27: Our Imperial Renovation Team has always only dealt with demolition, not burial.

[star-glory - B-4 Zone: Central Crystal Corridor]

The air was thick with a nauseating, cursed mixture of scents.

Expensive violet incense mingled with the acrid stench of burnt engine oil and the metallic tang of fresh blood.

The smell was like a grandly dressed lady, drenched in perfume, being disemboweled in a filthy slaughterhouse.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Heavy, rhythmic footsteps echoed through the narrow corridor, each one sounding like the strike of Death's pendulum, stepping directly onto one's heart.

The velvet-covered floor let out groans of being overwhelmed.

The crystal floor tiles, only a few millimeters thick and carved with exquisite patterns, were as fragile as centuries-old dried biscuits before the half-ton mk ii power armor.

Fine spiderweb cracks constantly exploded under the black Ceramite combat boots, fragments piercing the velvet rug with a slight, grating crunch.

This was a silent funeral procession.

D-01 walked at the very front.

That massive-caliber Bolter had already been lowered, hanging steadily from the magnetic suction buckle at his waist.

In its place was the heavy Chainsword in his hand, already activated and in a low-speed standby state.

The serrated teeth turned slowly, emitting a low, suppressed hum, like a hungry large feline purring deep in its throat, ready to pounce and maul at any moment.

In his tactical goggles, this originally luxurious corridor, hung with famous oil paintings and gold-threaded tapestries, was merely a passage filled with tactical blind spots and various fragile covers.

The data stream on his retina refreshed rapidly, cold and precise.

[Environmental Scan: Left wall thickness 20mm, material crystal glass, cover rating F (can be pierced bare-handed).]

[Heat Source Detection: 30 meters ahead, behind the corner, 12 biological signals detected. Energy level reaction: Low. Tachycardic, judged to be in a state of extreme panic.]

D-01 did not say a single word in the communication channel.

In this newborn legion, words were redundant; only action was truth.

He simply raised his left hand slightly, making a simple, swift cutting gesture.

The four black warriors behind him immediately dispersed silently.

Two warriors pressed against the walls, using shadows and statues to obscure their massive forms.

The other two half-knelt and raised their Bolters, forming a perfect indoor assault crossfire net, sealing off all possible shooting angles... [End of Corridor - Crystal Energy Guard Temporary Defense Line]

"They're coming... those black monsters!"

A young guard wearing a silver breastplate carved with complex magic patterns had hands that trembled violently, tightly gripping his Magitech Spear.

Beside him was a group of equally terrified companions.

They relied on several overturned mahogany cabinets, massive crystal statues, and toppled sofas to barely construct a temporary, precarious-looking barricade.

In the very center of the defense line stood a female spellcaster in deep blue silk robes—High Magister Aila.

She was the strongest magic user on this ship besides the Commander, yet her forehead was currently covered in fine beads of cold sweat.

"Hold steady! Do not panic!"

Aila's voice was sharp and high-pitched, a cluster of blinding electric light condensing at the tip of her staff, attempting to illuminate this suffocating darkness and dispel the fear in her heart.

"They only have physical attacks! No mana fluctuations! As long as they don't get close, our shields are invincible! For the glory of the Federation!"

She tried to use these words to boost morale, and also to convince herself.

After all, in the war logic of the Crystal Energy Federation, there were no swords or spears that shields couldn't block; the physical collisions of barbarians were meaningless before magic.

However, those heavy footsteps drew closer and closer.

Thump, thump, thump.

Grey-black silhouettes pierced the gunpowder smoke at the end of the corridor, appearing in their sight like reefs emerging from the abyss.

There were no shouts, no roars of a charge, not even any redundant movements.

The five black steel giants were simply... walking.

Step by step, advancing at a constant speed.

That arrogance of ignoring everything was more terrifying than any roar.

They were like five mobile gravestones, pressing down with the chill of death and an unstoppable will.

"Fire! Attack!"

Aila screamed as she swung her staff, her voice breaking from extreme fear.

Sizzle—Boom!

A thick bolt of lightning, carrying a burnt smell, surged from the tip of the staff, accurately striking the leading giant in the center of the corridor.

