The humans' firepower network was like a candle in a storm, each flicker signaling another area engulfed by the swarm.

In the distance, several massive "Destroyers," resembling mobile turrets, were slowly adjusting their angles. The nauseating fleshy cannon mouths on their backs began to gather an eerie green glow, targeting the last main fortress still spewing fire.

"It's over... all over..." Malcolm felt cold inside.

He wasn't afraid of death; from the moment he donned his uniform, he'd been prepared to sacrifice himself at any moment.

But he was unwilling, unwilling to be submerged meaninglessly in the sea of bugs, unwilling to let everything he guarded become the Bug Race's nourishment.

At this moment, his damaged armor sensors captured the piercing sound of objects tearing through the air from high above!

The sound grew nearer, louder!

"An airstrike?" A ridiculous thought flashed through Malcolm's mind.

Star Alliance's orbital support had long been cut off, and the Bug Race would never use this form of attack.

In the next moment, several streamlined metallic creations with blazing tails plummeted like meteors into the most densely packed area of the swarm, just two hundred meters ahead of the defense line!

"Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!"

The immense shockwave directly shattered and flung away large numbers of bug units!

The scorching heatwave and metal fragments swept across the battlefield, the bunkers shaking violently and shedding dust.

Before the smoke and dust had even dispersed, Malcolm and all remaining defenders witnessed a scene they'll never forget——

Those "meteors" were human-shaped mechas of various designs, all exuding an icy aura of slaughter!

They were half-kneeling at the center of the impact craters, the temporary camouflage on their surfaces slightly curling in the heat, revealing blue-white or dark coatings underneath.

One sleek, streamlined blue mecha, seeming to have a faint outline of light wings on its back, was the first to rise, holding a long blade emanating gold-white light.

Without any hesitation or observation of the battlefield, this mecha shot out like an arrow released from a bow!

Its speed was so fast that it left afterimages on the retina, and every swing of its long blade brought forth a condensed light.

Along its path, whether common thorn snakes or the heavy raiders, were effortlessly cut through and shattered like paper!

Several other mechas followed suit, each displaying their talents: a deep-blue painted, silent-moving mecha traversed the bug swarm like a phantom, targeting units attempting to flank or launch long-range attacks.

A mecha with a massive sniper rifle on its shoulder executed precise shots from a relatively safe distance, each bullet inevitably detonating a "Destroyer's" acid sack or Spiritual Energy node.

A burly mecha wielding heavy weaponry acted like a mobile fortress, sweeping through large swaths of bug infantry with ferocious firepower...

Their coordination was flawless, actions clean and efficient to an astonishing degree.

The previously death-like wave of Bug Race troops was forcibly halted by these suddenly arriving mechas, even starting to retreat!

"What... what is that?" a young soldier muttered behind a shooting port.

"Reinforcements? Star Alliance reinforcements are here?!" another voice cried out, full of tears and joy.

Malcolm struggled to stand up, rushed to the observation port, and stared intently at the few unfamiliar mechas fighting like War Gods outside.

His heart raced, his long-cooled blood seemed to boil anew.

He couldn't recognize these mechas' models, but they were undoubtedly humanity's top mechas and mech pilots!

The absolute control over the battlefield, the fluid artistry of slaughter, he'd only seen in the most extravagant promotional footage.

The battle didn't last long.

Under the thunderous strike of the White Calamity Squad, the bug forces attacking the defense line were soon wiped out, leaving only scattered limbs and burning fungal mats.

That blue leading mecha, having dealt with the last fleeing raider, turned and walked steadily towards Malcolm's bunker.

It paused in front of the damaged alloy door, bent down, and extended a massive mechanical hand towards the bunker entrance—a clear gesture of friendliness and rescue.

Malcolm took a deep breath, gestured to his men not to fire, and opened the twisted and deformed hatch, stepping outside.

Standing beneath the ten-meter-tall steel giant, he straightened his injured body and looked up at the mecha's sensor-laden head.

"Are you... reinforcements from the Star Alliance?" Malcolm's voice came through the external speakers of his powered armor, hoarse and urgent from the aftermath of survival.

A calm and clear male voice came from the blue mecha's speakers, carrying a peculiar reassuring power.

"New Bauhinia Republic, special task force. Passing by here, detected your combat signal. What's your situation? How many survivors? Do you need immediate evacuation?"

"New Bauhinia?" Malcolm was momentarily stunned; he had never heard of this faction, but it didn't matter now.

"I'm Malcolm Red, sergeant of the Third Company, Seventh Mine District Garrison Regiment, Jade Stone Star Planet Defense Army. Thank you for your rescue! We... have about thirty people left, most wounded. Ammunition is nearly depleted, vehicles destroyed. Rear communication is severed, evacuation status unknown. What mission are you on? Can you help us leave?"

"We have another mission to fulfill, can't stay long, or carry large personnel." Bai E's voice came through, calm but not unfeeling.

"However, we can clear a relatively safe path for you and provide coordinates directing you to the nearest potential Star Alliance assembly point or evacuation center. 'Ash,' retrieve the latest evacuation routes and possible safe house information from the Traveler's data in this area and sync them to Sergeant." Bai E said, his voice transmitting cold, hard reality yet not without empathy.

"Yes!" a voice responded through the mecha's communications.

Soon, Malcolm's powered armor tactical computer received a concise route map and several coordinates, along with a rough prediction of nearby Bug Race activity.

"Follow this route, avoid marked red zones. We'll clear the main bug obstacles along the way. Hurry; the Bug Race might send reinforcements." Bai E said, while the other mechas began moving, clearing the evacuation path.

Malcolm felt a surge of complex emotions, a mix of relief at being saved and gratitude and curiosity towards these mysterious and powerful "passersby."

"Thank you... really, thank you! May the light of humanity protect you!"

"Likewise." Bai E responded briefly, then asked, "Sergeant, while you've been fighting here, have you observed any unusual activity in the nearby sea, especially in the direction of the 'CT-7' trench? Any unusual energy fluctuations, Bug Race activity unusually frequent, or... special structures or lights underwater?"

Malcolm tried to recall and nodded affirmatively: "Yes! About four days ago, we were still receiving some long-range sensor data. The 'CT-7' trench direction did detect intense, unnatural geological energy fluctuations, and the Bug Race flying units were entering and exiting more frequently in that direction than others. We guessed they might be establishing a significant nest or command node there, but we soon lost contact with the main defense line, and the subsequent situation is unclear."

This intelligence highly matched the Traveler's data and mission objectives.

Bai E felt a sense of clarity.

"This intel is very useful. Good luck, Sergeant. Hurry with your evacuation."

The blue mecha nodded, then turned to regroup with the other mechas, swiftly and silently activating propellers, skimming low over the scarred battlefield towards the distant blue ocean, quickly disappearing into the shadows of hills and smoke.

Malcolm stood rooted, gazing in the mechas' direction, motionless for a long time.

Only when his subordinates urged him did he return to his senses, looking at the tactical computer's route map, taking a deep breath.

"Everyone, if you can move, take the wounded and usable equipment, follow the route I give you, we're evacuating!" he ordered loudly, his voice reinvigorated with strength.

Although he didn't know what New Bauhinia was or what dangerous mission those powerful mech pilots were undertaking, Malcolm knew they survived today thanks to these people's whim and thunderous methods.

This favor, he's committed to memory.