"The surface has been cleared."

"There are a total of 56 enemy troops in Randan, including one low-level overlord, three wizards, and 52 ordinary warriors, all of whom have been killed."

"Our casualties...... Zero. ”

The cold wind carried the pungent smell of blood, both the dry and strange reds, and the dripping, fresh flows.

The war continues, in every corner of the world, from the underground, to the sky, from the horizon where gunfire is constantly ringing, to the rumbling footsteps that have come out.

The carnage that took place on the surface was nothing more than a matter of moments, from the Shadow Champion cutting off the head of the first heavy fireman, to Hecht whispering in the dust about the not-so-violent annihilation, from beginning to end, just a few dozen breaths away.

And when this patchwork makeshift squad emerged from the rapid annihilation battle and seized all the time to start resting and preparing, they also heard the footsteps of another war gradually approaching.

Obviously, under the ground is the real central area of Randan, where the giant engine that Hector and his party want to destroy, and where Randan's real elite power is.

The entrance was not hard to find, and following the footprints of dried blood, Morgan's children easily found the deep caverns that constantly emitted the foul smell of soil and blood, and faintly could hear heavy breathing and mixed steps.

The guards in charge of the area had long since been killed in the previous massacre, and the six Astarte warriors stood at the entrance of the cave, quietly listening to the approaching footsteps in the depths of the cave, constantly adjusting the electro-optical imaging system and automatic sensing system carried by their helmets to maintain a good eyesight suitable for combat in low-light conditions.

And to be able to play in the next dazzling light, with ease.

When the last sound of adjusting the system also completely dissipated, and the strength of the Ran Dan army under the ground was finally late, Hector, Chellon, and Ezio glanced at each other, and threw out the strong light bullet in their hands without hesitation.

The most dazzling light killed the deepest darkness in a single breath, as if forcibly pulling the eyelids open, making the pupils look desperately into the midday sun, thousands of sharp snow-white arrows pierced each menacing scarlet pupil, screaming, wailing, and the rudeest and most vicious curses exploded in an instant.

Before the calmest Randan soldiers could regain their form, out of the corner of their eyes, they saw six tall iron towers covered in the blood of their kind, like six unstoppable storm gods, crashing into their battle line in a roar, silence, and battle cry.

The xenomorph armies had no idea that their comrades on the ground would be annihilated in such a brief period, so when faced with the constantly flashing and screaming power swords, blasters, plasma, and psionic lightning, they were no more powerful than a horde of panicked civilians.

The old massacre is over.

A new massacre began.

And before this massacre, Hector has one of the most important tasks, a goal that he must always put first, he must find the giant engine, he must destroy all the aliens who dare to stand in his way.

He had to ......

——————

Find it.

Morgan's will gave this order.

In an instant, countless souls converged into a vain hunting group, passing through the already weak curtain of the real universe and the strange subspace, and pierced into the core fleet of the Randan Empire.

She had to find it.

Find that thing.

Drag it to this galaxy, drag it to the real universe.

In this way, the Empire can destroy it in the true sense of the word, destroy the last delusion of the Ran Dan Xenomorph about winning this war.

In this way, they can truly win the war, and Morgan can truly erase her last scruples and begin her long-lost, real harvest and devouring.

She's already giving too much.

Now, she needs to reciprocate.

The Spider Empress could clearly feel what kind of fire was burning in her heart, not because of anger or excitement, but because she was constantly depleting her soul reserves because of the war in front of her, these alien souls were thrown into the war that happened in Taks, and she could even clearly calculate that the soul power she consumed in this war was enough to support her to crush several worlds to ashes.

Through her will and means, they have become the invisible scythes that constantly harvest a large number of Randan wizards, the superior platform that allows each warship to report freely and receive orders, and the Knights of Caliban, the king of knights, who can give full play to all his talents, and create a great miracle to block the most terrible opponents with the rarest forces.

She consumes, she commands, she promotes, she uses countless alien souls and lives to construct the greatest feats and splendor that belong only to her.

In addition to those truly precious treasures that need to be protected, all the alien souls that Morgan has accumulated in the more than ten years of the Randan War are being burned at an alarming rate, transforming into the most quintessential pure energy for Morgan to drive.

Even the speed of death born on the fiercest battlefield among the stars was far less than the wails of those alien souls when they were ruthlessly consumed by the Spider Empress.

Morgan even felt that he was compassionate.

What an act of mercy and justice on the part of these contemptible and abominable alien beings, useless garbage, that she could use to create such wonderful powers and miracles that their souls could give their only value in her will.

So, she wasn't surprised when the horde she had sent out delivered good news to her as quickly as possible.

Following the guidance of these souls, Morgan's gaze penetrated the boundary between reality and fantasy, and temporarily came to the subspace, she saw that the fleets of the Randan were still endlessly flocking to this unyielding galaxy, and she saw the most massive and gorgeous war engines ready for battle one after another, hoping that their charge would completely end this somewhat long war.

But instead of stopping for a moment on these fragile little creatures, her goal was to move over the crude machinery to the truly dangerous object.

