The sky is burning.

And above the firmament, the fortress is falling, burning, falling, turning into a rain of meteors of steel, captured by gravity, and smashed into the endless desert.

The fortresses in the air were buried in the fortresses on the ground, and with their fall and death, Randan's army followed.

The last of the Imperial naval fleets are gathering in the orbit of this world, and the defense line built around the two glorious queens of the two legions: the Indomitable Truth and the Flame Forge, is unshakable, and no alien warship can challenge them, supplemented by hundreds of tenacious war engines and impregnable Void Fortresses, defensive arrays, and the First Legion's hidden bombs mixed with the meteorite community, this is a net specially prepared to drain Ran Dan's blood.

Behemoths are fighting, fighting for their lives, countless nest-sized Void Reaper destroying each other in the endless void, any one of them is enough to easily overwhelm the entire world in another occasion, but in this bloodiest of steel graves, their lives and struggles are only the most insignificant bargaining chips on the scales of war.

And now, such chips are everywhere on this battlefield, tens of thousands of creatures control the smallest warships, shuttling and fighting in the shadows of countless void beasts, like midnight moths rushing towards the raging fire, in this nightmare-level battlefield, a steady stream of deaths, but there is a steady stream of latecomers to fill their places, every fire that looks like a smile is reaping the lives of tens of thousands of warriors, destroying the expectations of tens of thousands of mothers, and sublimating tens of thousands of immortal souls.

The battle continues, expands, and intensifies, whether it is the knight king of the First Legion or the commander of Ran Dan's fleet, they have no intention of retreating, no matter what they feel in their hearts, they must have a firm belief at this moment: kill each other, kill each other's fleet, kill each other's hope, kill each other's everything.

No matter the cost.

Never die.

This is the most direct collision of the orders of the two empires, the obsessions of the two races, the two destructive wills that can never reach any reconciliation and cooperation, every spark they rub out is the random consumption of tens of thousands of warriors and creatures, and every order they give cannot be disobeyed by even the most powerful people: kill each other!

As a result, the war continues, the blood still flows, countless warships and steel engines are still reduced to burning ruins in the slightest conflict, and the priceless war machine is squandered at will, in exchange for even a momentary advantage, to accumulate even a slight chance of victory.

No one knows how long this war has been going on, and the timer in the subspace has been faithfully fulfilling its duty, counting the time bit by bit, but no one cares.

People only know that all forces must be put into the front line of the battle, generals and sailors die at the same moment, battleships and destroyers burn in the same place, there is no nobility and lowliness on the battlefield of the void, there is no importance and humility, in the face of burning destruction, the end and death are a fair measure of every warrior and coward who sets foot on the battlefield.

All it is known is that every order that comes out of the First Legion's Indomitable Truth remains the calmest and most trustworthy, and that the Knight King of Caliban has proven himself in just a few rounds of encounters, and that his success has not been a matter of luck in the long tug-of-war that followed.

The Lion King is like a god of war born for war, even in the battlefield on the endless void that he didn't care about and excel at before, his performance is still unmatched, and the knight king from Caliban has seized every detail, every opportunity, every wisp of this war can make the empire's hold continue, and make the empire's victory closer.

Johnson's orders were clear and unquestionable, and whenever his voice sounded in the unusually clear communication channel, even the noisiest officers would subconsciously dumben their throats and listen to his orders, and even the officers of the Eighteenth Legion, who had never seen him, would subconsciously obey and carry out these orders when faced with them, and then be shocked by the huge results.

In the thirtieth round of fighting after the beginning of this war, all the people of the Reich, whether they were subordinates of the First Legion or not, whether they had met the Knight King of Caliban himself, were already in their own instincts, in what they saw and heard, and obediently carried out every command that came from this voice, no matter how cold, cruel, and incredible it sounded.

Battleships are dispatched, death is indicated, fortress after fortress frequently changes its position in the ever-changing battle situation, at this moment, it will be the most critical point in determining this battle, worthy of protection with casualties of any degree, and in the next moment, it will fall out of favor with the sudden change of battle situation, and can only use its own strength to protect itself.

