Wow! The item-dropping rate is really high! Chapter 1079 - 733: Hold the Line! (Part 2)

Further devastating tidings emerged.

The forward command post of the Star Alliance Joint Command on Jade Stone Star, which had maintained sporadic communication with the Thorny Bird and overseen planetary defense, broadcast a directive—

It was not sent to New Bauhinia, but declared publicly:

"Attention all combat units on Jade Stone Star: Given the escalating ground assault by the Bug Race, the steadily increasing threat posed by the primary hive, and the critically delayed global evacuation efforts, the Star Alliance Joint Command hereby orders all structurally sound combat units, including the main forces of the Planet Defense Army, the Star Alliance Marine Corps, and all participating task forces, to immediately implement the 'Dawn' evacuation plan. Converge on the designated 'Beacon' spaceport area to prepare for systematic withdrawal from Jade Stone Star. This is a repeat order: immediately converge on the 'Beacon' area and prepare for evacuation! This directive carries the highest priority!"

This pronouncement struck the hearts of all civilians desperately clinging to survival on the surface like a shard of ice.

The message also infiltrated the ears of the New Bauhinia squad members engaged in combat across various sectors, delivered via the public broadcast channel.

...

Within the central plains of Jade Stone Star, near the fringe of a once-thriving town now largely reduced to rubble, stood a makeshift refuge cobbled together from shattered walls and discarded machinery.

Engineer Leon, embracing his seven-year-old daughter, huddled in the confines of a partially collapsed cellar.

The space was packed with civilians like himself, with nowhere else to seek refuge—individuals of all ages, gaunt and pallid, their eyes reflecting either sheer terror or a vacant numbness.

The cacophony from outside consisted of perpetual explosions, the horrifying screeches of the Bug Race, and… the increasingly infrequent crackle of human gunfire.

The chilling, standardized evacuation order echoed from the public channel.

"...All combat units that remain structurally intact… immediately converge on the 'Beacon' area… prepare for the final wave of evacuation..."

"Dad… are those soldier uncles… leaving?" the girl inquired timidly, lifting her smudged face.

Leon's throat constricted; words failed him.

What solace could he offer?

Should he confess that the Star Alliance forces, their very planetary defense, were poised to desert them?

Should he admit that the exalted leaders deemed individuals like them expendable, prioritizing the preservation of valuable combat assets elsewhere?

Desperate sobs and furious curses erupted within the confines of the cellar.

"Scoundrels! They're just abandoning us like this?!"

"What about the taxes we paid? What about the army we funded?!"

"The Star Alliance… didn't the Star Alliance pledge to safeguard all humanity?!"

"It's over… everything is over… we've been forsaken…"

A wave of despair, cold and immense, washed over everyone trapped in the cellar.

The Order, the promised protection, the resplendent ideals of civilization they had so staunchly believed in, now appeared utterly hollow and deceitful in this dire moment.

Unseen shadows descended upon their spirits… and a more profound darkness seemed to stir within these encroaching shadows.

Yet, at that precise instant, distinct thuds of metal and the explosive bursts of energy weaponry—sounds markedly different from the Bug Race's shrieks—resounded from above the cellar.

Swiftly thereafter, the sharp, final cries of Bug Race entities pierced the air.

The rubble sealing the cellar entrance was violently flung aside by an unseen force, allowing blinding daylight to flood in.

A towering humanoid Mecha, adorned in a deep-sea camouflage livery, its chassis marred by grime and the undeniable scars of battle, knelt at the opening. Its optical sensors scanned the terrified occupants within, and a clear, albeit slightly gravelly, female voice emanated from its external speaker:

"Everyone inside! If you are able to move, gather the children and the wounded and come with me! Hurry! Our time is limited!"

It was those unfamiliar Mecha!

In the preceding days, these Mecha had been sighted sporadically around the town's periphery. They appeared and vanished like phantoms, materializing during the most perilous moments to repel the Bug Race onslaught, only to withdraw hastily once more.

Scattered whispers regarding these "outsider Mecha" had circulated throughout the town, alleging they were not affiliated with the Jade Stone Star Planet Defense Army and did not operate under the full command of the Star Alliance; they were purportedly just a squad caught on a mission in the vicinity.

Leon gazed, transfixed, at the colossal steel figure framed in the entrance.

