Traveling through the Warhammer world, but I didn’t cry.

The artillery of the last tanks and super-heavy tanks began to roar, and the explosions and dust caused by several rounds of rapid salvos completely engulfed the figure of that thing.

Except for the sound of dirt and gravel falling to the ground and the sizzling sound of the earth being scorched, there was no movement in the area covered by fire.

Angry roars, injured wails, the sound of flesh disintegrating and spurting out blood, there was nothing, the silence was eerie.

Vaguely, the soldiers seemed to see the figure approaching them in the smoke and dust again. The armored troops fired several more rounds of volleys, shooting all the explosive bombs and artillery shells they loaded. Even the war-torn barrel began to turn slightly red, and the tank machine soul buzzed impatiently. .

Did that thing... stop?

Everyone was thinking this in their hearts, and then they saw the result after the armored troops fired a round of ammunition.

The guy staggered out of the smoke and slapped the clouds around his head with his hands. There were still not many injuries on his body, but he changed from approaching slowly to running at a trot.

"Here he comes! Bayonet on!"

Soldiers on the ground crawled out of the trenches and charged the attackers with guns equipped with monomolecular bayonets.

Can a bayonet stop this thing? They don't know, but they don't care.

The bayonets were stabbed into the attacker's abdomen and head. These sharp single-molecule weapons that could penetrate ceramite armor failed to demonstrate their effectiveness.

Each one was twisted like a tree root, and those sharp blades shattered as easily as glass.

The soldiers' assault failed to stop him. They tried to use their bodies to drag the damn thing in front of them. They tried every means and measure to leave wounds on the enemy.

But they achieve nothing but constant breaking.

Broken bayonets, shattered guns, shattered sapper shovels, shattered stone and rebar.

The soldiers rushed forward to hold him down, but found that they could do nothing except stack on top of him and be dragged along.

The pulling team became longer and longer, and all the troops who had fired their bullets came closer. They held hands and worked together to try to stop this weird thing that completely ignored them.

They failed.

I don't know whose coat was pulled down by such a huge force, and it started to feel a little unbearable. It tore a hole, and then it became more and more uncontrollable.

He could not suppress the violent breathing under the mask, and the rattling of the muscles and bones all over his body. The crowd that was working together broke away, and many people fell to the ground unexpectedly. They were breathing heavily. They stood on the ground and looked at the backs of those who left, feeling a little dazed for a moment.

The armored troops rolled over one by one, trying to crush the damn thing under the tracks and turn it into mud mixed with the soil. But they didn't have any hope for this. Their shells and bullets didn't even make a scratch on it, let alone that the tank could crush this thing.

The tank crew silently performed an aquila salute and then crashed into it.

Amidst the crunching and shattering sounds, the tank was already operating at its limit, but it still failed to move further.

The crewmen were horrified to see from the car window that the thing's body had been embedded in the surface armor, and then used its strength to break through bit by bit, pushing the tank back.

The tank crew watched the cracks on the front armor become more and more obvious. They silently took out the pistol at their waist and pointed it at the monster that was about to rush in.

A man with closed eyes squeezed into the not-so-large tank. He was swaying as if he hadn't woken up yet. He asked the others in his sleep, "Do you have anything to eat?"

No one answered his question. Everyone just pulled the trigger and watched him go through the entire tank room, tearing apart everything in front of him.

Boom!

There was also a large human-shaped hole in the armor on the back of the tank. The crew numbly pulled the trigger of the pistol. The thing had already fired all the bullets and energy, but they were too lazy to replace it with new magazines.

In the face of this kind of thing, attacking seems to be a wasteful behavior.

More and more soldiers came closer and did not stop his steps because they knew it was meaningless. They just watched him indifferently and numbly as he walked step by step towards the largest and strongest bunker in the position.

The officers in the bunker saw the thing getting closer and closer to them, but they did not panic or waver. Silently he took out the weapon and chain sword from his waist and waited for the door to open.

The heavy explosion-proof metal door was knocked open like a paper window, and they could finally clearly see all the details of what they were trying to defend.

A younger, medium-sized man, with a heavy look of sleepiness on his face and confusion about not being able to figure out the situation, hung around his neck a poorly carved bloody icon, and a non-reflective metal disc.

"what do you?"

No shots were fired, the colonel just asked questions without any emotion.

"Is there anything to eat?"

To everyone's surprise, that thing was inexplicably easy to talk to and not aggressive. The colonel slowly put down his gun, took a few steps closer, and opened a box in the corner of the bunker.

Alas, the box was opened by the colonel, and there was no damage.

The colonel must have opened this solidly closed box many times.

He took out a stick of corpse starch, unwrapped it, and handed the bland food to the man who asked for it.

The colonel watched helplessly as the guy stuffed the corpse starch stick into his mouth, chewed it twice before swallowing it, then walked around the colonel and squatted in the corner, tore the packages of other supplies and started eating.

Everyone watched him feasting in the bunker. One person stopped after eating enough corpse starch sticks for a day's supply for 750 people.

He wiped his mouth, yawned, huddled aside and began to fall asleep.

The colonel put away his pistol and saber, then sat at the table and sent a messenger to inquire about the situation on the battlefield.

While waiting for the communication soldier to report the results, he silently connected to the communication line of his superiors. He needed to find someone who could deal with this strange thing, or who could prove what it was to help him.

Soon, a state church archbishop and a communications officer from the Inquisition took over the channel.

"Colonel Hans, have you discovered something that seems to be a demon's creation?"

"Yes."

"Did you eliminate him?"

"No."

"Then you should eliminate him! Instead of wasting time here! Wasting our time!"

The Astra Militarum cuts cans with their hands (so sometimes the warhammer's combat power is really erratic, sometimes the can is Superman, and sometimes it's just a large infantryman)