The thing took three rockets, it was surprisingly durable, but Tarphus managed to take it down. After that, the trenches opened up with rocket fire towards these things, though only a small number of the total guardsmen could wield the launchers.

Most still had their 'trusty' autogun Tarphus chuckled at the thought of a gun that jammed frequently was called trusty. Though unsurprisingly, the heavy weapon emplacements were more numerous than the previous trench due to the heavy casualties. Which forced the regular troops to take those heavy weapons. Tarphus felt that this was great for the troops' morale and was glad that this wave finished without any further incident.

His squad was patched up or was dragged to the back; two were replaced as they needed new limbs. This made Tarphus conflicted because, on the one hand, they would live. But, on the other, they would likely never be the same.

He had seen how the battle scared veterans at home. They had that look, that vacant stare omnipresent on their face; he would not want that on his foes… except the orcs; he would not care what happens to orcs as long as they suffered.

Tarphus then had his squad rest, looking over them all; one was spastic looking everywhere, but he had a knack for explosives. The other was quiet, calm, and cold. Tarphus felt something was off about him but would not turn him down. The second one went to his little corner and slept.

Tarphus also wanted to sleep, but he saw the mines, and the front was clear; others were not doing it.

So, he looked at the twitching one and spoke. "You, me, and a few others are going to lay down some mines in the field; come on, we do not have all day for this." So Tarphus and his squad went to lay down the mines; they got through all of them and rushed back to the bunker so that they could rest, even if only for a few seconds.

Tarphus almost expected the old commissar as he stepped into the bunker. However, the reckless one was being held back by the new quiet squad member until Tarphus arrived. "Squad Captain, your squad is a mess."

A nasal voice sniveled its way to his ears, a young man wearing the same outfit as the commissar stepped away from the two of them with contempt in his eyes. "You left your post squad captain; I must know why as you had orders to hold here." Tarphus looks at his squad, and they nod at him; when they see his calm smile, he turns toward the commissar calmly while his team goes to the cots for some rest.

"Sir, what were my orders to go out and set up the mines? I have completed that task. My squad was here to receive any orders and help the wounded. Or was I wrong in assuming that command did not want to place the mines?"

The commissar before him narrowed his eyes in an accusatory tone. "Why did you go and do that without receiving orders? Do you have a death wish?" Tarphus replaced his forced smile with a cold, distant look. "My goal was to allow the troops to have some rest, even a small bit; they are weary and weak."

The commissar scoffed at this and rounded on Tarphus with a death glare. "It is not your position to make those calls, squad captain, do it again, and I will kill you. Even if it would have been what command would order, it is not your place to act." With that, the commissar swiftly turned and left, glaring at the guardsmen nearby.

Tarphus was miffed at that but did not reply, as the young commissar left before he could get a word in, and if he did, it would look childish, though that thought was of little comfort to him. Tarphus checked and double-checked the ammunition left to him, though there was something here that required someone to carry a tank on their back, it was revealed as a 'flammer.'

Tarphus did not want to know why his squad was given such a thing, but something did not settle with him. Why would they need this? What purpose would this thing serve? Such thoughts ran rampant in his mind. However, he said nothing. Instead, he messed around with his squad.

He remembered the two that were removed. Those soldiers so desperately wanted to stay and help the others. It hurt him to remove them from the fight, the look of betrayal that they sent him cut deep into his psyche. However, they could not lift their weapons, so they were left to the hospitars, lucky bastards treated by beautiful women…

Well, even Tarphus could see the appeal. Though such thoughts were swiftly taken from him when the sirens roared to life around him.

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

Tarphus felt rage and fear when he heard that warcry again; he had prepared, fortified his mind, had his fun, but that shout will always be in his mind. “WAAAAAH!” It was deafening and maddening. It was uttered with such joy like someone had found a precious toy or loved one; it sickened him that these creatures could thrive off such horrible situations.

Tarphus shook himself out of that train of thought; it was useless now; he took up the rocket launcher. His squad took their positions, two getting on the heavy stubber, the rest gathering what weapons they needed. Thankfully, they slept near them.

The group started firing into the mass of enemies. Like a machine destroying the foes nearby, they drew attention from the orc hordes. A massive ball was flown in by rickety ships; this ball was thrown at the bunker, but it did nothing. Tarphus ignored it in favor of blasting the war truck, fairing orc bands into battle. Then two minor pains burst from Tarphus's knees. He looked down and saw… Goblins?

