In the midst of a desperate situation where he was about to be beaten to death, a sudden, fleeting glint of ferocious light flared in Grogg's bloodshot eyes. He took a sudden step back, opened his raspy throat, and let out a deafening roar toward the depths of the ship: "Little Un! Get out 'ere! Time for meat!"
Rumble—!!
Following that call, the floor of the entire corridor began to vibrate violently, as if a runaway armored train were approaching. Seconds later, the reinforced metal side walls were smashed through like paper, and a mountain-sized beast roared as it charged into the battlefield.
It was a gargantuan Squig, ten meters tall! Its barbed, muscular body nearly filled the entire width of the main corridor. Its cavernous maw hung open, revealing fangs thicker than an Ogryn's thigh, with foul-smelling saliva cascading down like a waterfall.
Looking at this monster that nearly scraped the ceiling, the front-line Ogryn players couldn't help but gasp. The voice chat exploded instantly: "Holy crap! You call this thing 'Little Un'?"
"This is freaking Godzilla!"
"The devs are heartless! We finally grinded the boss down, and there's a Phase Two?!"
Grogg laughed maniacally and leapt into the air. Despite having one useless arm, he nimbly jumped onto the beast's back, where a crude iron throne had been welded. He grabbed the reins with his remaining left hand and yanked hard: "Charge! Stomp these puny 'umies!"
Roar—!
The giant Squig let out a soul-shaking howl, lowered its head, and charged like a bulldozer.
"Hold the line! Don't let it break the formation!"
"For the Emperor! Aaaaaah!"
The Ogryn players displayed breathtaking bravery. Hundreds of heavy-armored Ogryns roared and pushed back, actually attempting to use their bodies to block the behemoth.
Bang!!!
The tooth-grinding sound of clashing flesh and bone echoed through the bridge. The giant Squig's impact was terrifying; over a dozen Ogryns were sent flying instantly, and some were flattened into meat paste by the massive paws. But the remaining Ogryns fought to the death and refused to retreat. They braced their shoulders against the Squig's legs and grabbed its fangs with their hands, remarkably forcing the charging beast to slow down.
It was a pure contest of strength—hundreds of Ogryns acting like ants dragging down a giant tree.
"Shoot! Focus fire on its eyes and mouth!"
The heavy weapon specialists in the back poured out firepower frantically. However, the Squig's thick hide was essentially natural armor; bullets only kicked up small blossoms of blood without causing fatal damage.
The maddened Squig jerked its head, its sharp fangs skewering three players hanging onto it. Then, it opened its massive mouth and swallowed an Ogryn player who was trying to attack its throat.
"Someone got eaten!"
"Haha! Good eating!" The swallowed player didn't scream in the voice chat; instead, he let out a resolute roar: "Grandson! Taste this! Melta bomb—ACTIVATED!"
The next second, the rampaging giant Squig suddenly stiffened. Its belly bulged outward for a moment, followed by a muffled explosion from within.
Boom—Pfft!
Scorching steam and organ fragments erupted violently from the Squig's eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. The invincible beast didn't even have time to wail before its massive body collapsed, crashing onto the floor like a mountain of meat, twitching twice before going still.
"Whoa!"
Grogg, perched on its back, was thrown off violently, slamming onto the blood-stained deck. His already heavily injured body was now in even worse shape. Blood gushed from his mouth, and he was down to his very last breath.
He struggled to crawl up, his eyes blurred as he looked at the figures surrounding him, seemingly trying to say one last defiant thing: "I—I's invincible—"
However, the players didn't give him the chance.
"Quick, quick! He's still got a breath left!"
"Don't talk! Watch out for a Phase Three transformation!"
"Finish him! Execute! Don't let him finish the cast!"
Having been traumatized by the "Phase Two" surprise, the Ogryn players were like startled birds, terrified he might pull another trick. In an instant, hundreds of Ogryns swarmed him. Countless clubs, autocannons used as clubs, and even fists and feet rained down frantically on the Warboss.
"Ora ora ora ora!!!"
There was no honorable duel, nor any final words.
Barely ten seconds later, when the panting players dispersed, there was no trace of Warboss Grogg left.
