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Chapter 74 Outpost Battle

The vanguard motorcycle force of the Evil Sun Clan arrived quickly, but the result was not good.

The first row of combat motorcycles twisted their throttles and plunged into the obstacle course, with the lead, a blood-red modified motorcycle, crashing right into a metal beam stuck diagonally in the sand.

The unfortunate man's motorcycle suddenly lurched downwards, the rear half of the motorcycle lifting up. The rider was propelled out by the inertia, tumbling several times in the air, his arms flailing wildly. Before he could even finish shouting "Waaaaaagh," he landed in a perfect prostrate position on the stone ground dozens of meters away, creating a human-shaped crater.

The rider of the second motorcycle following closely behind watched helplessly as the motorcycle in front flipped over, but did not step on the brakes, because releasing the throttle was not an action in the operation dictionary of Xie Ri riders. They usually removed the brakes and modified the throttle power to the maximum.

The front wheel got stuck between two sections of cross-welded tracks, and then the whole motorcycle swung to the right. The speedster on it was also thrown off the motorcycle, head down, and stuck in a pile of wrecked tires. His two thick green legs were sticking up in the air, and he pedaled twice, then twice more.

The third one, the fourth one—

The obstacle course was filled with a cacophony of sounds: motorcycle debris, orcs thrown into the air, tumbling tires, and broken metal parts all tangled together.

Rhodes stood on the high platform watching this farce, his lips twitching slightly as he looked away from the battlefield.

However, these green-skinned creatures are truly resilient.

Those evil sun orcs who were thrown out rolled on the ground a few times, but one by one they got up. The one who stood up first, face down, shook the sand off his face, snorted out two streams of dust from his nostrils, cursed something, and bent down to pick up the weapon that had been thrown out of his hand.

The one whose head was stuck in the pile of tires was pulled out by its companion. Its neck tilted for a moment and then straightened. It spat out a tooth and half a mouthful of sand, howled, and then charged forward. Even the one that had overturned in the ditch crawled out from under the motorcycle wreckage and limped toward the defensive line, but its speed was actually faster.

Although these Evil Sun Infantrymen no longer had motorcycles, they were still quite fast on foot, howling as they charged towards Blood Axe's defensive line.

Snagrim raised his bolter and aimed it at the lead orc boy, the Fel Sun Orc.

"superior."

He didn't say a single extra word.

An uproar erupted simultaneously behind the obstacle course. The lids of the metal buckets were blown off from the inside, slamming into another metal bucket next to them with a bang and bouncing off.

From the gaps in the tire tower, a dozen large green hands holding pistols simultaneously emerged. The flashes of gun muzzles lit up the obstacle course, and a dense hail of bullets poured down from all directions, colliding head-on with the group of unsteady Evil Sun infantry. The first few orc lads were riddled with bullet holes, staggered forward a couple of steps, and collapsed to the ground with their knees buckling.

The ones behind instinctively scattered to the sides to find cover, but the obstacle zone was full of Blood Axe's ambush points. Just as they hid behind an iron barrel, a metal plate popped open from the barrel wall, and a burst of bullets shot straight at their faces.

The advance infantry were trapped in the middle of the obstacle zone, unable to advance or retreat.

But this was only the vanguard of the Evil Sun Clan. The real pressure was mounting from behind.

The evil sun's heavy tanks and large combat trucks completely ignored the makeshift roadblocks in front of them. The red front shovels directly rammed into the metal posts, uprooting them.

A combat truck's front scoop scooped up an entire pile of tires, throwing the Bloodaxe orc inside, who was still firing, into the air. The Bloodaxe kid even instinctively pulled the trigger in mid-air, but the bullet missed, and then he and the tires crashed into the back of the truck.

Another, larger war machine ran directly over the two iron barrels, its tracks crushing them into flat discs. Fortunately, the Bloodaxe Orc inside had rolled out through a gap in the side beforehand, but the turret he had spent months saving up to buy remained inside, turning into scrap metal along with the barrel.

The truck bed was filled with excited, crazed Evil Sun Orc boys, who were waving their machetes and howling as they watched the metal barrels and tires being knocked into the air and then falling back down.

"Run these cowards over! Step on the gas! Step on it again! Don't let go!"

Snagrim's face darkened, and he was about to order the ambushing orc boys to concentrate their firepower on the cockpit.

A blue projectile flew out from the shadow of the rocks on the side of the hill.

