The suffocating silence was shattered.
In the distance, the sole remaining Rangdan Overlord finally committed its sharpest claws after witnessing its companion's destruction and its elite troops' setback.
With a silent psychic shriek that pierced the soul, more than thirty white figures radiating powerful energy fluctuations surged forward under the Overlord's command, like ghosts suddenly emerging from the shadows.
This time, there was no probing, no expenditure of cannon fodder. This was a true assault to the death, elite against elite, intended to crush the Defense Line utterly.
The thirty-odd Rangdan Elite warriors moved swiftly and in coordination, maintaining perfect tactical spacing as psychic shields rippled faintly over their bodies.
Their objective was clear: break through this unusually resilient Defense Line built by mortal scum, tear apart the Commander who had killed their fellow Overlord, and cleanse this entire area.
Facing this battered Skull Regiment force, now reduced to a few thousand soldiers, the Rangdan Elites showed no carelessness. They now regarded these humans as opponents who demanded their full strength and attention.
The pressure crashed down on every Skull Regiment soldier's heart like a solid hammer.
"Now! Activate every prepositioned Tarantula turret! All guns, open fire!" Warren's roar exploded over the communications channel. His voice was even hoarser after his frantic sprint and the fierce fighting, but carried unquestionable resolve.
Almost simultaneously, he shouted to every soldier within earshot, "Everyone! Fix Bayonets!"
Clack! Clack! Clack!
A dense chorus of cold, hard metallic clicks rang out behind the barricades.
Whether they carried Lasguns, Autoguns, or shotguns, the surviving Skull Regiment soldiers almost simultaneously locked gleaming bayonets into the lugs beneath their muzzles.
They knew full well that Bayonets might do little against Rangdan carapaces, but they would still fight to the death without retreating.
"They're coming!"
A soldier lying behind