I summoned the Fourth Scourge in Warhammer

Chapter 21: The Cultists' Calm Retreat Displays the Demeanor of a Great Cult; The Astral Army's Disheveled Pursuit Cannot Conceal the Empire's Decline.
boom--! ! !
An unprecedented, earth-shattering roar instantly swallowed up all other sounds on the battlefield.

A blinding white light suddenly erupted from the blast site, like a miniature sun rising in the center of the position. Following closely behind was a devastating shockwave. The surrounding ruins, whether the original walls of the hive or the makeshift shelters and fortifications erected by the players for the battle, were as fragile as paper before this brute force, easily torn apart, blown away, and collapsed.

Players within a hundred meters were all thrown off balance by the terrifying shockwave, some falling over and others crashing to the ground.

Those who were further away felt as if their eardrums had been pierced by a red-hot iron rod, and they couldn't help but grimace in pain, their minds filled with a buzzing roar.

Those who were closer fared much worse. They were tossed high into the air and slammed back down, their blood staining the ground before them, feeling as if countless bones in their bodies were broken. Several severely wounded players lay on the ground, too weak to even howl, only weakly pleading, "Quick...give me a shot..."

Fortunately, despite the heavy friendly fire, no one seemed to be cursing the "ruthless Assassins." After all, in this game, the penalty for character death is far less severe than the penalty for damaged equipment. One player struggled to his feet, immediately checking his laser gun and body armor. Finding only a few scratches, he breathed a long sigh of relief: "Thank goodness, my equipment is alright..."

Bulletproof armor and laser guns are indeed much more resistant to pure shrapnel and shockwave damage than flesh and blood.

As for the Assassins and the Chaos Wizard Elias, who were located at the very center of the explosion?

In such a devastating suicide attack, naturally not even a trace of recognizable remains remained.

The purple psionic flames that filled the battlefield dissipated completely with Elias's annihilation.

The cultists lying on the ground first raised their heads in terror, and then they found that the chilling psionic pressure that had been pressing down on their hearts had vanished. They could no longer see the high and mighty wizard who had treated their lives like dirt.

The supreme commander and the highest military deterrent are gone.

The deathly silence lasted only a few seconds.

"He's dead! That wizard is dead!"

Someone shouted first, and then, the will to survive erupted completely. The cultists no longer had any scruples; they scrambled to their feet, threw down their weapons, and fled for their lives. At that moment, the organization completely collapsed.

Meanwhile, the supervisory team on the high ground behind them hesitated briefly as they watched the dark mass of defeated people rushing down.

"Boss, should we... should we stop them?" a supervising officer asked in a trembling voice.

The scarred-faced warlord spat fiercely, shoved the heavy logging rifle off the tripod, and hoisted it onto his shoulder: "Stop them my ass! Lord Elias is gone, and we, with only a hundred or so men and a few dozen guns, are we supposed to stop these thousands of fleeing soldiers? Are we courting death?!"

He looked around and lowered his voice, "Life is so good, I haven't lived enough yet! Run!"

At a single command, the supervisory team, which had just been slaughtering the fleeing soldiers, joined the escape without hesitation. In fact, because they were at the back, they ended up at the front of the main force.

On the battlefield, the players watched as the cultists fled in disarray, like a receding tide, but their faces showed no joy of victory; instead, they were lost in a strange bewilderment.

One player stared blankly at the empty center of the explosion, finally unable to hold back and shouting out everyone's thoughts: "Dude, you're dead already?! What about the second phase?!"

The player community immediately erupted in chaos.

"No? That's it?!"

"Damn it! I just finished warming up! I just bought a dueling sword and was ready to go and hack him to pieces!" "What happened to the promised day-long bloodbath? Where did my merit points go?! Assassin, you bastard, give me back my BOSS!"

"I'm so angry! My achievements are still a long way off! Everyone, let's catch up!"

At the call to action, more than a dozen players who hadn't earned enough battle merits and felt their monsters had been "stolen" jumped out of the trenches in a fit of rage, grabbing their guns and giving chase.

Thus, on the battlefield amidst the ruins of Lower Nest, a wondrous sight was born, one that would be etched into the annals of Peditia:

Thousands of Chaos cultists fled in disarray ahead, their heads in their hands; while a dozen soldiers dressed in Imperial Astral Army uniforms pursued them relentlessly from behind.

As for the other players remaining on the position, they were quickly subdued by their nominal company commander, Ruan Wenbo.

"Stop right there!" Ruan Wenbo roared at the group of restless players, his face flushed red. "The mission requirement is to [hold the position]! If you all run away and no one is left to guard this place, the system will determine the mission as a failure, and that will be a real mess!"

This bucket of cold water instantly calmed most of the players down.

"Fuck, I forgot about it."

"Damn, I almost got carried away."

"What about the dozen or so people who chased after them?"

"Forget about them, let them draw fire. We'll defend our base and wait for the system to declare victory. We'll get every single point of merit."

After a highly realistic discussion, the players on the battlefield quickly reached a consensus, reverted to a defensive stance, and began cleaning up the battlefield to see if they could find any "relics" from the center of Elias's self-destruction.

On the other side of the battlefield, the fleeing cultists didn't think so much. Their survival instinct drove them to run towards the place with the most people, because in their simple mind, a place with many people meant safety and protection.

Thus, driven by a dozen or so players, these thousands of defeated soldiers, like startled bulls with their tails set on fire, charged straight toward the main attack direction of the cultists' offensive—the flank of the main position guarded by the Imperial Astral Army's main force.

This led to a darkly humorous scene reminiscent of the Fire Bull charge from the Warhammer 40K era.

Thousands of mentally broken cultists formed the charging "herd," while a dozen or so players, howling and demanding their credits, served as the "shepherds" driving them from the rear. Like a scalding dagger, they plunged viciously into the flank of the cult army fiercely attacking the main position!
"Ahhh! Don't come here!"

"There's a monster behind us! Run!"

"They killed the wizard!"

Panic is contagious. The cultists who were attacking had no idea what was happening. They only saw their comrades crying and rushing in from the flanks and rear, breaking their formation into pieces. Then, they heard a burst of laser gun fire and excited shouts from the players behind them.

Chaos, like a plague, began to spread uncontrollably.

(End of this chapter)