Forty thousand years later, he became a god in the warp

Chapter 430: Gathering and Advancing to Avoid the Sandstorm

Harold chewed the Type C military rations in big mouthfuls. The coarse crumbs absorbed all the moisture in his mouth. It was difficult to swallow and made his mouth sore from exhaustion.

He patted his chest, trying to make the food easier to swallow. The "bang bang" sound was accompanied by the rumbling sound of the chariot passing by him.

The sand rolled over by the tracks made a rustling sound. The only five remaining tanks were lined up in a row several dozen meters apart. The fifty infantrymen behind them used this as cover and moved forward slowly. On the undulating sand, no one knew who was waiting for them behind the sand dunes.

The scouts sent signals and lasers to instruct the vanguard troops to continue moving forward, while a large force escorting baggage followed one kilometer behind the troops.

The wind and sand seemed to be blowing stronger and stronger. Harold had to wrap a square scarf around his face and observe Rebos's situation through a tiny gap.

Thanks to him, he could actually sit in a military truck instead of having to travel on foot. Grateful, he watched him repair the communication base station in the shaking car, and took a ration bar from his backpack and said:

"Sir Rebos, I...I see you haven't eaten for a day, would you like to join us?"

Ration sticks were handed out from the rear window, but Rebos didn't even look at them. He just fiddled with the communication equipment and muttered a series of digital coordinates.

Harold was met with a cold shoulder. He withdrew his arm and put the ration stick back into his backpack. The driver glanced at his backpack and couldn't help laughing:

"My God, you've eaten the ration packs so many times, haven't you been driven away by the difficulty of swallowing? You are just too honest. If you taste the delicious dishes made by Sterling sniper using scraps, you will definitely hate these things.

Ah, I really miss that guy. Although he is a shameless thief, his cooking and sniping skills are indeed obvious to all. After all, if he didn't steal, we wouldn't be able to eat good food. "

The driver looked after the moment, while Harold blushed. He patiently tied up his backpack and said shyly:

"We've never eaten this before. Although it doesn't taste as good as the stew my wife makes, it's filling. I want to bring it back for my kids to try on my vacation."

"Yes, man." The man with the scar on his face nodded, but then said helplessly: "But you don't really think you will have vacation time, do you?"

Harold's face froze and he was about to ask a question, but a mechanical arm stretched out in front of him first, with two boxes of red cans on it.

"I don't need it, keep it."

The voice inside was short and powerful, which made Harold subconsciously reach out to take it, but he had not received a decent education and had only a vague understanding of the words on it.

But the driver next to him exclaimed, and while controlling the car with one hand, he took a box with the other hand and said:

"Wow! I've seen this thing before. The pattern looks like fruit. It's probably a can of Akenberry. This! This is a good thing that only captains can eat. It's not available every day."

Harold couldn't even enjoy the hissing corn on the farm, let alone high-end items like canned fruit. He just heard that it was a juicy, sweet and delicious food, but he couldn't imagine it.

"Ah, Lord Rebos, is this okay?"

"Fool, the Excellency has already told you what you are asking... Whoever sees it gets a share. I'm not trying to trick you. Wait for Sterling from the investigation to come back and let him use this thing to make you a good meal."

The driver put the canned frontier food in the door storage box and told Harold the story of the Sterling sub-race with a smile on his face.

Although Harold was jealous of the canned fruit that was taken away, Lord Rebos did not say that it was only kept for him.

After stroking the can for a long time, he finally placed it in the deepest part of his backpack, sighing that the indifferent other party could warm others in the most unique way.

As the truck swayed, Harold and the driver gradually became familiar with each other. The driver Jackson was a drag racer in Hive City No. 3. He usually made some money from smuggling goods. Unfortunately, the Ministry of Justice did not give him a chance to defend himself.

"After several months of intensive training and the protection of the Emperor of God, the military officer was able to see through me and arranged a driving job for me, which allowed my past to continue to shine.

