Novel Full Chapter 1586 - 898:
Chapter 1586: Chapter 898:
The orbital defense platform of Chi Yao IV melted into molten iron under the chaotic flames of subspace, and Raymond Vis gazed through the porthole as the Empire’s last line of defense collapsed under the green-skin horde. The gaps in his power armor seeped with dry bloodstains from thirty years ago, and the spiritual glow of the Holy Sword “Dawn’s Retribution” had dimmed like a candle in the wind.
“Battle Group Leader! The void shield array of Chi Yao III has overloaded!” The communicator screeched with the raspy yell of Colonel San, the background echoing with deafening explosions. “Those green-skins… they’ve transformed the wreckage of dead starships into collision devices!”
Raymond Vis’s fingers dug deeply into the fine gold armrests of his command throne. His retina reflected tactical holograms—the blue dots representing the Saints Battle Group were being swallowed by a crimson tide. The formation of the Third Grand Company was fragmented by the boarding pods of the Bone Clan, while the plasma turrets of the orbital defense array were detonating in succession from overclocking.
His gaze swept over the corner of the bridge where servitors were curled up, the data interfaces at the back of those semi-mechanical beings still plugged into encrypted notes from thirty years ago. The reinforcements promised by Holy Terra never materialized, and today they had to scrupulously calculate the fuel for their last three Thunderhawk gunships.
“Send the Penitent up.” The Battle Group Leader’s hoarse voice startled the mechanical raven on his shoulder armor. “Use the Light Spear Array to clear an evacuation path, and tell the children of the Seventh Company… prepare for glorious sacrifice.”
When purple-red subspace rifts bloomed at the northern end of the star domain, Raymond Vis thought it was another new Chaos Fleet. But when the silver-gray Crazy Shark-class destroyers tore through the veil of reality, the winged Tianma emblem on the prow of the ship made the old Battle Group Leader’s mechanical eyes suddenly leak lubricant—for the first time in thirty years, he saw a new warship that didn’t belong to scrapped metal.
“This is the Alliance Western Expedition Army’s vanguard fleet.” The full-spectrum broadcast carried reassuring electronic static. “Marshal Yan Fangxu salutes the defenders. Orbital bombardment will cover the enemy’s vanguard in twenty seconds, please adjust your shield frequencies accordingly.”
Raymond Vis watched as golden markers suddenly lit up on the tactical star chart. Seventy teleport beacons illuminated throughout the battlefield, precisely marking the weak gravitational points of the green-skin war moons. When the first new whirlwind torpedo penetrated the Bone Clan’s flagship reactor, the gamma rays from the explosion outlined the silhouette of the Emperor’s Sky Eagle in the void.
The next seventy-two hours became an unforgettable miracle for the Saints. Yan Fangxu’s staff reconstructed thirty years of war data using a holographic sand table, while the Alliance’s engineering troops, deploying their mobile foundry ship at the battlefield’s edge, spewed creations of black box technology. When Raymond Vis set foot on the surface of Chi Yao II, he crushed not only the skulls of green-skin youths but also the despair accumulated over thirty years.
“Your Dreadnought Mechs need neuro sync rate calibration.” The Alliance’s technical priest handed a data pad to the saintly sergeant covered in gunpowder smoke. “We’ve brought brainwave amplifiers compatible with the Holy Blood model, but…” He hesitated, glancing at the Titan Legion assembling in the distance. “The Battle Group Leader might be more interested in the deployment plan of those Emperor-class Titans.”
In the meditation hall of the Penitent, Raymond Vis saw a living war miracle for the first time. Yan Fangxu’s command deck hovered with three hundred holographic tactical nodes, each pulsating with the ancient battle codes of different battle groups. When the marshal’s mechanical limbs swept through the star domain projection, the scars from thirty years of hard fighting by the Saints were woven into a precise map of weak points by data streams.
