Chapter 150: Death in the Iron Can
Private Earo Lacroix of the 3rd Infantry Battalion, in his entire life—even in his wildest dreams—had never imagined he would encounter such a terrifying scene right before his eyes.
It was destruction on an apocalyptic scale!
As a lowly soldier, he had no clue what orbital strike plans the higher-ups had in mind; all he knew was that a rain of meteors streaked through the sky and crashed into the core of the High Tower Ruins in the distance.
Then came the tremors of an earthquake!
Not to mention the searing hot wind that followed, the shockwave, the immense sound… what he could see before him alone was enough to leave him utterly astonished.
It was as if two enormous suns, accompanied by countless smaller ones, had risen deep within the High Tower Ruins.
And the ruins of the High Tower, which he had become so familiar with over the past few years, were now completely transformed.
Despite being a wasteland, the ruins still contained some ‘landmarks.’
While many skyscrapers from the old city had collapsed, a significant number remained standing.
The tall buildings erected in the pre-war era stood resilient for a century, a testament to their solid construction.
Though they appeared battered and broken, they never actually fell.
Many battles had taken place near these tall pre-war structures, yet the bullets and artillery hadn’t managed to bring them down.
Even a 155 howitzer shell hitting one of the still-standing buildings would only scrape off a bit of its exterior, or further disrupt the already chaotic inner structure.
But this devastating bombardment from above didn’t just bring them down; it went beyond that.
Not only did several of the pre-war skyscrapers collapse, but the heart of the area was now devoid of the dense jungle of tall buildings.
From Lacroix’s perspective, it looked as if a monstrous creature had taken a bite out of the steel jungle, leaving a massive gap.
Before he could even recover from the shock, a series of loud whooshing sounds came from above his head.
He recognized this sound all too well; it had been a constant presence over the past month.
But never had he heard it in such rapid succession.
Before he could ponder any further, orders from the company commander were passed down, and his squad leader ordered them to move out.
He quickly collected himself and followed the squad.
On their way to the front lines, he felt his entire body heating up.
He couldn’t tell if it was from the quick march or the excitement bubbling up from within.
A continuous rumbling of explosions echoed from the direction he was heading toward; those were the sounds of artillery hitting the Greenskin beasts’ positions.
As they advanced, he felt tense, fearing that a stray artillery shell from the Greenskins’ ‘Iron Barrel Cannons’ or an armed pickup truck might suddenly appear.
These had been their nightmare for some time.
But none of those appeared.
By the time he and his comrades had reached within a hundred or two hundred meters of the Greenskin positions, it became clear why they hadn’t encountered any resistance along the way.
The Greenskins had been blasted to smithereens, leaving them too broken to mount any resistance.
Those Iron Barrel Cannons and armed pickups? They were likely destroyed beyond recognition.
He’d only waited here for five or six minutes, yet had already seen hundreds of shells raining down on the enemy positions in front of them.
The sheer intensity of the bombardment was enough to make his head go numb.
To be honest, staying in this spot made Lacroix uneasy.
If one of those shells veered slightly, it could hit him directly on the head.
Even if they didn’t, being only one or two hundred meters away, he could still feel the sheer power of the shells.
The officers continuously warned the soldiers not to lie flat against the ground while waiting in position.
Even if it was uncomfortable, they had to brace their bodies to avoid the shockwave from the ground that could potentially damage their internal organs.
They waited in place for about seven minutes.
According to the squad leader, they’d arrived a bit earlier than scheduled. Lacroix didn’t understand these details, not even owning a watch.
All he knew was that the time had come, and it was time to charge.
Truthfully, he was still a bit scared.
Not of the Greenskins—they’d been bombarded so thoroughly, how many of them could still be alive?
Even if there were a decent number of survivors, he had a gun, and if they got too close, he’d use his bayonet. He just had to fight.
What he feared was that a moment of hesitation from the artillerymen behind would spell doom for him.
But he charged forward regardless.
They covered the two-hundred-meter distance, storming into the Greenskins’ position and swiftly locating any potential defense points.
Here and there, sparse pockets of resistance fired back.
Clearly, not all the Greenskins had been completely wiped out.
In the collapsed buildings, or narrow spaces created by multi-story concrete slabs, some Greenskins who had survived the bombardment were hiding.
As the human soldiers launched their assault, they emerged, roaring and launching countercharges.
But there were far too few of them.
Three appeared in front of Lacroix.
He and his comrades immediately opened fire.
Their platoon, divided into three squads, was positioned close to each other, and over thirty rifles fired at the three Greenskins, bombarding them with a relentless barrage.
The Greenskins managed to fire back, but they each only got off two shots before they were struck by nearly a hundred bullets and killed.
The most they managed was to shatter a soldier’s leg.
