Extraordinary Pedigree.

Chapter 895: The Battle for the Mechanical Righteous Route
Deep in the astral plane, the Council of Masterminds of the Mind-Sucker Empire.

It was a void palace woven with thought light streams and spiritual matrices.

There is no entity, only countless floating huge main brain cores, connected into an ocean of consciousness flowing like a galaxy.

Countless complex mind runes emerged on the silver-purple shell of each master brain. They whispered, breathed, and resonated, maintaining the huge imperial machine.

But at this moment, this huge spiritual structure that has been hanging high and motionless since ancient times began to shake.

【Alert: T-12 hub lost contact. 】

【Alarm: The border synchronization node is abnormally broken. 】

[Alert: Nautilus fleet positioning system fails. ]

[Alert: External entity imposing Golden Rule claims.]

Countless mental lightning bolts tore through the void, and the main brains' thoughts, which were originally as calm as the ocean, immediately set off huge waves.

Thirty-one high-level brains let out sharp mental roars at almost the same time, and the sound waves vibrated into countless cracks in the void.

In this chaotic mental storm, after a moment, the first command wave flashed.

[Master Brain 612: Record anomaly number , marked as Golden Rule-level invasion.]

Then, the second thought emerged.

[Mastermind 2: Activate the Red Embers defense sequence. Masterminds 1, 2, 4 to 10 will jointly bear the load of the peripheral nodes.]

[Mastermind Five: Recall the 7th, 9th, and 13th Colonial Fleets, and give priority to supporting the 6th to 9th Psychic Belts.]

The order spread like a flood, madly spreading to the astral colonies and outposts of the entire Soul Sucker Empire.

The conquest fleets sleeping in the dark star orbits and deep ether faults slowly awakened. The Nautilus ships emerged from the misty jump nodes, like silver-purple vortex monsters, gathering into a stormy fleet.

Legions of servant races also crawled out of the incubation pools, with sticky spores hanging on their skin and their mind links filled with repression, restlessness and a desire for killing.

At the same time, from the direction of the T-12 ruins, an extremely harsh and anxious mental wave vibrated.

[Mastermind Three: Puff~~~]

[T-12 ruins defense failed, mental payload damaged by 64%. ]

[The external mind link has been cut off to prevent the enemy from invading through the link network. 】

[Currently, the loss of the mind network nodes is 45%. ]

【Mastermind Three has been sealed off and contained by the Midgard Courtyard.】

At that moment, the entire parliament fell into a brief silence.

The consciousness of the thirty-one main brains seemed to be hit by an invisible hammer for a moment, and the originally huge and orderly mental matrix stagnated for a few seconds.

Then, a new round of thought storm broke out like a tsunami.

All masterminds simultaneously switch to [Total War Mode].

The huge mental structure was stretched tight inside and outside the star realm. All colonial networks, all hub nodes, and all Nautilus fleets were put on high alert.

The originally calm tactical deployment was replaced by anger, and the defense order turned into a full mobilization order.

The order spread like a raging fire along the mental web, like a fire line igniting a spider web, from every mental fortress to every border satellite, from every conquest incubator to every main brain node.

Certain city-states in the distant star realm can already sense the coming of an invisible storm.

The parasitic slave fleet began to assemble, the controlled warriors let out piercing psychic howls, and the entire border of the Mind-Sucker Empire, like a hay field set on fire by flames, quickly fell into an unprecedented state of wartime mobilization.

……

The flames of war that once roared and shook the sky above the T-12 ruins have subsided.

The Sword-class frigates and the Orthodox Church's folding ships were tearing through the star realm one after another, jumping into the distance and heading for the deeper front lines.

Only the Sword of Glory and two frigates were quietly floating above the ruins, like lingering gods, overlooking the dilapidated yet solemn battlefield below.

The heart of the ruins, the focal point of the battlefield.

A huge, deformed neural tissue - [Master Brain Three] - collapsed like a twisted mountain of flesh and blood.

It was covered with thick rune steel nails, each of which was engraved with complex and intricate ether suppression patterns. The nail handles were pulled by thick chains, and the ends of the chains were directly connected to a docked Sword-class frigate.

Blood slowly flowed out from the nail holes like a dark purple stream, and coagulated into disgusting neuroma lumps on the ground.

The mental pollution that should have burst out was now forcibly suppressed by the rune nails, and only intermittent mental noise leaked out from the broken sea of ​​consciousness of the main brain.

And on top of the wreckage, Xia Xiu stood side by side with the Mechanical Saint.

The two of them quietly looked down at the huge creature that was no longer struggling.

