Several fuel drums, filled with black 'dye' mixed using promethium.
Deserters in slightly different uniforms were lining up in front of the fuel drums to change into black uniforms.
And with every deserter who completed the 'change of attire,' as they integrated into Sith's ranks, their originally anxious expressions were replaced by joy.
Because not only could they follow the Astartes, but also because being re-enlisted meant their threefold fate—either starving to death, being hunted down and killed by greenskins, or being executed by officers—finally held 'hope.'
Sith stood at the edge of a trench, watching the steadily replenishing troops before him. Although these deserters' morale had instantly multiplied a hundredfold upon joining his ranks, their morale, which was practically nonexistent to begin with, even after such an increase, was still far from comparable to his veteran soldiers.
Their only advantage at this moment was their relatively ample numbers.
Bruno, holding the freshly compiled statistics, hurried along the trench toward Sith.
Snap!
He stood at attention and saluted:
"According to the statistics, we've replenished nearly seventy thousand troops. Most are deserters, but some stranded Astra Militarum have also joined us."
Handing the report to Sith, Sith glanced at it. Combined with the thirty thousand veterans who had survived until now, his Legion's numbers had returned to one hundred thousand.
Although the numbers had recovered, Sith looked at the equipment listed at the end and sighed helplessly.
Because the newly joined soldiers had almost nothing but a rifle each.
"Has Command still not responded to our resupply request?"
They were not far from the perimeter of the safe zone where Command was located, and resupply by air transport was possible.
Bruno nodded:
"They responded and sent three transport planes."
Sith's eyes lit up, but Bruno shook his head again:
"However, the transport planes were shot down by the besieging greenskins."
Sith gave Bruno a speechless look for not finishing his sentence earlier and dismissed any hope for Command.
Raising his hand to look at his watch with its shattered face, seeing the hour hand about to point to the scheduled time, Sith lowered his arm.
Looking up one last time at the deserters filled with anticipation, Sith sighed softly:
"Give the order. Move out."
...
An armored personnel carrier lay overturned by the roadside.
The flames had long since died out, with only wisps of black smoke slowly rising from the charred wreckage.
A soldier emerged from the vehicle, holding up a section of ammunition belt, a wide smile on his face.
Soldiers outside immediately took it, several of them carrying the belt as they hurried onto the adjacent road.
Dense columns of black-uniformed infantry were on the move, their footsteps continuous, though only far behind one row of the formation was there a lone supply vehicle.
Soldiers in the formation watched enviously as these few managed to find an entire ammunition belt.
It wasn't until veteran officers shouted reprimands that the soldiers turned their attention back.
These soldiers then handed the ammunition belt to a supply vehicle, after which each received a complete block of compressed starch.
Quickly dividing the starch evenly among themselves, they promptly put it into their mouths.
The bland, compressed starch brought immense satisfaction to their faces.
But their closed-eyed enjoyment didn't last long; the roar of engines in the distance pulled them back to reality.
Turning to look into the distance, over a dozen greenskin speed freaks were kicking up clouds of dust across the wasteland.
The soldiers' faces turned grim again. After a glance at the greenskins, they looked back at the completely vanished Imperial-controlled zone behind them, their eyes filled with a fear that had finally sunk in.
Although the deserters, seeing the increasingly deep occupied territory and the denser greenskins around them, were already on the verge of morale collapse,
boosted a hundredfold by Sith, these former deserters not only didn't break and flee but managed to maintain their marching formation even with the enemy practically in their faces.
This scene even made Davi Luo, standing in the middle of the column and towering half a body length above the Mortals, somewhat puzzled and surprised.
Looking around at the soldiers again, seeing the fear in their eyes yet no sign of fleeing, Davi Luo could only turn his gaze to Sith at the front of the column.
Apart from Sith's personal charisma and the Legion's rallying power, Davi Luo couldn't fathom what had made these deserters regain their courage.
And compared to these Mortals, what concerned Davi Luo more was the greenskins in the distance who had been following for a long time but hadn't launched an attack.
Greenskins, who lived for a fight, were actually choosing to observe such a large-scale human force!
Having spent over two hundred years in the Deathwatch, Davi Luo had almost never seen such a reaction from greenskins.
Because from the greenskins' perspective, this act of watching without fighting was practically equivalent to backing down.
And the thought that the greenskins in this area would show deference to a Mortal force even shocked Davi Luo to the point where he wondered if he should set aside his current mission to investigate the specific reasons.
Until a communication came through his helmet, and another Deathwatch member transmitted a large amount of data.
"This is information I retrieved from the local Command. I never expected this Mortal force to actually..."
The words of praise on the tip of his tongue were held back. After all, not long ago, he had been criticizing Mortals for their weakness on the barge and looking down on the local Command for assigning them Sith.
Changing his tune to praise now was still somewhat difficult to voice.
Meanwhile, Davi Luo looked at the records compiled by the local Departmento Munitorum, his confusion gradually replaced by astonishment.
Perhaps fearing that Davi Luo would think Command was uncooperative and had casually assigned a unit to Perfunctory them,
the information Command sent about Sith's combat record was unusually detailed.
In fact, it even included a great deal of embellished praise.
Based on this information, Sith had almost become the most outstanding Mortal Legion on Alert Star.
Davi Luo ignored the praise entirely, focusing only on the factual combat achievements.
"Breaking through defensive lines under friendly artillery fire, cutting through Hive City rebels to reach the tower top, crossing the greenskin desert alone with his unit..."
Davi Luo silently recounted the achievements in his mind, and finally, his Confuse about the greenskins was answered.
It seemed the greenskins in this area were genuinely somewhat afraid of Sith, or rather, the greenskins actually acknowledged...
that Sith was sufficiently Waaagh!
Faced with this fact, Davi Luo couldn't help but shift his gaze back to Sith at the front of the column.
His mind also recalled the scene when Sith first met them.
The mountain of greenskin corpses beneath their feet was indeed shocking, but what shocked Davi Luo even more was that Sith, in almost every battle along his path, had made his enemies pile up into mountains of corpses at his feet!
Thinking about how the 101st Regiment had fought its way through with massive casualties all along, Davi Luo finally clearly understood what it meant for Sith and his 101st Regiment to have risen from cannon fodder to where they were now.
Although Command's praise might have been partly to clear themselves of suspicion, looking at these combat records, Davi Luo had to nod silently.
Because not just on Alert Star, but at least in Davi Luo's career, he had never seen such solid currency as Sith and the 101st Regiment.
The Three people's comms fell silent. After an unknown length of time, the golden nail Deathwatch member, who had also gradually grasped the implications through the combat records, finally let out a soft sigh over the comms:
"These Mortals are worthy of courage."