Under Johnson's command, countless deaths occurred in every corner of the battlefield, countless abandonments and exploits echoed equally over the heads of every Imperial soldier, but it was precisely with this most ruthless order that the Imperial battle line was always maintained, and the Dark Angel always held some kind of initiative.

Although on the surface, under the threat of the endless and endless fleet of Ran Dan, the control area of the empire has become more and more weak, and even some of the airspace on the Tux V star has been firmly grasped by Ran Dan, but if you look closely, you will find that the sky above the most important main fortress has always been guarded by the fleet of the First Legion, and no matter how fierce the offensive is, it cannot be shaken in the slightest.

When the Lord of the Fire Dragon and his sons raised their heads, they were obscured by their huge figures, painted with the emblem of the Imperial Aquila that would reassure any warrior of the Empire, the Indomitable Truth belonging to the First Legion: Johnson was on it, he personally guarded the sky above his blood brothers, and the only way to make it unsafe was to defeat the Knight King of Caliban himself, which no one knew could be done.

Up to now, there may not even be five hundred imperial warships in the sky above and in the nearby airspace of Tuckers V, and Ran Dan's large fleet is still coming, and it can even be said that until this time, Ran Dan's real main fleet can appear in the light and shadow of this galaxy, and those imperial back fleets that also stay in the shadows are like light paper sailing ships under the huge waves compared to these vast opponents.

Despite this, parts of Tarques were still firmly held in the hands of the Dark Angel.

No one knows how these fighters of the First Legion did it.

If there is a suitable reason to answer it, it is:

They are dark angels.

They were the First Legion.

But this does not mean safety, in other places, in other places that Randan has seized with his absolute superiority in strength, those Randan ships transporting the landing troops have braved the storm vented by the Imperial defenders, and rushed to the relatively safest airdrop area, most of them will be torn to pieces by the artillery fire of the First Legion, but those lucky few who arrived still dropped the first batch of landing troops.

In an instant, it rained on Tuckers Five, a rain of steel.

Tens of thousands of drop bays were quickly thrown down, and these steel tombs, which were larger than their Imperial counterparts, turned into twisted meteorites one after another in the overwhelming artillery fire of the defenders on the ground, smashing to the ground, splashing dust and smoke, and only the lucky few were able to break through the layers of obstacles and make it to the dry surface of Tux.

As a result, the first wave of landing troops of the Randan Empire, millions of troops, caused the flames of war in the void to burn to the ground, and before their artillery and heavy weapons were fully deployed, these already impatient warriors frantically pounced on the fortress and defense line of the nearest defender in their eyes, using their guns, swords, and even teeth and claws to inflict damage, tearing apart the body and will of the human defenders.

Every soldier guarding the ground in Taks was a true veteran, a fierce warrior who had fought against Randan's army at least three times, and they didn't have time to be stunned or frightened, bullets and artillery fire were the only way they could respond to the alien's terrible roar.

They opened fire.

The ground began to burn.

——————

Everything is burning.

In the void, thousands of warships are fighting to the death, igniting twisted souls as warriors, butchers, and executioners in the cold and unforgiving universe.

On the ground, wave after wave of Randan's army was dropped, hundreds of thousands of xenomorphs were mercilessly killed in the process of landing, and millions more would fall to the ground, they would die from bullets, from artillery fire, from the anger of the defenders, from every moment of these endless attrition battles.

And beyond the void and the world, and in the soul and will, in the third battlefield that the mortals do not see, everything is also burning.

Morgan was burning, she was enjoying the most powerful state she could theoretically achieve now: the surging subspace energy was supporting her, and the alien soul that had been accumulated for a whole decade was being consumed like crazy, and these two things constituted the terrifying and fierce Spider Empress now, invisible blood dripping from her lips and teeth, and countless wizards piled up under her feet.

But despite this, she was not satisfied.

She's hungry for more.

More souls, more quality alien souls.

She can eat it all, eat it all.

Anyway, at this moment, she didn't need to stop eating for the swelling and nausea in her sea of souls that followed.

As for the problems that come with munching......

I'll leave it to her to have a headache after that.

I'm trying to write about the war as quickly as I can, and the main character here in Tuckers' case is actually Hecht in the early stages, and he will go through an adventure in which I will write the general style of the Second Legion...... I try my best

(End of chapter)