Besides, the company commander and political commissar told me to drive as fast as I could, and although it’s not as fast as my beloved car, it’s still some consolation.”

"But it is much more dangerous."

"It doesn't matter. What we're looking for is excitement. This place is much more enjoyable than my previous one! Hahahahaha."

Harold admired the other person's mentality, and if he had special skills like the other person, he might be able to provide a better life for his wife and daughter.

He took out the piece of cloth placed in the interlayer of his bulletproof armor. There were some blurry graffiti on it, which was a family portrait of his third daughter. It was very sloppy, but it was the only thing he pinned his thoughts on.

"I'll bring it back for you to try..."

Harold was talking to himself and looking into the distance. The sand hitting the window in the dim light startled him. He quickly opened the car window and observed and listened to the cries in the wilderness.

The happy time made him less vigilant. As a farmer outside the hive city, he would often encounter abnormal weather. The rolling sand and dust were not simply blown by the wind, but...

"sandstorm!"

"What? Close the window first, puff... puff..."

"Jackson..this time you really have to drive as fast as you can..."

Harold closed the window and turned on the walkie-talkie, shouting at the political commissar on the other end to call the police. Jackson was confused and looked behind him through the left rearview mirror, frowning and squinting, thinking about the confused words just now until his heart was pounding.

"Fuck you! Sand...sandstorm!"

Behind the ochre-red sand dunes in the rearview mirror, an endless black wall seemed to be rising, and a deadly sandstorm covering millions of square kilometers was surging towards them.

Jackson took out the map and slid his fingers across it quickly, trying to find a hiding place on this paper that seemed to have not been updated for more than ten years, or did not need to be updated.

A mechanical tentacle stretched out from the window and pointed at a certain place on the map in front of the two people's gaze. Then a voice without any concern came from the carriage.

"Extremely strong sandstorm, you can survive if you reach the target point within 15 minutes."

"..."

"..."

"Damn it! March quickly, abandon all disposable supplies, and reach the target point in the shortest possible time!"

The commissar's voice came from the walkie-talkie, and all vehicles set off at full power. All those who could carry people were stuffed into the tanks, and as many people as possible were put on the tanks. All the documents on board were discarded, and the soldiers were allowed to board instead.

The clerk cursed loudly, but no one cared. Countless equipment and supplies were thrown into the red sand, just to bring as many soldiers as possible.

The wind blew and the sand surged. In less than ten minutes, the black wall behind them was so close that it seemed within reach. The flying sand hit the car body with a crackling sound, and the sound made them feel pain on their faces.

The angry gale was even about to overturn the truck, but Jackson was indeed a skilled driver, and he was able to move forward in the wind and sand relying solely on his sense of the car. Every time the vehicle tilted, he would quickly adjust the direction with his hands and eyes.

"Whoosh!"

"Snapped!"

A spatula with a broken handle pierced through the right side window in the wind and sand. The instantaneous rupture made the two extremely nervous people scream in fear at the same time.

At this moment, the wind and sand in front of him changed, and a weathered wall suddenly appeared. Jackson was frightened and turned the steering wheel, and the truck turned sideways and hit the earth wall.

But then the red marker lights in front came into view again. They caught up with the tank, but couldn't stop the car... There was another loud "bang", and the two of them flew up at the same time.

"Snapped!"

......

"All...vehicles...connect head to tail...all...soldiers...gather...between the stone wall and...vehicles...hold...water bottles...wait...sand..."

The intermittent voice on the walkie-talkie woke Harold up. This time he strictly followed the discipline of wearing a helmet. At most, he was a little frightened mentally. Compared with the neighbor...

"Jackson..Jackson!"

At this time, the front windshield of the truck had been broken, and the culprit was Jackson, who was not wearing a helmet or a seat belt.

"Fuck... I finally woke up... My neck... Ah it hurts... I'm not dead yet... The God-Emperor is still fucking looking at me... Hahaha..."

Harold was overjoyed and hurried forward to move Jackson down from the window. His face was covered in blood and stuck with a lot of sand. He looked extremely scary and miserable.

