Chapter 4321 Orderly Retreat

Many events happened throughout this massive battle.

The first major collision between the Hexers and the Fridaymen produced countless victories and tragedies on the battlefield.

A lot of large hardware got pummeled until they no could no longer operate.

The invading side lost a notable amount of combat carriers and other starships. The damage would have been bigger if the Sundered Phalanx didn’t shift their focus to destroying their opposition’s combat mechs, but parties like the Larkinson Clan truly regretted the fact that they couldn’t field as many mechs as before.

The loss of mechs was considerably greater. The amount of mechs that got wrecked or torn to pieces were too many to count. An unimaginable amount of value disappeared in an instant.

Even the more powerful mechs that few people could ever imagine that they could break such as the Shield of Samar had met their end on the battlefield!

Fortunately, many broken mechs hadn’t fallen in such an abysmal state. There were still plenty of salvageable machines floating around in space that just needed a moderate fix in order to get working again.

Groups such as the Larkinson Clan had already marked them out for retrieval. Since the invading forces had traveled deep in enemy territory, it was important for them to restore their effective combat power as quickly as possible.

Compared to how many mechs had fallen, the amount of pilots that perished in battle was much smaller.

Many of them managed to eject their cockpits safely from their doom machines and succeeded in retreating from the battlefield.

It was quite notable how despite how many expert mechs got defeated, many of their pilots succeeded in preserving their lives!

Their cockpits were much faster and better protected than that of regular mechs, and friendly mechs in the vicinity often abandoned their previous orders in order to guard and evacuate the expert pilots from the battlefield.

Even so, deaths were unavoidable. Many mech pilots and even more support personnel perished when mechs, starships, defensive platforms, space stations and more got struck by destructive attacks.

“Our Kosic Ring will soon cease to exist! Only a skeleton is left of our original defensive network!”

The relentless artillery fire from the invading forces had breached the defenses of every major orbital space fortress. Many of them had been blasted into hollow husks that no longer provided any meaningful value aside from giving the Sundered Phalanx additional cover.

The thousands of defensive platforms were also being dismantled at a rapid rate. Though it took a lot of sustained firepower to take them out, their static orbits made it easy for ranged mechs to take them out at a steady rate.

The biggest turning point of the Battle of Pima Prime was the hardfought victory of Patriarch Reginald Cross and the Mars.

The clear defeat of the Neo Amadeus and the savage killing of Saint Jeremiah Gauge caused many Gaugers to lose their hope of gaining victory.

As the best Gauger mech designers and strategists evaluated the state of the retreating Mars, they concluded that it had enough combat power left to intervene in the ongoing fighting, especially after it had returned to its mothership and received a quick fix.

A Sundered Phalanx military advisor clearly described their current situation.

“Once the Mars returns to the battlefield, the battle is over. No expert mech can withstand its firepower. Don’t forget that it is a hybrid mech. It can demolish everything within its line of sight with overwhelming firepower. Perhaps it is not as effective at causing mass destruction to our mech forces as artillery mechs or striker mechs, but every surviving mech unit in the field will fall without a doubt!”

Due to the overwhelming threat of the Mars, the Fridayman commanders concluded that there was no point in fighting the current battle any longer.

System Governor Mabrius Gauge had already thought of how the local troops should proceed after this defeat.

“Commence a general retreat. Our mechs may be doomed on this orbital battlefield, but they can still play a role in delaying the enemy from launching planetary raids on our surface settlements. Pima Prime V is far too large for the Mars to fly around and slaughter every city district and town we have built. Such acts of slaughter are beneath the dignity of a Saint. Patriarch Reginald Cross will only earn mass condemnation and ruin the glory that he has earned from defeating an equal in single combat.”

The Fridaymen clearly recognized that as long as their surviving mech divisions kept fighting on this open battlefield, the Mars could slaughter them all with impunity!

After all, the Sundered Phalanx was a professional military force that explicitly engaged in combat and war. There were hardly any civilians in the field who were truly innocent.

As such, many surviving mech units conducted a gradual but orderly retreat. They boarded whatever combat carriers or transports that were available. These vessels either joined the increasingly more numerous evacuation fleets or descended onto the surface in order to prepare the military mechs for grueling urban battles.

There were many mechs that didn’t necessarily need to board a carrier vessel in order to reach the surface.

The more modern and more resilient multi-environmental mechs with decent flight capabilities simply flew into the planet at different angles and endured the heat generated by air friction before they touched down at their respective destinations.

The most notable ones that the Gaugers sought to evacuate from the star system were their expert mechs and expert pilots.

Sometimes, the powerful machines couldn’t be salvaged as the Hexers and Golden Skullers had already claimed them as spoils, but very few Fridayman expert pilots had fallen in battle.

Even Venerable Oskar Virathon whose mech had suffered multiple intensive counterattacks after destroying the Shield of Samar managed to beat a sorry retreat back to friendly territory!

“These Fridaymen are too good at running away!”

