"For the Emperor!" The remnants of the Last Bastion charged into battle with the Orks of Emperor's Word Plaza—Happy Music District.
Dressed in strange clothes and wielding weapons resembling musical instruments, the Orks played at them, bobbing their heads as the "weapons" in their hands produced a cacophony of noise.
The commissar had no idea what the Orks were doing, but he did not care. As far as he was concerned, maintaining his hatred for xenos was enough. Nothing else mattered.
He sawed an Ork and its weapon in half with his chainsword, then raised his hand and emptied his bolt pistol's magazine, blasting apart the heads of four Orks.
"Tch." He clicked his tongue in guilt. He had wasted one sacred round of the Emperor's ammunition, and that filled him with remorse. But the Schola Progenium had taught him something.
One's incompetence had to be washed away with blood a hundred, a thousand times over.
And that was exactly what he intended to do.
Dovell followed the veteran, covering his movements. Though they spoke little, their coordination was flawless. A single glance at the other's actions was enough to know what he intended to do.
"The commissar's really amazing." This was Dovell's first time seeing a commissar fight. He had thought the fierce-looking commissar in the Last Bastion was just some arrogant man throwing his rank around.
Unexpectedly, he truly possessed outstanding combat ability. His chainsword could not only block Ork attacks, but also keep him from giving ground even half a step in the clash. Then he would draw his pistol and put two shots into the Ork's chest.
He cleared out the Orks with ruthless efficiency. The disgust on his face was unmistakable, while his soaring battle cries displayed boundless fighting spirit and a loyal heart.
He