his face deepened.
"What's going on? What do you mean Challenge got run over by a big vehicle driven by a golden prawn?"
The statement sounded utterly ridiculous; even by the Orks' chaotic and disorderly standards of comprehension, it was too abstract.
Galya suppressed the urge to immediately raise his massive, sandbag-sized fist and beat the Boy who spoke, and began to figure out a solution.
"By Gork and Mork..."
That prawn warship in the sky still hadn't been dealt with. He was trying to figure out how to dodge the Lance strikes; those massive, thick beams could easily tear through anything.
When he saw the opponent actively descend to fight earlier, he thought they had good martial virtue and were quite "Waaaagh"—a good opponent. He hadn't expected them to be capable fighters, but perhaps a bit too capable.
However, Galya quickly made a decision.
"You, get over here!"
He pointed randomly at an Ork: "You, that one... never mind, your name doesn't matter. Go immediately organize those terrified Boyz for a counterattack. First, hold those humans firmly, organize a defensive line, and block them!"
As he spoke, his gaze swept outward. Finally, Galya's eyes lit up, and he yanked a Mek Boy from the crowd: "And you, yes, you! Get out your magnificent Loudspeaker Cannon and yell loudly for me! Organize all the big, strong Mega-Units, those Killa Kans, Deff Dreads, and all the tanks—gather them all here!"
"That Challenge guy wasn't worthy of being a Blood Axe Clan member at all! All day long he was either scheming some useless cunning trick or just thinking about fighting. Not 'Waaaagh' at all!"
"Today, I'm gonna set up a super awesome, super invincible, super 'Waaaagh' formation, clench it into a fist, and crush those stinking shrimp completely! Once our 'Gork's Fist' smashes into their position, even if their fleet's laser cannons are bright, they won't dare to fire!"
"That's right, just like that! I'm the sneakiest one!"
On the other side, Adam, who was firing alongside the advancing Astartes Company amidst the constant roar, suddenly stopped.
He turned to look at Sibylla and asked, "Is the intelligence accurate?"
Sibylla nodded, a faint blue Psychic Power glow illuminating her eyes: "Yes, I have sensed that the xenos are gathering armored units, attempting to increase their troop density and then crush us in one fell swoop."
"Oh, is that so?"
Adam mused slightly, "That does seem a bit tricky."
He quickly understood the enemy's intention.
The enemy planned to use the lives of the Greenskin Boyz to delay their advance, seize the opportunity to mobilize forces, and then crush them with overwhelming force.
After all, the reason the Custodes and the Living Saint could carve through the enemy hordes was fundamentally because the heavy weapons on the vehicles that posed a threat to them couldn't track their speed.
As for the "little squirt guns" held by the Ork Boyz accompanying the tanks, they posed no threat at all, requiring no evasion, allowing them to move freely through the enemy ranks.
But if the enemy concentrated all their armored units, formed a dense formation, and charged like a wall, striking like an iron fist, the situation would become slightly tricky.
After all, even a Greater daemon—one capable of easily corrupting a planet and inciting war across an entire Sector—was not entirely safe from vehicle units.
The most famous example was, perhaps, a certain unnamed Great Unclean One who was run over by a Rhino APC and sent back to the Warp.
"But what exactly are they thinking?"
Adam muttered speechlessly while drawing the Caladbolg in his hand and pointing it toward the sky.
Following the connection of the Emperor's Psychic Power, he once again established clear contact with the machine spirit of the strike cruiser in the sky, ready to launch a new round of orbital bombardment at any moment.
Indeed, Adam was reluctant to use orbital bombardment.
But that didn't mean he couldn't use it.
Just as Adam was about to give the order, sharp screams sliced through the air, interrupting his thoughts.
It was an artillery strike!
Adam immediately became alert and cast another layer of shield around himself.
"Didn't I mostly wipe out the Ork artillery when I teleported down?"
However, he quickly realized that the sound of the shelling, like rolling thunder across the sky, was not aimed at them, but at the Ork army.
"Boom boom boom boom boom—!!"
Shell after shell of high-explosive ordnance burst among the newly organized Ork crowds as if they had eyes, shrapnel tearing through bone and flesh, blooming into flowers of blood among the enemy ranks, mowing down large swathes of Orks like wheat.
This round of shelling was terrifyingly accurate, instantly disrupting the rhythm the Orks had just established, and their formation scattered once more.
Consequently, the advance speed of Adam and his group increased several fold.
...What precise shelling.
Adam and Sibylla were surprised simultaneously.
Anyone with a slight understanding of the Astra Militarum knows that due to the rigidity of the Imperial system and poor management capabilities, most Astra Militarum Infantry Regiments basically only have infantry, and Artillery Regiments only have artillery, a rigid division that is quite typical.
Furthermore, due to constant interstellar travel and combat, personnel and equipment attrition is immense. Generally speaking, the Astra Militarum severely lacks heavy indirect-fire artillery units, and many officers are actually unfamiliar with this kind of immediate-response artillery support.
It's no wonder that in most campaigns, they are beaten like spinning tops by the T'au.
When one side is still using World War I tactics while the other has long embraced integrated fire and communications, it would be strange if they won.
"This Astra Militarum unit seems to have some capability."