Meisheke's mood was very calm at this moment.
He knew he had made a mistake, having forcefully boosted the morale of the entire battalion, and now he had come too close to the front line, so close that the enemy could charge directly at him. If he were to die here, the morale of the whole battalion could collapse.
Then, it would truly become a joke where thousands were overwhelmed by just dozens of green skins.
Yet, this mistake was also one that had to be made. This troop, newly reorganized from adventurers, had not had sufficient time to instill proper ideological work, and their morale was low. If he had not done so earlier, they might not have been able to fight to this extent.
He knew the odds were against him, but he could not run away, either.
He could only draw his handgun, stand still, his black coat fluttering in the wind.
He stood tall and proud, firing bullets continuously at the green skin charging towards him.
Even in death, he would die standing.
He hoped that his bearing before death would inspire the surrounding soldiers. The enemy was already on their last legs; just one more push and they could wipe them out completely.
The handgun's ammunition did minimal damage to the green skins, offering only a symbolic resistance.
But right then, the sound of booming gunfire came from behind him.
Immediately after, heavy footsteps approached quickly and soon passed by him.
It was a giant in Red Powered Armor.
The Emperor's Angels had arrived.
The gunfire in front, it was obviously from a grenade launcher.
The flying grenades hit three green skins behind the bone leader, each one killed with a single shot.
With the level of a veteran Space Marine, within a distance of tens of meters, there were no wasted shots. The power of the grenade launcher could not be compared to the small barrel of a G9 rifle. A shot hitting the green skin was lethal.
However, the two grenades aimed at the bone leader did not claim his life. He managed to dodge the first one at the last moment—not truly dodging a bullet but making a predictive move based on seeing the Space Marine charging out from behind that red helmet.
As for the grenade that did hit, it landed squarely in his right chest, leaving a gaping hole. The enraged orc chieftain merely paused in stride, showing no sign of weakness, and continued his charge with a howl.
The bone leader had never seen a shrimp of his size—especially one entirely wrapped in red cans—but he could sense this was a formidable foe. He was thrilled to face such a strong opponent!
He raised his thick-bladed cleaver high, slashing at the red-armored giant.
The charging Phoenix Warrior twisted his waist, dodged the slash, and smoothly drew a combat blade, stabbing into the green skin's midsection. With the momentum of the charge, he sliced open the wound, and a large amount of blood mixed with entrails sprayed out.
But the bone leader was still not dead! He even had the strength to counterattack!
He grabbed the Space Marine's arm with one hand, pulling fiercely, and with a trip of his foot, he managed to throw his opponent to the ground.
The bone leader flipped on top, snarling, seemingly oblivious to the pain in his midsection. He pressed one hand against the chin of the Space Marine's helmet, while the other hand raised his thick-backed cleaver high, as if to decapitate the Phoenix this way.
Yet that blow would never land.
In the midst of this, the downed and pinned Phoenix Warrior had rapidly stabbed the bone leader several times in the chest and neck with his combat dagger, ending his life once and for all.
Pushing the corpse aside, the warrior in the red armor stood up, looking around. The battle had all but ended.