Super Mothership
“Your Excellency, you’re far too polite. We’re all allies here—helping each other in the face of the enemy is only natural!”
Nie Yun waved his hand righteously, then sighed with a look of regret.
“It’s just a pity. My Sea Storm–class mecha was already secondhand, and its performance isn’t all that stable. Otherwise, that enemy would never have escaped. If not for that, I might’ve been able to save more of our comrades… sigh…”
Not strong enough—can’t save the world, huh…
Seeing Nie Yun act like this, the Peacock Man couldn’t quite figure out what the other was really getting at.
But clearly, the guy was deliberately avoiding any mention of that pilot.
Apparently, he didn’t want him getting in touch with that person. Afraid someone might try to poach his talent, maybe?
Hmph! That must be it!
Thinking that, the Peacock Man gritted his teeth. You can’t catch a wolf without risking the lamb!
“Lord Arthas, our fleet took heavy losses this time. We’ll probably need some time to recover and replenish our forces, so there won’t be any combat missions for a while.
They say a fine sword deserves a worthy hero, so—how about this? I’d like to gift the Sea Storm–class under my command to that pilot, as a token of gratitude from all my officers!
It’s about ninety percent new, but I guarantee it’s still in peak condition!”
He wasn’t lying—his fleet really would be in the rear for at least a month to recuperate.
Still, parting with such a valuable mecha made his heart ache a bit. Even a corps commander would need to spend a ton of military merit to requisition another one.
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly accept that,” Nie Yun said with mock modesty.
“What’s there to be modest about? A life-saving debt must be repaid! If you refuse, that means you’re looking down on me—on the whole Lei family!”
The Peacock Man’s face screamed ‘Refuse me and I’ll flip this table.’
At the same time, he shot Nie Yun a scornful look—I’m giving a mecha to my savior, what are you even embarrassed about?!
“Well… alright then! I’ll accept it gratefully—thank you, Brother Feng!” Nie Yun said, pretending he couldn’t turn it down.
Brother Feng? What the heck?
Wait—who asked you to thank me? Bring out that pilot already!
“Lord Arthas, may I ask where the pilot of that Sea Storm–class is?” the Peacock Man pressed, reminding him again.
You can’t just hand over a mecha and not even let me meet the guy, right?
“Eh? Didn’t Your Excellency catch on? That brave, skilled, and heroic pilot who saved you just now—the one flying unit number 837746—that was me.”
Peacock Man: “…”
——
“The command center just sent a message—there’ll be a senior officers’ meeting in ten minutes. Please get ready to join via the remote conference room,” Catherine reported, struggling to hold back her laughter.
“Got it.” Nie Yun nodded, rising from the bridge with a satisfied smile.
A mere Sea Storm–class mecha no longer held any devouring value for him, but for his Third Subfleet, it was a rare piece of “high-end firepower.”
Thanks to the replication ability of his mechanical bugs, Nie Yun could, with some time, replace all the standard mechas in his fleet with advanced ones—but their origin would be hard to explain.
Since he couldn’t reveal his real combat assets, strengthening this “spy fleet’s” surface-level combat strength to make its battlefield survival more “plausible” was both logical and necessary.
Judging by Wolf’s combat style, the enemy fleet’s ships were mediocre, but their mecha units were formidable.
In such a scenario, a single high-end mecha paired with a skilled pilot could make a tremendous difference in protecting the fleet—giving Nie Yun plenty of room to maneuver.
And as Nie Yun departed to attend the postwar meeting of the Gemini system, on the other side of the wormhole…
The battlefield on Wolf civilization’s side was likewise a scene of utter devastation.
Though they had managed to repel the Gemini system’s surprise attack this time, the sudden assault wasn’t a complete failure—at the very least, most of the defensive facilities near the wormhole had been destroyed by the enemy fleet’s overwhelming firepower.
In fact, during the initial stage of Gemini’s counterattack through the wormhole, their superior firepower caught the Wolf civilization completely off guard.
Unfortunately for Gemini, they weren’t the only ones planning a large-scale ambush. By sheer coincidence, the Wolf civilization had come up with the very same idea…
As a result, the large force they had secretly assembled in the rear was immediately thrown into battle!
What followed was a brutal engagement where both sides clashed head-on and bled heavily.
In the end, however, the Wolf civilization—fighting on home ground—proved slightly superior. Once both fleets got entangled in close combat, Wolf’s elite aerial mecha units concentrated their assault and broke through Gemini’s front lines, shattering their formation in short order!
What came next was an unexpected pursuit operation—the flames of battle even spilled through to the other side of the wormhole…
At this moment, the fighting had ended. The victorious Wolf civilization was now tending to its wounds, with countless warships sweeping the battlefield and retrieving their scattered units.
Wave after wave of bronze-class mechas limped back from the front, some lightly damaged, others battered beyond recognition. The rows of repair hangars bustled with frantic activity.
Boom!
A heavily damaged bronze mecha—both arms blown clean off—landed awkwardly on one knee, barely managing to come to a halt.
Even on a battlefield as cruel as this, such damage was severe enough to draw attention. Many glanced over, some in shock, others in awe—at this poor bastard… or perhaps, this lucky survivor.
To make it back alive in that state—what else could that be but sheer luck?
Hiss— The cockpit hatch slid open, revealing a rugged face.
Light gray, stone-like skin. A lion’s nose, beastlike eyes—and two scars on the right cheek, crossing into an “X.”
Finally… made it back.
Though Spartacus had survived worse wounds over the course of his military career, never before had he felt such a sense of danger. The enemy mecha that had nearly killed him—like some kind of demon lord—was beyond anything he’d ever faced!
Thankfully, the goddess of luck had smiled upon him—he’d managed to keep his life.
Spartacus, of the Ryan people—a Bronze Warrior serving under the Wolf civilization’s No.9 vassal race.
Within the Wolf civilization’s rigid hierarchy, vassal species existed for one reason only: to provide a constant supply of elite soldiers. Spartacus was one of the rare few fortunate enough to rise among them.
Yes—fortunate.
Compared to his fellow Ryan, most of whom were doomed to serve as expendable foot soldiers, Spartacus’s promotion to Bronze Warrior status placed him among the Wolf civilization’s official combat ranks—an enviable position… even if it only made him a high-grade expendable.
Climbing out of his mecha, Spartacus was immediately surrounded by several Ryan attendants who hurried forward to help remove his protective gear.
Even as a “high-grade expendable,” Spartacus enjoyed considerable privileges. His position granted his home settlement greater resources, lower taxes, and—much like a medieval knight—he was even entitled to his own battle attendants.
“Lord Spartacus! Are you alright?” asked the lead attendant, nervously eyeing the wrecked mecha.
They were attendants chosen personally from Spartacus’s homeland. If anything were to happen to him, they’d be sent back—facing not punishment, but something far worse: the disappointed gazes of their entire tribe.
“I’m fine. Just ran into one of the enemy’s elites. Chrisis and the others… didn’t make it.” Spartacus’s tone was calm, emotionless.
Years of war had numbed him to the deaths of comrades.
“Hm? Where’s Sulla?” Scanning the gathered attendants, Spartacus suddenly noticed that the familiar feminine figure wasn’t among them. His brows furrowed in confusion.
“This…” The lead attendant’s face darkened, and he hesitated to answer.
Seeing that expression, Spartacus’s heart sank.
Bzzzt…
None of them noticed that, above their heads, the indicator light on the mecha’s head flickered faintly. Its internal sensor lens shifted ever so slightly—moving on its own—quietly recording everything happening around it…
TL Note- Spy?
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