Invincible after death, but in Warhammer 40K

At this point, Zhang Ge couldn't voice any objections. He could only bow slightly as he stepped through the hatch and found the nearest seat to settle into.

The moment his hand touched the cabin wall, the dim lighting inside the Chimera suddenly brightened a few degrees. The previously aggressive roar of the engine took on an oddly... pleasant tone? It was akin to the way car enthusiasts might revel in the sound of a sports car's engine revving.

This unexpected change even managed to soothe the previously irritable Ogren's nerves, if only slightly.

Following Zhang Ge, the Commissar stepped into the cabin as well, casually closing the hatch behind him. The only light remaining inside now came from the white glow of the wall-mounted lamps.

Once seated, the Commissar pulled out a map and displayed it to the group in the cabin, saying:

"While we don't have precise intelligence on the heretics' troop deployments, based on the intensity of attacks encountered by various units earlier, we've conducted a rough analysis of their approximate distribution."

His chainsword left a shallow mark on the thin leather map, not cutting through to the back.

"The PDF will launch an assault on the area with the densest enemy presence to draw their forces there. Meanwhile, we'll break through at a weaker point. Two Sentinel walkers and a squad of Astra Militarum will provide cover for us."

After finishing his briefing, the Commissar glanced around the cabin and found that only one and a half people seemed to be paying attention. Zhang Ge was fully focused, while Ogren was barely pretending to listen.

The Sister of Battle and the Priest were silently praying, while the Psyker appeared utterly lost in thought, as if their mind had wandered to another plane of existence. To an outsider, they might have looked like a lifeless corpse.

The Commissar shook his head but chose not to comment further.

Before long, a whistle sounded, and the muffled noise of explosions could once again be heard in the distance. Judging by the sounds, it was likely mortar shells and... some kind of locally manufactured howitzer rounds.

At that moment, the Chimera's engine roared to life with renewed vigor. It was as if it had received some kind of signal, accelerating from a standstill to an incredible speed in an instant, its treads kicking up dirt and dust that scattered in all directions.

The red Chimera shot out of the defensive position like an arrow loosed from a bow, leaving the two Sentinels and the Astra Militarum squad—originally meant to coordinate with it—far behind. Even though the Sentinel pilots quickly realized something was amiss and pushed their machines to their limits, they couldn't catch up to the rapidly disappearing red vehicle.

Meanwhile, inside the sealed cabin, the six passengers were completely unaware of what was happening. Only Zhang Ge, gripping the edge of his seat, asked with some confusion:

"Is it just me, or is the bumpiness and acceleration a bit... excessive?"

Surprisingly, the first to respond was the Psyker, who seemed to snap out of their trance:

"Hehehe, what, do you wish we'd slow down and let the heretics tear us apart? Oh yes, being torn apart might not be such a bad fate after all. Death!

What a beautiful word. Let us embrace it together... hehe, hahahaha..."

As he spoke, he unexpectedly started laughing to himself. His dry, raspy laughter echoed within the vehicle cabin.

It was clear he had no intention of stopping, but Ogren, after glancing at the Commissar and receiving a subtle nod of approval, leaned forward.

Thud.

Ogren's broad palm came down, a heavy strike like a warhammer that silenced the psyker. The man returned to the pale, trance-like serenity that Zhang Ge had first seen—head tilted back, lost in his own world.

However, the two drivers and one weapons operator separated from Zhang Ge's group by just a single partition were far from serene. To their horror, they discovered that none of their controls worked on the armored vehicle. Every hatch was locked, leaving them no way to escape.

As for the usual rituals meant to appease the machine spirit, they elicited no response whatsoever.

The Chimera was now hurtling forward of its own accord, racing in a specific direction with unstoppable momentum.

Their cries for help and frantic struggles were drowned out by the roar of the engine.

The vehicle crushed the corpses of cultists strewn across the battlefield in the wake of their failed assault. After some time at full speed, the cultists' forward position came into view in the distance.

The crude fortifications, barely resembling proper trenches, had been hastily constructed in a relatively flat area.

Cultists gathered in small groups, performing various blasphemous rituals and ceremonies, with only a token defensive force stationed on the perimeter.

It wasn't that the cult leaders didn't want to organize a proper defense, but rather that they lacked the capacity to sustain long-term fortifications or orchestrate disciplined defensive strategies.

Chaos cults, which often grew through a cult-like recruitment model, were adept at amassing large numbers of followers quickly.

However, they couldn't produce disciplined junior officers or leaders capable of maintaining order in such a short time. This left most spontaneously formed Chaos cults severely lacking in organizational ability.

Elite cultists like those bound by blood pacts were typically structured more like military units.

For the rank-and-file cultists, their minds were consumed by the fanatical desire to please their dark gods, leaving little room for rational thought.

Simply keeping them from rushing headlong to their deaths was already a significant achievement. Preventing them from abandoning their posts to perform rituals? That was asking too much.

You might as well accuse them of insufficient devotion to the dark gods. *insert sarcastic meme here*

Even so, the sheer number of cultists made a large-scale counterattack impractical. If their advance were stalled, they would inevitably become entangled with the endless waves of reinforcements and daemons.

Without the advantage of defensive positions or pre-laid fortifications, even a fully equipped Astra Militarum infantry regiment would struggle to prevail.

Let alone now, when their main force consisted of a ragtag PDF unit. That said, if the objective was merely to bypass the cultists, that was a different matter entirely.

When the unmasked roar of the vehicle's engine reached the cultists, most of them heard the noise but failed to grasp what was happening. After all, simply starting the engine was already considered a cautious move in this situation.

It wasn't until a crimson beam of light pierced the crowd like a sword, precisely melting the upper body of a minor cult leader whose lower half had already mutated, that the cultists began to comprehend the attack.

The Chimera, its red-painted hull trailing smoke and dust, barreled through the poor-quality plasteel anti-tank barriers on the perimeter. Only then did the word "enemy" register in their rudimentary minds.

The Chimera's mounted laser weapons fired continuously, painting a grim picture of death.

Heavy weapons, clumsily camouflaged, were disabled with pinpoint shots to their barrels.

Cultists attempting to fire cumbersome meltaguns or rocket launchers often exploded into a mist of blood and gore before they could even pull the trigger.

Even the rare successful shots, hampered by poor training and the Chimera's unnervingly swift and agile movements, only managed to leave scorch marks on their own defensive positions.

Had there been any daemons stationed on the battlefield, they might have put up some resistance. But the few profane entities that had been present were already redeployed to another location under heavy assault.

Left behind on this front were only fragile, mortal bodies, just waking from their hedonistic excesses.

The unstoppable Chimera, lubricated by blood and marrow and adorned with shredded flesh and splintered bone, charged forward.

Its crimson and scarlet hull tore through the cultists' flimsy defenses like a feral beast, plunging deep into their lines. Amid the unrelenting laser fire and the sparks of bullets scraping against its hull, it ravaged the cultists' fragile formation, carving a bloody path straight into their heart.