Despite the Guardsmen's best efforts to prevent the enemy from crossing the open ground below, after a period of time, the casualties had reached an unbearable level. Zhang Ge had no choice but to order the abandonment of the outer defenses and for them to step back from the windows.
After a quick headcount, Zhang Ge realized that fewer than thirty living souls remained, including seven or eight severely wounded soldiers whose injuries were not immediately life-threatening but rendered them nearly immobile.
The survivors' armor was battered and stained with blood; some even had their weapons broken, using the firearms of fallen comrades.
Silence spread for a few seconds before one of the injured soldiers finally broke the heavy atmosphere mixed with the sounds of gunfire:
"I know a good spot; help me move over there. When they charge, I can at least take down a dozen of them."
A nearby soldier let out a laugh and kicked him in the side. "You? Your hands are shaking worse than after you've fired ten rounds. Don't shoot yourself in the foot."
"Quit talking nonsense. Don't think I didn't notice what you were doing on the bunk above me every night in the military academy. I can still shoot better than you."
Without waiting for Zhang Ge's order, several of the injured began to reposition themselves for the final battle with the help of their comrades. The remaining Guardsmen either stood or sat around casually, some even rummaging through their Carapace Armor to find crumpled cigarettes, lighting them regardless of the obvious ban on open flames during wartime, especially at night.
But everyone understood that at this point, it hardly mattered.
Before long, the gunfire from the enemy outside diminished gradually until it became intermittent.
This was not a sign of a waning offensive; on the contrary, it indicated that the enemy had realized the tower's defenders had abandoned the outer positions. Thus, most of their forces were charging towards the Bell Tower, leaving only a small number to continue suppressive fire.
In the calm before the storm, several familiar soldiers reminisced about past events, sharing laughter, while others moved slightly away from the group to look at photographs by the light, burning them to ashes afterward.
Only Zhang Ge maintained a serious expression. After facing numerous setbacks, even in this atmosphere, he did not open the champagne early but silently calculated the time for reinforcements to arrive.
After several re-evaluations and confirming that even the noble's forces wouldn't be able to arrive until after some sparks had rolled out from their wheels, the tension on Zhang Ge's face finally eased a little.
It's secure; how could Chaos Knights lose?
At the very bottom of the tower, the various armored vehicles originally occupied by the Guards had long since turned into blockages at the entrances. These burning remnants of metal forced the cultists to enter the first layer through the numerous windows.
This not only delayed their troop transport speed but also hindered the movement of heavy weapons.
In the front lines, the traitorous civilians tasked with breaching the defenses eagerly rushed upward, triggering either traps set by the Guards or remnants left behind.
With each explosion, shrapnel and shockwaves claimed several or even dozens of enemies, scattering their dismembered limbs and blood into the air.
Yet the remaining traitorous civilians seemed unfazed; the next second, they charged past the corpses of their fallen comrades, triggering another trap not far away.
Such sounds quickly reached the upper levels, prompting the Guardsmen to end their brief respite.
Zhang Ge did not utter empty reassurances about reinforcements arriving; they were all trained soldiers, not fools. Instead, he issued a clear command:
"Get into defensive positions. It looks like this is our grave, but those who come later will ensure that they—along with more traitors—will be buried with us."
Having said that and seeing the enemy was still not upon them, Zhang Ge added:
"Those who go down to join me should remember to come up one by one."
Before long, the first wave of expendable traitorous civilians poured into the tower. The second wave of elite cultists began to cross the open ground.
It was then, from the dark corners where they had been waiting for a long time, the injured soldiers opened fire. Although the cultists remained on guard, the speed of the laser weaponry was far beyond their ability to respond effectively.
A beam of light shot forth; not even a Chaos Space Marine could evade it in that instant.
Perhaps someone could dodge at the moment the muzzle flared, but only a few could manage that.
As the Hellgun rays generously rained down, their enhanced physiques fell like reeds in a tempest, the flames igniting the steam produced as they rose from the bodies of the cultists.
Although the counterattack quickly turned several wounded soldiers into corpses, their impact had been maximized.
The second wave of cultists trying to enter the tower suffered from sudden casualties, causing disarray among their ranks.
Some were enraged by the ambush and charged towards the tower heedlessly, while others, uncertain if further ambushes lay ahead, decided to conserve their strength and let the traitorous civilians scout ahead.
After all, they currently held an absolute advantage, and taking a bit more time didn't matter.
Inside the tower, the two waves of assaults led by the traitorous civilians failed to breach the Guards' defensive entrance. Hellguns not only vastly outclassed laser rifles in firepower but also excelled as high-quality automatic weapons, providing immense suppressive fire in close-quarters combat—especially with Zhang Ge crouched there with his explosive rounds.
Before the unarmored traitors could react, the majority of them were cut down by the blasts from Zhang Ge's explosive weapons.
The drill missiles easily pierced through entire ranks of enemies, and most of the traitors hit by Zhang Ge's explosive rounds fell under the initial bullets, not even giving them a chance to struggle and waste another shot.
Looking at his dwindling ammunition, Zhang Ge felt that this standoff shouldn't last much longer. Moreover, the other cultists would be charging up soon enough without affecting the overall situation.
Just as he thought this, a voice with a crooked, blasphemous tone echoed from beyond the shooting blind spot around the entrance:
"Defenders inside the tower, if you surrender, we can share in the pleasures... If you refuse, there's another way. You can choose a champion to duel one of us, and under the witness of the True God, the victor may leave safely, either themselves or select one person to go."
"For the witness of the True God," unless it was some blue-haired genius, those words did carry weight.
However, a moment's thought revealed that this duel was inherently unfair. The strongest amongst normal mortals would typically be commanders, while the Chaos side could easily send a brainwashed brute driven solely by a kill-or-be-killed mentality.
Even if they lost, they would at least eliminate one of their forces inside, and once the strength of the defenders was reduced sufficiently, it would be simple to kill the rest. How could a mortal unit possibly select a champion capable of one-on-one combat who could kill more than twenty of them?
Just as Zhang Ge shook his head, mocking their poorly calculated plan, he suddenly realized something.
Beside him, Isis, who had remained silent due to a lack of ranged weapons, suddenly stood up with excitement.
Holy hell, a team champion!
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