Chapter 97: Lone Army

The port of Helsreich, located on the west side of Hades Hive, also faced the fierce attack of the orcs, but compared with the battle of Hades Hive, the battle of Helsreich came later.

The nobles were still arguing and shirking responsibility, and looking for any possible legal provisions and loopholes to gain more benefits for their families. They were arguing endlessly, and they never cared about the lives of the soldiers and residents below before, and they were still the same now.

However, the purge of Hades Hive gave the people of Helsreich Port an extremely dazzling example. They felt that they could also try the solution of Hades Hive, and then stop the invasion of the orcs and protect their homes.

For the first time, the knowledgeable people in the army and the hive gangs united, cleansed the nobles and highly organized the residents in the city, ambushing the greenskins in any corner of the port, but they could not hold out for too long under the onslaught of the greenskins. This was just a port city, not like the Hades hive city with a large number of industrial areas as support. It was more like a center where resources and economy converged and flowed.

Now, Helsrich has successfully evacuated most of the population under their perseverance, but the problem is that there will always be some people who want to stay, and there will always be some people who want to die in their homes. These soldiers defending near the evacuation port are a lone army, a lone army that lives to die.

Herbert, a diligent driver of a large cargo crane, or this job has been passed down for generations, and Herbert is the ninth generation of this crane. He could still think of himself, in this bustling, noisy, and always busy port, using his own hands to control this huge crane to pull up those heavy material containers and hoist them onto those freight trucks with huge chassis and low bodies.

This is a good job. Compared with those port maintenance workers who are responsible for cutting up scrap ships and cleaning up all kinds of strange things on ships below the port, Herbert is like a god hanging over the entire port. The only thing that can match his height is the spires that show the status and wealth of the nobles. He can see the cranes in other parts of the port from high in the sky, and how the pollution clouds above his head flow and float. He can even be lucky enough to see the precious starlight that breaks out from the gaps in the heavy pollution clouds.

That touch of gold reminded him of the small Anglican church that his wife often went to on weekends. Whenever the pastor preached and answered questions, the finely decorated church would emerge with gold similar to this starlight, so beautiful and dazzling.

But now, everything is over.

The invasion of the greenskins happened to hit a garbage satellite near their home. When Herbert hurried back, his wife and lovely children had become bone residue in the stomach of the orcs.

Silently, he used the welding torch in his hand to weld the door of his operating room. He was not going to go out, or even to continue living. The daily struggle and numbness could only make him see his deceased family members pleading with him in the dead of night.

"Revenge for us."

With the sadness of a broken family and the determination for revenge, Herbert, the taciturn crane operator, joined the defense forces formed by those gangs and armies.

The guys in those gangs didn't look like normal people at all. They were wearing clothes made of leather from unknown sources. Almost everyone wore a tattered gas mask with various patterns and terrible skull faces painted on it. They used various decorations and spikes on their bodies that were different from others to distinguish who they were. Almost every nail on the iron shoulder armor on their shoulders had its own meaning.

But you have to admit that sometimes a crazy gang member standing behind you is more reassuring than an undertrained imperial soldier whose armor is not even suitable.

These gang scum, Herbert swore that none of them were good people. He had also been to the bottom of the hive to repair the counterweight and the stable part of the foundation of his huge crane. He knew what kind of lawless and morally corrupt place it was.

He was sure that every one of the crazy gang members he saw in the port defense battle was a murderer and a heavy drug addict. As long as they didn't have knives and guns in their hands, they would tiptoe uneasily and observe the movements of others with the eyepieces of their gas masks flashing green light. Once the filter canister on the mask was cleaned of the inferior drugs, their hands would shake violently unconsciously, and their heads would nod again and again, and they would mutter something in their mouths like a dream.

But now, at least he doesn't have to fight with those dangerous and unstable "teammates". Only the old crane he is most familiar with will accompany him to the end of his life.

"Get ready, they are coming."

The scouts heard the movement of the orcs in front of them. All the officers of the soldiers' squads received the intelligence and quietly arranged the soldiers to enter the ambush position, reminding them not to expose themselves or shoot in advance.

None of these soldiers are young. Most of them are middle-aged people with wrinkles on their faces or gray hair. As for the elderly? The elderly have almost died in fierce battles and under material control. Most of these middle-aged people are poor people who lost everything in the battle, or loyal people in the army who believe in the emperor and are willing to sacrifice themselves for him.

Of course, there are many people who did not draw the evacuation ticket, or poor people who lost their quota due to theft and threats. After several days of wailing and sadness, these people began to face the fact that they are about to die numbly.

Since they are going to die, at least they have to die gloriously, so that they can have a story worth telling when they return to the throne, instead of just saying that they go to shovel shit in some corner.

Rumble.

The sound of the orcs' tank engines is always so deafening, and the black smoke emitted from their tailpipes makes it impossible for them to hide their movements in the city. If you want to know where there are the most orc armored troops, you only need to look at where the clouds are the darkest. If you want to know where there are the most orcs, you only need to find a loud speaker and shout "Waaagh!" Then listen to the direction where the sound is the loudest.

Boom!

Explosions came from both sides of the road where the orcs passed through the ruins. These metal plates made of various simple copper and iron by the hive gangs and the improvised explosive devices they placed behind them can effectively penetrate those thin pickup trucks. Even if the metal plates are too poor, they can be used as fragmentation bombs. It is still very efficient to clear the orcs' unarmored troops.

A piece of metal hit the orc tank, smashing a pit in the machine gun operating room on the side of the vehicle body, just hitting the fart spirit operating the machine gun inside, and hitting his little head with a big hole.

The fart spirit with a brain injury lay in the car room, drooling and twitching, and was about to die.

But this was just the beginning, and the real battle had not yet begun.