The control of the skies had belonged to Yang Ying for years. The landing operation by his forces had never ceased, with continuous waves of follow-up troops pouring onto the beachhead.

Each Juggernaut-class battlecruiser carried ground assault troops, comprising both infantry and armor. The infantry numbered around two hundred thousand, primarily composed of marines with supporting units from various other branches. As for the armored forces, every battlecruiser carried thirty-six tanks organized into three formations, along with two mine-laying vehicles, and one formation of massive mechs.

Infantry organization was based on squads of twelve men, utilizing a ternary system. This scaled up sequentially to platoons, companies, battalions, and regiments, and so on.

Armored unit organization dictated that one formation of tanks constituted a Tank Company; the same structure applied to mine-laying vehicles and giant mechs.

This meant that each Juggernaut-class battlecruiser transported the equivalent of two infantry regiments, one armored battalion, two mine-layer companies, and one mech company. Furthermore, essential command structures—such as regimental headquarters, division headquarters, and even army group command centers—along with their supporting units, like repair detachments composed of Pao units and reconnaissance units formed by Phantom agents, were all fully integrated.

Consequently, upon landing, these diverse units could rapidly consolidate into an organized military force.

At this point, the majority of the armored forces had completed their deployment, though the infantry was still disembarking. On the landing zone, two entire army groups, comprising over thirty armored divisions, had already assembled. At Yang Ying’s command, the entire army launched its offensive, charging forward under the protective curtain of siege artillery!

The marines raised their Gauss rifles and squeezed the triggers, unleashing a staccato of fire: Tatatatata! The high-penetration Gauss rounds were nearly unstoppable, tearing through alloy armor and ripping flesh apart. Even the energy shields of the high-grade combat mechs were shattered after only a few hits.

At this critical moment, Yang Ying and his thirteen comrades swooped down once more. They deployed layer upon layer of 'Splitting Webs,' intercepting every incoming attack from the rebel side, effectively trapping them in a kill zone where they could only absorb fire. Over a hundred hovering turrets zipped back and forth, spitting thousands of lethal beams that reaped the rebel forces in swathes.

Bullets fell like a gale, beams descended like a torrential downpour, and heavy ordnance roared like the collapse of the heavens. Finally, the morale of the rebels shattered. If they could have inflicted any damage on the enemy, they might have mustered a flicker of courage, but with all their attacks nullified by the Splitting Webs, and the enemy's firepower too overwhelming—every forward step costing them dearly—the feeling of impotent rage stripped them of any hope for victory.

Rebel soldiers began to turn tail and flee rearward. Only the robot units remained steadfastly executing their programmed orders, executing deserters on the spot without the slightest mercy. Thousands of soldiers who had just turned around, hoping to escape, were spotted by nearby robots, which opened fire with several piercing bursts, cutting them all down.

The wavering soldiers nearby felt a chill in their hearts. They gazed at the ruthless robotic units beside them, then at the enemy ahead who seemed entirely untouchable. Hesitation set in. The number of combat robots within the rebel army actually outnumbered the ordinary soldiers. Now, these robots served as execution squads, and eliminating them was an impossible task for the average soldier.

However, those wavering within the rebel ranks found a tactic. They subtly slowed their pace, allowing the robots to surge forward first. They lagged slightly behind, ensuring that when incoming fire struck, the robots would die first, while they themselves were not technically retreating—at worst, they were moving slowly, a far cry from desertion.

"Damn it. Utterly despicable! These cowards, trying to slip by like this? I'll have every last one of them arrested and court-martialed!" Walker roared across the large display screen after switching views several times and spotting this phenomenon across many sectors of the battle line. He bellowed a few times, gasped for breath, and shook his head. "Forget it. I can't rely on them. Order the robot units to push forward at full strength! Engage in close-quarters combat. Once they are close enough, that bizarre light net of theirs won't be effective!"

"Yes, sir." Several staff officers immediately sprang into action. After issuing the command, the eyes of every robot instantly glowed red, and they charged forward with maniacal fervor!

Yang Ying observed the robots’ fearless advance; even when decimated by siege artillery, they stubbornly pressed on. He pondered for a moment, devised a plan, and contacted the Juggernaut via communicator. About half a minute later, a meteor trailing flames streaked across the sky, slamming into the battlefield.

An invisible shockwave rapidly expanded, quickly engulfing the fifty to sixty thousand robot troops at the very front of the rebel line. This was the long-unseen EMP Wave, a specialized weapon designed to cripple electronic equipment.

Yet, the effect of this missile was not as profound as Yang Ying had anticipated. The lightly built cannon-fodder robots continued their tenacious advance, seemingly unaffected by the EMP.

Yang Ying, however, was not discouraged. These combat robots were ultimately products of a higher civilization; adding basic protection against electromagnetic pulses was hardly surprising. Moreover, the missile hadn't been entirely useless: at the very least, the energy shields of the high-grade combat robots had been completely stripped away by the initial attack, making them more vulnerable to incoming projectile fire.

