"It's falling! It's going to fall! ”

Neither the roar from above nor the screams of the heirs beside him caught Perturabo's attention.

The death of a steel beast was not destined to be a silent whimper, and the wail of the [Steadfast Light] resounded from the flight of countless people, echoing for a long time in the already ruins of the steel jungle, both attackers and defenders alike, who invariably stopped, and they raised their heads in awe to witness the destruction before them.

Like the roar of purgatory, the sound of explosions and the grinding of steel constantly tormented the ears of the genetic protogen, but Perturabo did not waver, he clung to his hammer and single-handedly guarded the core of the city's boulevard, in front of him were the heaps of destroyed tanks and armored vehicles, which were connected together, and looked like a great wall of wolf smoke in the distance.

Perturabo gasped, and just as he had a good time to adjust his breathing, the steel ruins in front of him rumbled, and he looked up to see an executioner tank crushing his dead colleague, its muzzle painted blood-red, searching for its prey with a dark vision.

The genogen laughed, and he stood the hammer in his hand on the ground, bowing his head, silent on the ferocious provocateur.

The scene was awkward for a moment, the multi-meter-tall genetic prototype stood opposite the war engine that was even larger than him, and around them was a sea of corpses and blood composed of at least one armored regiment and three infantry brigades.

Perturabo's will connected every corner of his body through countless threads of thought, and along with his thoughts, countless fist-sized cannonballs lined up from the storage area of his back armor, waiting for the right moment.

The Genogen whispered instructions, his voice flowing from the thread of thought into the troop network, receiving and processing a steady stream of messages, and as a matter of course, Perturabo bypassed his senior officers and advisers, directly commanding each of the squads that held the vital points, and even personally controlled the anti-aircraft artillery positions behind him, compiling an anti-aircraft fire network that seemed to him to be reasonable at all.

Finally, the executioners acted.

Perturabo's silence for a few seconds was seen as a mockery of disdain, and the Genoplasm could even hear the hoarse screams of exhaustion behind the tank's heavy frontal armor, the blood-red muzzle facing his face, firing a deadly Grim Reaper in a fit of rage.

The Lord of Steel raised his hammer, an indestructible steel encased in lightning and energy, and he roared and swung it, tearing a whirlwind through the air.

"Bang!"

The cannonball was hit, and the brutal strength and subtlety of the genotype forcibly changed the trajectory of the Grim Reaper, and the blow that had been directly hitting the door was forcibly twisted by the will of the demigod in midair, and it crashed into the ruins on the side, completely blasting the last wreckage of the once high-rise building into flying ashes.

Then, Perturabo raised his shoulders, and with his movements, spider-like mechanical arms and steel prosthetics stretched out in all directions, revealing the rows of ruthless destroyers below.

With a click of the progenitor's fingertips, dozens of missiles and more beams of energy roared out, drowning the bewildered challenger in front of him in the blink of an eye, the last wave of flame in this torrent of steel.

——————

"I'm waiting for my Gauss cannon to fill with hive missiles."

"What are you waiting for?"

The genotype's chuckle echoed in midair, and then, as if sensing something, he frowned, looked up, and looked high in the heart of Carena City.

——————

The Behemoth is dead.

The situation of the Steadfast Light had reached its worst: the majestic ancient ship had tilted high in the air, its bow and right wing bridge hanging low at a frightening angle, as if it would smash directly into the ground in the next second.

Magnus narrowed his eyes, he could already hear the violent cracking sound of the center of the ship, he could already see large pieces of debris falling from all corners of the hull from time to time, and he could already predict the terrible killing that would be caused by the steel beast's desperate struggle when it fell completely.

The Iron Warrior on the side carefully reminded the Primordial.

"My lord, the [Steadfast Light] is not in the best condition right now, our repair work is less than 60%, its power compartment and float are usable, but there are a large number of tearing chips in the hull, and it has not been completely repaired in time......"

"So it could disintegrate in mid-air at any moment?"

Magnus interrupted the report of the son of Perturabo, his red face now adding a little gloom, but he knew that he could not blame anyone, and in the situation just now, it was the safest way to let the ship rise to avoid danger.

"It is indeed possible to disintegrate, but it is more likely that the power core area is detached from the main part, causing the entire ship to lose its power source and fall directly."

Magnus tilted his head and was silent for two seconds, then his one-eyed eye began to shine, the light of a deep blue and a crimson clash of the wrong.

"Ahriman, help me."

He whispered to his heirs.

"Morgan, you're in charge of cleaning up the surrounding pests."

The silver-haired female officer nodded, and the genogen then felt a force that was enough for him to pay attention to this mortal.

"Phosis, Amun, Enan, Balek......"

He whispered every name until every son of Prospero in the city of Carrena answered their father's call, and it didn't take long, maybe only a second in the eyes of mortals.

"I need your strength."

With that, Magnus stretched out his arms, and the invisible giant stood behind him.

Ahriman looked up, his pupils already occupied by pale blue psionic flames, like a fire spirit that had come out of a myth.

The company commander of Chiko squeezed every trace of psionic energy in his body as much as possible, and then did not hesitate to merge all of them into the invisible giant constructed by his genetic father, he knew that now Magnus would be torn to pieces by the massive psionic energy if he made a slight mistake, but he believed in his father from the bottom of his heart.

From the time of Prospero's catastrophe, he had always been, like every thousand sons.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a blue and purple glow next to Morgan, and he could see Phosis also raise his arms, wielding all of his psionic powers, and every blood brother he could name, and he could see that every thousand sons who were close to him were rushing to join their ranks, and those who were out of his field of vision, Ahriman soon felt their surging power among the invisible giants.

"That's it."

Finally, Magnus moved.

