Starting from the Planetary Governor

Chapter 164: Chapter 137, Beast Slaughter Group (6.4k Subscriptions Please!)_3



Based on past experience, to withstand the onslaught of the Green Skin Orcs, especially at such a close range, one would need at least ten times the number of enemies to gain victory; holding out with five times the number is the bare minimum to maintain a defense.

Despite his Beast Slaughter Group mastering some special techniques through long-term combat with the orcs, and even with weapons specifically modified to fight them, they could at best manage to fight three against one.

Now, the number of combatants on each side had not even reached a two-to-one ratio, a situation which, according to experience, meant the defense would not hold.

But beyond the Fifth District, there was no other line of defense.

His deputy had already asked more than once what to do.

And his answer had always been the same:

"We must fight to the death!"

His own will to fight was unwavering, and he understood that if they let the Green Skin Orcs break through Rubbish Town, they would no longer have a chance for revenge. The orcs would gain greater living space, and humanity would face utter defeat in this region.

He was prepared to die.

But the Beast Slaughter Group was faltering.

Although the performance of the Beast Slaughter Group was better than that of any other adventuring band, they were still human. Hatred and anger could sustain their ferociousness in battle, but fear remained, and not everyone could face a certain death with equanimity.

He could feel that many of his brothers were already wavering.

At first, he was anxious, but he soon settled into a calm state.

Go ahead, if a few more can live, that's good. In such a desperate situation, I simply wish to die in battle against these orcs; I can't necessarily ask the same of others.

After painstakingly loading his ammunition, he strode forward. Another Green Skin Orc charged towards him howling, and three of his brothers opened fire. Despite being shot several times, the orc stood firm, lifted a crudely made firearm, and quickly killed two men.

The third man charged forward with a long-handled greatsword and slashed at the orc's head.

The flesh burst open and blood flowed, but the skull was not cleaved, the blade stuck in it.

The orc, however, pulled out a hand axe and split the brave Beast Slaughter Group warrior's head with a backhand swing.

The orc pulled the greatsword out from its head, blood smeared all over its face, and howled to the sky as if mad.

"Bang!"

Seizing the opportunity, he approached within five or six meters of the orc. The exaggeratedly designed triple-barreled shotgun was pointed at the orc's head and he fired.

The orc's face distorted by the blast, it fell backward to the ground.

Rubbing his shoulder, aching from the recoil, he saw two more orcs approaching.

At that moment, there were no brothers by his side, and he clearly didn't have time to reload the triple-barreled shotgun.

He dropped the firearm and took out the Beast Slaughter Group's signature long-handled greatsword.

This must be the last fight before death, he thought. He wondered if he could take down an orc before he died.

He couldn't aim for the head, limbs, or torso, which would not be instantly fatal. The only target was the neck. He needed to exert full strength and get the angle right as the blade penetrated the flesh; only then might he have a chance of severing the spine.

He had only one chance with his blade. If he missed, the orc's strength, far superior to a human's, would tear him to shreds in no time.

He took deep breaths, waiting for the final moment to come.

The two orcs, one in front and one behind, drew ever closer.

They seemed to be competing to get to him first, fearing that slow movement would rob them of the chance to kill.

Just then, a loud noise came from behind, followed by a rocket trailing flames.

The rocket exploded right in front of him, hitting the two monsters, one behind the other, and flipping them over. The one behind was already dead, while the other landed not far from Li Kexi.

Ignoring the singed hair from the trailing flames, Li Kexi quickly walked up and chopped off the monster's head with three swings of the sword.

Only then did he have a moment to turn his head and see a squad of unfamiliar soldiers approaching from behind.

It was a small combat team of three, two armed with rifles, one with a rocket launcher.

The recent rocket came from them. And now, the man with the rocket launcher was pulling new rockets from the large tactical pack on his back to reload; the other two kept firing at another approaching orc in the distance.

The firearms in their hands were unfamiliar to Li Kexi. He had never seen such rifles, black and clearly well-crafted, different from the iron tube rifles many adventurers carried.

Looking in the direction of the gunfire, the orc being targeted was clearly hit repeatedly.

The two groups were about a hundred meters apart.

A hundred meters, what does that mean? From a distance, the orc seemed hardly bigger than a small black dot.

At this range, accurate shooting not only indicated the precision of the unfamiliar soldiers but also meant that their rifles were extremely reliable in terms of accuracy.

Using the rifles commonly employed by adventurers, even if aimed precisely, the bullet trajectory at a hundred meters was unpredictable.

In fact, the firearms used by the Green Skin Orcs were similar, perhaps even less reliable. The orc firearms were surprisingly powerful; within the effective range, a single shot could blast apart an entire upper body. But their effective range was only within fifty meters, beyond which the bullets would stray significantly, even worse than the adventurers' iron tube rifles.


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