Chapter 61

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His men looked at him in terror.

Ares Von stroked his chin as if he was petting a cat, the friction between metal and skin creating a strange sound, "What? You can't figure it out?"

As the most notorious pirate leader in the universe, when he was not broadcasting for a live planet blow-up, his walking was very slow, his steps somewhat unsteady and swaying, always needing to have something for his hand to hold onto – perhaps the artificial limb did not feel safe enough.

If he kept his horrible face in a veil, just looking at his back, he was almost just like an old and kind uncle.

"I might have spoiled Primalien these years, who is a little crazy, but he always has been crazy with a sense of propriety." Ares Von struck the floor with his crutch. "He finally disappeared in the Death Desert, why? The Death Desert has a complex terrain. It is extremely dangerous. Any person with a working brain wouldn't go to such a place to fight with the unknown enemy – even though he had to, at least he could send a message to me, right? But he didn't. He didn't regard the opponent as a rival."

One of his men turned to take a look at the group of small mech that launched a desperate struggle with the vanguard, asking in disbelief: "Just like that?"

The Self-Defense Force suffered severe losses in a few seconds – around three or four mechs got destroyed but had no corpse inside.

It was common to play dumb to take advantage of someone, but no one would play dumb then get caught in their own scheme.

If this was just a show, it would be way too real – were all these mechs unmanned?

Ares Von just ignored him, continuing his soliloquy in a low voice: "How could a large army like that, with heavy mech, be caught at once, without one piece left? If they didn't have an army of hyperspace massive mech, then Primalien might have been plotted against – they detonated the nuclear missile room... or the massive energy source like the transfer point. Even if the transfer point explodes, there is a small chance that the whole army would be destroyed, but we received no warning or SOS – which means, Primalien still chose to chase them under the heavy loss. He is not a fool, so the only possible explanation could be that the opponent looked extremely vulnerable, a small mech army like this, with two or three little kitties."

Suddenly, there was a rush of footsteps at the door – a man walked in quickly: "Lord Ares Von, I've heard that your men have found an armed ..."

"A man with a malicious heart — do you know who I am thinking of? For all these years, we've met them many times when we took a visit to the IU." Ares Von didn't seem to see anyone coming, talking to his men in a steady voice: "After Jingheng Lin's death, didn't his Silver Ten Squadrons drift apart? They have been quiet so far. Some of them might have fled to the Eighth Galaxy."

The intruder stopped immediately when he heard this. He felt nervous: "What did you say? The Silver Ten Squadrons!"

The man who just arrived was a middle-aged tall and thin person, dressed in a way that was out of place in the space mech – he was wearing a straight-collared jacket and changpao robe with lace, underneath was a pair of skin-tight breeches, his long hair that reached up to his waist tied up in a ribbon. This outfit had a long history dating back to the Ancient Earth Era – the organic combination of gorgeous baroque and mysterious eastern Han-style, only the most fastidious old school man could dress like this.

An old schoolman like this was a rare sight in other places, while there were a bunch of them in the AUG – the AUG believed in what was natural and old school, hence, they were willing to dress like a Taxus, just for nature.

"Evening, Prophet Royce." Ares Von turned to greet him calmly, leaning to his side and correcting: "I don't think it's one of the Silver Ten Squadron. Maybe just a few people. After the IU was destroyed by their own, the Ten Silver Squadrons once rebelled, though they immediately backed down and compromised. But considering the IU has always been hypocrites, who might have not have been able to settle accounts with them later. Five years have passed, it is common for the old elites to be sent to distant areas and be exiled to different places, isn't it?"

After Ares Von arrived in the extraterritorial regions, he sought asylum under the AUG – where "faith" led everything in it. Each army had a senior "prophet" from the AUG, responsible for the surveillance and missionary work, keeping those interstellar pirates from indulging in modern weapons and forgetting their grand mission of anti-tech.

And this "Baroque-Han style" enthusiast was the missionary head in Prince Cayley's army.

This "prophet" looked very serious as he listened. After a few seconds of thinking, he nodded and said: "You're right. We've entered the Eighth Galaxy for a long time now. If they were one of the Ten Squadrons, I presume that the whole Eighth Galaxy would have been turned upside down. They didn't have to hide like this – Lord Ares, what's our next step?"

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