The Phantom fighter craft soared overhead. Yang Ying could clearly observe that the ten thousand siege cannons were already...

Though the rebel robots were numerous, they could not breach the defensive line formed by the barrage of fire. Once the marines began their assault, those robot units began to suffer losses even faster.

Even though robots from the rear kept replenishing the front line, for every ten that arrived, twelve were destroyed. The rate of destruction exceeded the rate of reinforcement. The front line was not advancing; instead, it was steadily being pushed backward.

Ten more orange-red pillars of light shot down from the sky, carving out a vast empty space within the rebel ranks. This was the fifth such salvo.

The Yamato Cannon required a fifteen-minute cooldown, so Yang Ying had arranged the hundred-plus battlecruisers in orbit to divide into ten batches, firing once every minute and a half to achieve a continuous effect. This current strike was the fifth in that sequence.

After five rounds, the effect was quite satisfactory; the rebel battle line was pushed back, gradually moving beyond the effective range of the siege tanks. Thus, the siege tanks began to advance in waves, further pushing the line forward.

"Lord Walker, you must order a retreat immediately. No amount of troops can sustain this rate of attrition. We have been fighting for nearly an hour, and we have already lost eight hundred thousand robots and nearly two hundred thousand soldiers. Eight legions have been permanently wiped out, and four others are heavily damaged. Not only have we failed to reach the landing zone, but we have actually been pushed back by the enemy. That bizarre light net they employ renders our attacks almost entirely fruitless. Continuing this fight will only lead to futile sacrifice. Why must you be so stubborn?"

Inside the rebel command center, the Chief of Staff urgently pleaded with Walker.

Walker’s expression was grim, as if shrouded by dark clouds. In this past hour, he had witnessed events he still refused to believe: he had committed so many troops, staking nearly all his assets on this single throw, only to lose so decisively—unable to even reach the enemy lines to cause them any significant trouble!

Shortly before, he had rescinded the order for robots to execute soldiers on the spot, realizing it only exacerbated their own casualties. Many soldiers were now fighting desperately to carve a path backward rather than push forward; ultimately, nearly half the infantry had deserted. Even for a butcher like him, ordering robots to execute half his army now, knowing the other half might face the same fate soon after, was an act only possible if his brain had been shot through.

After a moment of contemplation, Walker gritted his teeth. "Order the Third and Fourth Robot Legions to form the rear guard. The rest… retreat."

The staff officers instantly relayed the command. In an instant, the entire army seemed granted amnesty, turning tail and fleeing backward, leaving only over a hundred thousand robot troops still charging fearlessly toward the landing zone.

Five minutes later, they were all reduced to scrap metal and severed parts.

"Pursue them and continue the attack! Eliminate as much of their remaining fighting strength as possible!" Yang Ying commanded from the air upon seeing the rebels attempting to flee.

Seven thousand mine-laying vehicles took the lead. They were all hover-skiffs, moving with blinding speed, entirely unconstrained by the ground. They trailed closely behind the retreating rebel units, launching attacks forward with their grenade launchers.

Simultaneously, the swarm of Phantom fighters in the sky dove down. Their air combat against the rebel fighters was without suspense; victory was already secured. Some rebel aircraft were shot down, others damaged and fled. The skies now belonged entirely to the Phantom craft.

If visible, tens of thousands of Phantom fighters would have blotted out the sun, making daylight dim. However, they were cloaked. They swept the ground with their built-in rapid-fire cannons, inflicting massive rebel casualties while simultaneously sowing terror. The rebels never knew when a beam from an unknown direction would strike and kill them, keeping their nerves constantly strained to the breaking point, where the slightest disturbance could cause a complete mental collapse into madness.

Soon after, the rebels were driven into an even deeper abyss. The Banshee fighters, having replenished their munitions, reappeared on the battlefield. The cluster rockets they carried possessed astonishing destructive power. Although there were only twelve hundred Banshees, far fewer than the Phantoms, the casualties they inflicted on the enemy were in no way inferior to those inflicted by the Phantoms.

This relentless series of strikes finally transformed the rebel withdrawal into a rout. Soldiers scrambled over one another in their haste to flee backward, discarding weapons and heavy gear. They harbored no thoughts other than escape. If they saw anyone blocking their path, they would not hesitate to shoot that person down and trample over their back to continue fleeing. Many even drew their sidearms and shot those directly in front of them.

Walker watched this in fury, mentally vowing to ruthlessly enforce discipline and make an example of several men once his forces returned. But for now, these fleeing soldiers needed saving. He issued successive orders for several robot legions to turn and cover the retreat of the main body. Simultaneously, he ordered loudspeakers to blare commands over the communication channels, attempting to restore order.

However, the momentum of the rout had already taken hold. The engulfed soldiers could no longer perceive their surroundings. Even if they noticed that the pursuers behind them had momentarily halted their advance, they could only follow the tide, as slowing down even slightly risked being trampled to death—or even shot by a stray bullet.

A chapter for today; I will make up the rest tomorrow.