We Need to Understand Our Opponent

But to Orks, that little damage was like being bitten by a mosquito.

They don't even slow down.

One Orks was hit in the eye by a laser, screamed and fell to the ground, and was trampled into a pulp by the Orks behind him.

One Orks was shot in the knee and fell to his knees, but immediately got up and continued to rush forward with a limp.

Another Orks's stomach was pierced by the laser, and its intestines slipped out of the wound. It looked down, stuffed the intestines back with its hands, and then continued to charge.

Duval emptied an energy pack and replaced it with another.

His tiger's mouth was open and blood was flowing down the handle of the gun, but he didn't stop.

His lips were moving. It was the prayer Imperial Cult. He had been reciting it for fifty years and it had become a muscle memory.

"Emperor, please accept our souls..."

Orks rushed to the defense line.

Duval grabbed the power dagger picked up from the ruins next to him. It was the only decent melee weapon on the planet.

Its power generator is broken and can only be used as an ordinary piece of iron.

But it's better than bare hands.

He rushed forward.

The dagger pierced the calf of one Orks. The Orks looked down and slapped Duval away.

Duval's body spun three or four times in the air before hitting a pile of rusted armor plates, and a mouthful of blood spurted out from his mouth.

He struggled to stand up, but his left leg no longer obeyed him.

The prosthetic leg fell off in the impact, and he is now left with only one leg.

He lay on the sand and looked at those Orks soldiers who were slaughtering him.

A young warrior was grabbed by his legs by Orks and torn in half.

Another warrior was trampled under the feet of the orcs, who used their power claws to twist off his head bit by bit.

Others were beaten into pieces by Orks's Bolter, with holes as big as the mouth of a bowl all over their bodies.

Duval closed his eyes.

He didn't want to see it.

Fifty years, he guarded this planet for fifty years.

He thought he would die here, lying quietly in the shack on a sandstorm night.

But now, he can only lie here, waiting to be trampled to death by Orks.

He didn't wait for Orks's feet.

The sky is dark.

It is not the darkness covered by the Orks battleship, but the darkness covered by a larger, denser, and more suffocating dark cloud.

The dark clouds spread from outside the atmosphere, covering the sky and the earth, like a giant network that was closing in.

It's not black, it's a sickly, stomach-churning dark green.

Duval opened his eyes.

He saw the dark clouds.

He saw a huge shadow looming in the dark clouds.

Those shadows have streamlined carapace and countless small, wriggling tentacles on their abdomens.

Their size is more than ten times larger than Orks's battleships, and their number is more than a hundred times greater than Orks's fleet.

His heartbeat quickened.

Not fear, but hope.

Imperial Fleet.

Imperium finally remembered them and finally sent someone to rescue them!

He struggled to get up from the sand, jumped on his only remaining leg, jumped to a higher ruins, and waved in the direction of the dark clouds.

"Here! We are here!"

His voice was hoarse and broke mid-sentence.

Tears welled up from his eyes, washing out two slender ravines on his dusty face.

Then, he saw it.

What fell in the dark clouds was not the Imperium battleship.

It's Tyranids.

Countless Tyranidss poured out from those huge Bio-ships, like waterfalls and heavy rain.

Their bodies drew dark green trails in the air, and their screams overwhelmed Orks's war cry, the roar of the sandstorm, and Duval's rapidly beating heart.

Termagant landed first.

They landed on six legs, carved out deep grooves in the sand, then ejected and pounced on the nearest Orks.

Their sickle-shaped forelimbs scratched across Orks's armor, the iron sheet was torn open, and the flesh and blood were dug out.

Orks screamed, waving its power claw and beating that Termagant into a pulp, but more Termagant had already pounced on it.

Hormagaunt follows closely behind.

They are twice as big as Termagant, covered with thick chitin carapace, and their two huge sickle-shaped forelimbs are enough to cut through any material.

They rushed into the Orks group like a hot knife cutting through butter. Wherever they passed, Orks's body was cut in half, cut into four pieces, and cut into pieces.

Those Orks didn't even have time to scream because their vocal cords had been severed.

Tyranid Warrior fell from the sky. They were three meters tall, walked upright, and held living biological weapons in their hands - some were barrels that could shoot bone spurs, some had glands that could spray acid, and some had arms sharper than Hormagaunt's scythe.

They are not in a hurry to charge, but stand on high ground and shoot those Orks who try to escape with bone spurs.

The bone spurs penetrated Orks's armor, penetrated their bodies, and pinned them to the sand.

Duval stood on the ruins, looking at all this, with his mouth open, but no sound came out.

His hope was shattered, even finer than the dust on that planet.

Then, he saw that figure.

It didn't jump off a battleship, but came out of the dark clouds.

The pace was neither urgent nor slow, and each step covered an extremely long distance. It only took less than three seconds to go from the bow of the ship to the atmosphere, and from the atmosphere to the ground.

It is about four and a half meters tall, with a slender and powerful body. Its whole body is covered with a dark green chitin carapace, with fine energy lines flowing on the surface of the carapace.

It held a huge sword in its hand, the blade of which was composed of countless tiny crystals that glowed with colorful light.

Swarm Prince.

It fell in front of the Orks war boss.

The four-meter-tall Orks monster, dressed in iron Power Armour, holding a power claw in one hand and Bolter in the other, looked so small and funny in front of Swarm Prince.

It looked up at Swarm Prince, fear appearing in its blood-red eyes for the first time.

It's not the fear of "I'm going to lose", but the fear of "where am I in the food chain?"

"Waa... Waaagh..." Its voice trembled, and the war cry that once made countless worlds fearful now turned into a vague murmur that sounded like a plea for mercy.

Swarm Prince lowered his head, staring at the war leader with his blue and white eyes.

The corners of its mouth were expressionless, but the slits in its eyes burned with a spine-chilling, cold light, like looking at a meal on a plate.

It stretched out its hand, the five fingers covered with carapace spread out, and grasped the head of the war leader.

Five fingers tightened at the same time.

The sound of the carapace breaking was clear and loud, and could be heard far away in the sandstorm.

The war leader's body froze, and the power claw slipped from his hand and hit the sand, throwing up a cloud of dust.

Its limbs hung down feebly and its mouth opened, trying to utter the last "Waaagh", but its vocal cords had been crushed.

Swarm Prince twisted the head from his neck.

The movement was very light, like twisting a bottle cap.

It raised its head in front of it, and the blue-white eye slits looked at the hollow eye sockets of the head for a second.

Then, it opened its mouth.

The mouth had no lips, only two rows of sharp, saw-like teeth.

It put the head into its mouth and bit into it.

The sound of chewing was very loud, the sound of bones breaking, brains popping, meat being stirred in the mouth...

All mixed together, they formed a sensation that made people feel numb, like the unique movement of some kind of giant reptile when it was eating.