As the progenitor's fingers spread, the thousand-thousand-tall Void Giant stepped forward, and only the most powerful psionic could truly discern every inch of it in the sea of third eyes.

Magnus's hands began to twist, and the giant, made of pure psionic and volition, stretched out its arms, ready to turn the devastating fall into an acceptable crash landing.

Ahriman gritted his teeth, he closed his eyes tightly, and the sweat of the bucket was all over his forehead in an instant.

Morgan's eyes shimmered with purple as her consciousness drifted through thousands of souls, picking out the strange-looking individuals and crushing their lives almost indiscriminately.

Perturabo looked at the rapidly falling ship, no one knew what was going on behind his steel countenance, and after half a ring, the Iron Lord turned and gave all his trust to his brother.

"Hold your post, Iron Warrior, the battle is not over yet."

——————

In the gaze of thousands of people, in the prayers of mothers, in the cries of children, the giant and the giant finally collided, and it was a war between the will of the genetic prototype against the power of nature.

Mortals could not witness it, and the panicked refugees only saw the steel beast that should have fallen to a halt in midair, and a violent sound of breaking the air burst out from its bottom belly in all directions, breaking the eardrums of countless people, but it could not stop the thunderous cheers.

But by the time the mortal cheers reached the tower where the genetic prototype was located, there was only the low, swift spell and the crackling sound of everyone's sweat falling to the ground.

Despite the help of hundreds of thousands of sons, Magnus was still under great pressure, and the green tendons as thick as mortal fingers were now all over the forehead of the genetic prototype, and under Morgan's gaze, Magnus's eyes were exuding desperate madness.

No one can judge Magnus, because no one can truly understand the pressure he is under now, even if all the thousand sons combined are not as strong as one thousandth of the genetic prototype.

The size of the [Steadfast Light] was comparable to that of the standard battleships of the Imperial Navy, not to mention that almost every piece of its material contained anti-psionic elements, Magnus only felt as if he was lifting a battleship himself, his brain had exploded entirely, countless memories, thoughts and psionic fragments twisted in his boiling mind.

"No ......"

The genogen moaned uncontrollably, trembling uncontrollably from his fingertips to his ankles, and Magnus could only feel the power of the subspace rejoicing in this crazy confrontation, one after the other, rushing to him and his children, aiding in the miracle and involuntarily destroying it.

“…… Damn ......"

Countless forces were rampaging through his brain, he could faintly hear everyone cheering, but his mind could no longer comprehend them, Magnus could feel saliva coming from his teeth, his feet digging deep into the dirt from the invisible confrontation, his muscles, his brain, his tendons, his teeth crackling, all moaning in torment.

He saw that it was raining in front of him, and then he realized that it was his own sweat.

He felt himself wailing, and then he realized it wasn't his own voice – it was his children.

“…… No! ”

Magnus's soul roared, but the bloody prophecy had blossomed out of its own accord.

He saw what was coming, and he saw that in his terrible encounter with gravity, he would win the most crushing victory.

With the successful landing of the Iron Behemoth, countless concentrated psionic energy will instantly repulse, and these unstoppable forces will in turn tear apart every Qianzi.

He will be stained with blood, covered in blood...... the blood of his offspring.

Scarlet King...... People would call him that.

"No!"

Magnus wailed, but he couldn't stop it, for the Light of Steadfastness was getting closer to the surface than ever, and he could even hear the shouts of the Iron Warriors beside him witnessing the miracle, and he could even realize that the psionic giant was raising its fist at each of his unsuspecting heirs.

In this moment of despair, he heard a voice.

——————

[Need help, Lord Magnus?] 】

——————

Ahriman sat down on the ground, gasping for breath.

He swore he hadn't been this crazy in a long time.

It was only at this time that the pain began to spread to his whole body, which was the inevitable result of the extreme pressure on himself, and Ahriman raised his hand with difficulty, but there was no more right strength to treat himself.

He felt like a mortal at the moment, a mortal who was about to die of old age, and the company commander of Chiko looked up and looked around, only to find that everyone in his vision was like this now, including Morgan.

Even she looked the most miserable.

Then, Ahriman felt the most powerful and familiar psionic energy envelop him, and everyone present, it was the healing power of Magnus, the father of his genes, and after just a dozen seconds, Ahriman felt that he could devote himself to a battle or the hardest mission.

Walking between his children and men, he watched with satisfaction as they quickly regained their vitality, and Ahriman looked up at the heart of Carena City: the Steadfast Light had landed safely, and thousands of people had left it like a colony.

"You've done a miracle, father!"

"It's us, and we've created it together."

Magnus replied with a smile, and then he walked over to the only one who hadn't recovered.

The genogen bent down and carefully helped Morgan up.

"I need to thank you in particular, Morgan, for all you have done for me and my children."

[cough...... Duty, Your Excellency. 】

The silver-haired female officer replied with a reluctant look, coughing incessantly, spitting out a little blood from time to time.

"No, it's more important than that, you can't imagine how timely your help just now was."

Morgan looked like she wanted to answer Magnus's compliment, but she quickly bent down and coughed desperately, and even though she had covered her mouth, Ahriman could see the unstoppable blood flowing from her fingers, dripping onto her snow-white trench coat like a broken red plum blossom.

Magnus's face became serious.

"Well, it looks like it's worse than I thought, but don't worry, I'll take care of your treatment until the last step, Ms. Morgan."

[I feel that this is a rift in the soul, Your Excellency, and it can be difficult. 】

"Of course."

Magnus laughed, a smile of absolute confidence that would only come after a miracle.

"But subspace is a treasure trove of omnipotence."

"And I'm the one who has the key."

"When this is over, I will take you and the most seriously injured of my children into the subspace once again to find a cure for your injuries."

"Trust me, leave everything to me, I'm Magnus, and I don't let things get worse."