If you want to ask who is most excited to learn that the orcs have been stolen, it is the pilgrims who are still fighting to the death against the Greenskin Fleet in space.

As the Seeker drove its shield all the way to the outer orbit and rampage into their desperate battle of life and death, the station's sheer size seemed to have some sort of mocking effect on the orcs, drawing most of its firepower to itself and giving many Imperial ships a breather.

The pilgrims, who had just breathed a sigh of relief, were surprised to find that this seemingly bulky fortress had a more agile position than many medium-sized cruisers, and the seekers were able to maneuver with agility in the rain of bullets, constantly adjusting and calculating the attitude of crossing the line of fire with the least damage, and pressing on the battle moon step by step, and for a moment it became a suppressive force.

What could be more exciting?

Some.

The heightened emotions of the Pilgrims reached their peak when the Seeker space station finally reached the skies above the Battle Moon under cannon fire, and they saw the orc firepower splash like a cascade on the scarred body of the Seeker, creating a beautiful space fireworks display.

But the seeker of knowledge was unmoved, and only the violent, beautiful and huge mechs were methodically sent out of its waist hangar and airdropped onto the surface of the moon.

God's Machine!

It's strange why these god machines don't have any Imperial symbols, but it's our god machines.

The arrival of the Titan units ignited the fighting spirit of the remnants of the human fleet, and they sang hymns in praise of the emperor, and rushed with even more fearless courage to rush to the orc ships that had fallen into a brief delay due to the theft of the rear, and they burst into tears, and the belief of a large number of humans was so fanatical that it bordered on madness even made the orcs powerful waaagh!! The force field has produced a considerable amount of shaking.

At the same time, there is a group of people who are even crazier than they are.

The Martyrs fleet on the edge of the battlefield was now fully deployed, and they forced their speed to the limit in the shortest possible time, regardless of the damage to the hull, and impatiently flew over Falla to the outer orbit where the second moon was located.

Surprisingly and relievedly, the leader of the Martyrs fleet was actually the particularly conspicuous mechanical research ship, this mobile research laboratory that was not designed for war was actually speeding faster than the exclusive high-speed strike cruiser that the Star Marines were riding, and even in a vacuum, it seemed that the crackling sound of overloaded engines could be heard.

The machine spirit is roaring, and people are worried that if they drive the ship like this, the ship will blow up as it runs.

"Uh...... Is it in such a hurry? "The signals of these ships are moving so fast that they simply shock the gray wind.

Although Grey Wind had learned from Russell that the Automata's admiration for technology and knowledge had become a religion, it clearly didn't quite understand what what what it had just done meant to these knowledge-worshipping oilers.

Created by the legacy of the mechanical pioneers of the stars, the Cyberlux Skeleton is completely different from the Imperial style in terms of design, main structure, and various types of weapons on it, and these technologies may be interoperable in terms of basic physical laws, but they are completely incomparable in terms of application.

These new and stable technologies are nothing less than a rare treasure for the oil guy, no, it is a rare treasure.

The technocrats in the Legion of the Martyrs are like a group of antique/art lovers at the moment, and the sight of a stunned young man holding a court sword handed down from the Gutera period goes to fight with people with real knives and bayonets, and every spark exchange makes their hearts twist.

That stunned blue is the gray wind.

"How is that...... How much is that...... What a thing! ”

Musbell's techno-sage paced back and forth with his hands clenched in front of the brains of the research ship Unsolvable, how distressed he was, how excited he was that he almost crushed his back molars, if he had them.

After sensing that the greenskin fleet was preparing to return to the moon to defend the moon, the sage urgently ordered all ships to support them with full firepower, regardless of their own loads, and to prevent the orcs from successfully launching an orbital bombardment on the lunar surface even if they suffered heavy damage.

"Fire at full power! Open all ranged weapons! Don't skimp on ammo and kill them all! Filthy Orcs...... Filthy orcs! Dirty, barbaric...... We must not allow these beasts to destroy such a beautiful creation......"

The Techno-Sage muttered nervously, and crackling sparks began to erupt from under his robes.

As the Martyrs Fleet intervenes on the battlefield, the mutated tide of battle finally gives a respite to the Pilgrim fleet and the seekers who have been battling the airspace of the Second Moon.

Grey Wind sped up to repair the shield system as he summoned the scattered fleet of Pilgrims to regroup around him, demanding that the injured ships be moored to the fleet anchorage at the bottom of the station for urgent repairs as soon as possible, where Falla's technocrats and technicians were waiting.

With the signal, the fleet heading for the Seeker dragged a stout track that stretched for tens of kilometers, and even after such a terrible war of attrition, the Pilgrim fleet was still much larger than the Martyrs fleet.

The metal debris floating in the airspace of the second moon had become so numerous that the circular shadows cast on the surface of the planet Falla were irregular, and most of the sunken ships were human, but also orcs.

Strong orcs are not vulnerable even when exposed to space, and no one knows how many small orc ships are hiding in this long space junk belt, and at what point they will forcibly assemble a battleship out of junk and continue to waaagh!! Come here.

Fighting the orcs is so desperate.

"Have the humans of this universe been fighting such perverted creatures?"

In the general control room, Gray Feng, who had become a little shorter in height, let go of his hands and lay directly on his back on the table, his two little short legs fluttering listlessly.

"There's no hope...... That kind of guy is so foul......"

Overall, Grey Wind is pessimistic about the war.

With the success of the Seekers and the entry of the Martyrs fleet, the battle line was quickly compressed to the vicinity of the Battle Moon, an iron lump that was more than just the Moon despite its name.

In addition to being an arsenal capable of producing a steady stream of orc junk warships, the Battle Moon itself is also a huge celestial-level weapon, but this weapon has been hovering motionless over the second moon since its appearance, and has not been given any fire support except for the continuous emergence of orc warships taking off from the surface of the moon to join the battlefield, like an ornament.

This made Grey Wind wonder, what was going on on the Battle Moon?