The charging process of the space carrier's source energy power chamber, firing up at full throttle, was like a continuous eruption of torrential source energy, perceived with absolute clarity by top combat powers.
At times, they actually looked down on spacecraft and this so-called higher source energy technology. For source energy seemed inherently made for humans—or rather, for creatures of flesh and blood. The speed at which it infused and converted into a physical body far surpassed that of any other substance, dead iron included.
Thus, back when Ne was still Azure's chief scientist, he had said: if someone possessed a body as indestructible as dead iron—or even just a single arm or fist—that person would inherently be stronger than any weapon.
Back then, precisely because of Ne's words, Duosang Jiacuo was groomed for a time as the most precious recruit in Azure's history and "humanity's trump card for the future."
Yet unfortunately, even though he had consumed countless source energy blocks almost luxuriously in that era of dire shortages, the pinnacle he ultimately reached was merely being extremely hard to kill with blunt force; he could not withstand piercing attacks.
In other words, even if you smashed him with a giant dead iron warhammer, you would struggle to beat him to death; but the moment you switched to a little dead iron dagger, you could easily stab right through him and kill him.
This flaw remained unchanged even after he stepped into the ranks of the Super class.
This rendered Duosang Jiacuo's tenacious vitality rather pointless. At the same time, perhaps due to some kind of trade-off, he had virtually no offensive prowess. Even as a Super, his attacking power was inferior to that of a sub-top-tier Azure warrior.
And so, later on...
Later on, he became Azure's full-time Grand Lama, the Master Duosang Jiacuo whom Han Qingyu met while escorting the plateau residents during their migration.
That first meeting had instantly devolved into them hammering each other. The master yearned for the battlefield; this had never changed from the very beginning. In his own words: "After all, I ate so many source energy blocks back then. Every single one was bought with the brothers' lives, and saved with their lives."
"I have Yanxiu too. Do you think my Yanxiu skeletal remains are out there? If they are, once I get them, will I stop being afraid of being stabbed? Will my attacks stop being so pathetic?"
"Damn it, this really makes This Buddha look forward to it."
Inside a partitioned high-grade cabin aboard the carrier Doomsday Great Wall, Duosang Jiacuo asked with an earnest, expectant expression.
General Jiang Longchi looked at him, his gaze pondering seriously for a moment before blurting out, "Where's my grandson?!"
"Hey, where's my grandson? Where did he go? Is he fighting the Great Spikes again?"
With that, he moved to stand up.
Fortunately, Shen Fengting held him down and soothed him. Thinking for a second, he initially intended to spin a direct lie, but hesitated before changing his mind. "I'll go check for you."
"Oh, okay. Thank you, you're truly a good person." Jiang Longchi paused. "But why do you have to go check for me? Can't I look myself? Can't you take me to see?"
"Because I'm wearing glasses," Shen Fengting replied smoothly. At the same time, he smoothly pulled a pair of reading glasses from his pocket and put them on. "Are you wearing any? Hey, where are your glasses?"
"Me? Glasses? That's right, where are my glasses?" Jiang Longchi immediately began rummaging around left and right, even though he had never worn glasses in his life.
"You look for them first. I'll go check for you." With that, Shen Fengting turned and walked straight out of the cabin.
This was why Han Qingyu, Wen Jifei, and the others had entrusted General Jiang to his care. Rusty Sister's grandfather was simply too good at handling Jiang Longchi.
Because he had in fact been constantly worried—worried about his granddaughter Shen Yixiu, worried about Han Qingyu, worried about the entire expeditionary force—Shen Fengting had decided to come out and see.
Knowing the bridge had to be frantic and tense right now, Shen Fengting didn't bother using their observation scope. Instead, he walked straight toward the hatchway.
As the ship was still preparing to launch and waiting to take on personnel, the massive hatch had not been closed. Shen Fengting hurried to the opening, his anxious and urgent gaze sweeping over the battlefield.
In the distance, Puta'er's colossal, ferocious figure came into view at once.
It was already in motion: lunging forward into a stance akin to a forward lunge, both hands gripping its massive four-edged greatsword as it cleaved down from upper right to lower left, as if slicing down from beyond the heavens...
