The Holy Blood Guard swiftly dispatched the rogue insects, advancing toward Dante to assess his condition.
"I'm fine." Dante removed his mask, sitting on the ground to catch his breath.
The members of the Holy Blood Guard exchanged puzzled glances. Recently, they had noticed their battle captain pausing to regain his breath more often than usual. With Dante's strength—capable of holding his own against the Broodlord—such fatigue seemed inexplicable. Even with his age, this level of exhaustion in the midst of battle was strange.
But perhaps it was because the Holy Blood Guard, solely tasked with protecting Dante, didn't carry the weight of countless regiments and a homeworld on their shoulders. Or maybe, in the prime of their lives, they couldn't perceive the toll of mental exhaustion that weighed on Dante.
Physical weariness could be overcome; the wear of the mind, however, was unyielding.
"Leave a few men here to guard the Captain while he rests," ordered the Guard's commander. "The rest of you, follow me…"
"I'm not some old man in need of young guards," Dante said, rising and striding toward the chamber exit.
The others exchanged glances before following, resigned.
The ship was vast. Even though over half of it now lay as wreckage scattered across Baal's surface, at least eight kilometers of the vessel remained intact.
The exact model of the ship was unrecognizable, but the ornaments and insignia on the walls revealed its origin: it belonged to the Gate of Heaven fleet.
The Gate of Heaven fleet had once protected Baal—but they had failed. The Navy fleet guarding the Hades system had fallen swiftly, cut down by the revived bio-ships after they moved in when the Shield of Light had momentarily frozen them.
The Gate of Heaven fleet had met its end with more dignity; at least, they hadn't fallen to carelessness.
As Dante made his way through the ship, Mephiston guided him, helping him locate other survivors. Though the decapitation strike was swift, it had not gone without challenge.
When a giant insect burst onto the deck, many were thrown apart or struck down. Inside and out, the swarm immediately sensed the humans' location, enclosing the scattered fighters.
The battle claimed over seven hundred casualties.
When Dante found the Mourner Company, he saw they had fared relatively well; eighty out of the original hundred in the First Company remained. Chapter Captain Foros also survived, though a bone blade was lodged in his abdomen.
"Did a bug catch you off guard?" Dante hurried over, taking Foros' arm from his men to support him.
He assumed Foros had been ambushed to be wounded in this way.
As a fellow Son of the Angel, Dante was familiar with the Mourner Company, who were often forced to operate in isolation. In a regiment like theirs, only those with exceptional battle skills and command abilities could lead.
But the truth was different than he assumed.
"I transported," Foros whispered weakly.
The four simple words were enough for Dante to understand. Clearly, Foros had encountered an error while using the Talon's peculiar teleportation technology. Under desperate circumstances, he must have found himself re-materializing in the path of a blade.
The bone blade had seamlessly fused with Foros's flesh and ceramite armor.
"Apologies," Foros murmured as the group continued searching for remaining survivors.
Dante glanced at Foros, confused.
Foros continued, "When my men were scattered, those facing the least number of bugs cleared an area quickly for the others to teleport in. We wanted to rescue more, but there were too many bugs. Forced teleportation would've merged us with the swarm."
"I understand," Dante nodded. "You did all you could. I did all I could. That's all that matters."
Foros looked down silently as the group pressed onward.
Those who survived the decapitation strike were gradually gathered. Out of the thousand who had started, only two hundred remained. Though they hadn't all faced the Broodlord, their fight had been grueling.
After finding all the space marines, Dante remembered to locate the Data Artisan and his mech warriors. He found only a dozen remaining from the original near-hundred.
The iron-bodied machine with numerous arms wielding various weapons stood amidst piles of insect corpses, hacking through chitin to clear a path as it searched for something.
"What's it looking for?" Dante asked the Data Artisan, pointing at the machine.
"A core device," the Data Artisan replied. "We can't upload data here. It must find another core."
Dante nodded, glancing around.
The Artisan's position was near the deck entrance—a vast, wide area. The floor wasn't even visible beneath the mounds of insect corpses. The intensity of the battle here was evident.
Silent, the machine called "Entropy" began to find and gather core devices from its fallen kin, securing them on its limbs as it walked past the Data Artisan.
The Data Artisan followed in silence.
In Dante's eyes, the Artisan appeared more like one implanted with a chip than a human.
Entropy led the group out of the wreckage, and once outside, they found a sea of flames. The Incinerator stood waiting.
Throughout the battle, it had held back the main insect forces outside the ship. Not a single insect had managed to breach the entrance where Entropy had fought. Only flames had penetrated the ship's interior.
"Mission complete," the Incinerator announced, hovering before the humans and iron warriors. "This decapitation strike has proven effective. The swarm is now in disarray."
Satisfied, Dante nodded, feeling the operation had yielded even better results than anticipated.
Baal would not face extinction.
At least, the surface was now secure, though Baal-1, Baal-2, and the bio-fleet still required attention.
"Gather together," ordered a Mourner Tech Sergeant, pulling out a teleport device to transport everyone, as they had arrived.
But the Incinerator acted first, raising a hand, and in an instant, everyone was transported thousands of kilometers, emerging in the fortress's core area.
It was only then that Dante realized the Incinerator could relocate everyone without any teleportation devices. Whatever method it used was stable and efficient.
In hindsight, they should have evacuated the moment the Brood burst forth from below—but the Mourners and others had been scattered, unable to deploy mass teleportation.
The Incinerator, as if reading Dante's thoughts, uttered a cold remark directly into his mind.
"No matter the cost, the decapitation strike had to proceed. My patience and time are limited."
"If I had entered the ship, the insects would have avoided engagement."
Hearing this, Dante refrained from further words, for what was done was done.