No one could count how many of the Space Wolves' warships had torn through the last curtain left by the Dark Angels and rushed to the fiercest front lines of the battlefield, into the almost defenseless fleet of Randan.

Even the space wolves themselves don't know the exact number, and they don't care, the Son of Riemanrus only wants to kill now.

Killing.

The Geller stance surrounding the Harafenkel was constantly shining due to severe overloading, and around it were the inseparable iron wolves, forming a sharp spearhead of more than thirty warships, and in the first moment after breaking through gravity and barriers, it plunged headlong into the chaotic array of the alien empire.

And throughout the Taxs system, there are now countless iron-gray spearheads like this, coming from all directions, rushing out of the pocket space that has trapped them for a long time, full of anger and thirst for war, and in the first moment set off an irresistible frenzy.

Charge, bite, tear, kill.

As every Fenris has long aspired from childhood: to devote himself to the greatest war, to fall to the greatest slaughter, to ascend to the greatest feat.

"Look at these ......"

When Riemanlus ordered his Queen of Glory to advance as fast as he could, he slumped on his throne without saying a word, leaving his most trusted heirs to command the furious advance of the fleet: there were no tactics or instructions, charge and kill were everything, and the Fenris never needed someone to guide them in these things.

The Wolf King searched, searching through a galaxy of blood and death with his most instinctive beastly habits, and through the orniths and his transcendent vision, Riemanlus could easily see everything around him.

He saw the wreckage of perhaps thousands of warships scattered in the very center of this vast galaxy, he saw the shattered ruins of the vast metal that marked the supremacy of the Human Empire and Randan, and he saw the whole world falling under a dangerous threat, the unsettling darkness of the ruins that devoured iron and blood like the legendary Death Eaters.

The stars of Tux still relentlessly overlook every life, giving light, heat, and dark crimson to every child who gets too close, making countless war engines seem to be fighting in a mottled deep forest, one after another with a layer of distorted color, just looking at it, it arouses an infinite desire to hunt.

"Father, ......"

Riemanrus sighed softly, grinning, fangs stained a dirty white in the blinding glow of the many steel warships.

"Johnson, this bastard, this miserly Caliban bitch, what kind of war and killing did he secretly enjoy behind my back, in the name of Mokai, if he can't let me kill well, then I'm not done with him......"

In the whispers of its master, the Harafenkel was unstoppable, and by its side were ten battleships side by side, and the best Void Force of the Space Wolf Legion had assembled at this moment, inexorably breaking through the Void Defenses of the improvised Alien Empire layer after layer, and launching the first and only round of charge towards their only goal.

It didn't take long for Riemanrus to see the world he had to conquer in his command room: it was too striking, and it wasn't too far from where he was ambushed.

Thinking of this, Riemannus could not help but settle a conjecture again in his own mind: a conjecture about the author of all this.

One...... Sisters?

Interesting.

He didn't need more evidence at all, and he confirmed it when he saw it all in front of him: a galaxy that had almost fallen into subspace, and an artificial world that had been forcibly dragged into the real universe.

He didn't think that Nerd Magnus could do all of this: well, maybe he could, at great cost or with a lot of preparation, but then again, if even his brother Magnus had to work so hard to do all this, would the other person who could do it really be a mere mortal next to his brother Johnson?

What happened on Duran was like a flash of thunder across the summer night, giving Riemanrus an even more joyful smile.

His brother Johnson......

It's a little secret.

All the thoughts in the original mind were just a moment in reality, and before the next moment came, Riemanlus had already risen from his throne and slowly walked between his heirs and warriors.

The [Engine of Destiny] had already appeared in front of their eyes, and in terms of the advancing speed of the Void Battleship, it was almost a stone's throw away.

At the first glance at it, Riemanruth understood why the most stubborn aliens had such a name.

No one knows if the battle moon is a man-made product or not, but in Riemanrus's estimates, it seems to be larger than the moon of Divine Terra [Luna], and the whole body is occupied by a kind of black color that contrasts with the light, which seems to be some kind of protective carapace, and through the orniths on the battleship, Riemanrus can carefully observe the details of the world: the continuous fortresses and defensive lines like mountains, the towering air defense towers and artillery positions are as many as the sand under the waves, He could even see the alien soldiers occupying every inch of the surface, and their equipment looked even better than that of the children of Riemanruth, but a rough estimate put it in the hundreds of millions.

And in the [North Pole] of this world, it is to set their ultimate goal: the towering spikes and cables all the way through the sky, the dazzling scarlet color can be clearly felt even from a small half of the galaxy, when the wolf of Fenris inadvertently looks at this so-called [engine of destiny], everyone will feel a kind of disgust and violence from the bones, eager to destroy this blasphemous thing.

Even Riemannus was no exception.

