I am the Emperor of Humanity across the Multiverse

Carrier-based aircraft squadron?

Hearing the reminder from a pilot named Haviroll Noreen over the communications channel, Jens instinctively raised his head.

Whoosh—whoosh—!!

Immediately, he saw a squadron consisting of four Whiteleg Falcons and more than a dozen unmanned fighter jets swiftly pass overhead.

Seeing this, Jens quickly moved to the edge of the bunker, peeked toward the area where the Reaper forces were concentrated, and faintly saw the aircraft deploying their bomb bays. They then dropped a large number of bombs in a uniform pattern.

Boom~! Boom~!

These bombs exploded just before hitting the ground, scattering into numerous small fragments, greatly increasing their coverage.

At this moment—

Ri~—whizz~—!!

Countless miniature suns began to rise amidst the masses of Reaper soldier ants.

Boom~————!!

Each miniature sun unleashed the explosive power of at least a thousand tons of TNT.

The expanding, superheated fireballs instantly vaporized the Reaper ants within and around the blast zone.

The violent shockwaves generated by the explosions easily shredded through the biological protective suits of the soldier ants, scattering their frail bodies, which had little ability to move or fight.

In just a few seconds, the carpet-style nuclear bombing carried out by the airborne squadron resolved the impasse that had surrounded the strike force.

Whoosh~————!!

At this moment, the now-harmless blast wave finally reached Jens and the others.

Looking at the swiftly dissipating nuclear fireballs in the distance and the small mushroom clouds that symbolized the lingering aftermath, the veteran was momentarily stunned. But he quickly came to his senses, raised his commander-class BFG plasma rifle high, and shouted in excitement:

"F***!! This feels amazing!! Hahaha!! Air units always deliver!!"

"This is Captain Haviroll Noreen. We hope all of you will give this bombing service a five-star rating. Over and out."

At the same time, Haviroll responded in a timely manner, flying his Whiteleg Falcon over Jens and the others once more, leading the squadron towards a breach in the distance.

It appeared that the squadron, having exhausted its ammunition, was preparing to return to the Dawn ship outside the Reaper mothership for resupply.

Jens understood that since the fleet's carrier-based aircraft could appear inside the mothership to provide fire support, it meant the tech engineers had successfully seized control.

The tide of the battle had immediately turned.

Jens refocused on his helmet display, confirming that Fogrim, Leman, Angron, Maggie Shaw, and the others who had charged into the enemy forces were unharmed and still fighting. He then issued orders to his subordinates:

"Everyone who can still move, charge! Beat those bug-loving bastards until they crap themselves!"

With that, Jens led the charge, leaving the cover of the bunker.

"Oo-rah!!"

The elite AECS special forces, both those in good condition and those with light injuries, let out a collective battle cry, joining their commander in the counterattack.

Meanwhile.

On the outskirts of the Reaper mothership's orbital space, the Atlas Fleet was also launching a one-sided counteroffensive.

The attackers, who had previously swarmed like mad hornets, now flew around aimlessly like "headless flies," posing no effective threat and being continuously shot down by the 120mm three-barreled close-in defense cannons firing at a rate of 20,000 rounds per minute.

On the Dawn ship's bridge:

"Captain! We've confirmed that the engineering team has disabled all of the target's fire control systems and taken full control of the ship."

"Captain Noreen and his team are returning for resupply and are expected to be ready to re-enter the target within nine minutes to continue providing fire support to our armed units."

"."

Hearing the good news, Captain Sean Reese, sitting in the command seat, showed no signs of joy. His gaze never left the holographic screen before him.

After a few moments of silence, Sean Reese asked, "What's our ship's status? And what about personnel casualties?"

The first officer, responsible for this task, glanced at the control panel before turning to face the captain. His tone was somewhat heavy as he reported:

"The hull integrity is down to 63%. One nuclear fusion engine has been damaged, and the repair team is working on it urgently. As for personnel losses..."

The first officer paused for a moment, then said, "While different departments are still gathering data, based on the current intelligence, the personnel losses will definitely exceed 20%.

If we include the heavily hit strike forces, that number could rise to somewhere between 35% and 40%."

Thirty-five to forty percent.

Sean Reese's expression became even more solemn.

Calming his emotions, the captain issued another order: "Remind the other captains that our carrier-based squadrons are undergoing resupply and won't be able to cover the pressure gap for a while. They must dispatch another squadron or more to provide fire support for our ground units inside the target. We need to force out that Reaper Queen hiding in the fortress as soon as possible.

Only by eliminating her can we bring an end to this interception mission."

"Yes, sir!"

However, before the communications officer could relay Sean Reese's orders, two carrier-based squadrons appeared in everyone's line of sight, heading towards the breach in the mothership.

It seemed the other captains had already timed it perfectly and dispatched their squadrons to fill the firepower gap without needing a reminder.

With the fleet and strike forces under less pressure, Saint Gilles, half-squatting inside the troop bay of the Seagull assault craft, patiently waited.

Through real-time data displayed on the holographic screen, he too learned that the company employees participating in the interception mission had suffered a casualty rate of around 35% to 40%.

Although he felt some anger, as someone who had been taught by his father from a young age, he wouldn't let it cloud his judgment or actions.

Suddenly, Saint Gilles sensed that the Seagull, which should have been flying steadily, was now descending. He knew that the Reaper Queen, despite her powerful individual energy shield, had finally left her fortress, driven by her survival instincts.

Of course, Saint Gilles couldn't accurately judge the Queen's personality, and calling her "cowardly" was just a label he put on her.

After all, the Queen was responsible for the survival of 3 billion Reapers, so hiding in the fortress was a very sound strategy.

As the Seagull accelerated, the side doors slowly opened, and the air inside the troop bay became "alive" with activity.

"Commander, 20 seconds to target. Please be ready," the pilot reminded him via communications.

"Understood."

Saint Gilles responded as he half-crouched, moving toward the right side of the troop bay.

After silently counting for a few seconds, the Primarch—who by age was the eldest son of Samuel Young—suddenly leaped from the Seagull assault craft.

Immediately—

Whoosh—whoosh—!

His white wings flapped rhythmically, allowing him to stay airborne.

As soon as he adjusted his angle, Saint Gilles put all his strength into hurling the Imperial Spear downward.

Whizz—!!

The spear pierced through the air with a piercing roar.

Boom—!!

The spear ignited into roaring flames, tracing a golden arc through the sky.

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