Deep into the night, the enemy had temporarily ceased its assault. Even the bombardment had fallen silent; the traitors apparently had no wish to squander further shells on them.
As for the last position on the hillside, the cultist commander could not fathom its resilience. It had been on the verge of collapse only moments before—how had it suddenly become so...
Within the trenches, Duvall had the men gather every usable supply they could find nearby. After assigning sentries for the night watch, he returned to an air-raid shelter.
Under the wan glow of a kerosene lamp, several surviving officers had gathered together, each face bearing, to one degree or another, the same uncertainty about what lay ahead.
Though they had barely held the position during the battle at dusk, the breach of this defensive line had already become an inevitability.
Stroud was the exception. He lounged sideways on a cot, his filthy side cap pulled over his face. He had always been that way. Even death was no great matter to him.
"Sir!"
At Duvall’s entrance, they rose and saluted. Their feelings toward the trainee Commissar who had led them in holding the line were complicated.
After all, this man had personally executed their Company commander despite possessing no formal authority—yet he had indeed led them to victory.
Duvall nodded for them to sit, then moved to a cot. In silence, he studied the officers. Their complexions were somewhat ash-grey compared to ordinary Terrans, perhaps owing to the environment of their home world.
He searched his inherited memories for information on them. From the memories of the former Duvall, he knew that the Ashen Watchers had been founded upon the death world of K3192. They were famed for reconnaissance, guerrilla warfare, exceptional mobility, and their ability to retain combat effectiveness even amid the harshest conditions.
The 101st Regiment had been raised during the Third Founding, three thousand strong and divided into twenty Companies. It was designated a light infantry regiment. Each Company contained three infantry platoons, and each platoon five squads.
Now, their Sixth Company had been reduced to forty-three souls...
At last, Duvall broke the oppressive silence. "...Stroud, have we still failed to reach the regimental command channel?"
"No." The bald man swiftly sat upright and shook his head. "Nothing but that damned wailing and shrieking. Listen to it long enough, and even the vox-operators start to lose their composure."
Duvall nodded again, about to speak, when a notification abruptly appeared in his vision.
[Congratulations. You have led your Legion in holding the line for the first time. The enemy has withdrawn. You have gained 100 points of the Emperor’s Wrath. The Legion Blade System has been activated.]
"The enemy has withdrawn? And what is the Legion Blade?"
"What?" Stroud asked, looking at the self-muttering Duvall.
"Go and try the regimental command channel again," Duvall told Stroud. But as the man acknowledged the order and prepared to find the vox-operator, Duvall called him back. "No. Wait. You."
He changed his mind at the last moment, ordering another officer—a hugely built, heavily bearded man—to establish contact instead.
Compared to Stroud’s gaunt, consumptive frame, the other man was built like a bear.
Duvall turned back and studied the golden Imperial Aquila hovering above Stroud’s head, frowning in thought. Beneath it was written: [Potential Elite: Scout].
"Stroud... what were you before you joined the Astra Militarum?"
At Duvall’s question, Stroud scratched his hairless scalp. "I was a hunter."
Duvall seemed to understand. "I have an important task for you. Pick a few men and find out whether the cultists below the hill have truly withdrawn. Keep quiet. Do not let them spot you."
"All right. I’ll give it a try."
After Stroud left, another notification appeared in Duvall’s vision.
[Would you like to expend 100 points of the Emperor’s Wrath to bind your soul to Stroud? Upon binding, his personal Loyalty will remain permanently at 100%.]
Once Duvall chose yes, a new skill tree exclusive to Stroud unfolded before him.
[Umbral Branch]
[If you hear the wind whispering in the shadows, it is us seeing you on your way.]
[Initial Skill: Chameleon Camouflage]
[Even while wearing ordinary camouflage, the bearer will appear invisible to the enemy. The bearer can deceive basic auspex scans and thermal imaging.]
Hiss! Duvall’s eyes shone with delight. Excellent. It seemed he could cultivate elite personal guards of his own.
As he closely examined the Legion Blade System, the bearded officer hurried back into the air-raid shelter.
"Sir, our vox communication seems to have returned, but..."
Duvall immediately followed him to the vox-operator. A desperate request for aid came through the newly restored regimental channel.
"All units... this is... Command! ...We are... engaged by the rebel main force... requesting all support! ...I repeat, this is..."
Krrrzzzt... The vox-channel died again.
"Sir, what should we do?" the bearded officer asked, looking at Duvall’s grim expression.
"...Your name is Anderson Walker?"
"Yes, sir." The towering, bearded officer was surprised that the trainee Commissar remembered his name.
"Gather everyone. Tell them to prepare. Once Stroud returns from his reconnaissance, we move to reinforce the main defensive line." According to the System’s earlier notification, Duvall judged that the cultists had most likely abandoned their assault on this position and bypassed it from both flanks to encircle the regiment’s main force. In their eyes, the forty-odd survivors under his command probably did not even qualify as a threat.
"Yes, sir!"
Second Lieutenant Anderson immediately saluted, then went to notify the men resting in the trenches and air-raid shelters.
Duvall did not wait long. Stroud and his small squad soon circled back into the trenches through the shadows on the far side of the hillside.
At that moment, Duvall sat before a map, deep in thought.
"Sir!" Stroud returned to the air-raid shelter. "The bulk of those cultists have indeed pulled back. Only a small number remain behind."
Duvall nodded and motioned Stroud to the map. He pointed to a marking upon it.
"Here. This is our position."
"Yes, boss."
"I see. Ours is the only high ground in the surrounding area. Without us, the main force cannot receive precise ranging coordinates. They will be blind. No wonder the enemy threw itself at us with such suicidal fury..."
After a moment of silence, Duvall pointed again, this time at a marking to the right rear of their position.
"This is the regiment’s main force."
"Yes."
"The line we were assigned to defend exists to prevent the enemy from striking the cities in the rear... to buy time for friendly forces on the other fronts... But should this not have been the work of an Astra Militarum regiment like the Cadians? Using a light infantry regiment to plug the line..."
Duvall pondered for a long while, but could find not a scrap of useful intelligence in his inherited memories. A trainee Commissar lacked the clearance to know such things. He could only scratch his chin.
"Now the enemy has abandoned its attempt to crush us. They believe we pose no threat."
His finger tapped repeatedly upon the marker denoting the enemy’s main force.
"They have simply left us sitting behind their arses." Duvall gave a cold laugh. "They will regret it."
At that moment, the bearded officer, Second Lieutenant Anderson, returned to the air-raid shelter.
"Sir, everyone is ready."
Duvall glanced over the Company’s status.
[Overall Supplies: 60%] [Overall Loyalty: 80%] [Overall Morale: 70%] [Overall Sanity: 65%] [Chaos Corruption: 30% (Recovering)]
"Excellent, men. Let us give these bastards a most unpleasant surprise!"
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