"Look at these Void Shields, we won't be able to gnaw them even in a hundred years."

Someone whispered beside the Wolf King, who was his most trusted subordinate: Jolin from Fenris, the Thirteenth Wolf Lord, the only one who could be presumptuous and confrontational in front of Riemanrus.

"yes, so we have to land on the other side of this world, tear all the hindrances to pieces, chop off thousands of alien brains, and then we can smash this bitch thing, and then listen to how those eggless Ran Dan cubs cry."

Riemannus responded to his men with a sharp laugh that caused a burst of laughter that could tear down the roof: at this moment, there were many wolf warriors gathered here, they crowded the bridges and corridors, their rough breathing forming a large mist, waiting for the gang jump order at any moment.

Everyone knows that it won't be long.

Riemanlus gave the order, and at his will, the orniths were temporarily removed from the world in front of him and moved to other corners of the galaxy, and the wolf king of Fenris took a few moments to care about his legion, briefly browsing the situation of the other detachments.

Just like the real wilderness wolves on the ancient Terra, hunters loyal to Riemanrus swarmed out from all sides of this galaxy and successfully pierced the flanks and countless weak points of the Randan fleet: even Riemanrus had to admit that this was thanks to Johnson, even when the battle situation was most difficult, the Dark Angel's genetic prototype had been worried about the use of the space wolf, and throughout the battle, the fleet of the First Legion had always deliberately pulled Randan's attention under the command of Johnson, This ensures that the space wolf can rush to the back of the alien at the first time, and wave its fangs and claws to the fullest extent before all opponents can react.

Countless jumper torpedoes and teleportation flashes have spread across most of the battlefield, and the iron-gray battleships continue to deliver their deadliest weapons: thousands of Astarte warriors, hundreds of the largest steel warships of Randan, and many more small warships burning, tumbling, and shattering in this unguardable attack.

The human empire's counterattack was like a wolf's claws grabbing the neck of an elk, and in the first moment blood was spilled out, and chaotic announcements ran rampant on the public communication platform: successful ship, outnumbered, mutated, dying, slaughtering......

Victory, roaring, crying for help, calling, swearing, roaring, charging, last words......

In the blink of an eye, dozens of battles ended in the stars and chaos, and more battles were staged in every corner of the battleship, many wild wolves fell, and with them many more alien warriors.

As for the dark angels, no one knows their situation, and it is true that many warships of the First Legion have followed the pace of the space wolves into the chaotic alien fleet, but there is always dead silence in their communication channels, only the constantly jumping strange warships and the sunken Randan war engines tell the story of the contribution of these mysteries to the war.

The Wolf King did not linger long on these matters, and despite the reports of losses and victories, and despite the heavy casualties they had, Riemannus did not listen at all, and he was staring intently at his target, at the prey that was getting closer and closer to his ship.

The distance was narrowed, the defense line was broken, and although those alien warships were trying to stop the Wolf King's pace at all costs, the chaotic situation did not allow them to exert their stronger strength at all, especially when more and more warships tore through Ran Dan's array from all angles and gathered to the left and right of the [Harafin Kell], the alien blocking had become a painless desperate struggle.

It didn't take long for Riemanlus to look at the battle situation in front of him with satisfaction: the last Randan battleship between him and the [Destiny Engine] had also collapsed, and the dense void fortresses and defensive arrays in the artificial world were also unable to raise their heads under the ferocious fire of hundreds of warships, the gap had been torn open, and the alien reinforcements had not yet arrived.

Now is the time.

"The dice have been rolled ......"

The Wolf King murmured, and then his cry resounded through every inch of the Glorious Queen.

"Full throttle! Stay vigilant! Charged Cannon! Sail as fast as you can! Turn your shield up to maximum power! ”

"My warriors! My herd! My children! ”

"Today!"

"Unstoppable!"

"Kill them all!"

"For the whole father!"

He took a deep breath.

"Prepare to jump!"

——————

The cries of the wolves were overwhelming, and the vows of devotion to their genetic father and great father were sounded one after another in a certain corridor, and all the warriors were rushing to the drop bay, anxiously waiting for round after round of delivery.

Only Riemanrus had not yet made immediate moves, and the Genoplasm of the Sixth Legion stood in front of his throne, waiting for the two things he needed before he could go to the battlefield.

He didn't have to wait long.

Guardian of the Genetic Prototype: Black Blood pushes left and right through the raging wolves, all the way to his own genetic father, respectfully offering what Riemanlus loves and hates.

Bacchus Spear.

"I hate this thing......"

Looking at the infinitely powerful divine weapon in front of him, the wolf king of Fenris muttered softly, if he could, he really didn't want to use this thing.

In fact, he had lost it many times, but at this most critical and important moment, Riemannruth knew that he had no room for willfulness, and he had to hold it.

