Chapter 249: The Tragic Huaiyaner

In the eastern star region, a certain star sector five hundred worlds away.

The broken warship wreckage rolls silently in the cold void, and at its snarling breach, a mass of debris and corpses is tugged by the ship's weak gravity, drifting like grains of sand.

There is no sound, only the slight displacement of a massive body colliding with the hull; a waist‑severed Huaiyaner drags dried, frozen entrails, and the faint dark‑red glow in the helmet's eyes reflects the distant void.

Under the assault of a rebel navy fleet led by the Death Guard, the Huaiyaner and the increasingly scarce Qianzi troops are holding a desperate resistance.

Macro Cannon fire echoes in the darkness, yet this blaze now unfolds simultaneously on both sides of the system.

On the other side, however, is the Outrama auxiliary fleet led by the Extreme Warrior.

The Huaiyaner, who first rebelled then rejoined, is now, in the eastern star region far from Terra, besieged simultaneously by the loyalist and rebel factions.

At the very center of the battlefield, a satellite barren save for scattered structures.

Inside a tawny monastery.

There is no bright lighting, nor any bustling town.

At this moment within the monastery, accompanied by a few faint candles, a towering Original Body kneels on one knee, earnestly praying toward a newly erected statue at the far end.

Outside, yellow sand fills the sky, and the overhead is intermittently lit by warship self‑destruct flashes.

Even in the distant, sand‑howling reaches, the ground periodically trembles from Macro Cannon bombardments.

Yet none of these affect Luojia.

Luojia kneels devoutly, facing the statue that was supposed to bring him to meet Terra, but instead a Xisi statue surrounded by Helusu and Kiriman's joint encirclement appears.

Boom~

Another slight tremor shakes the monastery roof, shedding a spray of sand.

The sand lands on Luojia's ornate Power Armor, even slipping down his exposed neck into his clothing, causing great discomfort.

Nevertheless, Luojia persists in completing the prayer; after reciting the final line, he looks up at the solemn Xisi iron statue before him, its face full of compassion.

"Sir, the Death Guard forces have landed in the northern hemisphere; the frontline Qianzi corps is requesting reinforcements,"

Magnus was taken to Terra by Xisi, and now the Huaiyaner and the Qianzi coalition are under Luojia's command.

At this moment, a Huaiyaner company commander speaks cautiously, seeking Luojia's orders on the battle.

But in truth, even though Luojia still gazes devoutly at the statue, he pays no heed to his offspring.

The Huaiyaner company commander who rushed to report also knows there is little that can be done now.

Because even with the sand howling as cover, the sheltered corner outside the monastery's main gate still echoes countless wounded cries of agony.

Even the mighty Astat, battered by the double‑sided onslaught, suffers excruciating wounds.

Just beyond a single wall of the monastery, countless untreated wounded lie in a dense heap.

The legion's medics, at this moment, can only assume the role of priests, continuously offering psychological comfort to the wounded.

"Tell the Qianzi I will go personally to reinforce,"

Luojia finally withdraws his gaze from Xisi's statue and conveys a directive to the waiting company commander.

The commander is startled; his face lacks the joy his Father of Genes would have shown at going to the front, only a daze before subconsciously glancing at the myriad wounds covering Luojia.

The once‑splendid Power Armor is already riddled with wounds and cracks.

Now the only thing on Luojia that remains intact is the scripture belt inscribed with Xisi's holy words.

Luojia ignores his offspring's pleas, grabs his helmet, and turns to leave the monastery.

He pushes the door open, and the first sound outside is a chorus of painful moans across the ground.

Numerous armless, leg‑less Astats, unable to fight independently, lie on the ground, exposed to the encroaching sand.

The medics who should be providing care, lacking medicine, can only repeatedly wipe the sand from the warriors' bodies and wounds.

"Sir..."

"Father..."

The Huaiyaner and Qianzi watch Luojia depart again, weakly showing respect; Luojia looks at the many wounded around him, kneels on one knee beside a fallen patient, reaches out to soothe the wound, and silently prays for them.

Then, as the wounded's face begins to calm, Luojia rises and speaks directly:

"Reallocate more troops from the Extreme Warrior's side to reinforce the traitors,"

"Hold on, hold on, Holy Xisi will not abandon us,"

Luojia's current strategic deployment is to block the Extreme Warrior, who is also becoming more hesitant as the fight goes on, and then brutally strike the Death Guard that is intent on killing him.

Fortunately, Kiriman isn't too dim; although no further direct intel arrives, Kiriman's strategic acuity already senses something amiss.

Of course, this is mainly because both Kiriman and the Huaiyaner belong to surge‑troop type legions.

After the initial grueling clash, Kiriman needs some time to reorganize.

Thus, even without logistics, Luojia can still lead two remnants to hold off the double‑sided assault.

After Luojia finishes speaking, the surrounding wounded—not only Huaiyaner but also many desperate Qianzi—hold back their pain and silently recite "Holy Xisi" once.

Then, perhaps because the chant was too loud, the nearby comm station is abruptly jolted awake.

A Huaiyaner recruit, startled by the prayer, quickly connects the comm, hums a few times, then his complexion changes.

"Sir, the fleet in orbit reports detecting another spatial fluctuation!"

The Huaiyaner recruit's face turns pale; the densely packed wounded lying in the sand also show a change in complexion.

Only Luojia remains unmoved; after completing prayers for the wounded at his feet, he rises and looks upward.

Accompanied by the increasingly noisy chatter on the adjacent comm channel.

Above, the fleets engaged in fire exchange cause a spatial ripple, clearly visible even on the ground, suddenly reverberating!

Massive battle moons, one after another, suddenly appear behind the Death Guard.

Enormous stellar vessels indiscriminately crush the unprepared Death Guard warships into fragments.

The fragments then fall onto the battle moons, where the dense Green Skin gathers them, forging them into uniquely Green‑Skin junk ships.

Even the solitary battle moon, traversing time and space, now releases numerous small junk ships from its massive body to serve as its escort.

It's just that, compared to the flustered death guards above their heads scrambling to deal with these suddenly appearing things, there are a full nine battle moons.

What truly made Luoja widen his eyes was the appearance of these nine battle moons in orbit.

Driving back the surrounding death guard fleet, that huge ship slowly activated subspace!

Xisi, he's come back......