The immense recoil generated by the compression of heated air pushed Zhang Ge backward, causing him to topple diagonally to the ground. This resulted in the tentacle missing its mark. Meanwhile, the rapid succession of high-powered attacks delivered in such a short timeframe forced the demon before him to emit a wailing screech, its movements momentarily stalled.
In that brief moment, the muffled sound of a heavy explosive round gun resounded from behind, slamming into the demon’s grotesque pinkish form that had been partially revealed. The spinning steel-tipped rounds tore through its material existence in the physical universe, with successive explosions ripping apart its massive body.
Under the overwhelming firepower of the heavy weapons, the demon—capable of annihilating an entire squad of Astral Guards—was obliterated in an instant.
Zhang Ge, who had fallen to the ground, was showered in smoldering ash. He held a laser rifle in his hand, its flickering energy cells seeming to express some kind of emotion. His expression was complicated.
"Brother, aren’t machine spirits supposed to be temperamental and hard to please? Why does yours behave like this?"
Logically speaking, Zhang Ge, as a civilian with no military background prior to his transmigration, should have started feeling fear once he had regained his composure.
Whether it was the demon’s grotesque and horrifying appearance or the life-and-death confrontation that lasted but a fleeting moment, even if he wouldn’t face eternal sleep due to death, the biological instincts and subconscious beliefs of a living being couldn’t be overturned so quickly.
Yet within this body, it felt as though such experiences—walking the razor’s edge—had already become second nature. Although his subjective thoughts registered a sense of horror, his outward behavior showed no signs of fear or tension.
Shaking his head to cast aside this dissonant feeling, Zhang Ge propped himself up into a semi-crouched position using the reinforced plasteel ribbing along the side of the trench. After catching his breath, he stepped onto the sandbag-covered firing step to survey the situation.
The demon that had infiltrated the defensive line wasn’t the only one, and the Astral Guards in other directions clearly weren’t as fortunate as Zhang Ge.
The trench was about 2.8 meters deep, requiring ordinary Astral Guards to stand on the firing step along the trench wall to expose themselves for shooting. Yet even with a trench depth designed to accommodate Primaris Space Marines, parts of the demons’ desecrated forms could still be seen emerging in various places.
In an instant, the silence that had gripped the defensive line was replaced by roars, gunfire, and explosions. The heavy explosive weapon emplacement that had just supported Zhang Ge was now obliterated by a bomb fashioned from the corpse of an Astral Guard, thrown by a demon before they could reposition in time.
From the body exploded countless malevolent creations resembling multi-legged starfish, which spread out in all directions, consuming and tearing apart the entire heavy weapon squad stationed there before surging further into the defensive line.
Under such circumstances, on the other side of the trench, the indistinct figures of numerous cultists began appearing in front of the defensive line. The sentinels, impaled on tall stakes that pierced through their skulls from below, explained how the line had been infiltrated so silently.
Zhang Ge retracted his body, replaced an energy cartridge, and moved to the combat-facing side of the trench, raising his laser rifle. The swift and precise beams of light seemed almost alive—sometimes firing even before he pulled the trigger, and at other times responding with a slight delay after he did.
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Despite these seemingly malfunctioning behaviors, every laser beam hit its mark with uncanny precision, striking the most threatening enemies in his line of sight at exactly the right moment.
Each vibration and every bit of recoil seemed to assist Zhang Ge’s aim, making micro-adjustments to his shots. The red laser beams drilled into the gaps in the cultists’ armor, their searing heat annihilating the corrupted flesh beneath.
This precise shooting naturally drew the enemies’ attention. However, on one hand, although the cultists appeared to have boundless stamina, their physical limitations were evident. Even at a full sprint, they couldn’t close the distance significantly in such a short time, leaving the engagement range still over a thousand meters.
At this distance, the laser rifle’s straight trajectory and high beam velocity allowed for pinpoint accuracy. Meanwhile, the cultists’ automatic rifles and similar weapons were incapable of achieving precise fire over such a long range.
On the other hand, most of these cultists lacked any military training prior to their rebellion. The majority were mere civilians, with poor combat skills to begin with. Moreover, Zhang Ge wasn’t the only one on the battlefield; they wouldn’t concentrate all their firepower on a single infantryman.
As a result, even though Zhang Ge exposed himself above the trench for over ten seconds and managed to shoot down more than a dozen cultists, the incoming bullets merely kicked up dirt around the trench or flew harmlessly into the distance, failing to hit him at all.
After emptying another energy cartridge, Zhang Ge silently sat back down in the trench. Clearly, deliberately exposing himself in the trench to invite death wasn’t a valid way to die; he could only hope that in the next round of shooting, the cultists would perform better.
Just as this thought crossed his mind, a piercing whistle sounded from the rear of the defensive line.
The message conveyed by the whistle reached his mind: Withdraw from the first trench line and regroup at the second.
With no other choice, Zhang Ge abandoned the idea of popping back up for another round of shooting. He jogged over, bent down, and removed the dog tag from a fallen comrade. After shaking off the viscous mixture of what appeared to be brain matter and blood clinging to it, he moved toward the communication trench.
By now, seven or eight nearby comrades had already gathered at the entrance of the trench. Leading them was the squad leader, Dulles, reportedly a veteran. A few other squadmates were hurrying to join from the rear.
This was, of course, not a standard formation. The group was slightly larger than usual, but in a battlefield of this scale, such irregularities were common. Many comrades who had lost their officers or retreating remnants from other units were often reassigned to existing squads. Conversely, squads that had suffered losses but hadn’t received reinforcements operated with fewer numbers.
Compared to the standard formation, being over- or under-manned was the norm.
After crouching about half a meter behind the comrade in front of him, Zhang Ge spoke up:
“Goss is dead. I have his dog tag.”
The comrade ahead merely nodded numbly and repeated the message verbatim to the next person in line. As the words were passed down the line and gradually drowned out by the sounds of gunfire and explosions, they eventually reached Dulles, who acknowledged them with a nod.
This method of communication was extremely inefficient but unavoidable. The communication equipment had been corrupted, emitting only a series of blasphemous and chaotic noises. As a result, the regiment had ordered the cessation of all communications equipment, including those used by individual soldiers.
Before long, the remaining squad members were fully assembled. Despite Zhang Ge’s timely warning and elimination of the demon earlier, the squad had still lost four members in the recent engagement, reducing their strength by about a fifth.
However, there was no time to mourn or lament the fallen. As the squad moved quickly through the communication trench, a series of violent explosions erupted behind them. High explosives buried beneath the trenches detonated in succession, sending dirt and debris flying.
Demons, wounded soldiers, and comrades who had been entangled and unable to retreat in time were all reduced to ash in the fiery blasts.
To prevent the enemy from using the communication trenches to breach other defensive lines, the junctions at key nodes were almost entirely leveled. The intense shockwaves even traveled over a hundred meters along the relatively straight sections of the communication trenches that hadn’t been constructed to standard defensive specifications.
By this time, Zhang Ge and his group had already entered the second trench line. Amid the relentless exchange of fire, they temporarily regrouped, awaiting further orders.