Chapter 285

Chapter 285

Baide's battleship was still rapidly advancing toward the base above.

The main camera shifted away from Baide and into the base.

Several soldiers were fighting a mech, with some occasionally leaping high to deliver either real or feigned strikes, disrupting the mech's rhythm and luring it to a spot that's bad for fighting.

The mech was drawn between two buildings. Realizing this terrain was unfavorable for fighting, it tried to turn around.

One soldier suddenly backed off, then charged from the side at high speed with a sword toward the mech.

Two companions followed, moving toward that soldier, then quickly dropped to one knee, extending their arms. The charging soldier didn't hesitate to step onto them.

The two companions then hurled him upward.

The thrown soldier soared high, adjusting his posture, aiming for the cockpit.

For them, that was the only weak spot on this large mech—it would cause enough pain to the pilot to create an opening.

His aim was true. The soldier succeeded, and the mech lost balance, tilting to one side.

Just that brief moment was enough; the others seized the opportunity, swarming in and bringing the mech down.

This tactic was actually very dangerous. Their protective gear was almost useless against such a large mech. One mistake, one deviation, or a delayed rescue from a teammate could cost them dearly.

"Damn, can anyone explain how much psychic energy this takes?"

"Probably Grade A to interfere with mech operation. With enough Grade A soldiers, disabling one mech isn't news. Ants can bring down an elephant, and Grade A isn't an ant."

"After seeing the first wave of Grance, I actually felt okay with these guys—at least it's not one kill per second. They're struggling. I was almost disappointed, thinking all Grance were at the first wave's level."

"Don't sleep on plain Grade A. You've watched too many resource battles, you think Grade As are a dime a dozen. Their physical abilities are clearly far above average Grade A. You see how those first-wave Grance fought? Countless folks on the StarNet tried to copy that and failed. Someone will probably request a Grance inspection for illegal enhancements."

"But Grance really does fight like this, even in squad battles. Maybe Grance treats Grade A like cabbage?"

"What's so special about this fighting style? Without a mech, you gotta fight like this, right? Whether they're common or not, they just need to be fearless."

"You really do have to be fearless. Here, the mech tried to attack, but the Grance soldier never let go. If anyone was slow, even a second late, giving the mech a chance to react, the first guy would've been toast."

The main camera kept focusing on them. The mech was completely disabled.

The soldier who made the decisive strike pulled out his sword and stood upright. The young man was panting heavily; the main camera showed his chest heaving, it was anyone's guess how long he'd been fighting.

He plopped down. Someone beside him extended a hand. The young man took a deep breath. "Just ten seconds."

"Without a mech, this kind of fight really drains your stamina."

"To maintain such precision in this fatigued state—impressive."

"Wonder what they'd be like in mechs. Bet a lot of people would lose sleep."

"A lot of people are already losing sleep."

The main camera stayed on them.

Baide's flagship had already moved above the base. The fleet made way for it to rejoin formation.

The flagship's hatch opened. A soldier poked his head out—a young man with short brown hair.

He looked down, trying to find a suitable landing spot. Then, scanning in one direction, his pupils contracted.

Between two buildings lay a downed mech with several Grance soldiers on it. In the distance, another mech was charging at them at high speed.

He instinctively wanted to jump from the ship, but a shadow had already flashed by above him.

The main camera didn't see it until that mech appeared in frame. Everything happened quickly.

The Grance soldiers reacted fast. A short-haired girl was the first to spot the danger and yelled a warning. The others scattered every which way almost on instinct.

Only the young man still sitting in the cockpit, and another soldier slightly delayed by a mech's raised weapon on the ground, were slower than the rest.

The soldier on the flank got hit first. The mech, like a steel beast, roared toward them. That soldier had already deviated from the mech's path, but he couldn't dodge completely—one leg got caught under it.

The young man on the cockpit watched his comrade get pulled underneath, about to be crushed.

His eyes widened. Then came a loud crash.

Baide turned sideways, one foot kicked into the angled mech that had been charging. Neither he nor the mech moved.

He had stopped the high-speed mech with nothing but raw physical strength.

The main camera immediately switched to Baide's front. His face was expressionless—rare for the usually easygoing Baide.