The injured soldier would be dragged back by his comrades, then transferred by the logistical support team to the field hospital.
The rest continued their advance.
Artillery support from the rear continued, though it had lessened somewhat.
The bombardment had shifted from covering the entire Greenskin position to a smaller area about two hundred meters ahead of the infantry.
With this coordinated assault, once they had cleared the current zone, the artillery would move forward another two hundred meters, and they would follow suit.
This process would repeat four times, pushing through a position roughly eight hundred meters wide.
To be honest, throughout the entire operation, Lacroix’s only fear was his own artillerymen losing control.
Having those heavy guns blasting only two hundred meters ahead was indeed nerve-wracking.
As for the Greenskins?
He saw nothing but their corpses scattered everywhere, so mangled it was hard to find a whole body.
Any survivors were isolated and immediately gunned down by dozens of rifles, posing no real threat.
Truthfully, excluding the anxiety caused by his own artillery, Lacroix’s strongest feeling was… boredom?
Of course, he knew such a feeling was absurd.
Pushing further forward, he and his comrades entered a ruined building with four walls.
Of course, Lacroix’s infantry squad experiencing a six-death-to-two survival rate was a bit extreme.
Lacroix’s squad suffered slightly worse due to leading the vanguard.
The overall casualty rate for the entire battalion was around 2%.
They lost about a hundred warriors but eliminated more than two hundred stray Greenskins.
As for the total number of Greenskin casualties on this battlefield, that was difficult to calculate.
The artillery bombardment lasted over an hour, with at least five thousand shells falling here; at minimum, over five hundred Greenskins were killed.
Of course, that was an estimate; many corpses were mangled beyond recognition or buried under the ruins, so it was impossible to give an exact count.
The artillery barrage had mostly ceased, presumably because the artillerymen were running low on ammunition.
However, the target area that the 3rd Infantry Battalion needed to secure was already cleared.
Two composite battalions from the 1st Silent Wind Brigade quickly pushed through the opening they created and began to encircle the Greenskins, moving north and south.
Friendly forces from other directions had also launched a full-scale offensive.
Two battalions remained to hold this position, severing the Greenskins’ connections from the north and south of the front line, while the rest followed Major Pobov of the 1st Battalion northward to intercept.
Surprisingly, the fighting concluded first in the southern section of the Greenskin position.
Not many Greenskins had survived there, especially in the far south, which the 7th Garrison Division’s 4th Regiment had previously captured.
Their fortifications had been destroyed nearly beyond repair.
After the 4th Regiment withdrew, the Greenskins reoccupied the area, but their makeshift defenses were poor, and the bombardment nearly wiped out all the Greenskins there.
In comparison, the northern sector had theoretically more troops deployed, with the 3rd Independent Regiment joining in the assault on the northern Greenskin forces.
However, a significant number of Greenskins still remained alive there, and, most crucially, there was a powerful Greenskin leader among them.
…
With the Greenskin Orcs, there’s a world of difference in their behavior depending on whether or not they have a strong leader.
Without a leader, they fight amongst themselves, fail to organize, and act recklessly and brainlessly.
With a leader, they are usually still reckless and brainless but can at least coordinate their actions.
And Kao’fu was one such charismatic Greenskin leader.
In his clan, he ranked just below the primary leader, Si Rou.
Many young Greenskins answered to him, and he was powerful.
According to the elder and Si Rou’s plan, he knew they were on the verge of launching a full assault on those “weaklings.”
They had numerous big “booms,” large vehicles, and metal cans ready to go.
Si Rou had even sent the second largest one to the front line ahead of time to reassure him.
This machine was even bigger than the Killcan; the elder called it the “Dread Iron Can.”
Sure, operating the thing required severing one’s legs and connecting them to machinery, embedding tubes into one’s head and spinal cord, and being forever unable to leave it.
But… so what?
With this mighty machine, he could slash and shoot at will, unleashing its multi-barrel weaponry.
What Greenskin would ever want to get out of something like that?
After entering the Dread Iron Can, Kao’fu constantly endured pain and torment, alleviated only by killing.
He was desperate to lead his lads and slaughter every single one of those “weaklings.”
But Si Rou had ordered him to hold back, hold back, and keep holding back.
And through this endless waiting, he suddenly faced earth-shattering bombardment.
Where was the promised support from more big machines?
Gone!
So now what?
At this rate, they’d all be annihilated, no matter how strong he or his lads were.
Responding to his rallying call, over four hundred Greenskins gathered around him.
He led them eastward, breaking through.
Their advance was unstoppable, overcoming every obstacle in their path.
Stuffed inside the Dread Iron Can, Kao’fu stood at four meters tall, larger and stronger than a standard Killcan, with armor even sturdier than Star Warriors’ power armor.
