Warhammer: Rebuilding the Golden Age Starting with Farming.

The crocodile-men are heading straight for the forging world of the Valancius dynasty!

"Immediately contact Defense Command," Theodora swiftly ordered, "and request the orbital defense platforms to provide fire support."

"Sir! Communication is being disrupted by strong electromagnetic interference and the connection cannot be established!"

The communications officer was sweating profusely with anxiety.

Not only communications, but even the positioning beacons inside the galaxy have begun to drift severely.

It seems the crocodile-men came prepared, having already deployed a large-scale electromagnetic suppression network as they stormed in.

“We can’t fight head-on, sir.” Abelard stepped forward and advised in a deep voice, “The ‘Proud of Destiny’ is just a frigate; it can’t take on a heavy cruiser head-on.”

"We should immediately initiate an emergency warp and disengage from the battlefield."

Theodora glanced at him.

run away?

Above his own forged world, he was chased and beaten by aliens, and then ran away with his tail between his legs like a stray dog.

If word gets out, what will become of the Valancius dynasty's reputation!

That old dog Joan Quinn will laugh at her for the rest of her life!

“If I leave now, 'Kiava Gama' is finished.”

"We should teach these beasts a lesson."

"Pass on my order: switch all ship propulsion to combat mode!"

"Main gun charging!"

"Activate the newly installed fire control system!"

The technical priests responsible for maintaining the macro-cannon array immediately entered the Deep Space Industries' unique identification code into the Thinker terminal.

"Om-!"

A dull hum of machinery echoed below deck.

"Sir, the enemy ship has entered the maximum firing range of the heavy guns!" the radar officer shouted.

"Target locked." Theodora calmly looked at the projection. "Prioritize that heavy cruiser."

"Fire!"

The bridge trembled slightly.

"Click!"

“Bang bang bang bang bang—!”

"Click!"

“Bang bang bang bang bang—!”

One after another, solid cannonballs hurtled toward the crocodile-man fleet with incredible initial velocity.

In Theodora's vision.

Using a macro cannon to fire at such a long distance would definitely result in a very poor hit rate.

Basically, it all depends on whether the God Emperor and the Machine Soul exert their full strength...

Even if only one shot hits, it's enough to disrupt the crocodile's formation and give their side more tactical flexibility.

however.

The next scene shocked everyone on the bridge.

Even Theodora himself gasped in surprise.

The shells did not spread out in a huge fan shape as usual.

Instead, it's like a precise death chain.

The rain relentlessly pounded on the electromagnetic shield of the "Punk-class" heavy cruiser!

"Boom—! Boom—! Boom—!"

Blinding plasma sparks erupted from the surface of the shield.

The impact point of each shell is within the millisecond range!

"This……"

Abelard's old eyes were wide open, and even his beard was trembling.

"That shooting accuracy and reloading speed..."

Seriously??

An old frigate actually unleashed battleship-level firepower?!

The shells seemed to have eyes, requiring no secondary calibration from the technical priest.

The automated loading machine was running at high speed.

There were no laborers pulling chains, no screams of agony from whips.

Only the meshing of precision gears and the roar of high-pressure pneumatic actuators could be heard.

Less than five minutes!

"boom!"

With a final muffled thud.

The “punk-class” electromagnetic shield overloaded after being subjected to high-frequency attacks far exceeding its design limits.

As the shield collapsed, several shells, unable to deflect in time, slammed solidly into the heavy cruiser's bow armor.

The explosion tore a large hole in the armor plate, and the plasma flashes were clearly visible.

The crocodile man was clearly stunned by the attack.

They probably never expected that the small boat opposite them would be hiding such fierce firepower!

They came here to take advantage of the chaos, and they'll run away faster than anyone else if things turn bad.

Before the "Proud of Destiny" could launch a second salvo, the heavy cruiser interrupted its subsequent attack sequence and urgently overloaded its engines.

With a violent spatial fluctuation, the heavy cruiser, along with its escort fleet, jumped into the subspace in a sorry state.

The crocodile man escaped.

Everyone stared at the empty radar, their brains still a little overloaded.

At once……

Is that all?

Theodora is now experiencing a delusion.

She felt that the bridge deck beneath her feet belonged to a "Nemesis-class" battleship.

Theodora touched the metal cable on her cheek.

My heart is still pounding.

Chapter 436 Psionicists Must Ban the Hammer

Friday.

The office of the merchant ronin aboard the "Sun Lord".

Virtual Port.

Theodora von Valancieus stepped off the diving board and took a deep breath of the air.

It has a mixture of preservative fragrances and ozone.

This "freshness" is barely achieved by filtering out countless large air purification and circulation arrays operating around the clock.

Inside the port, the scene remained bustling with activity.

Starships of all sizes filled the berths, and shuttles of various paint schemes shuttled back and forth.

Theodora glanced over at it.

Compared to the previous times, this setup was still a bit lacking.

Including this session, the peak in the number of participants in the last four general meetings of traveling merchants was probably the one before last.

That time, the stadium was truly packed.

All the major privateering groups, fringe ronin, and even some big compradors who are usually rarely seen have all flocked to the Voidport.

The reason was simple: after Deep Space Industries obtained the license, that meeting happened to be their second "official" meeting.

Everyone came for that heretical, powerful, and unfathomable "Great Sage in Yellow Robes".

Many people have privately prepared generous gift lists and business proposals, just waiting to take a big bite out of Deep Space Industries.

It's kind of funny, really.

Why not the time before last, that is, the time right after Deep Space Industries got its license?

Because at that time, Deep Space Industries had not yet made a name for itself.

Those who were amazed by their exported products were mainly Hacker Aguirre and his gang of fringe wanderers.

Those struggling at the very bottom of society have very limited funds and can never afford to buy genuine, high-end products from mechanical engineering schools.

Therefore, they treat deep space industry like a treasure, praising it to the skies within the industry.

However, the real Great Ronin dynasties and large privateering groups at that time were very conservative in their attitude towards these newcomers.

What? Goods from an unknown source?

Or was it created by a group of technocrats who had no formal diplomatic channels and whose territories were tightly closed?

What if it's a substandard refurbished part? What if it has a backdoor?

So, apart from a few pioneers who had spare money to explore the way,

Most of the big shots were observing at that time.

It wasn't until several months later, when more and more high-quality, outrageous equipment began to flow out of the Deep Space Industry.

Even someone as arrogant as Winster has started subtly placing large orders.

The traveling merchants and wanderers finally panicked and realized what was happening.

Damn it, that's a billion dollars over!

This technologically advanced company not only uses high-quality materials, but also boasts extremely stable production capacity!

So, at the last general meeting, everyone put in their best effort.

We eagerly await it.

We're just waiting for that mysterious leader from Deep Space Industries to show up and hold a grand investment promotion conference for the entire star region.

result.

Deep Space Industries didn't come.

After three consecutive meetings, they seemed to have vanished into thin air.

That large, backless chair, symbolizing the seat in the deep space industry, has been empty next to the round table for almost a year!

Such an arrogant attitude greatly dampened the enthusiasm of the ronin.

Everyone is busy, who has the time to wait here every day for a pigeon spirit who never shows up?

By this year's session, many major powers and ocean trading groups simply cancelled their attendance plans and went about their own business.

Only a few guys who still harbored a sliver of wishful thinking remained squatting here.

What if?

What if they come this time?

However, aside from squatting in the deep space industry.