29: Then let me ask you, what does it mean to have thousands of troops avoid a white-robed figure?

"Contact the Joint Command!"

After deducing the enemy's objective, Lieutenant Colonel Gulake immediately chose to report it.

"Confirm the identity of the attackers,"

"It's the 'Saints' organization that The Consortium specifically flagged earlier."

"We pursued and annihilated the enemy's decoy fleet,"

"Based on current evidence,"

"the enemy likely has another main fleet carrying large-scale destructive weapons, currently cruising within the galaxy."

"Recommend protecting special and important facilities within the galaxy."

After sending, he nodded, then frowned.

Since the fleet before him was a decoy, where was the enemy's main fleet?

Gulac fell into contemplation.

According to intelligence, the decoy fleet currently in sight had actively attacked.

And it did not evade the patrol teams along the way.

So, from the very beginning, the other party intended to attract attention.

The Galaxy Defense Force is structured in a hierarchical system of "* fleet - * Squadron - * Detachment - * Team," with each level responsible for a specific area.

If the enemy's main fleet was not in his jurisdiction, then he could only say he was fated to miss out on this military achievement.

But if the enemy was still in his jurisdiction,

then,

where could the enemy be?

The decoy fleet that actively exposed itself

likely separated from the main fleet at the moment of attack.

The purpose was to attract attention and allow the main fleet to escape.

As for the claim that the enemy "suddenly appeared," Gulac scoffed.

Those idlers in the Defense Force might not know,

but his father was a vice admiral in the Cosmic Army, and he had recounted many such cases.

Hugging asteroids to avoid detection,

just basic operation.

Of course, the enemy fleet could also be cruising in other unrelated areas.

But that would lack any logical deduction and would rely solely on random patrols.

In other words, the area within his jurisdiction where enemy forces were most likely to be found

was the vicinity of the engagement point.

Weighing the pros and cons,

he decided to take a small gamble.

Immediately, Gulac turned to his first mate and continued:

"It's been just over two hours since the first engagement,"

"Order the fleet to concentrate two-thirds of its strength."

"Conduct an intensive search of the engagement point and the area with it as the center, and a radius equal to a standard Frigate's 3-hour voyage."

"Conduct an intensive search."

"There is a possibility of capturing the enemy's main fleet in this area;"

"At the same time, request a certain amount of support from the directly superior fleet."

The first mate immediately stood at attention, saluted, and loudly replied:

"Yes!"

...Meanwhile, in a densely packed asteroid field,

"Samir, how are our retreat routes coming along?"

Facing Salman's inquiry, Samir confidently pulled out a flexible tablet, unfolded it, and placed it before Salman.

"Connection complete,"

"As soon as that bomb explodes, we can immediately open the Gravity Conduit and leave here."

"It's already traveling at full speed,"

"Right now, there are four minutes left."

Then, he pursed his lips, dissatisfied:

"To be honest,"

"if it weren't for this remote control system's short connection range,"

"we could have just waited for it at the entrance of the Void Channel."

Salman's tightly furrowed brow relaxed slightly, and he softly hummed.

The last four minutes.

He didn't know why, but his heart always had an uncomfortable feeling.

To maintain stealth, they had been traveling through asteroid fields for this entire stretch.

Perhaps it was due to the fatigue and tension of manual piloting... "fleet ahead!"

"We're surrounded!"

Suddenly, the radar operator let out a sharp cry.

On the radar screen, small dots representing heat sources lit up one by one.

They were densely packed,

and they were closing in on them from two sides!

Salman's pupils first froze, then vibrated violently—

Right in front of them, there was also a cruiser!

On the bridge of that cruiser, the lucky, Gulac looked at the more than twenty warships surrounded in front of him, a faint, almost imperceptible smile on his face:

He guessed correctly.

"Got you."

He slowly extended his hand, making a grasping gesture in front of him.

"Take them down!"

..."Damn it."

Salman and Samir cursed simultaneously.

"Quick!"

"First, let the flagship retreat!"

Samir fumbled, operating and shouting.

"The forty cubic meters of void energy on our ship!"

"It can't be allowed to explode!"

Salman, meanwhile, looked at the advancing enemy forces.

Hundreds of Frigates, destroyers, and one cruiser.

There was no possibility of victory.

But holding out for four minutes should be possible.

"Immediately launch all torpedoes!"

The command drifted over,

into the ears of the trembling communications officer beside him.

He heard the command to "launch," didn't he?

The next second, a mighty roar spread through the entire fleet channel:

"Fire!"

Torpedoes and shells, trailing shining light tails, rapidly flew forward.

"All Boarding Crafts away!"

"Target: enemy cruiser!"

"Bang!!!!"

"Clang!!!!"

"Boom!!!!"

Almost simultaneously, a massive volley of shells and torpedoes flew towards them, slamming heavily into the warships.

The fragile Frigates, converted from civilian ships, were all in the decoy fleet. Salman's remaining warships were relatively sturdy.

But most people were still thrown around, disoriented.

Moreover, those Defense Force members seemed to be holding back.

Want to capture them alive?

Heh heh.

"Guard the flagship!"

Amidst the hail of bullets, the Frigates gradually converged towards the Lord of the Desert, like loyal guards.

"For the Sacred Goal!"

Those fanatical desert people, educated with extreme beliefs from childhood,

unconditionally believed in those "messengers" who represented "gods."

After all, it was they who led the desert people to victory over the wasteland... "Clang!"

After all, it was they who led the desert people to victory over the wasteland... "Clang!"

"Hiss, hiss, hiss, hiss—"

A damaged Boarding Craft, after realizing it would absolutely not reach the enemy cruiser,

slammed into the nearest destroyer.

The Arc Cutting Device at the bow of the craft rapidly melted the armor, cutting open a circular boarding passage.

Saints members, clad in combat gear, rushed in, shouting, colliding with the already well-prepared Defense Force.

Flesh and metal mixed together, screams and shouts wafted in the air.

That tactic, which had declined untold millennia ago in the Age of the Last Sails,

once again radiated vitality across the universe—

After tens of thousands of years of glory and decline, humanity finally proved that history is a circle.

"Increase the output power of the Close-in Weapon Systems."

Looking at the swarm-like Boarding Crafts before him, Gulac calmly ordered.

It was nothing more than a dying struggle.

The lucky roared, spewing large amounts of Propellant into space, forming an impenetrable iron net.

The maneuvering engine nozzles were almost overloaded to barely stabilize the deviation caused by the recoil.

Overheating, calculating trajectories, expelling Propellant, then overheating again... Due to the internal oxygen only supporting a momentary flash of fire,

countless Boarding Crafts, after a flash during their charge, turned into scattered fragments.

Gulac's eyes held a hint of pity.

The decline of civilization, the loss of vast technologies, gave willpower a chance to challenge steel—boarding.

But it was merely a chance.

He waved his hand, preparing to end this farce, but the lucky beneath his feet suddenly trembled—

Did someone actually succeed?

Damn it!

He was stunned for a moment.

And it was precisely this moment—

"It's here! It's here!"

Amidst the violent jolting, Samir quickly raised the tablet, screaming hysterically—

"The bomb has reached the detonation point!"

"Our mission... is complete!"