Only a patch of red-and-green meat pancake remained, smashed so deep into the metal floor that one couldn't tell front from back—a silent testament to the brutality of the "Fourth Calamity."
As Bazgrogg was hammered into unrecognizable mush, the frantic "WAAAGH!" energy that held the Greenskin warband together dissipated instantly.
The Orks still putting up a final stand in the corners felt as if their spines had been removed. Looking at the puddle of meat that used to be their boss, fear overwhelmed their bloodlust. These formerly ferocious aliens shrieked, dropped their choppas and guns, and scattered through the ship's corridors like headless flies.
"Don't pursue."
Just as the blood-crazed Ogryn players were about to hunt down the stragglers, an authoritative voice rang out in the comms channel.
Lugal Huron, Chapter Master of the Astral Claws, strode onto the front lines in his power armor, stepping over piles of severed limbs. He glanced at the meat pancake on the floor, then at the blood-soaked, demon-like Ogryns. A flash of undisguised admiration crossed his eyes.
"Let them run; they cannot escape this void," Huron ordered in a deep voice. "All units withdraw to our ships. Leave the rest to the macro-cannons and lance batteries. There is no need to shed another drop of blood for these beaten dogs."
Hearing the order, the Ogryn players reluctantly stopped and began to reform their squads.
Huron surveyed the group of giants and suddenly removed his helmet, revealing his face. He walked to the front of the line, his gaze sweeping over every player.
"Listen, brothers!" Huron's voice was booming and infectious, echoing through the smoke-filled corridor. "I have seen countless mortals wet themselves before the roar of a Greenskin, and I have seen so-called elites break and wail in desperation. But today, you have impressed me!"
"You faced enemies many times your number, you faced that terrifying beast, and you did not take a single step back! You built a line of steel with your flesh and crushed the alien's ambitions with your courage!"
Moved by the moment, Huron walked straight to a player who had been at the very front holding back the Squig. This player was covered in Squig slime and organ bits, looking utterly disheveled.
Under the shocked gazes of both Space Marines and players, Huron opened his arms and gave the slightly shorter Ogryn a powerful embrace.
"The Emperor is proud of you, my brothers," Huron said sincerely, slapping the Ogryn's thick backplate hard. "And I am honored to have fought by your side."
The embraced Ogryn player froze, then started shouting in the chat: "Holy crap! The Chapter Master hugged me! Screenshot! Take a screenshot, guys!"
This sudden warmth ignited the players' emotions, and a cheer erupted from the crowd.
At that moment, an Ogryn player carrying a rotary autocannon squeezed forward sheepishly. His weapon's barrels were glowing red-hot and slightly deformed; the ammo belt on his back was long empty.
"Um—Boss Huron," the player scratched his head, pointing at his pile of nearly ruined scrap metal. "That fight was too intense, and our gear is all busted. The barrels are bent, the shields are cracked, and most importantly, we ran out of bullets ages ago. We were hitting people with the gun butts just now—"
Other players chimed in, showing off their gear with zero durability.
Huron looked at the severely damaged equipment. Instead of being angry, he laughed heartily.
"Is that all?"
He waved his hand with the grandiosity and dominance unique to the Tyrant of Badab: "Gear broken? Get new ones! Out of ammo? Bring more! We, the Astral Claws, possess the resources of the entire Badab Sector!"
He pointed to the Astral Claws Techmarines arriving behind him and promised loudly: "Give it to them! Give them as much as they want! Bolters, autocannons, power armor, heavy shields—whatever is in our armory, just ask! Infinite supply! I want my Ogryn brothers to have the heaviest firepower to kick the enemy's ass!"
"Wooooooooh!!"
"The boss is so generous!"
"This NPC is freaking awesome!"
"This is what you call vision! This is what you call character!"
The Ogryn players erupted in cheers even louder than when they defeated the boss. For a player, nothing was more endearing than a faction leader who gave both honor and top-tier gear, while promising infinite supplies.
Watching the cheering Ogryns, a satisfied smile curled at the corner of Huron's mouth. Exchanging a few thousand sets of fine equipment for the absolute loyalty of these terrifying war machines? This was easily the best deal in the galaxy.