Chapter 180 The Battle of Forun (Part 1)
The Mother of Tears was the first to leap out of subspace.
It breaks into the silent real space, as if falling on black ice.
The deceleration thrusters are ignited on the battlement turrets on its bow and central ridge. The surging energy is generated on its dented armor due to the interaction between unreality and real space. The stern of the ship crackled, creating a halo of light for the huge statue that stood on the church on the back of the ship. It was Sanguinius with his sword raised high and his wings spread.
The rest of the fleet followed within moments.
The physical universe burst into flames when the real space split apart, and a jet-black battleship several kilometers long squeezed out from the other side.
The flames flickered on the scar and jumped on the detached battleship, before the pressure of real space finally extinguished it.
In the silence of space, it is like a precise and beautiful ballet.
The bridge of the Mother of Tears is like a huge auditorium.
Malakin looked at the data and tightened his jaw.
He knew that this was the most dangerous moment, those few seconds between the collapse of the Geller field and the ship's complete emergence from the warp.
The stressed hull shuddered and groaned, the heavy transverse frame spanning the bridge screamed due to the twisting pressure and burning engines, and the uniformed crew members shouted loudly for the control of each major system. Status report.
"All ships have successfully escaped from the subspace."
The Tech-Priest in charge of the bridge announced in a mechanical voice.
“A perfect transfer.”
"Give me a visual picture."
Malakin said in a deep voice.
Then, the eye-shaped screen flashed out, and at the same time, the heavy plastic steel sunshade covering the compartment window was slowly rolled up.
A flash of yellow light from a nearby star swept away the crimson streaks of the emergency lights, and the other crew members on the bridge grunted in pain, covering their eyes or looking away until they vision can be adapted.
"Are we at the specified coordinates?"
Malakin sat on a throne made of obsidian and metal, juxtaposed with the command podium on a separate platform, ensuring that the man sitting on it could oversee the entire bridge.
"The coordinate error is 5%."
The technical priest hissed, without looking up from the screen.
"Confirmed."
Malakin analyzed the preliminary reports, his genetically enhanced nerves processing the output far faster than his crew or cogitators.
Then, the Watcher of the Abyss leaned forward on his throne.
He saw the wreckage of the patrol fleet. Although this was not a deliberate arrangement, all patrol fleets dispatched had the same responsibilities - although the direction of the enemy's appearance could be inferred, this was still A huge range requires some sentries who can be sacrificed at any time, some people who can issue early warning and delay the enemy's footsteps.
Because the main fleet must lurk in the waves, waiting for the cunning beast to be completely trapped.
Although the sacrifices of these people have their own value, this fact is still like a sharp knife stabbing into his heart, torturing his conscience in agony.
“Go and kill them all.”
Malakin squeezed out these words through his teeth.
“Kill without leaving a single piece of armor behind.”
When the Mother of Tears led more than thirty warships of various types towards the surprised greenskin fleet, on the other side of the battlefield In both directions, the subspace also reacted simultaneously.
Later, the pitch-black Evernight jumped out of the night sky behind the greenskin fleet. Then there is an entire fleet, including the expeditionary force’s naval flagship, the Apocalypse-class battleship named Fire of Punishment—this is a ship with a huge projection capacity, used to pour data on targets at extremely long distances. With millions of metric tons of ammunition, it also has solid hull armor and void shields, which can absorb most of the damage caused by the enemy.
Responsible for the left wing of the fleet is a large Exorcist-class cruiser named Deathbringer, which is a fleet carrier escorted by Cobra and Firestorm-class frigates.
It can be expected that it will keep its distance, position itself at the far end of the battle line, and then release those deadly weapons in the flight deck-all types of fighters and bombers are ready and ready to enter the battle to destroy the enemy.
"The enemy is turning."
The bridge of the Evernight was busy, and the officer in charge of the large apocalypse array was the first to make a high-pitched voice.
“Don’t worry, keep up the speed.”
Mazar, who was sitting high on the command throne, said solemnly and looked at the holographic graphics floating in the air. It analyzed the original divination readings such as tonnage, armament, energy generation and hull thickness into understandable, color-condensed information packages.
“Order the Deathbringer to break away from the formation and turn to starboard, let the escort slow down to one tenth and prepare the torpedoes.”
Dozens of light spots are scattered on the horizontal plane in the void on board, then the frigates and cruisers launched their first torpedo salvos.
Dense trails were drawn in the void, like countless spears.
"Engine power reaches 75%!"
"The Void Shield Group is fully charged!"
"The point defense system is ready!"
"The external hull area is closed!"
"We are entering the light spear Range, my lord."
The technical priest who was tinkering on the console turned his head and shouted over his shoulder.
"You can attack at any time."
"Adjust the course to intercept."
Lord Magyar stood up.
"The enemy must turn to face us, otherwise we will pierce our spear into their belly."
Just as Magyar said, the green-skinned fleet really began to turn, and the big Some ships began to turn around to attack the enemy behind them, and their formations were also rapidly changing.
It can be seen that the execution ability of these green skins is much stronger than that of most of their kind.
The red bows of these green warships are bloated and huge. The light from the reactors behind the portholes illuminates the surrounding debris. Their interference cannons are already at full fire.
Weapons of various calibers poured out ammunition like a storm, accompanied by continuous flashes of light, and explosions in the physical universe undulated.
The green-skinned fighter groups moved around the battlefield in larger formations.
They danced dexterously, with flames spitting out from the barrels under the fuselage, and threw a large number of bombs towards the enemy's void shields and armor, causing waves of impact.
From time to time, green-skinned fighter jets were hit by anti-aircraft fire. Some of them exploded like fireworks, and some trailed smoke and crashed directly into human warships.
Faced with the harassment of green-skinned fighter jets, the furious human fighter jets swarmed out from the flight decks of each warship, fighting fiercely with the green-skinned fighter jets in the void, shooting at each other at close range, entangled.
The battle soon became intense.
Laser firefights came and went like a web, flowers exploded and bloomed, and burning turrets broke and fell from time to time. It seemed that every cubic meter of space in this galaxy was filled with the smoke and dust of war.
(End of this chapter)