Starting from the Planetary Governor - Chapter 1599 - 905: The Aftermath of the Holy Blood War

Chapter 1599: Chapter 905: The Aftermath of the Holy Blood War

The medical officer wearing a bird-beak mask is adjusting the infusion tube, the metallic prosthetic eye glowing red, “The Holy Blood Pharmacist has replaced your artificial circulation system—using living metal sent by the Alliance.”

Dante tried to raise his arm, discovering silver fluid flowing along his veins. This reminded him of the Fearful Dead technology he had seen four hundred years ago during the battle with the Space Undead, causing a metallic taste to rise in his throat: “Alien creation?”

“It’s the improved nano-medical unit.” Pharmacist Azriel lifted the tent flap and came in, his crimson cloak still bearing sulfur scorch marks, “Even though the priests of the Sect of Mechanics almost launched a holy war over this, one has to admit…” He shook the empty medicine bottle, “These supplies from the Gu Group have restored the battle group medicine stock from 3% to 17%.”

From outside the tent came the sound of tracks grinding over bone shards. Through the canvas gap, Dante could see rows of Leman Russ tanks pushing Insect Race corpses into the incinerators, the blue-purple smoke covering half the sky. He noticed that each tank turret was branded with the triple eagle emblem—the mark of the Planet Alliance.

“How much have we lost?” Dante’s voice sounded like sandpaper scraping against metal. As the medical officer began reporting the casualty numbers, he raised his hand to stop him, “Just tell me how many Angels can still stand.”

The bird-beak mask of the medical officer drooped down, “Counting the Blood Drinking Ghosts who woke yesterday… the Blood Knight Battle Group currently numbers 4,721. Those fit for battle…” The red glow of the prosthetic eye suddenly flashed urgently, “Less than three thousand.”

Suddenly, the tent flap was lifted, and the bandaged Holy Blood Guard rushed in: “Sir! The Steel Snake Battle Group is confronting the Alliance Officers again! They say…”

“Say we’ve allowed heretics onto our sacred ground?” Dante tore away the tubes from his body, the artificial lung leafs roaring like bellows. As he stood, everyone in the tent instinctively took half a step back—even though his severe injuries were not yet healed, the majesty of the founding Battle Group Leader was still as fierce as a furnace.

As he walked across the scorched earth of the camp, Dante’s boot occasionally stepped onto hardened artificial fungal mats. These Insect Race secretions glistened with a rainbow-colored oil sheen in the sunlight, reminding him of the Spirit Race’s Ark World he had purified three hundred years ago. In the distance, the hymn of the Sect of Mechanics and the buzzing of chain-saw swords could be heard, eight gold-painted Knight Mecha were clearing the battlefield, their ion cannon mouths still emitting smoke.

“The Alliance provided seventy thousand tons of purifying agent.” Said the accompanying technical sergeant, lifting his faceplate to reveal half his mechanical face, “But purifying the entire continent will take three months, orbital bombardment would be more…”

“Let the civilians return.” Dante stopped, looking at the collapsed dome of the Holy Blood Cathedral on the horizon. The towering spire reaching into the sky now only a half, with the broken section draped with some Insect Race secreted membranous flesh, like a desecrated burial shroud. “Tell Gu Hang, I want to see him before sunset.”

When Dante walked into the temporary command center, the holographic projector was replaying the final battle. On the screen, the blood-soaked Holy Blood Guard ignited the Whirlwind Torpedo buried deep within the planet’s crust, and the soaring pillar of fire simultaneously vaporized the Insect Nest Tyrant and half of the continent. He noticed the timestamp in the corner of the projection—that was the seventh day of his coma.

“Your armor.” The technical sergeant held a newly repaired Terminator Armor, “The alloy craftsmen of the Alliance recast the shoulder armor, but the Holy Blood Chalice relief…” The original position embedded with the initial Holy Artifact was now replaced by a flowing silver substance.

Dante touched the unfamiliar metallic surface and suddenly punched the armor. The living metal rippled like water, completely absorbing the impact. This reminded him of a certain long-extinct Alien race, but more terrifying was the realization that—the technology tree of the Alliance clearly exceeded the Empire’s conventional understanding.

When the setting sun cast the last light spots on the command center dome, Gu Hang’s shuttle landed on the scorched landing pad. Dante stood at the observation window, watching the dark-haired youth step out of the cabin. The Alliance Commander wore a gray robe without any emblems, but a lion-head sword symbolizing the Empire’s supreme power hung at his waist—reminding Dante of the Regent King’s portrait he had seen a hundred years ago.

“You shouldn’t have refused the stretcher.” Gu Hang’s voice came through the communicator, youthfully unsettling, “The Holy Blood Pharmacist said your regeneration system…”

“I’ve been on the Ulanuo Expedition.” Dante interrupted, deliberately letting the living metal gather into a claw shape in his palm, “When the Emperor still walked the earth.”

Their gazes collided mid-air. The golden glow in Gu Hang’s eyes reminded Dante of the light of the star beacon, while what the Alliance Commander saw was the ancient madness deeply embedded in the Blood Angel’s genes—the kind of soul fracture that even living metal could not fully repair.

When Dante finally walked into the conference room, twelve static field generators activated at the same time. Space-time froze instantly; he could see Gu Hang’s temples with white hair halting in the force field and could also see the data board sliding out of his sleeve—densely arrayed with the cultivation progress for five thousand Glory Seeds.