“I’m not surprised. Retreating in good order is an essential survival skill that many veterans of the Komodo War have developed. It’s the only way to preserve their combat strength as best as possible over the course of a lengthy conflict. Most of the mech pilots that ended up losing their lives today are probably the rookies who haven’t learned this lesson.”

As the Fridayman mechs were retreating before the eyes of the invading troops, many Hexers and other people wanted to press their victory!

“The cowards are running away! Pursue! We can’t allow them to retreat so easily!”

Chasing after the retreating Fridayman mech units was easier said than done.

The remnants of the Sundered Phalanx still maintained their fighting spirit despite the specter of defeat looming over their heads. A suicide group had split off from their main ranks and desperately tried to push towards the center of the Larkinson Navy. ed back their victorious patriarch and hero!

“Cross Clan! Cross Clan! Cross Clan!”

When the damaged but still functional Mars entered one of the hangar bays and roughly landed on the deck with a powerful thump, the ace hybrid mech finally dumped the proof of its victory onto the metal surface!

The loud clattering and shaking generated by the unceremonious tossing of the remains of a powerful ace mech did not bother the gathered Crosser servicemen in the slightest.

In fact, their appearance amplified the roars!

“Look at this wreck. How much do you think it will sell on the market?”

“Are you kidding me? Why would we ever want to sell this mech? Its alloys and tech are priceless!”

“Our clan could probably earn at least a million of MTA credits if we put it up for auction. Just look how complete it is. A lot of its systems are still intact and there are hardly any missing parts aside from two of its swords.”

Speaking of swords, the Crossers did not forget to retrieve the plasma sword that the Neo Amadeus wielded at the end.

Though the weapon had been flung away at the final moment before Saint Jeremiah’s defeat, the Crossers had made sure to beat off the Sundered Phalanx mech units that desperately sought to retrieve the last weapon wielded by their deceased ace pilot!

A Crosser mech entered the hangar bay shortly after the arrival of the Mars. The ordinary machine reverently held the inactive plasma sword with both of its hands.

The Mars seemed to bask in the earnest cries of the Crossers, but its ace pilot still remembered that its presence was needed on the battlefield.

Due to the damage sustained to its legs, it was not able to walk efficiently. It was forced to hover above the deck as it quickly moved deeper inside the fleet carrier.

The Mars still held its Whale-Cutting Saber that was currently impaling the cockpit of the Neo Amadeus while it moved to its next destination.

The Crosser mech that held the plasma sword also followed suit.

The two machines eventually reached a workshop that had already been set up to receive the Mars.

Master Benedict Cortez, who wore a thick and protective suit of combat armor, quickly directed the mechs and the personnel under his command to perform emergency repairs and maintenance on the pride of the Cross Clan.

Once the various mech designers, mech technicians and various engineers operated the various workshop machines and bots without any obvious mistakes, the Master Mech Designer smoothly flew down and arrived at the pieces of plunder that had been dumped to the side.

Meanwhile, Patriarch Reginald brought his suited body out of the cockpit of his Mars and descended to the deck in order to join up with the lead designer of his machine.

“Congratulations for your first win.” Master Benedict spoke.

“It was a closer shave than I would have liked, but I owe much of my victory to your work.” Reginald generously praised.

The ace pilot was in an excellent mood despite his obvious exhausted state!

The two soon turned their attention to the enemy cockpit and mech sword.

“I tried to bring back the skull you wanted.” Reginald said. “I tried my best to stab my weapon in a way that shouldn’t hit the skull of my opponent, but the saber that Ketis has developed for me is too big and heavy. I can’t guarantee that Jeremiah’s skull is still in one piece.”

“It’s okay.” Master Benedict smiled. “We can glue it back together as long as it hasn’t disintegrated into powder. I am more interested in the plasma sword to be honest.”

The two walked away from the damaged cockpit and approached the plasma sword that hardly sustained any scratches.

Though Patriarch Reginald cared little about this energy-based weapon, Master Benedict was the opposite.

His mood darkened as a complicated expression appeared on his face. His metal-covered arm reach out and carefully touched the surface of the giant hilt.

Patriarch Reginald immediately noticed the drastic mood swing from his friend.

“What’s wrong?”

“…This sword… is the handiwork of Master Toqueman Huron, did you know that?”

The ace pilot shrugged. “Maybe. It doesn’t matter. A sword is a sword. No matter what fancy tech the Gaugers have put into the Neo Amadeus, their efforts ultimately couldn’t beat your work.”

Master Benedict grimly smiled. “You’re correct. I am proud of the Mars, even though I do not deserve full credit for helping you win. It gladdens me that you managed to teach the developers of the Neo Amadeus a lesson.”

As the two leading figures of the Cross Clan continued to talk, Master Benedict kept staring at the plasma sword that ostensibly contained the skull of a Fridayman expert pilot.

Even now, the ace pilot and the Master Mech Designer could clearly feel the presence of a living individual inside this perversion of a mech weapon!

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