Logically speaking, as a civilian with no military background before his transmigration, Zhang Ge should have started to feel fear after regaining his composure.
Whether it was the twisted and terrifying appearance of the demons or the life-and-death mont of confrontation, even though he wouldn't be eternally dormant due to death, biological instincts and subconscious perceptions couldn't be reversed in such a short ti.
However, this body seed to have already grown accustod to the sensation of walking on the edge of a blade. Although there was a sense of horror in his conscious thoughts, his outward behavior showed no signs of fear or tension.
Shaking his head, Zhang Ge pushed aside this disjointed feeling. Propping himself up with one hand on the plasteel reinforcent of the trench wall, he assud a half-crouched position. After catching his breath, he stepped onto the sandbag steps to observe.
The demon that had infiltrated the position wasn't the only one, and the Astra Militarum on other fronts clearly didn't have Zhang Ge's good fortune.
The trench was about 2.8 ters deep. Ordinary Astra Militarum soldiers needed to stand on the steps on one side of the trench to lean out and shoot. Yet, even at this depth, which was sufficient to accommodate Primaris Space Marines, the blasphemous forms of demons could be seen erging in various places.
In an instant, roars, gunfire, and explosions replaced the previous silence of the battlefield. The heavy bolter position that had just supported Zhang Ge was now destroyed by a bomb made from the corpse of an Astra Militarum soldier, thrown by a demon.
Countless evil creatures resembling multi-legged starfish burst forth from the corpse, devouring and tearing apart the entire heavy weapons team at the position before surging deeper into the trench.
In this chaos, on the other side of the trench, the shadowy figures of nurous cultists began to appear in front of the position. The sentinel, impaled from below through the skull and mounted on a high scaffold, explained why the position had been infiltrated so silently.
Zhang Ge withdrew, replaced an energy magazine, and moved to the enemy-facing side, raising his lasgun. The swift and precise beams seed to have a life of their own, sotis firing before the trigger was pulled, and other tis responding with a delay after the trigger was pressed.
Despite this seemingly malfunctioning behavior, every beam of light struck the most threatening enemy in its line of sight with perfect accuracy at just the right mont.
Every tremor, every bit of recoil seed to assist in fine-tuning Zhang Ge's shots. Each red beam precisely penetrated the gaps in the cultists' armor, using its searing heat to annihilate their corrupted flesh.
This precise shooting naturally drew the enemy's attention. However, on one hand, although the cultists seed to have endless stamina, their physical capabilities were limited. Even at full sprint, they couldn't close the distance significantly in such a short ti, so the engagent distance remained over a thousand ters.
At this range, the straight trajectory and high velocity of the lasgun's beams made it easy to hit any target, but the cultists' autoguns and similar weapons were completely incapable of accurate shooting at such a distance.
On the other hand, most of these cultists had no military background before their rebellion, being mostly civilians. Their combat skills were poor, and with more than just Zhang Ge on the battlefield, they didn't concentrate all their fire on a single infantryman.
Thus, even though Zhang Ge had exposed half his body over the trench for over ten seconds, killing more than a dozen cultists, the bullets flying his way only kicked up dirt around the trench or flew off into the distance, failing to hit him.
After emptying another magazine, Zhang Ge silently sat back down in the trench. Clearly, deliberately exposing himself over the trench to die wasn't a normal way to go. He could only hope the cultists would do better in the next round of shooting.
Just as he thought this, a shrill whistle sounded from the rear of the position.
The ssage conveyed by the whistle reached his mind: Withdraw from the first trench line and rge into the second.
With this, Zhang Ge had to abandon the idea of leaning out for another round of shooting. He jogged over, bent down, and took the dog tags of the fallen comrade nearby. After shaking off the sticky mixture of what appeared to be brain matter and blood, he moved to the communication trench.
By now, seven or eight nearby comrades had already gathered at the entrance of the trench, led by Sergeant Dullis, the squad leader, who was said to be a veteran. A few more squad mbers were arriving from the rear.
This wasn't the standard formation—there were more people than usual—but on a battlefield of this scale, it was normal. Many comrades who had lost their officers or were simply remnants of retreating units would be directly integrated into existing formations, or conversely, units that had suffered losses but hadn't received reinforcents.
Compared to the standard formation, having more or fewer people was the norm.
After squatting down about half a ter behind the comrade in front, Zhang Ge spoke up, "Goss is dead. His dog tags are with ."
The comrade in front rely nodded numbly and repeated the ssage verbatim to the person ahead. As the words gradually faded into the noise of gunfire and explosions, Sergeant Dullis, who had received the information, nodded in acknowledgnt.
This thod of relaying information was highly inefficient but necessary. Earlier, communication devices had started emitting only a series of blasphemous noises, forcing the regint to order a halt to their use, including the individual comms units.
Before long, the rest of the squad had assembled. Despite Zhang Ge's tily warning and the elimination of the demon, four more had died in the recent skirmish, reducing the squad by nearly a fifth.
However, there was no ti to mourn or lant the fallen. After quickly moving through the communication trench, a series of violent explosions shook the ground. The high explosives buried beneath the trench detonated in succession, sending flas and shockwaves that scattered dirt in all directions.
Demons, wounded soldiers, or other comrades who had been entangled and couldn't retreat in ti were all reduced to ashes in the intense explosions.
To prevent the enemy from using the communication trenches to attack other lines, the junctions at key points were almost completely leveled. The powerful shockwaves could even travel hundreds of ters along the relatively straight communication trenches that hadn't been built to defensive standards.
By now, Zhang Ge and his squad had entered the second trench, temporarily regrouping amidst the ongoing crossfire as they awaited further orders.
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