There was no sound, no exhaust flame, only an almost invisible arc that landed precisely on the heavy tank charging at the front.

There was no explosion.

A pale blue arc of electricity silently spread from the point of impact, rapidly extending along the metal shell of the tank and seeping into every crevice. The tank's engine spun a few more times before shutting down completely.

The second bullet struck the side of the combat truck that followed closely behind, and the same blue arc of electricity seeped into the control circuitry. The speedster on top also floored the accelerator pedal, but there was no response. The truck slid for another ten meters or so due to inertia before slowly coming to a stop.

The pilots of the evil sun in the cockpit were completely dumbfounded.

They frantically pulled the control lever, left and right, stepped on the accelerator, released it and stepped on it again, smashed the instrument panel with their fists, shattering several indicator lights of unknown purpose, not caring about the glass shards flying all over their faces.

"Move! Move it for me!"

The orc boys in the wagon panicked and began to try to solve the problem in the simplest way possible.

A dozen large feet simultaneously pounded on various parts of the truck bed, causing the sheet metal to thud and swell. One orc even jumped off the truck, lifted the hood, and started slapping the dark machinery inside.

"Who stepped on the brakes!"

"We didn't apply the brakes!"

"Then why did it stop!"

"How am I supposed to know why it stopped! Ask it!"

The driver of the foremost heavy tank was so angry that he climbed out of the cockpit, stood on the roof, and kicked his own vehicle several times. With the last kick, he kicked off the armor plate, exposing the wiring inside, which was still crackling with faint blue arcs of electricity.

It stared at the arcs of electricity for two seconds, its anger turning into confusion, and then back into even greater anger.

"Which bastard wrecked my car! I'm going to twist its head off and use it as a headlight!"

Those evil sun orc boys finally gave up on this problem that was beyond their comprehension.

They climbed over the railing and got off the vehicle, grabbing machetes, iron bars, and several rifles with bent magazines, and howled towards the Blood Axe defense line.

The car broke down? It must have been those cowards Blood Axe who did it! Who cares how it happened? Just rush over and chop them all down. The first Evil Sun Orc who charged out of the disabled chariot hadn't gone far when a thumb-sized hole appeared in the middle of his head.

There were no gunshots.

Or rather, there was almost nothing, only a very faint and short muffled sound, like someone flicking a fingernail hundreds of meters away, completely drowned out by the sandstorm and the lingering hum of the engine.

The orc's body remained in a forward-leaning charging posture. Its legs propelled it a couple more steps before its knees buckled, and it fell face-first into the sand. The machete in its hand flew out and clattered into an empty iron barrel next to it.

The second one fell down immediately afterward, its skull pierced through the side.

The bullets were so precise that every single one landed on the skull, with a deviation of no more than two fingers' width.

The orc boys began to fall in droves between the roadblocks, angrily scanning left and right, trying to find the direction from which to fire, but there was nothing to be seen on the hills.

There was no muzzle flash, no reflection, no shadow of any living thing; only bullets flying from the void as if they had eyes.

An orc fired an entire magazine in the direction of the rock he found suspicious. The bullets hit the empty rock face, sending up a pile of rubble, but nothing was hit.

The response was a 25mm anti-personnel bullet that pierced its temple.

The C10 barrel rifle's silencer reduces the sound of firing to almost zero, while the refractive nanofiber bodysuit allows the shooter to blend completely into the shadows of the hilly rocks.

The helmet's built-in auto-aiming system constantly adjusts for air pressure, wind speed, and the planet's subtle Coriolis effect, ensuring that every bullet lands precisely in its intended location. For the Imperial Ghost, this kind of fixed-target shooting at such a distance is hardly a warm-up.

In less than five minutes, all the infantrymen in the advance convoy were lying on the ground in the obstacle course, scattered haphazardly among the vehicles disabled by EMP.

Snagrim looked up from behind the scope of his bolter and glanced at the eerily quiet shadows of the hills.

There was nothing there.

Its small eyes under the brim of its hat narrowed, and it swallowed back the words that were about to come out.

The silence didn't last long.

The dust wall on the horizon surged up again, thicker and higher than the previous wave, the sand and dust being crushed into a gray-yellow curtain that stretched across the field of vision, rising more than twenty meters from the ground. The roar of engines rolled in from behind the dust wall, not just one or two, but dozens of heavy armored vehicles.

The leader of the evil army finally arrived with the main force convoy.

