The Battle of Sigma Ustali, Forger of Worlds (Complete, 12,000-character chapter)

A bullet fired from the darkness punched through an Orc's skull, churning its brain into a puddle of mangled pulp.

The bullet's momentum did not fade. Whether by coincidence or not, it carried the first Orc's blood into the back of the next Orc's head, then burst out through its lower jaw.

The poor bastard's entire head and face were smashed beyond recognition. Its lower jaw flew to the far end of the corridor, and blood and minced flesh instantly splattered every corner of the dim passage.

But that was far from the end.

A gun was hurled out of the darkness. Under that immense force, it practically smashed its way straight into the flat nose of the last Orc. The only Orc left had not yet recovered from the ambush before it roared in agony from the violent pain.

Hitting the nose was always effective. With so many nerves packed together, excessive pain would deal a devastating blow to any creature with a sense of smell.

A dark figure came sprinting in. His left hand grabbed the Bolter embedded in the Orc's face and ripped it out by force. He kicked the Orc to the ground, then began beating its face with the stock until its head had completely turned into a pumpkin thrown down from the second floor.

Frank raised his hand and glanced at the assault-pattern Bolter. After its ammunition had been completely spent, it had still lived up to the mission it had been designed for. The Bolter's heavy feel made it very suitable as a blunt weapon. But now, it was more or less time for it to meet its end.

The metal stock was twisted out of shape, the barrel had bent, and the front sight on the rail had vanished without a trace.