They were able to scrounge up ammo and guns from the dead, and the wounded dragged back. The line was not reinforced; they heard that the line behind them was getting special attention. Tarphus did not care, though it might seem otherwise he wanted his soldiers to live.

However, the rest of the group stayed; he wanted to call them out, shaking with fear. But he held firm for them; he had already died many times, that they did not know about, he would make sure that they would survive. He felt that it would be meaningless to make it to the finish line without these troopers, he would lay down his life for them, and he knew that they would do the same, those blasted fools.

Tarphus found that around eighty percent of the forces remained in these bloody trenches. Apparently, that was remarkable. So remarkable for green troops that two more commissars are now patrolling behind the men; they were younger than the one that Tarphus met younger by far. Those younger ones seem to have something to prove as they shout at the troops and make demands of them. They are irritable but do not dare to lift anything themselves. He did not know why but he felt naturally disgusted by them.

The other, older one was helping him gather and load any last ammo that they could scrounge to the different squads. Though the commissar would glare at him less and less, instead, he looked at Tarphus with curiosity.

Tarphus ignored that, as he had more problems to handle, the orcs could come over that bloody hill any second now, and he did not want to repeat this again. But then, the sky erupted with sirens, and the whistles pierced the sky; explosions shattered the silence.

He could almost ignore the artillery that used to make him flinch; now. He is comforted by the shrieking whistle as he now knows the artillery battery is going past him. Tarphus dropped the ammo at his squad to ensure that his soldiers would keep firing and gave them some sticks that he knew were explosive.

Tarphus groaned as it was something that he had to get used to; he hoped that the new one would help. She was hungry for blood; apparently, it was her sweetheart that died. However, she was so passionate that he could not say no and allowed her to stay and help. There was also the fact that no one else would be foolish enough to stay behind for the rearguard position. Although Tarphus was unsure of her being stable enough to remain in the trench, instead of running out to avenge her lover, Tarphus made sure to stay near her.

The others laughed and joked until the first of those green-skinned bastards ran over the hill. Then, screaming the accursed warcry, "WAAAAAAH!"

The user has unlocked a hidden bonus, the user is now at a checkpoint, you will respawn at the start of the second wave.

Tarphus was confused and did not duck as a stray bolt hit him in the forehead; he died swiftly after and saw those words.

You Died

Tarphus looked around, and sure enough, he was next to the new squad member. He wanted to ask whatever was in charge of his respawns why it set a checkpoint. Unfortunately, during this process of thought, he forgot to duck. He died again due to this.

He did not mind the death; it was the things he did, the talking bits as now Tarphus will never be able to return and help that soldier or get the ones he saved to flee. But then again, he could only find one replacement, which caused him to frown; he just had to adjust and keep them alive, no matter the cost.

Tarphus then started shooting the orcs, he called out the closer orcs, and his troops focused fire on them, having his soldiers duck when they were under heavy fire. The newbie did not like the "cowardice," but the thought that she could only kill orcs if she was alive calmed her down. The ability to use grenades was new to him; it took a few deaths to learn how to prime the grenade, even more, to learn how to properly throw them. Further casualties were needed to find prime examples of where and who the grenades needed to be thrown.

This did not keep him from dying like frogs in a blender, but it was a new skill that he felt he needed to hone. His voice started to bark out orders to his squad, then moved every time the orcs destroyed their position.

Tarphus felt hatred, a cold and simmering hatred for those brutish green bastards; they were ugly and felt nothing but joy at the prospect of war. Those bastards, after around half an hour, started using grenades themselves; he tried shooting their grenadiers first as their explosive power could wipe out his team.

Then he saw it, an orc coming from his left, in the trench, he turned his auto gun to kill the bastard. It had a knife sticking out of its abdomen, clearly on the edge of its life due to how it crawled towards them, blood gushing from said wounds. This was due to the stumps where legs should be. The disgusting creature, Tarphus felt rage for this creature, not pity; he drew his knife and threw it into the bastard's eye, having honed this skill since he was young…

Tarphus paused at that; when did he look at his past like his father would, saying he was young then as if he is not young now. This train of thought earned him a bolt to the side of his head.