The lead, blood-red heavy combat truck smashed through the wreckage left by the advance team, its front shovel turning a broken-down motorcycle into scrap metal.

The foreman stood on a makeshift command platform welded onto the vehicle roof, the headlight lenses behind his welding goggles flashing a dark red light. He glanced down at the scattered corpses of the advance troops and the broken-down vehicles.

"Charge! Anyone who stops, I'll run them over myself!"

He drew his machete from his waist and pointed it forward. Dozens of vehicles behind him simultaneously floored their accelerators, their exhaust pipes spewing out thick black fumes. A red torrent of steel swept over the wreckage of the advance team and rushed toward the defensive line.

Snagrim gripped the handle of the bolter tightly.

This time, the electromagnetic pulse was not enough, and the firepower of the Blood Axe alone could not stop this convoy of this size from charging head-on.

Heavy metallic footsteps echoed from behind the hills.

Not just one, but several.

A giant bipedal mech stepped out from a crevice in the rocks behind the Blood Axe camp. With each step, cracks appeared in the ground beneath its feet.

This mech is painted a striking yellow. The multi-barreled, deadly assault cannon on its chest is spinning and preheating. The enormous power claw at the end of its right arm opens and closes, emitting a clicking metallic scraping sound. This is the Fearless, the green-skinned mech that symbolizes bravery, fearlessness, and tenacity.

The Bloodaxe orc lads poked their heads out from the iron barrels, behind the tires, and in the ruts, staring at the mech for a moment, collectively stunned. Then, someone seemed to start it, and a deafening cheer erupted from behind the defensive line.

"Waaaaaagh!"

As a result, the waaaaaagh force field around them instantly became much stronger.

The second one was painted red, and the giant, shoulder-mounted cannon barrel slowly lowered, pointing towards the red torrent of steel in the distance.

Mao Ge's fearlessness symbolizes cunning. The shadow of the cannon muzzle cast on the ground, obscuring several Bloodaxe Orc lads who were staring up with their mouths agape.

As the Mao Ge fearlessly stepped out of the crevice, its right foot landed squarely on the hood of the small leader's combat truck.

An unknown number of tons of mech weight pressed down from above.

The armor plating on the front of the vehicle was flattened like tin foil, the engine compartment collapsed instantly, the steel frame of the cockpit twisted and deformed, and the windshield shattered into powder. The petty boss, along with his command post, his welded goggles, and the metal pipe that had been biting him throughout the entire battle, all became part of that discus.

From front to back, the entire combat truck was crushed into flat scrap metal less than half a meter thick by a single stomp.

When the giant mecha foot lifted off the disc, a piece of car door was still stuck to its bottom.

They surged out of their hiding places like a floodgate opened, following behind the giant mechs and charging towards the scattered Evil Sun convoy. The fearless multi-barreled cannons of the Gao Ge spun and unleashed a barrage of bullets, while the fearless Mao Ge fired cannon after cannonball. Shells landed in the convoy, and the exploding fireballs sent several combat motorcycles and their riders flying into the air.

Evil Sun's convoy completely collapsed. Without their leader, the orc lads fought on their own. Some turned and ran, while others wandered around aimlessly, unable to find their way, and were taken down one by one by the Blood Axe orcs and mechs that caught up with them.

The Bloodaxe orc lads swarmed back, bombarding Snagrim with the same question.

"Boss! Where did those big machines come from? When did you get them?"

"Is it Brother Gao the Fearless? And Brother Mao's too! Both! I've only ever heard of them in stories before!"

"Is this one of our boss's hidden trump cards?"

Snagrim did not answer, but simply turned to look behind the hills.

The few Fearless Gunboats slowly came to a stop, their yellow and red paint jobs standing out starkly against the hazy sky of this desolate planet.

Then their outlines begin to become transparent.

First, the edges blurred, then the details on the armor plate surface gradually faded, turning into a translucent phantom, and finally it turned into light spots and dissipated into the air.

Within seconds, the hills were empty, devoid of anything.

Not even a footprint was left.

Snagrim stared at the spot where the mech had disappeared for a long time, his shrewd little eyes under the brim of his hat never blinking.

He slowly took off his military cap, scratched the back of his head with his rough, green hands, and then put the cap back on.

Then he turned around, faced the group of Bloodaxe orc boys who were still chattering and waiting for an answer, and waved his hand.

"Don't ask anymore."

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