Chapter 225 - 190: The Profusely Sweating Dragon Race Commander

After countless brutal battles, the Vengeance Angel Squad’s tactical coordination had grown increasingly seamless.

Reinhardt didn’t need to explain.

The squad members, familiar with his Knight’s Power Ability, already knew what he was about to do.

Inside the cabin, Manon walked over to Irenia. His gaze passed through the viewport, fixing on the dark purple figure that had launched from the Punisher and was now streaking toward an enemy ship like a meteor.

Even as a veteran of the Emperor’s Shield, he was still utterly shaken by Reinhardt’s insane combat style!

Divine Emperor above.

’This isn’t the ground—we’re over ten kilometers up in the sky!’

’It was one thing in battles involving large vessels, but to charge head-first into a counterattack against these smaller, intra-planetary ships... He was like an angel of death, weaving and leaping between countless enemy craft.’

’He was practically gambling with his own life!’

Although Reinhardt’s offense-as-defense tactic cleared a flight path for the Punisher through the encirclement, a significant number of ships still closed in. Squad after squad of the Space Dragon Race began boarding actions, attempting to stop them.

Matthias heard the thud of heavy objects landing on the hull above. Drawing his Knight’s Broadsword, he said coldly, "Everyone, prepare for contact."

「Meanwhile.」

Reinhardt used the initial momentum from the Punisher’s flight, propelling himself with a stream of high-temperature energy to leap from one attacking Space Dragon Race battleship to the next.

Boarding.

Slaughtering.

Then on to the next.

His recently cleaned Power Armor was once again splattered with blood. Tiny droplets were whipped away by the high-altitude winds, peeling off his armor’s surface like rain.

In just two minutes, Reinhardt had already destroyed seven Space Dragon Race vessels.

Gripping his War Axe in his right hand and the corpse of a Space Dragon Race Elemental Master in his left, he watched as an interweaving blur of clouds and thick smoke flashed past his vision.

He stood atop the plunging, out-of-control vessel and looked up. Not far away, four Space Aliens on miniaturized boarding craft were charging toward the Punisher.

He used Telepathy.

’Agate, prepare to decelerate.’

Then, his massive form, propelled by the stream of high-temperature energy, vaulted rapidly toward the Punisher.

From the Vengeance Angel Squad’s perspective, the Space Dragon Race’s relentless pursuit and blockade was suffocating. But from the Space Dragon Race’s perspective, the terrifying combat prowess of these Imperial Humans had plunged their barge’s command headquarters into a prolonged silence.

At that moment, aboard the Space Dragon Race barge docked in low Kemola orbit, the Dragon Race Prophet in charge of the interception wore a terrifyingly grim expression. Elemental Flames flickered with every breath from his nostrils.

He watched helplessly on the star chart as the signals from his interceptors blinked out one by one, while the Imperial Human Race ship drew ever closer to the still-unsealed low-orbit Orbital Port.

His subordinates stood before the command star chart, their expressions grim and silent.

Initially, they had assumed the Imperial Humans on Kemola were just an ordinary exploration team. As a result, their strategic planning hadn’t taken Reinhardt and his squad seriously at all.

That was, until they lost seven Pure-blood Centurions and two Elemental Dominators.

The losses to their infantry and Elemental Master Battle Groups were even more catastrophic.

Only then had he relayed the presence of these Imperial Humans to the headquarters on the Gamu Flagship.

To Reinhardt, it may have been just another casual slaughter of some Space Aliens, but to the Space Dragon Race, every one of those Pure-blood Centurions was a Legion elite.

They were equivalent to the Master Level experts of the Emperor Shield Battle Group.

Losing even one would have been a great loss to the fleet, let alone seven at once.

If he allowed these Imperial Humans to escape now, the Dragon Race Prophet couldn’t even imagine what severe punishment awaited him when he reported to the flagship.

But looking at it another way, these Imperial Humans on Kemola, who had inflicted such massive losses on his army with a squad of only six, had to be an exceptionally valuable elite unit.

As long as he prevented the Imperial Knights’ ship from escaping, he would have a solid justification to present to the flagship.

"Where is Centurion Kerks?! Hasn’t he arrived yet?!"

Facing the Prophet’s fury, a subordinate replied quietly, "The Teleportation Waymark takes time to activate. We estimate Lord Kerks can return to the barge in two minutes."

"Two minutes?! In two more minutes, those hairless monkeys will be flying into the Orbital Port! Bastards—!"

The Dragon Race Prophet glared at the star chart in impotent fury. He slammed a fist on the edge of the command console and roared, "At all costs! Even if you have to pull ships from other sectors, you must intercept them!"

His subordinate wanted to point out that resisting the Demon Legion’s assault and maintaining the low-orbit blockade had already stretched their forces to the limit. If they diverted ships, it was highly likely the blockaded orbital paths would fall into the hands of the Void Demons.

But faced with his superior’s rage, he could only swallow his words.

’Still, he was astounded. What were the origins of these Imperial Humans on Kemola? How could the combat power of just six individuals pressure the entire Zaro Battle Group to the point of suffocation, even forcing them to call for reinforcements?’

’From what he knew of Imperial Humans...’

’...Imperial Knights with this level of combat power were, without exception, the absolute elite of the major Legions.’

’If they could be captured, it wouldn’t just solve the problem of reporting to the Gamu Flagship—it could even lead to significant military honors and rewards.’

...

「Twelve minutes before the complete blockade of Kemola’s orbit.」

The Punisher.

Space Dragon Race warriors were continuously boarding the ship’s hull, but the weaker ones would lose consciousness the moment they touched Raphael’s Mental Power, their bodies going rigid as if electrocuted before plummeting from the sky.

The dense cannon fire from distant ships showed no regard for their allies currently engaged in the boarding action. It was clear they intended to stop the Punisher within Kemola’s atmosphere at any cost.

Faced with an increasingly frenzied enemy, even with Agate’s neural piloting, it was impossible to evade everything. Amidst hundreds of intercepting ships and a baptism of cannon fire as dense as a rainstorm, a shell finally struck the Punisher.

The shudder of the damaged Energy Shield sent the Punisher into a wild, uncontrollable lurch high in the sky.

Between the Space Dragon Race on their miniaturized boarding craft, the boarders on the hull, and the ships attacking from afar, the strain was finally too much for Raphael’s mortal body to bear.

As a Mind Storm roared to life behind him, blood streamed from his nose and mouth, his face twisting into a grimace.

"Agate! How far to the Orbital Port!"

BOOM—!

The thunderous impact of another shell hitting the Punisher drowned out Raphael’s voice.

Monstrous flames surged across the hull.

’If we meet no further resistance, eight minutes at the earliest.’

Agate’s voice, delivered via Telepathy, was cold and cruel.

The other three inside the ship, Irenia included, fixed their gazes on the holographic display before the Punisher’s console.

On it, they watched as they flew past falling ship wreckage and broke through the cloud layer.

Farther out, in the depths of space, the war between the Space Dragon Race and the Demon Legion still raged. And like a celestial curtain, a ghostly blue Energy Barrier was steadily enveloping the surface of Kemola Planet.

The last, tiny gap was closing like a healing wound as the Energy Barrier continued to spread.