“Your battle group’s sacrifice at Chi Yao IV helped us lock onto the genetic mutation frequency of the Bone Clan.” Yan Fangxu pulled up the dissection image of green-skin corpses, with the Alliance’s red markers dancing in the DNA spiral. “These spores have been tagged by genetic lock weapons, next contact…”
The Battle Group Leader suddenly pressed against the Marshal’s wrist, the servo motors of the power armor emitting an overwhelmed hum. His gaze pierced through the holographic projection, landing on the Celestial Horse Main Battle Ship sailing slowly outside the porthole. That warship, equipped with a new Light Spear Array, was precisely the “future fleet” Holy Terra had promised thirty years ago.
“Tell me the truth.” The metal tremor in his voice was captured by Raymond Vis’s voiceline sensor. “How do you handle the Sect of Mechanics temples in the occupation zones? How do you deal with planetary governors unwilling to relinquish feudal rights?” His Holy Sword suddenly glowed with a faint gleam, illuminating the pile of encrypted communication boxes in the corner of the command room—each imprinted with the fire wax seal of the High Lord Council.
Yan Fangxu’s electronic eyes flickered three times, pulling up a holographic record of Gu Hang’s speech on Dragon Abyss Star. “The Commander-in-chief said that the Dark Side Expedition is not about destruction but rebirth.” In the image, the Alliance leader was handing the planetary governor’s scepter to a tearful miner’s representative, “What we bring are the new agricultural modules from the Founding World, systems that allow the lower levels of the Nest Capital to breathe clean air…”
When the projection switched to the reconstruction scenes of the Heijian Star, the Saint Battle Group Leader suddenly knelt on one knee. His goggles reflected the purified Chaos altar, where the Alliance’s engineering team was pouring the foundation for a school; the Luman Kingdom’s palace, which once enslaved millions, now bore the bronze plaque of the Planet Council.
“Seven hours ago, my Chief Pharmacist reported the situation of your medical bay.” Yan Fangxu displayed the analysis chart of the Interstellar Warriors’ genetic seeds, the mutation index making the Saints gasp. “Black box technology can customize genetic stabilizers, but it requires opening the sacred Holy Blood map.”
Raymond Vis felt the thermal systems inside his power armor suddenly fail. His memory chip replayed every scene of sacrifice over the past thirty years—those brothers who self-immolated due to genetic degradation, those companies that went independent to protect civilians, those who slowly decayed while waiting for Terra’s reply…
“How much energy is left in Chi Yao VII’s orbital defense platform?” The Battle Group Leader suddenly turned to his tactical officer, his voice carrying a wavering tone unheard for thirty years. “Share the star domain gravity well data with Marshal Yan. It’s time for the Bone Chief to witness the true wrath of the Emperor.”
When the Alliance’s Titan Legion crossed the defense line built with skulls by the Saints, Raymond Vis heard rebirth in the war’s chimes. Yan Fangxu’s staff was regrouping their tactical traditions, and the Black Box Foundry Ship spewed not only weapons but also hope. The old Battle Group Leader stroked the newly issued genetic stabilizer, suddenly reminded of the sunrise during his oath at the Holy Blood Church three hundred years ago.
In the final cleanup battle in the Chi Yao Star System, the Saints Battle Group employed the Alliance’s boarding tactic for the first time. When Raymond Vis charged into the green-skin flagship with subspace disruption grenades gifted by Yan Fangxu, he suddenly glimpsed the future in the explosion’s flash—those worlds once abandoned by Terra, now being reborn under the dark side expedition’s banner. The orbital defense platform of Chi Yao IV melted into molten iron under the chaotic flames of subspace, and Raymond Vis gazed through the porthole as the Empire’s last line of defense collapsed under the green-skin horde. The gaps in his power armor seeped with dry bloodstains from thirty years ago, and the spiritual glow of the Holy Sword “Dawn’s Retribution” had dimmed like a candle in the wind.
“Battle Group Leader! The void shield array of Chi Yao III has overloaded!” The communicator screeched with the raspy yell of Colonel San, the background echoing with deafening explosions. “Those green-skins… they’ve transformed the wreckage of dead starships into collision devices!”