That's the biggest difference between him and some nerds.

Somewhat unaccustomed to shaking this weapon that was enough to destroy the world, the wolf king turned his neck slightly, and began to wait for his second reinforcement: his brother Johnson had promised it long before the war began.

He didn't have to wait long either, and almost the next moment, an unbridled wave of psionic energy began to surge in front of the throne of Riemanrus, causing both the wolf king and his guards to frown involuntarily: strangely, the mortals and wolf slaves who still controlled the various command platforms did not react.

Morgan soon appeared.

The wolf king of Fenris glanced at her, and then Riemannus pursed his lips and raised his brow, his eyes bulging forward, his cheeks and the corners of his mouth bulging out distinctly, and his huge nose sniffed like a wolf checking the smell of blood in the wind.

On the other hand, the performance of the original guards was more direct: the expression of the black blood seemed to see Riemann Ruth and Johnson dancing the little swan dance while hooking their shoulders.

There is no other reason than to come out of the waves of psionic energy.

It was perhaps three meters tall and could easily overlook the Astarte warriors......

Genoplasma.

——————

"Ah......h

"What should I say?"

"Welcome...... Go home? ”

Riemanrus grinned, but not the slightest surprise, he bared his two fangs and looked at his blood relatives with interest.

I don't know why, after really confirming the identity of the person in front of him, the wolf king of Fenris thought of something else.

In this way, on Duran, it was a genetic protoplasm of the same level as him who defeated Yolin and the Black Blood?

…… Hey!

If you think so, then his cubs are not bad.

Riemanrus's mood improved, and even the cold Bacchus spear in his hand could not stop this.

He took a few steps forward, and before his heir could react, he lowered his head and looked at this blood relative, who was still a little shorter than himself.

"Looks like I should have figured it all out on Duran."

[It's not too late, is it? 】

Morgan raised her head slightly, she casually glanced at the wolf guard who was still in a sluggish state, and showed a cold smile to her brother.

Riemanrus touched his chin, a little unable to suppress the doubts in his heart.

"Before I go, I have a little bit of a question I want to ask."

"Why did you choose to reveal your true identity at this time?"

He was answered with a short, rough laugh, and a well-deserved answer that did not make people feel the slightest rebuttal.

——————

[If you don't exert your full strength. 】

[How can you hold the wolf that has escaped? 】

——————

When the two genetic prototypes arrived at the location of the drop pod, only the one belonging to Riemann Ruth was still alone in his place, enjoying the maintenance and care of the mechanical monks.

"Together?"

Faced with Riemanrus's invitation, the Spider Empress simply patted her brother on the shoulder, then shook her head and refused.

[I need to wait for my guards.] 】

"You have guards?"

[Soon after. 】

The wolf king pouted, but did not continue to ask, he swaggered towards his airdrop pod, and did not forget to wave goodbye to his blood relatives.

"Remember to hurry."

"I'm not going to wait for you."

After he left, Morgan slowly turned around, snapped his fingers, and a blue circle appeared in front of her.

The Genoplasma of the Second Legion laughed like this.

Morgan stood in a dappled light and shadow, which was originally a rough and savage corridor on the Harafenkel, covered with primitive ice and snow decorations, but after the influx of countless void images, the cannon fire of war, the light of the stars, and the countless mixed colors of ash and blood poured in, as if colorful raindrops had fallen into a calm snow-capped mountain pond, and there were bursts of agitation.

In this way, Morgan stood in the midst of such colors, the darkest, roughest, and most complicated colors in the world stayed in her pupils, but they did not leave the slightest.

It's as if she's embracing everything.

She didn't seem to care about anything.

When the warriors of the Second Legion emerge from the circle.

That's what they thought at first glance.

“…… Mother. ”

Hector stood in front of everyone without the slightest hesitation, and even before he could really stand still, he fell down on one knee.

He wasn't wearing a helmet, which made it easy for Morgan to see that his face seemed to have some dark purple marks that didn't look like they had been left in battle.

Ajax and Salieri hesitated for a moment, but when their eyes swept over Morgan's face, there was no hesitation or hesitation, and they knelt on the ground, calling their mother.

Then came Eris, whose gaze lingered on Morgan's face for a moment before hurriing away.

As the Spider Empress looked away from the four Heirs, she found that her Shadow Champion had stepped forward, alongside Hecht, and without saying a word, he knelt on the ground, unreservedly holding all his blades across his chest, revealing the fragile link between helmet and armor.

Finally, it was the ancient warrior of the Legion, Kairon, whose gaze lingered on Morgan's face for a long time, as if he was confirming something.

After a long time, the only Terra veteran took a deep breath and did not kneel, but bent deeply.

"Hats off."

"Lord of the Legion."

(End of chapter)