Chapter 168 After the War


Chapter 168 After the War

Thick smoke billowed in the sky over the landing site, obscuring the stars and filtering the moonlight into a dirty gray.

The continuous falling dust coats everything with a smooth, greasy surface.

Campfires were scattered throughout, soldiers huddled together for warmth and bonding, and some worked hard in defensive positions, pulling destroyed Sentinels and Chimera armored vehicles back into position.

At regular intervals there are outward-facing bunkers dug for placement of autocannons, heavy bolters and laser cannons.

If the greenskins come again, they will definitely come from this direction.

But everyone knows that the greenskins will not come. They have all been wiped out in the orbital bombing not long ago. There are probably not many greenskins left on this satellite.

But the daily routine work is not less.

Yarrick stood next to the tracks of a Chimera parked in the bunker, his eyes searching the horizon for any trace of movement.

But there was nothing but the orange fire swaying in the distance.

The hazy cold light bathed the former battlefield in black and white. Yarick sat listlessly on the side of the armored vehicle and fell into deep thought. Finally, he let out a long sigh, shook his head and touched his pockets one by one to try to find a cigarette.

Finally, he found one in his left breast pocket.

The young Zheng Shi rhythmically tapped the cigarette issued by the Ministry of Military Affairs on the armor, and then lit it.

He twirled the cigarette, took a deep breath, let the smoke fill his lungs, and tried to make a judgment on everything that happened today.

At the same time, he could hear behind him the soldiers of the 4337th Regiment working.

Most of them have recovered from the shock and are preparing for the transfer tomorrow.

Some of them were still whispering excitedly at the arrival of the Space Marines, and exclaimed from time to time at the incredible achievements these legendary warriors had accomplished.

Rumors and legends swept through the camp like an infectious disease, leaving everyone refreshed and trembling with excitement.

But strictly speaking, not everyone.

For example, Captain Miller was sitting alone, looking at the corpse in front of him.

These soldiers were still lying on the place where they died in battle, and there was no time to collect their bodies all day long, because the green-skinned corpses were mixed in with them, and the mixed blood soaked the ground - the best case scenario is that a fire would destroy everyone's bodies. The bodies were burned.

In just one afternoon, more than half of the 4337th regiment was killed, and Miller's company was reduced by two-thirds.

Yarrick sighed.

These are also his warriors, good people who have been through life and death.

But because of his duty, he had to call some of them cowards.

Taking another breath, Alex exhaled a thin line of smoke into the night sky.

For a moment, he thought he tasted blood seeping into the soil.

Coward.

The word stuck in his mind, like a circle of hot coals.

Something did happen, some soldiers did turn around and run away, and he dealt with them himself - which made his head hurt.

Glancing at the defense line, Yarrick also saw a few people sitting alone in silence.

They were obviously worried, so they temporarily left their comrades and stared at the place where the massacre occurred during the day.

The glorious stories about the Space Marines were of no use to them. The small flames on the cigarettes in the hands of these men marked them out in the dark like fireflies on the defense line.

Yarek didn't want to punish them for stopping their work.

Most were working enthusiastically, driven by optimism, and he was glad that his men had the autonomy to deal with whatever was happening - the last thing they needed was political blame shouting about their cowardice and treachery.

Everyone knows what happened.

Some people choose to forget to erase the fear of the coming battle.

Other people rely on themselves to discover the last bit of tenacious will in their bodies.

Suddenly, a voice came from the bunker behind him.

"Sir? Is everything okay?" It was his orderly again, probably still holding a cup of tanner tea with a silly smile.

"All is well, private."

Yarrick turned his head and forced a smile on his tired face.

“Everything is fine.”

“Do you want more Tanner Tea?”

Yarick laughed out loud. As he expected, the soldiers were also worried about him.

"No, thank you, I'm fine."

As the orderly climbed back into the bunker to rejoin his comrades, Yarrick shook his head again, threw the cigarette to the ground, and used his boot Stomping and pressing down the previous uneasiness.

The Space Marines are a gift from the Emperor. They are the Empire's most powerful warriors, handpicked from thousands of planets and trained for decades.

If it weren’t for the Space Warriors, the position would definitely fall. Compared with these legendary warriors, it seems understandable for mortals to have such shortcomings.

He believed that their performance today would never leave the impression of cowards in the hearts of the Space Marines. Some soldiers were afraid, but most of them were brave and good people.

No need to find fault with everyone.

Just when the fighting on Foren 5 stopped, the Astral Knights also reunited with the Ascetic Chapter, which had been fighting for a long time. The latter invited the former to be a guest on the Chapter's flagship, the Evernight.

The two battle groups met again at a banquet.

The Evernight is a large battle barge with a separate assembly hall, which is full of original flavor - flames leaping between the stone steps, sparks splashing from the incense, and curling smoke clouds. Up to the high vaulted wooden ceiling.

Rolls of long scarlet silk hang from the top of the iron flagpole, telling the story of the chapter's great achievements in formal poetry.

The waiters brought a large plate of food and drink. Everyone was dressed in various national costumes from the Chapter's home planet of Supole. The music from the ancient piano floated among the noise of conversation.

“Ha!”

The two Chapter Leaders sat down on the high platform, flanked by the command levels of the two Chapters.

In front of everyone is an open space paved with stone slabs. Each stone slab is taken from the ancient mountains of Supole.

Warriors in ceremonial robes stood on three sides of the field, their faces showing bronze in the firelight, and trays on the tables were piled with almost unprocessed raw meat.

In the clearing, the two fighters circled around each other, each holding a dull cast-iron blade.

One is wearing a tight black leather jacket, the other is silver gray.

Their faces were fixed with pure concentration.

The silver-gray warrior is slightly shorter, and the one with a jet-black upper body is slightly taller, but in other aspects, they are almost the same.

Soshyan studied them carefully, leaning on the flat chair and chewing.

Lord Magyar sat next to him, throwing an empty wine glass in his hand and motioning to the waiter to get more.

“Hmph!”

The silver-gray warrior was the first to strike, swinging and swinging out a blow.

The man in black responded immediately, distanced himself and launched a counterattack.

They collided with each other, their limbs were blurred, and the blade was hazy, like two pieces of ceramic shards with different colors under the swinging blood-red light.

The fight lasted for a long time, the conversation between the warriors gradually subsided, and the music also ended.

Soon, the only sounds were the panting after exertion, the sliding of leather-covered feet on the floor, and the whistling of blades intersecting.

Sweat splattered everywhere, and the heavy blade clanked for a while.

The purpose of the competition is only to deepen the friendship between the two war groups. It is a test of concentration and agility, not a fight to the death with brute force.

(End of this chapter)

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