After the equipment upgrades, the lasguns of the Ultramar Auxilia were no longer mere flashlights.
A charged laser shot that had built up for over three seconds could pierce the more vulnerable parts of Astartes ceramite armor. Even the instant-fire sweeping mode was enough to punch a charred hole straight through a frail human body.
The enemy's mortal auxiliaries were scarcely better than ragged mobs. They roared and screamed, clutching dangerous weapons, yet wore no decent armor.
"Just a bunch of cannon fodder."
The 627th Company's auxiliary captain spoke disdainfully. He touched the fine carapace armor on his body. The matte metal alloy gave him a powerful sense of security—cold, yet reliable enough.
A World Eaters veteran charging at the very front wielded a screaming chainaxe. His Butcher's Nails buzzed within his skull, a crude imitation of a creation from the distant Dark Age of Technology, exhilarated by the slaughter on the battlefield.
They even took the initiative to lessen their devastation of the World Eater's neural system, allowing him to remain in peak condition and better display his tactical abilities.
The World Eater's eyes were blood-red. He used his massive pauldron to block the incoming stray shots. The curved ceramite design had been almost foolproof in the past; the vast majority of solid ammunition and even energy beams would deflect off the shoulder armor, while the remaining force was enough for the ceramite to withstand.
"Die! Die! Die!"
A bloodthirsty roar leaked through his clenched teeth. He bit his tongue until it bled, savoring the taste of his own blood as he lunged toward the nearby position.
As long as he broke into the position, those lowly mortals would have no chance of resisting a mighty World Eater in close combat.
Neural reaction speeds several times faster than those