"Me? Who's that?"
Ragnar, returning to camp after completing his mission, asked softly.
"You know?"
Sergeant Terk, who was busy opening a packet of rations nearby, shrugged.
"Someone."
He answered with a low grunt.
"You're damn useful, you know that?"
Ragnar replied, punching Terk's arm. The other man gave his captain a weary look.
"A volunteer, apparently... from the Benedict Empire."
"Whose?"
"The colonel's attendant."
The Green Devils had arrived at the outpost at Site 23 an hour earlier. It had once been an old brick-and-stone church, but was now a military stronghold.
Site 23 was a strategic position recaptured from the Orks a week ago, only eight kilometers from the main urban area. The outpost had once been part of the noose the Orks had tightened around the city, and for now, that noose had been loosened.
But that did not mean things would stay that way for long. The Orks would inevitably attack this lost stronghold again, and more fiercely than before.
That was why Ragnar's squad had come to help defend it, only twenty hours after finishing their last mission.
Still, something about today made him curious. The six-year veteran, a solidly built warrior, leaned out from the porch of the temporary barracks and looked down the red-brick path.
At the end of the path lay the church's central courtyard. He could see the newcomer talking with Horna and several of her subordinates.
The newcomer was tall, but his proportions were strange, his limbs somewhat longer than normal.
The mysterious man wore a dark gray robe and a mask, with a dust-covered sniper rifle slung across his shoulder.
"He's fucking huge, but kind of skinny."
Ragnar said, absentmindedly fiddling with the Greenskin fang hanging from his necklace.
"Quit staring."
Terk mumbled through a mouthful of rations.
"I