The Mechanical Saint, Saint Bumaro, maintained his human form at this moment, his robe moving slightly, his mechanical body reflecting mottled cold colors in the dim light.

He lowered his head and stared at the rune nails that were inserted into his flesh and blood. His voice was deep and filled with a trace of awe that was difficult to conceal:

"Is this... the God-Slaying Nail that the Kingdom of Heaven uses to hunt down fallen gods?"

Each rune nail was vibrating slightly, suppressing the final madness that was about to stir within the main brain.

Xia Xiu tilted his head slightly, his golden pupils glowing with a cold amber light in the dim light.

His voice was calm, but with a hint of smile:

"Exactly. Originally... we should have used the Damocles Orbital God to project them."

He glanced at the remains of the main brain, then looked at the Mechanical Saint beside him with some meaning, and said lightly:
"But, thanks to you..."

"You alone have saved me from a huge ceremony."

Upon hearing this, Saint Bumaro was silent for a moment, and his mechanically reshaped eyes drooped slightly.

Then, he looked at the entire ruins.

On the bridge of the Sword of Glory, the shadow of Adam was projected onto the command platform, and he calmly and silently began to dispatch the various combat units in the courtyard.

"——Containment operation, begin."

Commands were sent down along the Ethernet communication wave layer.

The two Sword-class frigates anchored high in the sky immediately sent out dozens of auxiliary boats, which shuttled between the broken ruins and collapsed mountains like a gust of wind.

In the ruins where the night sky and wreckage intertwined, a silver mechanical arm fell down with a bang, like a palm extended by a god, and began to gather the high-risk relic components and unexploded relics scattered everywhere.

And further away, on the edge of the war zone.

The two 3.5 generation machines, Azligon and Vesteltein, which were dormant in the giant pit, lost all their autonomous combat capabilities in this war.

Their surfaces were covered with charred cracks and strange streaks left by mental erosion, and their mechanical skeletons faintly flickered with the remnant sound of electric arcs.

But even so, as war miracles left over from the last era, these two giant structures still exude a huge and terrifying pressure.

The recovery operation is carried out by the [Holy Casting Special Agent Company] directly under the courtyard.

The mechanical priests dressed in heavy power armor, stepping on the anti-gravity gliding modules, quickly took over the stable environment of [Azligon] and [Veseltain].

More than a dozen heavy mechanical cranes cooperated with etheric binding rings to carefully seal the two huge machines, wrapping them with a large number of suppression runes and mental sealing belts.

As the last golden ring was completed, the two sleeping machines were slowly lifted off the ground.

They were like defeated beasts lifted from the altar of the god of war, slowly and solemnly rising towards the Sword of Glory.

The huge dock gate slowly opened, and the traction light rail emitting soft blue light covered the entire lifting area.

When [Azligon] and [Wessertain] were towed into the No. 2 and No. 3 dock areas of [Sword of Glory] one by one, the interior of the ship shook, as if welcoming these two heavy new prisoners.

High in the sky, the ruins and the flames of war slowly faded into silence in the night.

The huge dock of the Sword of Glory opened its silvery mouth, swallowing the two damaged war colossi heavily, and the only sound echoing in the ruins of the astral world was the low hum of the giant traction light track. Xia Xiu and Saint Bumarou stood side by side, quietly watching every detail of the containment operation.

The robe fluttered slowly under the slight disturbance of gravity, and the firelight reflected faintly on the deck in front of the two people.

After a long pause, Saint Bumaro spoke.

His voice seemed to echo through thousands of gears and pipes, carrying an ancient, solemn and quiet rhythm:

“I witnessed this battle.”

"In the name of MacKahn, I acknowledge today's victory. It has indeed stopped the corruption of heresy and redeemed the fragment of God."

His voice was low and each word and each note seemed to be struck out from the chimes of iron and fire, carrying with it a divine pressure that was difficult to ignore.

However, immediately afterwards, he tilted his head slightly, and a barely perceptible glimmer flashed across the depths of the pupil that still held some humanity.

"…But even if the one who stole the fire used fire to recast the Son of God, he could not restore the original order."

"You were crowned with the name of Om Messiah, and you made the fragments return to their hearts, but their hearts no longer belonged solely to MacKahn."

The tone was still calm, as if he was just stating an irrefutable fact, but beneath the calmness, there was a hint of subtle accusation and a touch of worry.

Upon hearing this, Xia Xiu just smiled lightly.

The golden pupils reflected the slowly descending aircraft in the dock, as well as the afterglow of the azure data flame.

His tone was calm, without any anger or excuses, as if he had already anticipated Saint Bumarou's questions.

