Chapter 382

Dieterian's built-in processor remembered karad's face, service records and every modification of his armor in the past 300 years.

"Thank you very much. Your information is very useful to improve the war situation, so where is the first fierce Talos?"

"The first fierce claw is defending the enemy in hall 1. What's the matter?"

"I have found and analyzed the defects in the function of the void shield. Now I need the captain's order and the guard to -"

Karad's voice link suddenly broke, then the sound scattered in a fierce howl, and then a heavy fall.

Dieterian was worried and realized that something was wrong.

"Karad? Karad of the sixth claw?"

Soon another voice took over.

"This is farovin, the sixth strong claw. We are retreating from the landing port! Anyone still panting in the stern area will assemble with us on the new black market."

"I was just talking to --"

"For the sake of the gods, shut up first, bishop! The sixth claw is retreating, and karad and yatus are down."

Another voice responded intermittently.

"Farovin, this is Xia Kurus. Confirm again whether karad has fallen."

"I saw it with my own eyes. These screaming alien bitches cut off his head."

Dieterian listened to the defense conversation of the Legion soldiers, and dieterian finally decided to solve the problem himself.

He crossed the chaotic deck through a concealed maintenance channel to reach the third damaged engine tower.

Nearly 500 meters away from the first one, it was like a pile of molten metal fragments, and the cracked fragments almost poked into the charred shell of the ship.

Because of the impact of enemy landing equipment, the hull of the ship under your feet is more like a melted steel desert.

For the first time in decades, dieterian had a similar feeling of despair. This emotion was too strong and abrupt. Back when he was an ordinary mechanical priest, this emotion may only come from his defective organs.

"Lakuna ebsoulutus."

He began to contact his assistant.

"My lord?"

"Take the last team of flight attendants to the last damaged spire. I'll deal with it myself."

Lakuna albusolutus stood next to his master, his own red hood shaking in the empty vacuum, his face with gutera chrome armor, expressionless, making it impossible to judge his thoughts.

His voice seemed to come from a coin sized sounder sewn in his throat.

"Yes, but how do you deal with this, my lord?"

Dieterian smiled because he always laughed, and his role in this event left him no other choice.

"You heard your mission. Let's go."

Suddenly, he shivered when he received the message from the cabin.

"No!"

The mechanical bishop finally lost control of his emotions and roared loudly.

"These dead M-shaped cheap animals!"

"My lord?"

"Damn it! The engine stopped.

"My Lord, and the void shield -"

A new voice came from the channel linked to him,

"-- decaying."

When dieterian was in trouble, the lower deck was even more restless.

The bloody eyed lukofus did not confine himself to the deck like his hunting herd.

Although he can't run as he used to, he is now more agile and amazing, completely like a four legged wild race.

His hands and feet beat the grill of the deck with an animal rhythm, like an ape, or a wolf, a warrior who has not been human for many years - but he never thanked the genetic transformation of the Empire and the subsequent upgrading of sub space.

Most of the soldiers of the eighth Legion believed that lukofus might have the strongest will to survive among his brothers. He refused to die for their cause and to hold his position in a hopeless battle, let alone that he was not suitable for fighting in an open place.

He is not going to die yet, so let his brothers embrace this senseless madness. He enjoys his life with an extremely rational criterion - although it is distorted.

So when he escaped from the battlefield, he was not ashamed.

Out of his urgent need for self-protection, the propeller on his back spewed a thin cold smoke.

The thrusters rumbled out flames very efficiently, pushing him into the air.

Now he only needs a jumping space to ambush on the dying curse echo, which is not a very righteous intention.

In the news, the first fierce claw was still scolding the birds of prey for their retreat.

"Let them complain."

Vorasha chuckled, and his laughter degenerated into a hiss of contempt.

Both of them were close to the ceiling when they fled. The others have been sharply reduced to the last in the past few months. The remaining most tenacious and ferocious bloody eye survivors ran away on the walls and gates.

The ship trembled again, and lukofus had to attach his limbs to a piece of metal to avoid being thrown off.

"No."

Suddenly, he stopped.

"Wait a minute."

The bloody eyes stopped synchronously, and the hunting group hung silently next to the leader: start a short meeting in a three-dimensional space.

Vorasha tilted his helmet and looked like a bird. Each of their demonic masks was sprayed with two lines of tears.

"What's the matter? What happened?"

"You go."

Lukofus gave his order with a scream of excitement.

"Retreat to hall 2 and reinforce the fourth strong claw."

Their muscles were strained by the instinct to obey orders.

"What about you?"

Vorasha asked back, but his leader only howled silently, like a scavenging crow, and then he turned to him on the way they came.

The bloody eyes looked at each other as their leader jumped into the corridor and ran down the ceiling.

Instinct drove them - the hunting herd either hunted side by side or did nothing.

"Go!"

Lukofus urged them on the channel.

In a silent silence, they reluctantly complied.

"Do it!"

Dieterian has never run himself at such a high speed, even if it is still a drag on his slow logical algorithm.

He has deployed four auxiliary arms to activate and stretch them from his back.

These arm based replicas, each holding square data blocks, integrate them into protective chains.

At the moment, the mechanical bishop cannot trust the speed and accuracy of the machine servants, driving them to more effectively assist in the maintenance here, which falls on dieterian's own shoulders.

The four slave workers responded to the slight movement of the data controller in his hand, and their convulsions and breathing were driven by his will.

During a period of pathological twitch common to lobotomizers, the servants lifted the main beam into position and fused it with welding rods, and then worked to rebuild the destroyed external power tower tip.