The next morning, the sun slowly rose again in the west, and dawn began to spill across the battlefield, which was filled with smoke and flames.
With the full support of a certain troublemaking little leader, the base's upper brass finally came to their senses and sent in more reinforcements. Even the ground armor units rolled in in force and joined the battle. Since human troops performed better in daylight than at night, the fighting was finally brought under control.
And so!
The Warp Daemons, at least tens of thousands strong, saw that victory was out of reach. They were surely reluctant to give up such a rare chance to wipe out the humans, but they had already suffered more than fifty percent casualties and were running out of reinforcements. Under the humans' overwhelming firepower and bombardment, they had no choice but to break apart and flee in every direction.
It was just like what they did on the front lines against the humans.
In any case, they had fled, but they were still scattered all across the vast jungles and wilderness. That, more or less, remained a threat.
Still, none of that had much to do with the soldiers who had fought desperately all night. Having survived the ordeal, they rested and counted their blessings at the hilltop position, then began an orderly withdrawal under the cover of the reinforcements.
By the afternoon, a rough tally of the casualties was ready.
The Daemons' ambush and surprise attack had inflicted devastating losses on the transport force. Of its ninety-six transports, sixty-two had crashed. Fifty-nine pilots had died on the spot, along with 3,212 soldiers who had fallen forever in those woods. The transports had been carrying more than ten thousand recruits who were meant to be distributed among the various