Its chassis bore the distinct marks of combat, and a gaping rupture in the armor of its left arm revealed arcing electrical discharges within.

Despite this damage, it remained present, extending a mechanical hand in their hour of deepest despair, at a moment when all others had turned their backs.

"Move! What are you spacing out for? If you want to live, get out here!" Rose urged from within the Mecha, her hands warily maneuvering the machine's torso as the high-frequency blade was aimed at another Bug Race squad approaching in the distance.

The occupants of the cellar seemed to be jolted from a stupor, scrambling out onto their hands and knees.

Leon scooped up his daughter and joined the stream of people, stumbling along a hastily cleared path outside the town, all under the vigilant watch of the Mecha.

He observed Mechas with similar paint schemes actively engaged in fighting and assisting civilians in other parts of the town.

Though few in number, they shone like isolated lamps in the profound darkness, tenaciously illuminating a path for as many individuals as possible to escape with their lives.

They had been forsaken by their own nation, abandoned by the Star Alliance coalition.

Even they had started to falter in their resolve…

Yet, it seemed this contingent of foreign warriors remained steadfast, refusing to yield.

...

Aisera V, a jungle planet designated with the codename "Green Abyss."

A small contingent from the Holy Silver Church Country had established a strongpoint within an ancient megalithic fortress, locked in a desperate struggle against Orcs, who vastly outnumbered them, their roars of "WAAAGH!!!" echoing.

Power Swords clashed against crude metal plates, sending sparks flying, while the thunderous reports of Blast Bomb Guns mingled with the incessant fire from the Orcs' crudely constructed "dakka" guns.

Captain "Holy Hammer" Renado's armor was streaked with blood, and the comms channel buzzed with the strained breaths and fierce battle cries of his subordinates.

"For humanity! We must hold the line! The assault from these green-skinned mongrels is faltering!" Renado rallied their spirits, his Power Hammer smashing down to crush an Orc youth's skull.

However, in the very next moment, the battlefield's dynamics shifted in a way that left every member of the "Green Abyss" squad utterly bewildered.

Emerging from behind the Orc horde was a colossal Orc, unlike any they had encountered before, charging forward at full speed atop a monstrous mount, its bellowing cry of "waaaaagh!" filling the air.

Suddenly, those Orcs, who mere heartbeats earlier had been charging with frenzy, brandishing crude cleavers and guns while howling, appeared to receive an inescapable directive.

Their frenzied advance halted abruptly.

All Orcs, regardless of size, lifted their heads in unison to gaze at the ashen sky, a deep, resonant roar welling from their throats—its meaning obscure, yet imbued with a fanatical, reverent fervor: "waaaagh!!!"

Next, under the astonished watch of the human defenders, these Orcs completely disregarded their immediate adversaries and began to retreat like a receding tide!

This was not a panicked rout, but a deliberate surge towards the planet's colossal "garbage mountains," emitting thick plumes of black smoke, piled high with diverse scrap materials and peculiar contraptions—

These were the locations identified by Star Alliance intelligence as "suspected Orc junk-construction yards."

The very ground began to tremble violently.

Those strange, "hand-built contraptions," crudely assembled from scrap iron, rock, and even derelict starship wreckage, taking on forms that defied conventional engineering principles, detached themselves from the planet's gravitational pull amid deafening thunder and billowing black smoke, clumsily ascending into the sky!

One, two, ten… dozens of Orc "Warships" of varying dimensions, all appearing battered and worn, their hulls adorned with menacing graffiti, ascended through the atmosphere like a sun-obscuring swarm of locusts.

Once in orbit, they coalesced into a chaotic torrent, and then… their engines unleashed plumes of exhaust in a spectrum of colors, their course set directly for Jade Stone Star!

"By the gods… they… they actually flew away?" a Holy Silver Warrior stammered, nearly neglecting to deliver a final blow.

"They're heading for… Jade Stone Star? What is their objective?!" Captain Renado’s gaze fixed on the vanishing point of the Orc fleet, his brow furrowed beneath his helmet as an icy dread crept up his spine.

That gargantuan Orc that had just materialized—the one they had never seen before—where had it originated from?

...

Concurrently, the atmosphere within the coalition Warship's bridge had become so oppressive it felt tangible.