Additional Chapter!
Thank this people (for smashing that three stones in this story) for this additional chapter to Ali_Dagheri, Whadyamean (2x), Joel_Ramos_5979 (2x), Lovely_Childe, 1vel, Cosmoc_Void_Val, DaoistptKdxj for making this extra chapter possible.
Enjoy Reading!
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"What is that?"
The garrison captain's eyes widened in terror. In the next instant, the giant stood before him.
"Attack…"
His command was cut short as he was hurled backward, tumbling several times before crashing lifeless to the ground.
Thierry emerged from the carriage, witnessing Nimrod's charge carve a broad swath through the garrison ranks. Those in his direct path were obliterated upon impact, while those nearby were flung aside by the shockwave.
Thierry's pupils contracted, realizing that Nimrod's strength far surpassed his wildest imaginings.
[He is akin to a war god from the Age of Strife. Had he not sought my allegiance, I would have been pulped before I could raise my blade.]
Thierry harbored no further doubts about Nimrod. This work cycle would mark the Mad King's doom.
"A monster!"
"A god descended to punish the Mad King!"
"…"
The guards' morale shattered, their cries echoing as they fled in abject panic.
"To Puhach's spire, lead the way."
Nimrod, heedless of their rout, addressed Thierry with commanding resolve.
"My lord, the train station lies twenty-five point four kilometers from the Mad King's spire. Follow me."
Three kilometers into their advance, the force encountered resistance from the hive's garrison troops.
Nimrod's superhuman senses encompassed the entire enemy formation—four thousand one hundred strong, outnumbering Tetzvok's hive forces, and better equipped. For each hundred troops, a support vehicle bolstered their ranks.
[Though mad, Puhach is more generous than House Boleslav. These vehicles, while negligible on open battlefields, are formidable riot-suppression machines within hive garrisons.]
Nimrod noted that only Thierry and Rawlslev wore carapace armor, leaving his other troops vulnerable to heavy bolter fire, which would exact a grievous toll.
Converting troop numbers, firepower, and terrain into parameters, Nimrod's mind constructed a battle model, formulating a meticulous strategy.
"Seventh, Eighth, Ninth, and Tenth Companies, alongside Thierry's forces, deploy to the left flank. The remaining six companies will strike from the right."
Beyond Rawlslev and other elites, the First Regiment of Vostonia—comprised of gangers and Upper Hive workers—lacked the combat prowess of Thierry's seasoned guerrilla fighters.
By assigning the four companies of recruits to the left flank, Nimrod balanced the overall strength.
The six companies of veterans, with their superior coordination, would falter if paired with recruits.
Nimrod then led the charge toward the enemy, intent on drawing their fire, particularly from the heavy bolters.
The garrison captain, witnessing the giant's onslaught, reeled as Nimrod's power halberd sent a support vehicle soaring with a single strike.
Seeing the giant barreling toward him, he shouted frantically.
"Attack! Concentrate fire! Target the monster!"
Instantly, thousands of weapons trained upon Nimrod.
Nimrod swung his power halberd, hoisting another support vehicle and smashing it five meters ahead.
With another sweep, enemies on both sides were caught unawares, their upper torsos erupting in a cacophony of "bang, bang, bang" as they burst asunder.
"Advance! Engage!"
Rawlslev, anticipating the moment, issued the attack order.
The recruits of the six companies, spurred by their captains and veteran comrades, surged forward.
Soldiers of the New Fourth Company, momentarily stunned, snapped to attention.
Thierry, struggling to comprehend the battle's ferocity, stood transfixed.
[Against Nimrod, do tactics hold any meaning?
What purpose have my years of swordsmanship served?]
A bullet ricocheted off his carapace armor, jolting him back to reality. Glancing at Nimrod's relentless advance, he issued his command.
"Attack!"
Thierry's shout carried a trace of bitterness. In times past, House Viera's retainers would have noticed their lord's disquiet, but now, all eyes were captivated by the towering figure dominating the battlefield.
Nimrod pressed forward, monitoring the progress of both flanks.
The right flank's veteran core, under Rawlslev's command, advanced with seamless coordination and soaring morale.
Bukayo prowled the formation's edge, wielding a silenced laspistol to extinguish lumen-globes.
Slipping through darkness and building shadows, he went unnoticed by the enemy, yet each emergence claimed an enemy officer's life, sowing ever-growing chaos.
Thierry, though distracted, remained the mightiest warrior save Nimrod, serving as the left flank's spearhead.
House Viera's soldiers, their eyes ablaze with vengeful fury, outmatched the recruits of the four companies beside them.
The recruits, after initial disarray, rallied under their officers' bellowed commands, entering the fray.
Nimrod's absorption of the enemy's primary firepower left them facing scattered, intermittent assaults.
The Seventh Company, which had seized the train station, distinguished itself, particularly Szczesny, whom Nimrod closely observed. Not only was his marksmanship unerring, but he displayed keen command instincts, rallying his squad with shouts and coordinating with other units.
"Sandomierski, advance! Eliminate the bastard at your eleven o'clock!"
"Wawrzyniak, get back here! Hold the line!"
"Wasilewski, I'll draw their fire. Flank them from the side!"
"…"
Nimrod's focus returned to the front, his decision crystallized: Szczesny would be groomed as a "Sailor" Beyonder.
Thierry, a natural "Warrior" Beyonder, possessed potential far surpassing Rawlslev, though his loyalty required further scrutiny.
His gaze locked onto the fleeing enemy commander ahead, and he broke into a run.
After five strides, he launched himself skyward.
His right foot slammed onto a support vehicle, propelling him further.
"Run! Floor it, damn you!"
The Lukov garrison's commander screamed in terror, urging the driver.
In the next moment, a shadow loomed overhead. He looked up, his final thought a despairing "It's over."
Nimrod crashed into the command vehicle, reducing the commander to a smear of gore. He felt his spirituality surge with vitality, his body growing lighter, sensing a new milestone in his digestion of the "Barbarian" Beyonder potion.
The garrison collapsed utterly, discarding weapons and scattering in all directions.
The battlefield was cleared in ten standard minutes.
The First Regiment of Vostonia captured three support vehicles, while House Viera's forces seized two. Ammunition reserves were replenished.
Thierry mounted a support vehicle, guiding the way three meters ahead of Nimrod's left flank.
At the spire of House Piontkovski, Puhach—his body devoid of flesh, his movements resonating with the clang of steel—entered the palace.
All present immediately bowed their heads, especially the nobles, their bodies partially failing from incomplete augmetic conversions, plagued by double vision. They silently prayed:
[The Mad King sees me not, the Mad King sees me not…]
Puhach ascended his iron throne, raising his right arm, its mechanical claw pointing at a figure cloaked in a red robe, concealing fleshless legs.
"Muravski, I dispatched Milzeyevski's garrison to intercept. Why do you disturb my experiments?"
At the mention of experiments, all trembled faintly.
"My king, forgive me, but the enemy assaulting the Upper Hive includes not only the traitor Thierry Viera but also a monster."