You Died

Tarphus shook off such thoughts, as they were unnecessary, his troops needed him, and these orcs were required to die. Nothing else mattered. The newbie would try to charge, but it was unsuccessful, meaning that Tarphus would hold her back. He then had his troops make their way down the trench to the left to help save there because he knew that they would need more guns to overpower the orcs. He wondered what he would find here but was impressed when he saw the older commissar fighting with a few squads against a horde of orcs.

The squad immediately got into cover and started laying into the breach. Tarphus did not feel that he or his troops were good enough at shooting to kill only the orcs in that melee. However, the sounds of Auto guns distracted the orcs; drawing some from the melee to Tarphus's squad, Tarphus drew his combat knife and auto pistol.

His auto gun had jammed, and he did not have time to unjam it; hopefully, it was not broken like last time. The orcs closed in on his squad, and it was a massacre; they tore through them like a knife through butter. But it was not even close, his troops were inexperienced, and the orcs were stronger by far. Tarphus took only a few with him. He would get better.

Again and again, he tried to save the commissar and his troops. He started saving grenades to use in this melee; he started carrying the ammo box so that his forces would not run out of ammo.

He trained his knife work on these orcs to learn how to hold them at bay, all the while he died repeatedly. He did not realize that while the muscles stayed the same, his reflexes seemed to become sharper throughout these deaths. He had his men lay covering fire into the breach, as that place would have orcs funnel into the trenches, a perfect death trap for those brutish bastards.

He threw grenades at the edge of the melee, shredding the bloodthirsty orcs, softening them for the commissar. It was risky, but it worked; the orcs were confused, which operated to the commissar's advantage. "Charge!" The guttural, raspy scream emanated from the commissar's throat forced the soldiers to be emboldened, pushing the orcs back with a cry of rage and defiance.

The commissar's eyes locked onto Tarphus's; the commissar then walked calmly, yet briskly, to the squad captain. "Congratulations, squad captain, your aid was appreciated but now go back to your line; the orcs might have sniffed out a weak point."

His eyes narrowed as he said. "Why have you come here when you were told to hold your line?" Tarphus began sweating. He did not know how to reply until he just sighed. "Sir, my squad had received contact from the left; I took the initiative to go and secure up our defensive line. If our flank was exposed, it would destroy the entire line, sir."

The commissar looked at Tarphus, seemingly to study him almost like he was dissecting him. The commissar palmed his chain blade, then, after a few tense moments, said. "That is acceptable for now, squad captain. Now return to your post, and I will see to this position myself." The commissar turned around, dismissing Tarphus, who got his troops moving when he returned. He found the orcs were charging another position because it was putting up a fight.

Tarphus had his soldiers open fire. This was to distract the orcs and show them that another area had some fight in it, to which they immediately started to change his position. Then Tarphus heard something; he looked up and saw orcs with a large burning pack coming down to his right though one seemed to have angled towards his group.

Tarphus tried to shoot it down; he noticed that some of these jump orcs blew up while in the air, but the ones that did not outnumber the ones that did. So, he somehow managed to shoot its pack, thus causing it to explode. The orcs then started chopping into the guardsman nearby. Tarphus then told half of his troops to hold and fire out of the trench line.

He took the other half to support the melee; they could kill many orcs stealthily as they were too into the fight that they did not notice the flanking five humans. The orcs, which were only a handful, were killed, though they did cause him to die multiple times as they would explode or chop him into pieces.

Tarphus was forced to account for the armored orcs, bigger and stronger than the other "normal" orcs. Those bastards took much more to take down instead of the others. They used more explosive weapons than their fellow scum. Tarphus was slaughtered repeatedly at this point, trying to keep morale high while also keeping his squad from getting killed.

Then it was over, his squad was alive, and the orcs stopped coming; Tarphus looked around at his team and gave them a smile. "Looks like we are getting some rest. Check your weapons; make sure you have everything." Tarphus looked at the box; it was empty, then he heard boots trudging towards him. He turned and saw the old commissar walking towards him.