Bzzzzz—!
Inside the cabin, the dull roar of the engines and the faint vibrations were unmistakable. The twenty fully armed Ork players crammed into the compartment sat motionless in their seats, eyes forward and minds still. No one spoke.
The reason they remained silent was that they had discipline.
An hour earlier, they had received orders to raid a small town roughly three thousand kilometers from the base. It contained some Chaos-twisted natives, several Chaos cultists, and possibly Demons or Chaos hounds.
So, before the battle began, they needed to rest a little and get themselves into fighting condition.
In the past, a squad like theirs definitely would not have been able to take down a town with Demons in it. But things were different now.
Not only were they fully armed, but everyone was above level twenty or thirty, with some even past level forty. On top of that, they had killed quite a lot of Chaos monsters and Imperium of Man bastards lately, so their combat experience had naturally risen as well.
In the past, when facing a single Demon—even the weakest Bloodletter or Flesh Hound—the players would have to go all out and might still end up in a miserable state. Sometimes, even several players together could not handle one.
But now, grown players could deal with a Flesh Hound one-on-one with ease. Even against elite Demons, they could fight on even footing with no issue. Unless they encountered a Greater Demon or something above that level, none of them would take it too seriously.
Of course, a tiny town could not possibly have a Greater Demon, and there probably would not be more than ten Demons either. As for those Chaos natives, grotesque twisted monsters, and Chaos cultists, there would not even be enough of them