Bullets barely left a scratch; they couldn’t penetrate his defenses.
One commander organized a dozen rocket launchers, firing them all at once.
Though several Greenskins were killed, Kao’fu, the main target, endured the blasts with minimal damage.
He even set his sights on the commander, charging forward, slaughtering dozens of soldiers with his multi-barreled machine gun and spinning saws.
Seeing the situation turn dire, the commander tried to retreat but didn’t make it.
The commissar was killed by the machine gun, and the commander was sawed in half.
The entire battalion was devastated, and even that section of the front line was briefly left unguarded.
Thankfully, Pobov’s battalion arrived just in time, though intercepting them was a grueling task.
Neither the Walker V Infantry Fighting Vehicle nor the domestically produced “Challenger” tank could withstand the Dread Iron Can’s attacks.
Machine guns mounted on the armored vehicles struggled to hit the Dread Iron Can.
Despite its massive size and wild appearance, it was surprisingly agile, making it difficult for the turrets to land accurate shots.
Even when some machine-gun rounds hit, they only left small dents on its metal armor, failing to penetrate.
The problem boiled down to insufficient caliber.
Even the “Challenger” tank’s 76mm cannon lacked the punch.
While its caliber was adequate, the shells’ speed, due to local technology, lacked penetration power.
The 76mm cannon was still more effective than the machine gun, though.
It would take hundreds of machine-gun rounds or dozens of accurate 76mm shots to inflict cumulative damage from metal fatigue, eventually breaching the Dread Iron Can’s armor.
Otherwise, they had little hope of taking down Kao’fu.
Instead, he could approach the armored vehicles, using his massive metal pincers to grip or even crush the front of an armored car.
A few seconds of direct fire from his multi-barreled machine gun could pierce the vehicle, killing the driver inside.
His spinning saws showered sparks as they sliced through armor plates.
Using every weapon at his disposal, he destroyed two armored vehicles and two tanks.
Infantry moved up, attempting another rocket attack, but the results were modest, failing to land a decisive blow.
To eliminate the Dread Iron Can, either they needed enough firepower to overwhelm it or they had to bear heavy sacrifices, wearing it down.
Even a steady drip of water could wear through stone, let alone the thousands of rounds of bullets and artillery fired at it.
However, the cost in lives would be overwhelming.
They would lose untold numbers of soldiers and vehicles before finally bringing down Kao’fu.
The other option was to bombard it with 155mm howitzers.
This was more feasible—two or three direct hits might destroy it instantly.
But such a tactic would bring heavy casualties from friendly fire.
But there was no choice left.
Without drastic action, the human forces wouldn’t hold out long enough to destroy this steel monstrosity, and the Greenskins would break through.
Pobov gritted his teeth, ordering some of his forces to encircle it while calling for artillery support.
Inside the strike zone were many of his troops from the 1st Battalion of the Silent Wind Brigade.
When the shells fell, many of his brothers would be among the dead.
His heart ached, but he couldn’t order his soldiers to fall back; instead, he demanded they hold their ground.
This was a battle where soldiers’ lives were traded for progress.
“Pull our soldiers back.”
At that moment, a voice echoed in Pobov’s mind.
It was the Governor’s voice.
Stunned, Pobov quickly gave the order for his soldiers to retreat.
As the armored vehicles and infantry began to withdraw and took cover, the Dread Iron Can immediately attempted to pursue.
Suddenly, a strange force froze it in place.
It wasn’t entirely motionless, but it was as if its operator had been disconnected, leaving it momentarily immobilized.
Governor Gu Hang had intervened!
The Governor himself had followed the offensive forces onto the battlefield.
He had little concern for his own safety; this was a battle they were destined to win.
And as a Psyker, he possessed ample means to protect himself.
In this battle, as long as he didn’t deliberately throw himself into danger, his survival was assured.
Moreover, his presence would not only boost troop morale but also resolve special challenges.
Such as the current encounter with this Greenskin leader.
His psionic powers were put to great use!
Gu Hang had no interest in a brute-force struggle against this massive machine.
His psychic strength, while not weak, would be unwise to pit directly against a mechanical beast of such scale.
Instead, he focused on controlling the Greenskin leader inside the Dread Iron Can.
While formidable, the Greenskin’s armor lacked the psychic resistance of a Star Warrior’s power armor.
The behemoth was entirely defenseless against his psionics.
However, the Greenskin leader’s Waaagh energy was incredibly resilient.
Gu Hang was forced to exert his full strength to use his
“Soul Sever” ability to assault the creature’s soul, targeting its central nervous core.
It was challenging—just barely easier than outright killing it.
This attempt only managed to disable its movements temporarily, for a minute or two.
But this short window was enough for the 155mm howitzers from the artillery positions to rain down upon it.