Warhammer 40K in a box

Chapter 330 Oklin Dragon
The entire battlefield presented a strange dual rhythm: the biting cold wind, carrying gunpowder smoke, raged across the icy plains, while the retreating Astragalus troops and the advancing armored columns moved in crisscrossing patterns amidst the swirling snow.

The wounded soldiers, dragging their broken bodies, helped each other as they trudged through the frozen ground toward the transport ship, the bloodstains on their bandages freezing into dark red ice crystals in the low temperature.

Meanwhile, fully armed armored soldiers were advancing against the flow of people to the front line. The tracks of the Leman Rustank crushed the corpses of orcs and the bones of their comrades on the battlefield, pressing broken skulls and frozen limbs deep into the permafrost. Ice shards, congealed with blood foam, kept falling from the gaps in the tracks.

The retreating Astragalus Army and the steel torrent briefly clashed in the blizzard, their soldiers staring at each other silently through their frosted goggles.

The new recruits saw the tank crewman's oil-stained face with a scar running from his brow bone to his jaw, and the armored soldiers saw the girl in the transport convoy crying while holding her comrade's severed limbs—everyone's lips were trembling from the cold, yet they all understood the resolute determination forged in the crucible of hardship in each other's eyes.

For a moment, the only sounds on the ice field were the low growl of engines and the muffled thud of tracks crushing flesh and bone—sounds more exhilarating than any pre-battle mobilization.

As the vanguard company of the 7th Armored Regiment broke through the snow, the fierce battle outside the ruins unfolded like a hellish scroll.

The knight mechs' molten cannons traced blazing white trails through the blizzard, melting the charging killing canisters into molten iron, but more green-skinned war machines were pouring out of the ice crevices.

Suddenly, the entire ice field trembled violently, and the vanguard tank at the forefront of the company braked sharply, causing the gunner to crash into the sights while still inertia.

The ice 300 meters away suddenly shattered, and a colossal Sgughorn, as large as a mountain, burst out of the ice. Its skin, covered with tumor-like protrusions, was covered with metal armor, and each of its claws was comparable to the power sword in Astartes' hand.

The behemoth casually stomped on a killing machine, turning it into scrap metal, and the acid it spewed corroded the ice, creating a boiling crater.

All the greenskins instantly went into a frenzy, their eyes bursting with crimson light. As they chanted "Waaaagh!" in unison, they charged even more fiercely at the Imperial army's defenses, simultaneously shouting a name in Orcish.

The knight's mech's ion shield flickered violently amidst the roar of Sguger, while the armored company's gunners trembled as they pushed armor-piercing shells into the breech.

The power emanating from this behemoth was so immense that it caused everyone's hearts to tremble.

(The Great Skug, about the same size as Lemanrus, is the smallest of the Skug.)
(The ancient giant Sgug, comparable to a small Titan like a warhound)

(Size comparison between the Skullg behemoth and a regular orc unit)
On the back of this colossal Skull, comparable to the ancient giant, stood a terrifying figure that chilled the hearts of all Imperial soldiers!
It stands nearly seven meters tall, more than twice the size of an ordinary orc warrior. Its bulging muscles swell beneath its rough orc power armor, and every plate is covered with menacing spikes and rivets.

Its left arm is equipped with a huge power claw, the serrated metal claw still bearing traces of undried blood, and occasionally bursting with blinding arcs of electricity.

His right arm held a terrifying combination gun, with a dozen crude barrels roughly welded together, the muzzle flashing an unstable green light, as if it could overload and explode at any moment.

When it stepped onto Sgug's back and let out a deafening roar, the surrounding orc boys instantly went berserk. They raised their crude weapons high, roared "WAAAGH!" and their eyes burned with fanatical fighting spirit.

Judging from the commotion it caused upon its appearance and the absolute obedience of the surrounding orcs, this behemoth is undoubtedly the ruler of all the greenskins on this planet—the Warboss of this planet!

When the images from the battlefield were transmitted back to the warship in orbit, Chen Xi couldn't help but spit out, "Damn it! Even the Oklin Dragons have come out, what other monsters and demons are on this planet!"

(Orklin Dragon, a Titan-class behemoth of the Orcs) (Orklin Dragon and the Skullg Behemoth)
The so-called Oklin Dragon is the largest and most terrifying subspecies of Skullg in the orc society, and can be called a living war fortress.

These monsters, carefully bred by the quack doctor Pig B, are far larger than ordinary Skullg behemoths. Their shoulder height alone is comparable to that of an Imperial Titan, and their weight is measured in thousands of tons.

Their rough skin is covered with a thick layer of keratin, and the surface is inlaid with rusty metal armor plates, which are less for protection and more to make the behemoth more destructive when it charges.

These terrifying behemoths are not natural creations, but war monsters bred using insane technology by those eccentric young men known as "pig-b quacks" in the barbaric greenskin society.

These behemoths were both mobile fortresses for the tribe, carrying the tribe's weapons and equipment, and the most terrifying heavy war beasts, capable of unleashing bloodshed on the battlefield.

Their rough skin is covered with thick metal armor plates, each plate covered with spikes and rivets, and they make a deafening roar when they walk.

The orcish techmasters built rudimentary war platforms on their backs, mounting various crudely made but incredibly powerful cannons to provide fire support for the charging greenskins.

On the battlefield, the Oklin Dragon is like a moving hill. Its huge feet can crush an entire infantry squad into mincemeat with each stomp, and its curved fangs, like battle knives, can easily pierce the side armor of armored vehicles.

The shockwaves they generated during their charge were so powerful that they could overturn light vehicles, and the battlefield was littered with the wreckage of Imperial military equipment crushed by them.

Those soldiers who tried to stop them were often crushed into a bloody pulp before they could even scream.

However, now, this behemoth, carrying a seemingly incredibly powerful warboss, is charging towards the Imperial Army's position.

The orc general, whose size rivaled that of a fearless mech, stood on the back of the Oklin dragon, wielding his massive power claws and unleashing a deafening battle roar.

It was covered in heavy armor pieced together from scrap iron and armor plates, with each metal plate painted in red, a symbol of carnage.

The green-skinned lads, seemingly capable of filling mountains and seas, followed behind it, charging forward with a deafening roar. Their crude weapons gleamed coldly in the sunlight, and their battle cries shook the entire icy plains.

At this moment, the Imperial Army's defensive line was extremely precarious, as if it would be swallowed up by the green tide at any moment.

The soldiers gripped their weapons tightly, their faces filled with despair as they watched the approaching green tide grow ever stronger.

But at this critical moment, the imperial knights stationed outside the ancient ruins quickly formed ranks and launched a counterattack against the green tide!

These noble war machines deployed ion shields, and their molten cannons and combat cannons fired simultaneously, blasting fiery breaches through the green tide.

The banners of the knightly families fluttered in the cold wind as they shouted their oaths to the Emperor and charged headlong into the terrifying Oklin dragon.

(End of this chapter)