The time to counterattack had come.
Outside the T'au fortress, the "remaining" Gretchin troops, fewer than two million fighters, had finished assembling.
They looked more wretched than ever. Many were wrapped in bandages, and many wore broken, incomplete armor. The weapons in their hands were a motley assortment: T'au Pulse Rifles, Ork choppas, and even a massive wrench.
Yet their "morale" had never been so "high."
"For the Big Boss!"
"To avenge our fallen brothers!"
"Charge! Bite those big bugs to death!"
Their cries were chaotic and deafening, filled with the madness of those who had to face death to find a chance at life.
On the fortress walls, Suisxing, Qingliu, and every T'au officer still able to stand watched in silence.
"They... are true warriors," Qingliu murmured, wiping tears from the corners of her eyes.
Suisxing said nothing. He only tightened his grip on his Pulse Rifle. He had already decided that once the Gretchin charge gave him an opening, he would complete the decapitation strike as quickly as possible. Then, whatever the cost, he would return and save as many of these honorable allies as he could.
"Big Boss's Wrath... final volley!"
As a shrill horn sounded from the Gretchin positions, that familiar storm of steel rose once more from behind the distant valley, blotting out the sky.
Millions of rockets trailed long tongues of flame as they hurtled toward the area where the Broodlord lay, utterly disorderly yet magnificent in their momentum.
This time, the explosions seemed far weaker than before, and the impacts were more scattered. To the T'au, this was because the Gretchin were running short on ammunition and had launched in haste.
Yet this "feeble" bombardment still carved a relatively sparse passage through the tightly packed swarm and successfully enraged the guards protecting the