I Really Didn't Mean To Be The Saviour Of The World - Chapter 563
Chapter 563: Chapter 367: Ultimate Weapon_3
In any case, the situation was still under control.
His speed continued to increase.
One-sixth the speed of light.
One-fifth.
One-third.
Half the speed of light!
Just as Harrison Clark’s brain was about to carbonize, he burst out!
Wait…
He turned his head abruptly, only to find that things were not as he thought.
He hadn’t actually escaped successfully.
Instead, two massive Galaxy Warrior shields had appeared and returned, blocking the direct line between him and the explosion center.
The codenames behind those two Galaxy Warrior shields were PF-00002 and PF-00098 respectively.
They were Oliver Yeoman and Marthus.
These two fools.
“Fuck! You guys retreat!”
While giving the order, Harrison continued to fly further away.
He couldn’t turn back; if he burned for even one more millisecond, he would be done for.
Harrison finally stopped at a position thirty thousand kilometers away from the explosion point, and was surrounded and protected by other Galaxy Warriors. Battlefield medical equipment quickly caught up and separated him from his equipment.
With only his eyelids able to move, Harrison glanced at the roster of his Caudron Army Corps.
Oliver Yeoman and Marthus’ names had turned gray and had been automatically transferred from the active roster to the martyrs’ list.
Harrison sighed.
At the beginning, he had been too aggressive in covering his comrades’ advance, and the extra ten thousand bombs had become the last straw that broke the camel’s back.
If it hadn’t been for this extra ten thousand, he would have been safe, and Marthus and Oliver Yeoman wouldn’t have had to cover the rear.
But if he hadn’t been so aggressive at the time, a hundred more comrades might have been sacrificed along the way, including Marthus and Oliver Yeoman.
On the other hand, the area where Needham Brown was situated also began to explode, slightly less powerful than his.
Almost simultaneously, deep in explosion point A, a second “bubble” suddenly appeared.
The bubble was as black as ink.
The Black Hole Bomb had also exploded.
At the same time, the Particle-interference Bombs at points B and C also detonated one after another.
Then, the Black Hole Bomb on Needham Brown’s side also successfully detonated.
Five minutes later, the White Giant Cocoon was riddled with holes, the Frozen Space was broken, and humanity had once again regained full firepower suppression.
The Spherical Battleships inside were no longer intact, covered in dents and holes.
Harrison, who was undergoing treatment, checked the list.
Levi Martin, Vincent Doyle, Poly Lewis and her spouse, and other elite fighters, all perished.
Of the ten thousand absolute elite who had accompanied him on the mission, less than six thousand had safely returned.
No one blamed him because he had succeeded.
But Harrison didn’t dare celebrate, “Inject me with a rapid recovery agent and bring me my backup Battle Armor.”
The medical officer opposed, “General Clark, this drug has side effects. It can only maintain your mobility for a few hours, and then you won’t be able to recover for several months.”
Harrison shook his head.
He looked determinedly at the latest intelligence provided by Star.
In the intelligence image was an eggshell with its upper half shattered.
A fifty-five meter tall “insect” stood in the eggshell.
Its slender body had a triangular head, two wings on its back, and a pair of folded arms, each eighty meters long.
“New type of soldier. Tentatively named: Blade Mantis. Performance: Unknown. Means of damage: Unknown. Mobility: Unknown. Energy reaction intensity: 10,000 Dyson Index (equivalent to the energy of 100 large Fortress Ships at work simultaneously). Quantity: 20.”
“The original quantity was 40, twenty of which were devoured by two Black Hole Bombs.”
Harrison smiled.
His smile was both joyful and miserable.
A fifty-five-meter-long creature, yet with an energy reaction comparable to a hundred Fortress Ships.
This was simply unreasonable.
How could such a colossal amount of energy be compressed into a mere 55-meter-long body?
There was only one explanation.
The Compound-Eyed Observer’s ultimate weapon, their final trump card, had arrived.
Nora Camp sent him a message, “Harrison, how are you recovering? Martha Owen just modified your backup Battle Armor, increasing the command acceptance speed by 30%.”
Harrison nodded, “I’m fine.”
“Can you go?”
“Of course, it’s my duty.”
“Can you survive?”
Harrison smiled proudly.
“I don’t know. I’ll do my best.”
