A vast torrent of steel roared with the fury of modern human industry.
Above them, the sky was filled with elites selected from among thousands, piloting humanity's wings as they soared through the heavens and tearing Daemons apart with sharp claws.
The Daemon Legion summoned by Frederick Taylor was caught completely off guard and immediately subjected to a brutal assault. An area spanning hundreds of square kilometers was almost entirely blanketed by artillery fire, thoroughly scoured with unprecedented intensity and density!
Ruins? Wreckage?
No. Under such terrifyingly dense bombardment, the view had become completely unobstructed.
Forget the wreckage and ruins of buildings—even finding a slightly larger mound of earth was difficult. Guided by the bombardment of the main battle tank formations and supported by long-range fire from the rear, the relentless barrage spared no expense. The former Senate of Holy Terra had been utterly reduced to a wasteland.
The ground was visibly charred black, and the concentration of gunpowder in the air was almost suffocating.
The scorching heat evaporated the air, even creating vast amounts of thick smoke and white mist. Mixed with dust kicked up by the shells, the scene resembled Purgatory.
Tzeentch's Daemon Legion had not failed to attempt a counterattack.
The problem was that, from a professional military perspective, the place where they had been summoned was wide open on all sides, with absolutely no cover.
At first, the Daemon heavy armor tried to contest the firepower. But after it pierced several tanks, it was immediately subjected to omnidirectional, inescapable fire coverage that was ten times greater. Heavy armor-piercing shells poured down as though they cost nothing.
Within seconds, the heavy armor unit was battered into scrap, reduced to a burning mass of wreckage and Biomass.
Frederick Taylor himself received even more special attention.
Rocket forces, mortars,