"How long have we been unconscious?"

"About five or six minutes?"

"Five or six... Lord Rebos!"

Harold looked towards the carriage, but apart from the huge signal equipment, there was no one else.

"What about people?!"

"Don't worry about him. He may not be hurt even if all the remaining troops are killed. Wrap my head first."

He opened the first aid kit and bandaged Jackson's wounds. He was really lucky. Although he had many wounds, none of them were deep. It seemed that his ankle was sprained, and he couldn't walk for a while.

"Let's not go, it's not much safer in the car than outside, let's just wait and it'll be over...hiss."

The overwhelming dust made the light of the tank's marker lights in front of them barely detectable. It seemed as if their truck was the only thing left in the world, and it was lonely amid the howling of ghosts and wolves.

The desperate journey was over, and the adrenaline was almost gone. Fatigue covered every corner of the body. The two yawned, their thoughts gradually drifting away in the repetitive sound.

Just as Harold was about to fall asleep, he suddenly noticed a dark shadow passing by the truck. He recalled that not every soldier could ride in a vehicle, and if there was no guidance from behind, some poor people might get lost.

"Boom! Boom!"

He knocked on the distorted car door, trying to make a sound to alert his fellow citizens so that they would not go the wrong way. He honked the horn to attract the crowd and provide them with the direction to go.

"This way! Come this way!"

The shadow approached, and the face pressed against the cracked car window made Harold's heart stop. The grass-green face with fangs was not his comrade-in-arms as he had assumed, but an orc who had also come to avoid the wind and sand.

"Waaagh!"

The orc's axe smashed the car window, and the broken glass splashed all over the two of them. Jackson, who was sleeping, finally woke up, but with his sleepy eyes he still couldn't react to what had happened.

"Orcs!"

Harold yelled, pulled out the dagger from his military boots, grabbed the axe handle and pushed it aside, used his hands and feet and half of his body to jump out of the car window, aimed at the orc's neck and slashed with the knife.

Although the wind and sand absorbed the gushing blood, Harold truly felt the warmth on his palm for the first time. When the orc fell under the car, he realized for the first time that he had killed the orc so quickly.

"Fuck, what's going on!"

Jackson covered his neck and screamed, while Harold turned around and covered his mouth.

"Don't talk. There must be a lot of orcs outside. I guess they just happened to gather together to avoid the sandstorm. I'm going to inform the political commissar and ask them to get ready... You... you are injured, please keep an eye on my backpack for me."

"You're crazy! Is it worth it?"

Jackson really didn't understand the other party's behavior. It was already difficult to survive, so why did he make things difficult for himself?

Harold looked at the shaking arms, then he grasped the orc's fallen axe with both hands, jumped out of the car window and said:

"The Commissar and Mr. Rebos saved my life. I cannot let them down."

Having said that, the strong sand wind still blew him all over the place, and he couldn't open his eyes at all. A large amount of sand and dust penetrated every hole, and soon filled the gaps in his clothes.

He could only squint his eyes and rub forward along the wall, trying to determine the other person's identity from the figure formed by the wind and sand, but his five fingers were completely swallowed up by the wind and sand as soon as he stretched out his hand, so that he could not pay attention to his feet at all.

He fell to the ground with a "plop" and a red line appeared at the place where his head was just. After feeling around, Harold saw the miserable state of the soldiers on the ground. At the same time, the sound of shouting and killing came floating over.

He immediately crawled forward, and after crawling about 20 to 30 meters, the strong smell of feet almost made him fall over. So the sharp axe swung and chopped off the orc's ankle. The orc fell to his knees in pain, and the axe blade behind him attacked him one after another.

A figure passed by again, and he held his breath and chopped down with the axe. There was a "bang" of metal colliding, and a buzzing sound in response.

"Grass!"

Harold screamed and his body stiffened. He glanced sideways at the charred hole on his shoulder, felt the warmth coming from above, and silently thanked the God-Emperor for his protection.

"Damn it, is he one of us?"