"Go to hell! You filthy beast!"
At point-blank range, Mountbatten fired his pistol wildly, but the big brute seemed completely unharmed and merely roared at him.
This Ork stood twice his height, driven mad by the sight of blood, its body wreathed in heat haze and electromagnetic fire.
Mountbatten drew his saber and began rolling his wrist.
The Ork swung a massive claw at him. The general ducked beneath it and slashed at its abdomen with his blade.
But unfortunately, the beast felt nothing.
With one blow of its huge claw, it snapped Mountbatten's saber and threw it aside. Mountbatten was knocked to the ground by the sudden impact.
"General!"
The hunter-killer squad tried to rush over, but other Orks intercepted them.
The big brute trudged forward and raised its giant claw.
"Hm?"
The next second, blood spattered across Mountbatten's face. The Ork's knees trembled, then it crashed heavily down beside the commander.
The impact seemed to have loosened something. The Ork's head slid from the horrific gash in its neck and rolled to Mountbatten's hand.
A black shadow loomed before Mountbatten. Residual energy still clung to the absurdly enormous claw blades on his wrists as he extended a black armored fist toward him.
Mountbatten found it difficult to summon the courage to take that fist. This was a stranger, clad in unfamiliar black armor.
"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Mountbatten."
The savior's first words carried a hint of teasing. Mountbatten could tell from the voice that he was a middle-aged man.
"Who are you?"
"Me? You can call me Wayne, or... they also like to call me the Black Knight. It doesn't really matter."
"I don't know you, and you don't seem to belong here either."
"That's right, but someone invited me here and asked me to protect you."