These small green creatures held little makeshift shanks, two of which were stabbed in his legs; he punted one, but another was thrown onto him. It grabbed his neck and started to choke him. Flashes of that same orc with the horrid bored expression filled his head, "N-n-no-not thi-s ti-me."

His combat knife flashed and removed the arms of this vile creature as rage burned through his veins. Causing his muscles to clench, his teeth to chatter, and his lungs burn as his vision became red. The gore splattered everywhere casting his bloodied world with a viscus green tint, "beautiful." Tarphus muttered. It filled him with satisfaction when the green creature looked dumbfounded at its lost limb.

Tarphus then quickly stabbed it through the eye, stopping the little bastard dead in its tracks. The creature fell back, but there was a swarm behind that nuance. The creatures crawled forwards clogging up the approach with the sheer mass of bodies, all trying to bite, claw, stab, and shank at Tarphus.

Tarphus saw how the flammer was not to be used as it exploded in the grasp of the angry one. Apparently, she hit the tank, and it released the fuel. How he did not know, but the explosion was impressive, and he learned what it felt like to burn alive, something he will try to avoid in the future.

He immediately grabbed the flammer giving the rocket to the silent one. He got a cold, predatory smile. The wave started the same with that horrid cry; while Tarphus waited, the missile started firing. It did not hit every time as the red-painted trucks were surprisingly fast. Some had yellow-painted guns, though only on their own rockets; these caused problems as the explosions were more extensive than the non-painted ones.

Tarphus was confused over that but killed them first, then the ball came, offloading its payload; however, they were burnt to a crisp this time though he had to resort to his knife as the flammer ran out of fuel. Then three more of these balls crashed into the area near him. Tarphus had burned through his fuel before and was in the middle of switching tanks, but he became overwhelmed shortly after.

You Died.

He then used the backup claymores to lay a trap for those green bastards. The troops nodded at him, though the twitchy one helped him. The next time, he reloaded the fuel, which helped as the bunker was flooded by things from the opposite direction. In the middle of this chaos, a yellow rocket was fired and hit the bunker. The explosion killed three of his squad. Again, Tarphus was overwhelmed by regular orcs, this time not the runts that he was killing.

You Died.

This time he got his crew away from the bunker after he dealt with the wave of runts; he was assisted, of course, by his squad. Again, they were efficient in getting out of the bunker. In fact, it only took a few times to get the ammo box and reliable kit.

They held out near the bunker, stemming the tide of orcs from advancing. However, a few wipes were caused due to an orc with a flammer charging at the barricade that Tarphus's squad set up in haste and shoddily built. The orcs crashed upon the terrible barrier with a sort of berserker fervor that scared Tarphus on an instinctual level.

However, he squashed that fear before it could consume him, a cold swept over his mind, and he started to take shot after shot, killing or maiming his targets. Eye shots were preferred as the orcs did not have much protection there. That was until a giant orc with metal covering much of its body came charging in from behind the squad. It was over in mere seconds. The creature crashed through the flimsy barrier and was killed.

No, kill implies they put up a fight, which only the zealous one did, but they were butchered. When the large orc turned to Tarphus, the only thing Tarphus could do was bring out his grenade. It went off in the bastard's face as Tarphus died, but it did destroy the creature's face, but it kept moving afterward.

You Died

Over and over again, Tarphus tried different strategies. One was to set up claymores in its path, which is shrugged off, then was to run, they were shot by their own allies, he tried the flammer. Finally, which caused it to go into a rage, the rocket, if it hit, would deal a tremendous amount of damage.

He then got an idea, to add all the plans together, Twitch would plant the explosives. At the same time, the rest of the squad covered him, tarphus prepped the rocket launcher, and the flammer would go to the avenger. The others would lay fire into the pressing orcs to allow the plan to work. It did not go well the first time, nor the second time; hell, the seventh time almost killed the giant, but it was the eighth time that allowed the components to come together. At last, that behemoth was slain.

The orcs around the slain giant looked on with both fear and awe, "Dayz killed da nob!" That caused the greenskins to fight and flee; it was like Tarphus severed their comradery. He made a note of that for later. But it was the strangest thing as the orcs fought each other just as much as his squad. However, Tarphus was too tired to care. Then there was a buzz from the small box on his hip. "-squads, I repeat, the command has issued a withdrawal to the final trench. The artillery will be firing on your position. Get out of there."