Simultaneously, a dozen arcane light bullets fired from Magitech Spears rained down, illuminating the dim corridor as bright as day.

The light swallowed D-01's silhouette.

Dust rose everywhere, the carpet there instantly carbonized by the high temperature, and the air filled with the pungent smell of ozone.

"We hit him!"

The young guard shouted in surprise, a flicker of hope flashing in his eyes.

But in the next second, his smile froze on his face, turning into deeper despair.

The dust settled.

The black giant still stood there, his posture not having changed in the slightest.

There was an extra large scorched mark on his breastplate, a kiss from the lightning, but that was all.

The Ceramite composite armor, several centimeters thick, showed despairing heat capacity and insulation in the face of energy attacks at this level.

D-01 didn't even stop his pace.

He just raised his hand and wiped the scorched spot on his chest, as if brushing off a speck of dust from his clothes.

Then, he continued forward.

This silent mockery completely shattered the guards' final psychological defense line.

"Mon... Monster!"

Someone dropped their weapon and turned to run.

Panic spread through the defense line like a plague, and the already unstable formation collapsed instantly.

And in that very instant, D-01 moved.

If you thought a warrior in half-ton power armor was clunky, that was the greatest misunderstanding.

The servo-muscular fibers built into the mk ii power armor instantly overloaded with electricity at this moment, and the power pack on his back let out a shriek, venting two plumes of white exhaust.

Boom!

D-01's silhouette blurred instantly, pulling an afterimage through the air.

A distance of over ten meters was crossed in 0.5 seconds.

He was like a derailed armored train, carrying unrivaled kinetic energy, crashing directly into the barricade made of expensive mahogany furniture and crystal statues.

Crash—!!!

Priceless solid wood furniture turned into flying wood chips under the half-ton kinetic impact.

The two guards hiding behind it didn't even have time to scream before they were sent flying along with the cabinets, slammed heavily against the wall.

The sound of bones shattering was so crisp it was grating, like dry branches being snapped.

"Stop him! Golems!"

Aila retreated in horror, her staff waving frantically as she tried to summon reinforcements.

Two two-meter-tall Silver Metal Golems rushed out from a side door, raising massive tower shields in an attempt to flank D-01.

D-01 did not dodge. He didn't even raise his Chainsword.

He simply used the momentum of his charge to lift his right leg and kick the shield of the golem on the left with savage force.

Clang!!!

A massive boom shook the entire corridor.

The metal golem, weighing several hundred kilograms, was like a kicked empty soda can; its entire chest and shield caved in as it flew backward, smashing into the wall so hard it couldn't be pried out.

This was the violent aesthetic of the Imperial war machine.

Technique and magic were both fragile before absolute mass and kinetic energy.

By now, the remaining four black warriors had also cut into the battlefield.

What followed was, naturally, a one-sided slaughter.

Vrrr—

The Chainswords finally began to roar at full power, the sound of the rotating teeth like the sneer of the Grim Reaper.

A warrior swung his Chainsword from top to bottom, with the sound of whistling wind, cleaving toward a guard trying to resist with a Magitech Shield.

There was no clanging sound of metal colliding as expected.

The high-speed rotating monomolecular teeth, the moment they contacted the shield, were like a hot knife through butter, instantly tearing through that thin layer of magical light.

Next was the metal skin of the shield, and then the despairing human body behind it.

Squelch—Splurt!

A large amount of red and white matter sprayed out with the rotation of the teeth, coating the priceless oil painting on the wall, adding a touch of terrifying red makeup to that smiling noblewoman.

"This... this isn't war..."

Aila leaned against the cold wall, watching the hellish scene before her, the staff slipping from her hand to the floor.

This was not the war she understood.

There was no chanting, no turns, no elegant exchanges.

Only the sound of tearing, screams, and the silence of those black giants who didn't say a word even while slaughtering.

D-01 turned around.

His snarling faceplate was splattered with blood, looking exceptionally hideous under the reflection of his eerie green tactical goggles.

He walked toward Aila step by step, each pace feeling like it was treading on her soul.

