After the brutal battle, the squad reached the sedimentation tanks near the sewage treatment plant. Desmond slumped against a moss-covered concrete step with the other soldiers. They only had a few brief minutes to rest before moving toward the power station again.
Gunfire rang out elsewhere as well, drawing some of the Greenskins' attention. The Greenskins around them vanished all at once.
Desmond looked utterly wretched, mainly because the explosion had left him dazed and disoriented. The other Green Devils had sealed off the area and were scavenging trophies.
"What do you want?"
Captain Wild Boar asked Desmond as he turned away.
Desmond looked back and saw him sawing the huge head off an Ork corpse with a serrated dagger.
"What?"
"An ear? A tooth? You earned it."
Desmond's stomach suddenly churned.
Foul-smelling Greenskin pus flowed from the cut Wild Boar was working on, gathering on the water's surface like an oily film.
"Don't make a mistake now, Priest."
Another man spoke in a low voice, addressing Desmond by his new nickname. He did indeed look rather like a priest.
"A mistake?"
"Wild Boar is giving you a trophy. It's an honor, an honor of the Green Devils. Don't refuse it."
"All right, a tooth."
Desmond said, turning to look at the Butcher.
"Fine."
Wild Boar agreed.
"He had sharp eyes just now. He spotted them first."
The others snorted as they watched their captain dig in with his blade.
"Sharp eyes? So that's his new nickname? Sharp-Eyed Priest!"
The others burst into laughter.
"Uh..."
Soon, the captain handed Desmond the trophy.
The thing was strung on a long Greenskin blood vessel stained black with dried blood, swaying like an ornament.
Desmond could not refuse. He took it and tied it to his dog tags.
After that, every step he