Galactic Conflict: I Restore the Glory of Humanity

Several mechanical priests, dressed in thick red robes and emitting the smell of engine oil and burnt circuits, walked slowly with heavy steps on the wide but silent street.

The streets were littered with corpses that looked as shriveled as dead trees. Without exception, the cause of death of these poor people was long-term overwork.

When these mechanical priests finally arrived at the shipyard, suddenly, a figure as thin as a candle in the wind rushed out from a dark corner.

In the dim light, one can vaguely make out that the owner of this figure is still young, probably around thirteen or fourteen years old.

His skinny body seemed to be just a thin layer of skin covering his bones, which made people feel pity. Obviously, he had experienced countless unimaginable sufferings and tortures here.

"Please make way! Please make way!"

The thin child shouted loudly while running desperately through the crowded streets.

He turned a blind eye to the shocking corpses around him, as if these people who had been dead for a long time did not exist at all.

I saw him running all the way and rushing straight into a narrow and dark alley.

"Do we need to stop him, Master Priest?" At this time, a fully armed soldier of the Crusader Army quickly walked to the leading mechanical priest and asked in a low voice.

However, the mechanical priest only slightly shook his head, which was inlaid with complex mechanical devices, and a barely perceptible sympathy flashed across the depths of his eye sockets, one of the few that had not yet been mechanized. But in the blink of an eye, this sympathy was completely covered up by cold and ruthless reason.

"Don't pay attention to him, let's go to the shipyard first. I must find out as soon as possible how many survivors are still alive on this planet." After the Mechanical Priest gave the order expressionlessly, he walked towards the gate of the shipyard first, and several Crusader soldiers hurriedly followed.

Before long, they successfully entered the spacious and deep interior of the shipyard.

Suddenly, dazzling lights shone directly above the head like sharp swords, making it difficult to open the eyes. Looking around, I saw tens of thousands of craftsmen in tattered clothes working enthusiastically on a giant ship.

This giant ship has not yet been completed, but its grandeur can already be seen.

The leading mechanical priest had sharp eyes and recognized at a glance that the big guy in front of him was a Cobra-class destroyer that was under intensive construction.

Just as he was secretly observing, a slightly older man slowly walked out from the control room nearby.

The old man wore a dazzling golden Sky Eagle emblem on his chest, which reflected extremely dazzling beams of light under the strong light.

"Who are you? How dare you trespass here without permission!" The old voice revealed a hint of majesty and vigilance.

However, before the other party could respond, the Mechanical Priest spoke first: "Your mission has been completed..."

As the Mechanical Priest's deep and magnetic voice rang out, the old man in the lead was stunned for a moment, and then slowly walked down from the control console.

His steps seemed a little heavy, as if every step carried endless pressure and fatigue.

Then, his originally calm body began to tremble uncontrollably, and he walked towards the mysterious mechanical priest step by step with difficulty.

When I got closer, I found out that he was one of the few men in the group who had undergone life-extending surgery.

It was also because of this that he was able to witness with his own eyes his compatriots leaving him one after another. The pain and helplessness of watching life slip away but being unable to do anything had long been deeply engraved on his weathered face.

"My mission... is it really completed? Can I... can I really leave?" The old man widened his eyes, his face full of disbelief. He stared closely at the tall and majestic mechanical priest in front of him, as if he wanted to see some clues from behind the other's cold red robe.

His lips trembled slightly, and his voice was a little hoarse due to excessive excitement: "This...is this true? Are you sure you didn't make a mistake?"

At this time, the old man's body was shaking due to excessive excitement, so much so that he could not stand and walk normally.

He could only stretch out one hand and hold on to the wall beside him with difficulty to support his shaky body, while continuing to ask: "Please tell me again, all this is not an illusion, right?"

In response to the old man's urgent question, the mechanical priest's emotionless electronic synthesized voice slowly sounded: "Yes, you and your companions have practiced the ideals of the Empire and your loyalty to the Emperor with your lives. Now you have gained your freedom. Not only that, your descendants will be properly resettled. They will be arranged to work in the administrative departments of the Empire and live a stable and prosperous life from now on."

Hearing these words, the old man's tense nerves relaxed instantly, and a huge joy surged into his heart like a tide.

He was stunned at first, then suddenly seemed to come to his senses, raised his arms and shouted: "Really, we are free! Free!"

The old man's shout was like a thunder, breaking through the dull and depressing space. For a moment, the whole workshop was boiling.

The workers who had been working hard stopped their work, dropped their heavy tools, took off their greasy gloves, and swarmed towards the cheering old man.

Everyone gathered together, releasing the emotions that had been pent up for a long time in their hearts. Cheers, laughter, and crying resounded through the sky, and everyone's face was filled with smiles of happiness and relief.

"Sir..." With a heavy sound of metal friction, a slightly hunched mechanical priest slowly walked out from the shadows. His tattered robe swayed slightly in the wind, and it was covered with traces of oil and wear.

When he finally stood in front of another mechanical priest, he raised his head, revealing a face that was eroded by time. There was a faint light flashing in his empty eyes, as if it would go out at any time.

I saw him raise his rusty metal arm with difficulty, and every movement made a creaking sound that made people's teeth ache. Finally, the arm was slowly placed in front of his chest, just like an old, rusty gear turning with effort.

"Greetings, sir..." the mechanical priest said in a hoarse and low voice. His tone was full of awe and humility, as if the person in front of him was the last straw in his life.

After saying this, he slowly bent down and performed a gear salute in an extremely slow and solemn posture. This action seemed extremely strenuous for him, but he still insisted on completing the entire ceremony.

The Mechanical Priest on the other side saw this and calmly returned the gear salute. Then, he asked expressionlessly, "How many of you are left now?"

"It's only tens of millions, sir..."