The entire battlefield presented a bizarre dual rhythm: biting cold winds, laden with gunpowder smoke, raged across the ice plain, as retreating Astra Militarum forces and advancing armored columns intertwined amidst the swirling snow.
Wounded soldiers, dragging their broken bodies, supported each other, stumbling through the frozen ground towards the transport ships, their bloodstained bandages congealing into dark red ice crystals in the low temperature.
Fully armed armor soldiers, however, were moving against the flow of people towards the front lines; the Leman Russ Tank's treads rolled over the corpses of Orks and the bones of fallen comrades on the battlefield, pressing fractured skulls and frozen severed limbs deep into the permafrost, with ice shards mixed with blood constantly falling from the tread gaps.
The retreating Astra Militarum and the steel torrent briefly converged in the blizzard, their soldiers silently gazing at each other through frosted visors.
The new recruits saw the scar on the tank crew's oil-stained face, running from eyebrow to jaw, while the armor soldiers saw the young girl in the transport convoy weeping while holding a comrade's severed limb—everyone's chapped lips trembled, yet they all understood the tempered resolve in each other's eyes.
For a moment, the entire ice plain was left with only the low rumble of engines and the dull crunch of treads grinding bones and flesh, a sound more invigorating than any pre-battle pep talk.
When the vanguard company of the 7th Armored Regiment broke through the snow curtain, the slaughter on the outskirts of the ruins was unfolding like a hellish tableau.
The knight titans's meltaguns carved searing white trails in the blizzard, melting charging Killa Kans into molten iron, but more green-skinned war machines were pouring out of the ice fissures.
Suddenly, the entire ice plain trembled violently, and the lead Annihilator tank of the vanguard company slammed to an emergency halt, its gunner hitting the targeting scope from the inertia.
Three hundred meters away, the ice shattered with a roar, and a mountain-sized, super-giant Squig burst forth, its warty skin covered in metallic armor, each of its sharp claws comparable to a Power Sword in an Astartes' hand.
This behemoth casually lifted a foot and crushed a Killa Kan into scrap metal, and its spewing acid corroded the ice into boiling, massive pits.
All the greenskins instantly went into a frenzy, their eyes glowing crimson, and while letting out a unified Waaagh, they also charged the Imperial Army's defensive line with greater ferocity, simultaneously cheering a name in Ork.
The knight titans's ion shields flickered violently amidst the roar of the Squig, while the gunners of the armored company tremblingly pushed armor-piercing rounds into the breeches.
The might brought by this giant beast was simply too strong, making everyone's resolve waver.
(Large Squig Beast, comparable in size to a leman russ, the smallest of the Squig Beasts)
(Stompa Squig, a Squig comparable to small Titans like Warhounds)
(Squig Beast vs. regular Ork unit size comparison)
Upon the back of this super-giant Squig, comparable to a Stompa, stood a terrifying figure that struck fear into the hearts of all Imperial soldiers!
Its height approached seven meters, more than twice that of a regular Ork warrior, its bulging muscles rippled beneath crude Ork Power Armor, and every armor plate was covered in grotesque spikes and rivets.
Its left arm was equipped with a massive Power Klaw, its jagged metal claws still bearing fresh bloodstains, occasionally erupting with dazzling electrical arcs.
Its right arm held a terrifying combined big gun, a dozen crude barrels roughly welded together, the muzzle flickering with unstable green light, as if ready to overload and explode at any moment.
When it let out a deafening roar while standing on the Squig's back, the surrounding Ork boys instantly went mad, raising their crude weapons and letting out earth-shattering "WAAAGH!" roars, their eyes burning with fanatical battle intent.
From the commotion it caused upon its appearance and the absolute obedience of the surrounding Orks to it, this behemoth was undoubtedly the ruler of all greenskins on this planet—the Warboss of this planet!
And when the battlefield images were relayed back to the warships in orbit, Alex couldn't help but curse, "Damn it! The Oklin Dragon is out now, what other monstrous things are on this planet?!"
(Oklin Dragon, the Ork's Titan-class beast)
(Oklin Dragon vs. Squig Beast)
The so-called Oklin Dragon is the largest and most terrifying subspecies of Squig in Ork society, a living war fortress.
These monsters, meticulously bred by Savage Ork Painboyz, far exceed the size of ordinary Squig Beasts; their shoulder height alone is comparable to an Imperial Titan, and their weight is measured in thousands of tons.
Their rough skin is covered with a thick layer of keratin, and their surface is also inlaid with rusty metal armor plates, which are less for protection and more to make the behemoth more destructive when charging.
These terrifying beasts are by no means natural products, but rather war monsters cultivated by the strange boys known as "Painboyz" in Savage Greenskin society using insane technology.
These behemoths serve as both mobile fortresses for the tribe, carrying the entire tribe's weaponry and equipment; and as the most formidable heavy war beasts, capable of wreaking havoc on the battlefield.
Their rough skin is covered with heavy metal armor plates, each plate covered with spikes and rivets, emitting a deafening roar as they move.
Ork Mekboyz have constructed crude war platforms on their backs, mounting various crude but astonishingly powerful artillery pieces to provide fire support for the charging greenskin boys.
On the battlefield, an Oklin Dragon is like a moving mountain; each colossal footfall can crush an entire squad of infantry into paste, and its tusks, curved like scimitars, can easily pierce the side armor of armored vehicles.
The shockwaves they generate when charging can even overturn light vehicles, and the battlefield is littered with the wreckage of Imperial Army equipment crushed by them.
Soldiers who tried to stop them were often crushed into bloody paste before they could even scream.
Yet now, such a beast, carrying a seemingly incredibly powerful Warboss, was charging towards the Imperial Army's positions.
That Ork warlord, whose size was comparable to a Dreadnought, stood on the Oklin Dragon's back, brandishing a massive Power Klaw and letting out a deafening war cry.
He was clad in heavy armor cobbled together from scrap metal and armor plates, each metal plate painted with a red livery symbolizing slaughter.
The countless Ork boys followed him, roaring their Waaagh like a tsunami, their crude weapons glinting in the sunlight, their war cries shaking the very ice plain.
At this moment, the Imperial Army's defensive line was precarious, as if it would be swallowed by the green tide at any moment.
The soldiers gripped their weapons, looking at the approaching green tide, their faces filled with despair.
But just at this critical juncture, the Imperial Knights stationed outside the ancient ruins quickly formed ranks, and they actually launched a counter-charge against the green tide!
These noble war machines deployed their ion shields, and their meltaguns and battle cannons fired simultaneously, blasting searing gaps in the green tide.
The Knight Family's banners flapped in the cold wind, and they shouted their oaths to the Emperor, charging fearlessly towards that terrifying Oklin Dragon.
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