Chapter 46 45:
Through the hologram at his side, the figures flickered, and rose.
Of the remaining colonial forces, he had already lost one point two billion in only 45 fractions, which had already represented an unusual loss.
Worse still, he had lost a key squadron in a matter of instants because of the alien prince with the hammer. Of the three hundred twelve million Venatici key to countering the Lanthers, he had already lost one hundred sixty-eight million, evaporated by energetic excess.
One thousand one hundred fifty Viltrumite cruisers were destroyed, three thousand eight hundred seventy-one Eye of Argal turrets lost, and more than two hundred eighty billion swarm ships had been destroyed.
This was a complete disaster to behold, for Varnak-Sul, for his position as commander at these moments. However, he was alone, since his brothers were taken by the regent himself to respond on other fronts. Therefore, not only was he alone, but he also had to deal with the very bulk of the enemy merely to serve as a distraction.
Varnak-Sul activated the command channel immediately, deciding to go to the front in order to destabilize the numerical superiority of the enemy forces.
At the same time, the communication transmitted through his thoughts, translated by the psionic devices, reached all colonial and Venatici officers simultaneously.
"execute an inertial fallback. Fan formation extending from the northern constellation, to the southeastern constellation, leave the southern constellation completely to the Eyes of Argal, indiscriminate fire immediately, I repeat, indiscriminate fire immediately."
He shouted in his mind, watching as the chaotic front seemed to move to his wishes, taking the shape he had ordered, without ceasing to respond to the massive attacks that seemed to leave massive plasmatic stains across space, like a loose canvas in a painting.
He did not need the officers to respond with immediate affirmatives, they simply executed the order on the move.
At the same time, Varnak-Sul had already gained speed, reaching a relative linear movement that seemed to leave a line of plasma stretching across the eastern constellation of the enemy flank.
His body, as part of the race with one of the greatest resistances in the universe, added to the instantaneous relative speed, was like crossing the ocean. Despite feeling the resistance, he passed through as though everything his fists above his head in flight position touched behaved like liquid.
Behind him, he only left a line of plasma and red-hot melted matter.
In a matter of fractions, he had already begun causing massive casualties, from hundreds of thousands to millions of enemies, noticeable to the opposing leaders.
After having stopped momentarily in a neutral space, he evaluated the destruction from his position, immediately afterward, he ordered a distraction counterattack toward what had been classified as sector seven, where the Aizir forces seemed densest.
When the Cosmic Force came to reinforce, they exposed their flank in sector twelve.
And with a "now," transmitted to his subordinates through thought, a Venatici legion performed an inverted wedge formation that broke the supply line of the enemy swarm ships.
For a moment, the balance began to tilt toward a proportional type of stalemate, which translated into enemy casualties being much greater than should have been estimated.
But Varnak-Sul knew this would not remain that way for long, because despite the weakness of these imperfect races, there were competent commanders who spared no effort in reversing their strategies as soon as he played his cards.
In fact, while he decided to perform another destructive maneuver, he saw how four beams of light, which he sensed to be extremely dangerous, seemed to intertwine to corner him in a disastrous crossroads.
Making use of his superior speed, he moved aside, barely avoiding instant death. Literally, one of the beams grazed him, and where it touched him, it left a line of scorched blood upon him. It was as though an imperial metal knife had cut him without any resistance whatsoever.
Varnak-Sul, after observing the origin of those lights of devastation, his face became even more serious.
A squadron of fifty special Lanthers headed directly toward his position, with more than obvious intentions.
The fifty Lances activated in unison as soon as they noticed Varnak-Sul was still alive. Fifty amber beams crossed space, each with the intention of piercing him to death.
Varnak-Sul barely had time to turn before leaving the death zone.
He frowned. That toy had represented a dangerous object of deterrence that had harvested the lives of many of his comrades.
"insolent," he thought, transmitting his thought through space toward his enemies, who furiously aimed and prepared their weapons once more, while millions of spears of light materialized and launched themselves toward Varnak-Sul's direction.
Clenching his fists, Varnak-Sul disappeared in only a fraction of a terrestrial second, becoming a blur that struck the constructions which shattered into pieces upon contact with his skin. At the same time, he performed an instantaneous encirclement of the fifty warriors and exposing his palm, cut one of his enemies in half as though his fingers were the blade of a knife over butter.
The energized suit of the warrior exploded in a burst of plasma that extended for kilometers, as though it were the most feared apocalyptic detonation by the distant and for the moment primitive humanity, a nuclear bomb.
But for Varnak-Sul, it was nothing more than feeling a slight shock of heat that disturbed his vision. As soon as he was engulfed by the flash, it served as cover for him to grab another of his enemies by the neck.
Placing his other hand upon the Lanther's shoulder, he applied some force, and in an instant, the head together with part of his enemy's spinal column had been violently torn from the torso, while, at the same time, he used the same corpse, aiming the already active lance and directing the particular laser against part of his attackers, killing ten Lanthers in only an instant.
"noooooo, be careful!"
"this demon is too dangerous!"
"for god's sake, we are going to die, we are going to die here!"
"Lasaro, focus, in the name of OohÁ, remember the mission even if we die"
"12 casualties, strategic change, team of 4, I repeat, team of four."
The Lanthers, aware of the deaths of their companions, did not waste time and changed strategy, each one covering their flanks.
Varnak-Sul expressed his clear disgust for those insolent cockroaches, and once again, avoided a giant hand that attempted to slap him, while he swatted with the back of his hand what apparently had been the construction of an Aizir ship attempting to ram him.
That construction transformed into a heap of flashes and fragments of light which Varnak-Sul ignored. He directed his inertial force toward the direction of one of the squadrons, dodging a piercing shot. He grabbed a floating piece of debris within the reach of his hand and with a javelin-like motion, that fragment disappeared and pierced one of the squadron, provoking another explosion of energy that engulfed his companions, killing and severely injuring the rest.
"d-damn it, deployment, deployment of the rest of the teams, do not engage in close comb..." the words of the Lanther, who appeared to be the leader of said squadron, were completely silenced when Varnak-Sul's palm simply slapped his helmet, transforming his head, neck, and shoulders into a mere bloody cloud.
However, his sacrifice had not been in vain. At the last moment, he had given the instructions, in addition to having struck a hard blow against the demonic general of the empire.
"aaahg, damn it," Varnak-Sul complained, feeling the pain of being pierced through.
In fact, the Piercing Lance had been pressed directly into the side of his stomach, dangerously exposing his torso.
The general was furious, very furious.