The hivemind is conquering for me? Chapter 760: Step 5: Tactical Withdrawal

I slammed into the wall below, ignoring any concerns about its stability. Sithrik bled from several gashes across her body, while Nerissa's armor had finally suffered some harm.

I understood why these two remained the final ones on the wall, and I'd get sentimental about it afterward, but right now, I seized Nerissa by the waist and desperately unleashed my Telekinesis to haul Sithrik toward me, causing an attack to narrowly miss her.

With both securely in my hold, I leaped from the wall and plunged into the river, covering two-thirds of its width in a single bound.

We swam the remaining distance, enduring constant enemy fire. Once on solid ground, I bent over briefly to regain my breath before letting out a chuckle. "Hey Ness, I have not seen your armour this damaged before. I don’t know if I should kiss you or slap you silly for staying behind for me."

"No time for talk. The others won’t be that far ahead of us. We need to act as a rear guard as the Drakoshi will come for us." She then summoned another Deimos rifle, one I recognized immediately. It was mine, left at Sophia’s since carrying it openly would invite trouble. But now...

I fired while we pulled back. Soon, a pack of Drakoshi emerged from hiding and gave chase on foot. Nerissa and I kept running and shooting nonstop, but Sithrik contributed little, so I directed her.

"Sithrik, go ahead to the others. Tell them we are out."

"Yez, husband!" She replied instantly, her serpentine form rocketing forward like a torpedo.

Nerissa and I kept blasting away until, amid the gunfire, I caught her snickering. Glancing at her between shots, I demanded, "What are you laughing at in a time like this?"

"She, hehe, she called you husband and you didn’t correct her. You have a snake for a wife."

I shot back the first retort that hit me, lacking her casual ease since I was badly hurt. "Keep laughing like that and I’ll have a Nymph wife next. Just keep firing!"

...

Over the following miles, Nerissa and I got fortunate. Faster than our pursuers and facing foes without ranged arms, we stayed ahead while dealing heavy losses.

A couple of lightly armored vehicles closed in, but my Minigun shredded them up close, and we mopped up the remnants effortlessly.

Yet thousands more trailed us, eager for battle. A ridge loomed ahead—the fallback spot. They craved a clash; they'd have it. Reaching the ridge's crest, we faced the Drakoshi, defending as long as we could. When my rifle emptied, I skipped asking Ness for more ammo and switched to my minigun, unleashing into the gray horde.

Déjà vu hit hard from their swarming rush, though these gray brutes paled against my hive's elegance. Even so, Nerissa and I fulfilled our role. As Drakoshi tightened their grip, we dove behind the ridge and fled at max speed.

...

The Emoth Drakoshi, sneering at the feeble fighter who'd fallen to the red laser rifle, surged ahead toward the armored foes. He'd crest the ridge first and slay them. He only needed to reach the summit. And he did.

Then his tiny eyes shrank to pinpoints at the sight. Two massive Chassis and a miniature army aimed straight at him. Stifling terror, he bellowed a battle roar, hefted his axe, and lunged forward before

*Buoooom*

...

The castellans unleashed devastating yellow laser beams, vaporizing the ridge's top in a wide sweep. Given the gentle slope beyond, likely thousands of Drakoshi vanished too.

The beams raged for thirty straight seconds until overheating, then the castellans launched standard missiles over the ridge.

The Drakoshi pressed on undaunted. Once the death rays stopped, survivors swarmed the diminished ridge.

At the knight line, Knight Captain Cassian the Bold thrust his sword skyward from his mech and boomed through speakers.

"Brothers and sisters! Now is our time! Our Psionic brethren have achieved the impossible and now the foolish grey rats come blindly to their end! Show them that we too can achieve victory this day! Pages earn your merits! Squires Prove to your superiors that your long years of training and devotion to our order has paid off! Prove you have what it takes to ascend and become one of the glorious! Knights of the Order of the guardians! We kill these grey skins and show them we feel no fear! Fire!"

A thunderous war cry erupted from the knights, swiftly chased by a hail of bullets. Two hundred infantry, a knight company with heavy arms, and two castellans blasting 'smaller' weapons from every angle made a stunning spectacle as Nerissa and I dashed to link up.

Upon arrival, we spun around. Drakoshi already crammed the terrain's base, forced to climb another slope under a storm of lead. Awe tempted me, but Nerissa conjured Deimos ammo stacks, passed them over, and I resumed pouring destruction on the Drakoshi.

...

Post-war cry, the knight order fell deathly quiet. Only agonized screams pierced the air as stray Drakoshi with ranged shots fired at the lines—muzzle flashes swiftly punished by knight mech autocannons.

They retreated subtly, advancing distance without seeming to. Each volley was followed by two backward steps and a crouch for the next burst.

Still, endless separation proved impossible, prompting a knight squad and the captain to surge ahead.

The knights wielded their mechs like extensions of themselves, slicing through Drakoshi while shielding flanks—a breathtaking display that fired my veins.

Armor unrestored, I handed my rifle and ammo to the nearby Squire I'd fought beside for twenty minutes and charged. Others followed suit; melee experts broke ranks after me, and soon we smashed into the Drakoshi vanguard.

The hour-long melee turned savage. Already battered and spent from prior retreat, I battled on adrenaline and grit alone. Pure instinct ruled: lure strikes, parry, dodge, then counter or let allies exploit enemy overreach. Fighters everywhere racked up grievous wounds.

Strength matters little against sheer numbers—that's hive basics. Yet we pressed on. No excess noise, just effort grunts and pain cries. Gunfire faded to battlefield drone. Drakoshi reinforcements flooded in by the tens of thousands, via low flight or vehicles, hauling ammo that intensified the toll.

Drakoshi momentum shifted, flanking our melee and lunging at the gun line. But we'd bought enough space through the grueling fight.

"Charge! For Spartari!"

Phalanx infantry, heavy tanks, and vehicles thundered over nearby hills, bayonets affixed, guns blazing mid-sprint.

They crashed into Drakoshi lines in frenzy; the ensuing carnage was... gruesome. Phalanx were beasts. Lyssa-fueled berserkers frothed at the front, dominating utterly.

One clubbed away mangled, three instantly replaced him. Bayonets thrusting, they fired point-blank, toppling beasts before being crushed and hacked by the next wave. Such relentless scenes repeated, devoid of any fear.

Thus, the battle flipped from structured order to utter bloody mayhem in seconds.