Bruce could hear the sounds of slaughter.
He could distinguish them clearly, as though reading a score before him. He knew the distinctly different battle cries of the Orks, and the obvious difference between volleys supporting an assault wave and those defending a fortification.
The church Mountbatten had assigned him to defend was wholly unsuitable for great warriors making a last stand.
Not long ago, it had been a refuge for civilians, but now its makeshift defenses had become the sole defensive line against Lin Yu's overwhelmingly advantaged Ork legion.
"Sounds pretty bad."
A Shadow Blade crouched beside the church's narrow window frame, his helmet reflecting a cold gleam.
"They might break through."
"Our Wizard friends can handle them for the moment."
Bruce sneered.
"That Ork warlord just wants to take a few more heads, nothing else... Can you hear it?"
The man tilted his head and listened intently.
Their hearing, like all their other senses, had been enhanced, but this Shadow Blade seemed unable to understand what Bruce meant.
"Hear what, sir?"
"Chainsaw axes. But they aren't cutting steel or other weapons. They're cutting stone and metal. The Orks can't get past those barricades quickly, so they're trying to hack a path through the ruins."
The man immediately nodded in agreement.
"General Mountbatten knows what he's doing. Orks only know one way to fight. We can use that."
Bruce frowned at the praise for Mountbatten. It was the failures of these so-called generals that had dragged the situation step by step into the abyss. They were the ones who should have been held accountable for this war, yet now they were hailed as saviors.
He cast aside his bitter expression and gazed through the church window at the square below, littered with charred ruins.
Miraculously, the church windows were