"No... I am a noble! I have immunity!"

Aila raised her hands, trying to use the rules of the civilized world to protect herself, her voice trembling and tears streaming down her face. "I can surrender! I can pay a ransom! I have my family's crest, I have..."

D-01's footsteps paused for a moment.

He was listening.

But he wasn't listening to her pleas for mercy; he was listening to the faint, cold instruction from the Commander in his earpiece.

"Clear."

It was Li Cang's voice. It carried a hint of impatience, like dealing with a bag of trash that needed to be processed.

He didn't need prisoners.

Prisoners meant diverting manpower to guard them, which meant consuming precious tactical resources.

And on this ship, every minute was burning money.

D-01 nodded slightly.

He raised his hand, not to accept a surrender,

But to raise that heavy Bolter, the dark muzzle almost pressing against Aila's delicate, terrified face.

"You... barbarians..."

Aila's pupils shrank to the size of pinpoints; that was the last thing she saw in this world.

Bang.

A dull gunshot.

The world went quiet.

There was no complex magical duel, no final struggle before death.

Only a headless corpse slowly sliding onto the expensive carpet, blood quickly staining the white silk robes red.

[System Notification: Enemy high-level unit eliminated.]

[Obtained: High-Energy Magic Core x 1.]

[Obtained: GP + 100.]

D-01 stepped over the corpse, not even looking down at the priceless magic gemstone that had rolled onto the floor.

He looked up, through the still-smoking muzzle, toward the heavy airtight door at the end of the corridor that had been locked from the inside by the guards.

It was a blast-proof isolation door cast from Mithril Alloy, strong enough to withstand small explosions.

If it were another civilization, they might need a hacker to crack it or to find a key.

But the First Legion didn't need that.

They were a renovation team.

"Demolition Squad."

D-01 made a simple gesture.

Two warriors stepped forward and took pieces of grey plastic explosives from their waists—these were Cluster Demolition Grenades, specialized for directional destruction of heavy armor and fortifications.

They skillfully attached the explosives to the door hinges and locking points, their movements as precise as if they were performing surgery.

"Fall back."

A binary signal flashed through the tactical network.

Boom!!!

The fire from the directional blast flared, the shockwave vibrating through the entire corridor.

That sturdy blast door wasn't blown away; instead, because the hinges and locks were instantly destroyed, it simply fell inward, crashing heavily onto the floor and kicking up a cloud of dust.

The scene behind the door was revealed to everyone.

It was an even wider passage leading to the bridge's core elevator.

But there, even D-01 couldn't help but pause his footsteps.

Because it was piled high with furniture, statues, and even metal plates torn from the walls.

The entire passage was packed tight, like a mountain of trash.

And behind those obstacles, dozens of flickering muzzles and Magitech Cannons could be vaguely seen, slowly charging.

They had blocked all visible paths, constructing a death trap within the line of sight.

"Commander. Heavy roadblock encountered ahead. Estimated losses for a frontal assault: 15%."

D-01 reported through the neural link, his voice remaining calm, as if merely stating an inconsequential piece of data.

A few seconds later.

Li Cang's voice came through, carrying the kind of coldness and shrewdness only a capitalist has when looking at a financial report.

"The road is blocked?"

"Who told you to walk on the road?"

"Look to your left."

D-01 turned his head and looked at the left wall through the thermal imaging mode of his tactical goggles.

It was a crystal wall painted with exquisite murals.

According to the structural scan just now, behind the wall was... a ventilation duct maintenance well, leading directly to the bridge.

"How much Bolter ammunition is left?" Li Cang asked.

"Average of 2.1 rounds per person."

"Enough."

"We're going to the bridge, not walking the red carpet."

"D-01, smash that wall open for me."

"Since they like blocking doors, we'll enter from somewhere they don't expect."

"This is also... part of the renovation."

D-01 was silent for 0.1 seconds.

Then, he raised the Chainsword that already thirsted for blood and aimed it at the priceless mural wall.

Vrrr—!!!

As stone fragments flew and the wall collapsed, the First Legion showed the universe their core tactical logic:

If you can't solve the roadblock, solve the building.