Every bolt-round fired, packed with high-energy Spiritual Energy, was like a miniature guided missile. Each one traced a precise arc, traveling thousands of meters before landing squarely on the greenskin artillery positions. Hidden high in the ruins, these positions were just preparing to lay down suppressive fire with crude rocket launchers and heavy machine guns.
BOOM! KABOOM—!
Violent explosions rang out, one after another.
The furious Spiritual Energy and intense heat instantly devoured and tore apart the crude, scrap-metal gun emplacements, consuming the greenskin cannoneers along with them. They were all transformed into fireballs of green flesh and metal shards that erupted into the sky.
His shots were fast, accurate, and brutal! Almost single-handedly, he had taken out every enemy long-range fire position that could have posed a threat, neutralizing them at the earliest possible moment.
This precise and efficient long-range strike immediately tore open a perfect breach for the entire squad.
"Nice one!"
Mike roared over the comms. He and Zheng Dong, like two Guardian Gods, flanked Wan Shuang and Qin Feng, one on the left and one on the right. With Chainsaw Sword and power axe in hand, they shredded every fearless greenskin kid that charged them head-on.
Meanwhile, the squad leader, Wan Shuang, moved like a ghost, weaving through the gaps in the Battle.
Every flash of the daggers in her hands claimed the life of a straggler who slipped through the cracks.
Her attacks were silent, yet utterly lethal.
The four-person team’s coordination had long since transcended words, achieving a level of synergy that was almost instinctual.
They were like a single, intricate war machine that had fought together for a thousand years. Every movement, every step, was perfectly timed.
The moment Qin Feng’s bolter needed a new magazine, Zheng Dong’s power axe would swing out, unleashing a massive, crescent-shaped wave of force. It would temporarily drive back the surging greenskins, creating an opening for Qin Feng to reload.
When Mike left himself briefly open after a powerful, heavy-handed Slash, Wan Shuang’s figure would appear at his side like a phantom. Her dagger would slit the throat of a short grot attempting a sneak attack.
They moved as one, a tight formation like the red-hot, razor-sharp tip of an arrow. They advanced steadily and resolutely toward the deepest part of the greenskin nest.
When the front line closed in and his bolter became less effective at range, Qin Feng immediately stowed the weapon. The crimson Long Spear, "Koi into Dragon," reappeared in his hands.
He had officially joined the melee.
*Heaven and Earth Spear*!
This Third-level Killing Skill, which he had only just begun to master, became the most terrifying tool of slaughter in his hands at that moment.
In his hands, the Long Spear was at times like a mad dragon bursting from the sea—wild and open. A single horizontal sweep could shatter the bones of several greenskin kids, sending them flying along with the ridiculous scrap-metal "choppas" in their hands.
At other times, it was like a fish darting through water—nimble and fluid. The spear tip would trace intricate arcs within a tiny space, effortlessly parrying a greenskin’s powerful chop. Then, with a casual flick, it would leave a bowl-sized hole in the enemy’s chest.
They were fighting their way into what was once the most prosperous metropolitan area of the planet Hope V.
Now, any trace of its former civilization was long gone.
All the towering skyscrapers had been scorched black. Their walls were riddled with countless huge, irregular holes, turning them into the greenskins’ "apartments."
The streets were littered with bizarre structures built from scrap metal, bones, and various unknown slimes, all suffused with the distinctive style of a WAAAGH! field.
Qin Feng thrust his spear through a wall haphazardly built from rusted iron plates and tires. Behind it, a few large, faded words were revealed—"Extreme Martial Arts Hall."
Once upon a time, this place might have had Martial Artists like the Sun Chan Hall Master, teaching young people full of dreams.
But now, all that remained was a horde of greenskins, waving their choppas and screaming their bizarre battle cry: "WAAAGH!"
As they pushed forward, the scenery along the way was filled with this kind of absurd and cruel contrast.
On the ruins of a massive, half-collapsed building, they could still faintly make out the words "...XX Data Operations Center."
Now, the building’s interior had been converted into a massive, foul-smelling "grot" farm.
At the entrance to a huge factory that had been turned into a weapons workshop, a large sign stubbornly retained a few words—"...Wastewater Treatment Plant."
The fighting here was also far more complex than they had imagined.
The greenskin race’s diversity and creativity were on full display in War, pushed to their absolute limits.
They encountered "grot" kamikaze squads—short figures piloting crude, unicycle-like explosive vehicles, charging madly toward them.
They had also engaged in brutal melee with five-meter-tall "bosses," whose bodies were masses of knotted muscle, their skin as hard as steel, and who wielded giant hydraulic claws.
They even destroyed a "Scrap-Titan" war machine—a creation of a "Big Mek" who had forcibly pieced it together from the parts of countless junked vehicles. It resembled a giant metal spider and could spew high-temperature molten liquid!
The Battle was endless.
Blood stained the earth green.
By now, the power armor on all four of them was caked with viscous green blood and all sorts of unidentifiable filth.