Along the trajectory traced by the greatsword, Shen Fengting felt as though he could see a swath of space abruptly collapsing.
...
Han Qingyu had never intended to fight Puta'er head-on. Not once had that thought crossed his mind. All his attacks and aggressive displays were purely meant to stall and delay it, buying precious time.
So just moments ago, amidst the shattering of the massive pillar sword, when he charged to within two hundred meters of Puta'er,
he came to a halt without pressing the offensive. In truth, his physical condition and depleted energy left him incapable of mounting any decent attack anyway.
He only wanted Puta'er to stop here as well, keeping its attention fixed on him for as long as possible.
As for the other Great Spikes and craft, there were naturally others in the expeditionary force who could hold them off. Aside from Puta'er's presence, this Great Spike fleet was neither larger nor stronger than the forces encountered in Antarctica or the opening battle on Mars.
Puta'er was the true embodiment of annihilation.
Casting his mind back, the Puta'er that had appeared in Antarctica seemed to have learned human speech long ago, and had prattled on quite a bit once it emerged.
Thus, after coming to a stop, Han Qingyu tilted his head up and actively sought eye contact. He hoped this Puta'er might say something too—better yet, engage in a brief conversation.
If it didn't take the initiative, Han Qingyu could initiate it himself, asking things like: "Hello. You just shouted 'Yekelaxia'—is that your name? Do you know that another giant beetle like you was chopped to death back where we came from?"
Unfortunately, things did not unfold as he had hoped. Not in the slightest.
Perhaps this giant beetle was rather uncultured. Two hundred meters away, the silver-scaled Puta'er merely stared fixedly at him for several seconds, then with an "Aorgh!", stepped forward and brought its sword down in a ferocious slash.
It was merely the windup, yet the powerful astral wind swept against Han Qingyu like slicing blades. Without the protection of source energy defense, an ordinary human body would likely have been pulverized into mincemeat instantly.
As the four-edged greatsword slashed down diagonally, the space before Han Qingyu's eyes began to warp and dim. It even gave the sensation that any second now, it would lose all form and collapse into a black hole.
The ground buckled and shattered under the pressure. Expanses of earth and stone collapsed behind him, then were swept away like debris caught in a gale, hurtling into the distance.
Han Qingyu knew he could not remain on the ground; otherwise, he wouldn't have the distance or space to disperse the impact later.
Stamping against the astral wind, Han Qingyu launched his comparatively tiny frame straight upward, leaning backward deliberately as he rose... This backward tilt was completed so swiftly that his hands moved as though unearthing the smaller blue-light pillar sword from deep underground at his lower left.
Without pausing, harnessing the momentum and twisting his entire body, he launched it in an explosive burst.
The pillar sword shot forth like a streak of lightning, aiming straight for Puta'er's face.
At the same time, Han Qingyu's entire body shot backward in evasive retreat.
In mid-flight, he rapidly mobilized his source energy, telekinetically pulling the two dead iron straight swords he had previously thrown from the ground to prepare for subsequent defense.
Han Qingyu was evading. Even as he fled, he hoped the threat of the pillar sword striking its face would force Puta'er to pause and defend—even if it only spared one hand to parry, it would drastically reduce the pressure of the incoming strike.
Yet it did not.
The pillar sword's momentum noticeably waned as it pierced through that warped space. Sensing this, Puta'er chose to ignore it entirely, letting the weapon crash straight toward its face...
In the end, the smaller pillar sword failed to even brush Puta'er's faceplate, falling away against its invisible source energy protective barrier.
Suspended in midair, Han Qingyu let out a helpless, bitter smile.
He had retreated, retreated swiftly, and struggled with everything he had. Yet the end result was that he still hadn't escaped the blast radius of Puta'er's greatsword.
Above, the four-edged greatsword was already crashing down.
Han Qingyu's dead iron warblades arrived as well.
Gripping a warblade in each hand, the only thing Han Qingyu had time left to do was cross the dual blades, unleash every last drop of residual energy in his body, and raise them in a desperate block.
Chapter 940