We Can Fight Them All Day

Data streams briefly distorted in the air, and Nightingale and Silence materialized out of thin air beside the Squad Leader of their Third Squad.

After nearly twenty days of gameplay, the developer with the ID Bit finally finalized the current resurrection rules on the official forum and pinned them in an update announcement—[Dead Players will resurrect beside their immediate superior. For example, ordinary soldiers resurrect beside their Squad Leader, while Squad Leaders resurrect beside their Company Commander.]

Only then did the Players suddenly understand why they had failed to figure out the resurrection rules for so long: even the developers themselves had not made up their minds, and the resurrection rules had kept changing.

Still, it was good that the rules had finally been fixed. The two resurrected scouts immediately told Ruan Wenbo everything they had observed in exhaustive detail. After hearing them out, Ruan Wenbo's expression darkened. He immediately had them use their walkie-talkies to report the coordinates they had just been at to Fifth Squad.

Fifth Squad was the team currently operating that Wyvern self-propelled mortar.

That Cult Sorcerer could not possibly have died in explosions caused by merely two Frag Grenades, but he would at least have been injured, and his formation would inevitably have fallen into chaos. If he had been careless and was still staying put, the Wyvern's quad rapid-fire mortars might be able to blow him sky-high. Mortar shells were expensive, but firepower only counted once it had been fired. This was clearly not the time to save money.

Fifth Squad began moving the moment they received the order. They skillfully consulted a hand-drawn firing table—thanks went to Third Squad, the first squad to use this vehicle. Based on their own experience, they had produced a remarkably accurate firing table, greatly reducing the learning costs for the squads that came after. After further improvements by later squads, this firing table had become a fully qualified professional tool.

The gunner swiftly adjusted the mortar's elevation and traverse mechanisms. The loader decisively loaded four rounds into place, then yanked hard on the firing lever.

"Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!"

Four dull reports echoed through the passageway, followed by a continuous series of explosions in the distance. Ruan Wenbo immediately asked over the walkie-talkie, "How were the results?"

The Fifth Squad vehicle commander's voice soon came through. "Reporting to the Company Commander, we earned over a hundred merit points and killed quite a few Genestealers, but there was no kill notification for that Cult Sorcerer in the system report... We were a step too late. Sigh, the damned fourth shell jammed during loading. Otherwise, we could have been three seconds faster!"

The vehicle commander added, "But speaking of which, a single Genestealer on my end is worth around one merit point, and that's after it's divided among our three-man crew. That means one Genestealer is actually worth around three merit points... four to five times the value of those Underhive Cultists."

"You've already done very well," Ruan Wenbo comforted him. "It was expected that Genestealers would be worth more merit points. In fact, I think they're being undervalued—according to the original Warhammer setting, their fighting spirit and organization are at least nine, maybe even ten times greater than ordinary Cultists."

Lowering his walkie-talkie, Ruan Wenbo watched the Player force begin advancing again and fell into thought. The Genestealer cult was a threat more hidden and deceptive than Chaos cults. They saw themselves as symbols of truth, packaging their twisted doctrines as liberation and freedom, precisely targeting what Underhive workers desired most. The entire cult was united as one, firmly believing that they would spread this "great cause of liberation" across the entire universe.

But unfortunately, the Genestealer cult was fundamentally no different from the Chaos cults and upper-hive nobles they despised. This was likewise an evil path that led humanity toward self-destruction. When the "Void Lord" they worshipped, the all-devouring Tyranid, arrived, all liberation, freedom, and unity would be devoured completely as biomass, leaving not a trace behind.

Ruan Wenbo clenched his fist and issued an order into the walkie-talkie.

"Advance! The Death Seekers must destroy them before they destroy more people!"

The Players reacted enthusiastically, all sorts of voices ringing out over the squad channel.

"Whoa! This large-scale battlefield game even has pre-battle mobilization?"

"I'm fired up! For humanity, for the Emperor!"

"Get out of my way, I'm going to farm merit points! Three points each! I can fight them all day!"

Meanwhile, in the distribution plaza that had just been plowed by artillery fire, a figure calmly watched the inferno before him.

He was the Cult Sorcerer, Mas Kyle. The self-destruction of those two Players had indeed injured him somewhat, but he quickly reacted and ordered his cult brethren to extinguish the fires and collect the corpses.

He himself had left the area—what he had told those two Players about preparing a celebration had not been a false lie. The old Kyle had been silver-tongued and excelled at lying. But ever since joining the cult and learning the truth, he had never lied again. He treated everyone with sincerity.

After all, everyone would sooner or later enter the embrace of the Void Lord. At that time, everyone would be as one. Why would one need to lie to oneself?

The hybrid Xenos around him wore expressions of grief and pain. Many believers knelt on the ground, quietly praying for their fallen brethren.

"There is no need to grieve," Kyle said softly, yet his voice clearly pierced through the crackling flames and reached every believer's ears. "They merely freed their souls from the prison of their decaying flesh ahead of time. When the Void Lord arrives, they will join us in entering the embrace of that great will."

A Four-Armed Hybrid beside Kyle said bitterly, "Mentor! We sincerely invited them to join the great cause, yet they ambushed us with such despicable methods!"

"It is of no consequence," Kyle said in an almost merciful tone. "They rejected the path to liberation. That is their loss. The arrival of the Void Lord is an unquestionable cosmic truth, one that cannot be changed by the choices or will of any mortal."

He spread his arms as if embracing the souls of his fallen brethren.

"The Void Lord embraces all and treats every soul equally... whether base or noble, whether faithful or faithless."

Kyle paused, turning his gaze toward the direction from which the Death Seekers Company was coming. The mercy in his eyes was replaced by a cold fanaticism.

"But the more people accept the faith, the less needless suffering and resistance there will be when the Void Lord arrives."

"Brethren, act! Completely destroy those stubborn unbelievers! So that more brothers and sisters may gain freedom and liberation!"