A woman with a high ponytail sprinted over. She crouched, draped her comrade's arm over her shoulder, and without hesitation, swung her sword and chopped off the leg trapped under the mech. Then she began dragging him back, shouting over her shoulder at the stunned young man still on the cockpit, "Go! Don't freeze!"

But even if he froze, it didn't matter. More people came, practically dragging them out of the danger zone by force at top speed.

Only after they were a safe distance away did Baide move.

The main camera had just switched to a side angle; before the viewers could react, that mech was already flying through the air, slamming into a wall and slamming deep into it.

For the first time, the Star Alliance's main camera broke protocol and started a replay—from Baide's initial leap to everything that followed.

"Who said Grance soldiers fight the same as squad battle contestants? Is this the same? Both kicking, both using swords—is this the same?"

"The Star Alliance has always bragged about its multi-angle tech, and now they're doing replays during a resource battle?"

"That's insane. Faster than the AI."

"So don't just fixate on the Grance squad fighters. I don't know much, but I'll say this: I think they're all badass."

"Actually, those who understand think the same."

...

Ye He stood up. A large holographic screen unfolded in the command center. Everyone looked up at their young commander.

Ye He raised his voice.

"Increase fleet speed by ten percent. Arrive at the first base within ten minutes. Prepare for landing."

"Begin deployment immediately after landing. I require combat-ready status within twenty minutes from touchdown. If you feel like you're under too much pressure, report it ahead of time. I don't want to hear 'I can't do it' after you've landed."

"Yes, sir!"

The command center kicked into an even higher gear, with many people coming and going.

Even the people who had been sneaking peeks at Ye Mo immediately looked away.

Ye Mo stood up as Ye He rose, instinctively following a few steps behind him. Then Ye He began to work, and Ye Mo just stood there watching him.

Only after finishing everything did Ye He turn to look at Ye Mo. "The battle has already begun."

Ye Mo stirred, then instinctively grasped the sword at his waist, reverting to his previous state—like a startled, bristling cub, anxiously baring its fangs and claws.

It was endearing, but considering he was a Grath, it was also dangerous.

Without hesitation, Ye He approached Ye Mo. He reached out, taking hold of his wrist, and with his other hand pressing against the back of his neck, he applied slight force to make Ye Mo look up, meeting his gaze.

Face to face with Ye He, Ye Mo instinctively relaxed his grip.

"There are no enemies here."

Ye He soothed Ye Mo. "Don't worry."

His tone and expression were the same as before. "The battlefront is Emperor Bode's responsibility."

Ye Mo blinked, snapping back to reality, and let out a sigh of relief. "Bode is very strong. With him there, there’s definitely no problem."

"All Graths are strong. One day you will be too—strong enough to cut through anything."

Even with inferior equipment, there was a saying that all Grath commanders had heard in class and studied in depth: On a battlefield with an S-class, there is a chance to turn the tide.

Back then, the equipment gap wasn't as wide.

But even now, the same principle applies on the Star Alliance battlefield, with a slight adjustment: as long as there was a Grath on the battlefield, there was a chance to turn the tide.

Ye He pressed the back of Ye Mo's neck, applying a bit of force to make him focus on him.

"Now, concentrate on our side. This is our battlefield too."

Then he released his hand, let go of Ye Mo, and walked past him toward the command platform ahead. "Besides, I'm here. You don't need to be nervous. I'll make the best arrangements."

Ye Mo turned to the side, watching Ye He walk to the front of the command platform. He instinctively trailed after Ye He, like a young cub that had sensed danger, uneasy, unsure how to deal with it, but trailing after its parent.

Ye He was sending a message to the main channel. "Worker Bee Fleet has arrived at Base Seven. Expected to land at Base Eight in three minutes. Ready to begin accepting standard requests in twenty minutes. Ready to accept emergency requests at any time."

Bases Seven and Eight were two adjacent bases in the middle of the Grath-controlled sector. They had been assigned to their responsibility. The distance was farther than Bode's side, but they were not near the edge, making them less likely to see combat.

The other Grath fleets also arrived at their assigned bases one after another. Upon arrival, Grath soldiers swarmed out of their warships, quickly taking over the bases.

The initial deployment of the Grath defense line was completed.