In the core area of the Randan Fleet, there are two artificial worlds that are large enough to rival small planets, one of which is completely wrapped in endless black armor, and can only vaguely feel the large number of special cables and psionic aura on it, Morgan can use her third eye to glimpse the secret of the world's core:

A life so powerful that even she felt jealous was using a device that would not be comfortable for any psyker, constantly consuming her own strength and even life to produce some kind of special psionic aura, there is no doubt that when those Ran Dan's soldiers absorbed these aura, they became fearless and fearless on the battlefield, and even those who were too young and old aliens also had amazing courage.

And the price of all this is that this Ran Dan's [Emperor] can barely move, and it has to be imprisoned on the instrument it chooses every moment, burning its own souls and the souls of other aliens to support the courage and fearlessness of this terrifyingly large and terrifying fleet.

Morgan's gaze stayed on the scene for less than a second: she could feel the pain of the device, and she could feel the determination to endure so much pain in the face of it.

But she doesn't care.

She doesn't care about the fate of a doomed alien miscellaneous.

Then, she shifted all her attention to the place that really deserved her attention, the soul collection that occupied the small half of the battle moon, it was obviously the best protected, and the Randan battleships gathered around it were densely packed, like a depressing black forest.

Morgan looked at that thing, and in the deepest memories of the Randan wizards she had extracted, she was targeting this so-called [Destiny Engine] with the most important attitude.

She began to calculate, she measured how many souls she had left, she estimated whether her next actions would hurt herself.

It didn't take long.

Almost in the next second, the genoplasm that was at the very core of the Indomitable Truth received a message from his blood relative.

[I've found it, Johnson, and I can get it in the hunting ground when it takes about half a Terra.] 】

The knight king of Caliban let a glimmer of light slip through his gloomy pupils, and he silently watched the tactical holographic projection in front of him: despite Morgan's assistance, these days of combat were still extremely difficult, and on countless occasions, Randan's warship almost tore through the thin front of the First Legion and completely divided Johnson's men.

But every attempt and attack of the Xenomorphs has eventually fallen at the feet of the Inner Ring, and a large number of the Lion King elite, including the Sandalwood Order, have slaughtered countless challengers, leaving the blood of blasphemy flowing on every deck, and leaving none of these powerful warriors alive.

It can't be consumed any longer.

Johnson spoke, his voice already hoarse.

"Yes, let's do it."

[Very well, Johnson, I still need a few more things, including at least two hundred psionics singing with me, and ......]

"Needless to say."

Johnson's gaze had already returned to the battle situation, and he spoke, his words were absolute confirmation and promise.

"Whatever you want, just issue your own orders, I've asked the First Legion to treat your orders as equal to mine, at least in this war, you and I have the power to dispatch the Dark Angels."

"Now, let it go."

"Give it to me, get in!"

——————

The promise from a blood relative made Morgan's mood a little cheerful, and for the first time since the battle began, it was the first time.

Exuding her will, she delivered orders to every element she needed, and watched with satisfaction as the First Legion began to act under her will.

But she didn't slacken, nor was she stupid enough to sabotage Johnson's plan, her will swept across the battlefield over and over again, and with the long discussion with Johnson before the battle began, she could see at once which plan her blood relatives were currently using, and without destroying Johnson's plan, Morgan mobilized the strength she needed as quickly as possible.

And before everything was ready, she let out a breath and glanced at the heir she was eyeing.

Hecht's situation made Morgan's brow jump slightly, and she left the breath there.

Her pride pawn needs it.

——————

Slaughter.

Endless slaughter.

Dangerous massacre.

There is no end to slaughter.

In a straight line, it was only about fifty meters from the ground to the storage room of the giant engine, but in battle, even the closest distance was as untrustworthy as the moon in the water.

The lighting system of the underground passage has been completely destroyed, and the neat and serious corridor is already covered with foul-smelling corpses, wreckage, and blood, and only the intermittent lights provide some inadvertently providing some vision.

The figure of the Randan soldier loomed in the ultraviolet rays of the automatic sensor, like a monster lurking in the night, swarming out from every corner, every obstacle was a bloody battle, and every staircase had to fall several lives.

Reason was tortured, thought was tortured, and once well-coordinated squads and training were shattered in the face of an endless black wave, Hector could feel that he was fighting alone: his companions were still not down, they were still fighting, he could hear their shouts, their battle cries, the sound of bombs and plasma roaring.

But they weren't with him.

He rushed too fast.

He listened, he felt, he prayed for answers from the admiring power within him, he searched for breath other than blood and the stench in the incessant fighting.

He heard the crackling of heavy blasters, and the sound of plasma, but it seemed far away from him.

He heard the shadows streak, the order to be expected, but before he could reach his throat, countless screams overwhelmed him.

He was furious, he roared, he swung his blade, taking hundreds of lives between breaths and breaths, making every inch of the parched earth wet again, until he heard the fearful gasps of the aliens, until he saw the sign in the light that appeared in the middle of the mission, until he noticed a figure not far from him.

Tall, burly, arrogant.

Invincible, indescribable.

The creature's finely crafted armor set it apart from each of its companions, and its scarlet eyes reflected a certain power, something that made Astarte puff up his muscles and prepare to embrace death.

Hector breathed deeply.

He recognized the monster, the monster he had faced.

Forbidden Army.

Ran Dan's forbidden army.

And this time, Morgan's proud pawn can only be left alone.

(End of chapter)