Chapter 139: Living Towards Death

That Ork crashed straight into the spear tips that were close at hand. The sharp spearheads easily pierced into its flesh and blood, protruding from its back.

However, it felt nothing as it casually reached out and pinched the bloodstained grip of the spear that had pierced its body.

Its muscle-tangled arm bulged out even more under the force, and the hollow metal spear shaft was actually pinched into a palm print, then snapped directly under that inhuman force.

This Ork looked at the tribal people who were stunned by this unexpected situation, and laughed triumphantly.

Just as it wanted to take it a step further and crush the other party's head with its own hands, it suddenly felt as if it had grown taller.

Growing taller and bigger was certainly a good thing, but what made it a little puzzled was why it couldn't feel its body anymore?

When it re-captured its body in its field of vision, this Ork's simple consciousness finally understood what had just happened.

It was a shrimp of a human with huge, awesome iron hands, and flashing blinding golden light, standing next to its headless corpse.

It was Amilia.

She had finally entered the battlefield.

In her hands, she gripped a circular saw Servo-arm taken from the engineering machinery, which was disproportionately large for her body. The metal structure near her hand had been twisted into a spiral shape to facilitate gripping.

Although it could no longer be started, the size of this circular saw had reached the point where each Monomolecular Saw blade was comparable to a Monomolecular Saw dagger, which was completely sufficient for dealing with some infantry units.

And obviously, one Ork couldn't stop her.

After Amilia swung it like a wooden stick and took off the head of the first Ork to enter the formation, she directly used the Jump Pack to leap up and smash into the Ork horde.

What flew up with her landing was batches and batches of enemies.

Dozens of Orks lost their lives on the spot with each fall of the Servo-arm.

Those who were lucky were immediately torn in half by the saw blades, while those who were unlucky were hit by the metal arm, spitting out blood and flying backwards, smashing into the distance. Their strong vitality even allowed them to continue struggling for a good while in the case of ruptured internal organs and massive bleeding.

Allowing him to feel his comrades tearing off his limbs and bones beside him, and pairs of big feet stepping over his body, until every inch of his body was eaten or trampled to the point of exhaustion.

This battle, which did not require any regard for so-called skills, allowed Amilia's physical qualities to be brought to the maximum. The mechanical sound of the Power Armor operating at full load squeaked, and each swing of the weapon was with all her strength. The whistling of the wind and the sound of broken bones surpassed all war cries.

Such efficient killing even created a near-circular vacancy around her. Any Ork trying to approach the edge of this range would reappear in the form of minced meat, like meat thrown into a meat grinder.

Of course, she was not the only one who entered the battlefield at this critical moment. Although Heloise could not achieve such violent killing, the mobility given by the Jump Pack allowed her to shuttle through the enemy's sky, find those most conspicuous Ork Nobs below, and then descend from the sky and kill them.

The actions of just the two of them stabilized the originally crumbling front line again.

They simultaneously inspired the morale of both sides.

On the side of the formation, the tribal people listened to the sounds of the two performing their extraordinary slaughter, and the fear in their hearts was slightly alleviated. The Spear Wall, working with the Lasguns, became a little more neat again.

And on the Ork side, what was the way to prove that you were the coolest and most WAAAGH? Bullying thin human shrimp who can only tremble? That's just for fun. The real awesome battle is to find the biggest enemy and take off their head!

The strongest and largest Orks, regardless of whether it would disrupt the momentum of the charge or not, crazily poured towards the two with their Boyz.

In this case, not to mention that the original consistent charge was disrupted, the more critical thing was the gradually rising fanatical atmosphere.

Others dare to find the big guys of the other side to fight, wouldn't you be admitting that you are inferior to others if you don't dare?

Although they were just consumables used as cannon fodder, those who didn't have the guts to fight weren't even qualified to be consumables, and were generally reserved food in captivity.

The formation that should have been the main target of the impact was now reduced to a foil, and the pressure it suffered was greatly reduced.

As for the place where the two who had become the core were located, a strange scene appeared.

On Amilia's side, more and more Orks were rushing towards her, and as more Orks shared her strength, survivors gradually appeared under the swing.

These lucky ones were caught by a pair of raised hands, and then thrown back and forth over the heads of countless Orks.

They let out bursts of happy laughter, and some of the survivors who barely broke free from the hands that were grabbing them even began to dance on the heads of other Orks, waving their arms.

As for Heloise's side, because she selected those Orks who seemed to be the most threatening without concealment, the other Orks gradually realized this after repeated precise kills.

Below, those big Orks began to taunt and show off, wanting to become the next "Ork who looks the most threatening."

If someone was really selected, it meant that he was considered by the enemy to be the most awesome of the surrounding Orks. Even if his head would fly up immediately after, the surrounding Ork Boyz would still not hesitate to cheer and shout.

Of course, even so, the situation facing the formation was not very optimistic.

Temporary stabilization was exchanged for constantly rising casualties.

Those Orks who were either impatient or felt that they couldn't grab it were still pouring towards the tribal people's formation.

A Lasgun that was enough to easily take the life of a normal person could only bite off a charred gap in their bodies. Some Orks could even take a dozen shots before slowly falling to the ground.

The spears that were wielded basically only had a delaying effect. A small hole that pierced through their bodies couldn't even be called a serious injury. An even more effective use of the spear became using the spearhead to jam the other party's ribs, then resting the end of the spear on the ground to prevent them from continuing to approach, and finally having the Lasgunners solve the problem.

The deterioration of the situation was revealed in a straightforward way after the white fog blocking the view dissipated.

The Walkers who had lost their protection were pushed down and smashed one by one by the swarming Boyz. As the killing efficiency of the three Walker groups gradually decreased, more and more Orks poured towards the formation.

And after witnessing the endless green tide, the remaining surviving tribal people finally had someone whose nerves, which had been stretched to the limit, completely broke, and threw down their weapons with distorted expressions, trying to escape.

———— 🌟🌟 ————

ps:Support and join my Patreon

 patreon.c@om/chenc11 [Remove @]

 You can read up to 40 premium chapters.