He just replied calmly:

“Since God is broken, there is no need to demand perfection from the broken pieces.”

"The important thing is not to restore the throne of the past."

"Instead, we will create new glory for them in the new era."

The Mechanical Saint remained silent, his eyes looking into the distance.

The existence that towers above the ruins - the [God-given Colossus], stands quietly among the ashes of the battlefield.

Its body was covered in layers of blue flames and pure white crystals, its back was as tall as an altar, and in the center of its chest was still faintly leaping a newborn fire.

The light flows between the cracks in its broken armor, like the lonely shadow of a god isolated from the world.

Xia Xiu narrowed his eyes slightly and stared at the mechanical statue.

And Saint Bumaro beside him finally took a slow step and stood shoulder to shoulder with him at the front of the deck.

After a long silence, the Mechanical Saint spoke in a tone as heavy as cast iron and as distant as the evening bell:
“…He has escaped from corruption.”

"However, the machine soul still carries the troubles and pain of the mind sucker."

His gaze fell on the slowly rising crystalline dust of the mechanical giant. His eyes narrowed slightly, as if a huge weight was pressing on his heart.

"Only the purification of piety can remove the residue."

"Return to the Holy Way."

The low hum of metal and machinery echoed in the silent starry sky, as if even the cold stars in the void trembled for a moment.

His request was not an order from above.

It was a real leaning over - a plea from an ancient believer to the bearer of the oracle.

Xia Xiu stood quietly on the deck of the battleship, his long golden hair fluttering slightly, and the wind blew silently across the broad military robe on his shoulders.

He didn't answer immediately.

Those golden pupils were as deep as the sea, reflecting the [God-given Colossus] standing still in the distance - now, it was a recast Mechanical Saint.

He is thinking and sensing.

It seemed as if one could hear the faint murmur of the colossus's machine soul among the crystal pillars, and seemed as if one could feel the remaining burning gaze of the ancient broken god staring at this place.

After a moment, Xia Xiu lowered his eyes slightly.

He spoke slowly, his voice was gentle, but it had an unshakable weight:

"……Can."

These two short words seemed to lightly open the door of some invisible ritual.

But Xia Xiu did not stop there.

His golden pupils narrowed slightly, and the light was dim.

The tone was calm, even with a hint of pity:
"But you know this doesn't change anything?"

"Even if you offer a thousand prayers and chants, even if you use holy fire to cleanse all corruption and filth -"

Xia Xiu raised his head slightly, the light in his eyes seemed to penetrate the metal, machinery and flesh:
"He will never return to what you call 'wholeness'."

“Because God is broken.”

"but me……"

He whispered softly, like a declaration, like a sigh:
“It’s the one who picks up the broken pieces.”

Saint Bumaro looked at [Om Messiah] and remained silent, as if he was brewing an extremely solemn expression.

The pale, mechanical right hand slowly rose up and pointed to the starry sky above.

The mechanical crown behind it rotated slowly, like the whisper of a silent witness.

"McCann is broken, and his throne has fallen."

"We are the remnant people. The axis of our faith has long acknowledged the imperfections of the world."

His voice rolled in the silent astral world, like a cast iron door slowly pushed open:
"Since He has been shattered into myriad things, and scattered into the dust and sea of ​​stars..."

"Then every speck of dust, every spark, has the potential to carry a scale of God."

Saint Bumaro slowly turned around and faced Xia Xiu, with a calmness that was almost compassionate in his eyes:

"If Om Messiah was born by stealing fire and established by stealing power, he would indeed be considered a rebellious person."

"But we are not fools."

"If all burning fires can warm the lonely and cold children; if all broken weapons can smash the door of heresy——"

"Then, even if He is called the Fire Thief, I shall treat Him as a temporary vessel."

He sighed softly, his voice low:

"Just as strong winds are not necessarily a disaster, thunder is not necessarily a punishment from heaven."

“Miracles do not necessarily come from perfect hands, and salvation does not necessarily come from a flawless heart.”

Saint Bumarou knelt slightly and performed an ancient and complicated Orthodox sacrament:
“I acknowledge that the light in His palm is temporarily given by the fire of MacKahn.”

“And His hand, though not the orthodox successor, can also be the holder of the lamp here and now.”

He raised his head, and in the dim light, his metallic face showed complex and heavy wrinkles, like an inscription tempered by time:
"Wait till the holy war ends."

"Wait for the opportunity to recast it."

"Wait for God's throne to return."

"At that time, we will personally decide who should continue to hold the lamp and who should return the flame."

"Then we can debate who is the true mechanical righteousness."