I Am The Swarm

In truth, there was no way to worry about side effects. The casualty rate of the Sky Strikers far surpassed that of their older versions. The previous Flying Kamikaze Bugs had targeted flesh-and-blood creatures, and there was at least some chance of survival after impact. However, the Sky Strikers’ opponents now were armored steel constructs, and each attack was essentially a one-way mission.

To maximize the impact force, the original keratin impact heads had been reinforced with a metallic layer. By incorporating techniques derived from the metallic crust of Planet Botian, the Swarm had made significant advancements in materials science.

This metallic layer enhanced the Sky Strikers’ ability to pierce enemy armor, maximizing the destructive power of their kinetic attacks.

The small radars onboard the Daqi vessels couldn’t detect the new Storm God at all. It wasn’t until the Sky Strikers launched off the Storm God’s back, exiting its cloaking field, that the radars finally registered movement.

But the Sky Strikers were simply too fast. A distance of over a thousand meters was crossed in an instant, leaving the Daqi no time to react.

A total of nine airships were targeted, and seven of them were obliterated mid-air. The powerful kinetic collisions shattered the ships into fragments, as the Sky Strikers used their very lives to display the pinnacle of destructive elegance.

“Where did they come from?!”

The two surviving gunships were only spared due to their stronger armor and greater maneuverability compared to the transport ships. The moment the radar picked up the Sky Strikers, the experienced commanders gave the order to evade—before they even had time to identify what was attacking them.@@novelbin@@

Once the Sky Strikers locked onto their targets and reached their terrifying speeds, they became incapable of precise directional changes. This flaw allowed the two gunships to narrowly escape, as the Sky Strikers only grazed them instead of landing direct hits.

“Pull us higher!” The situation was critical. Maintaining or lowering altitude would only invite the next wave of attacks. Landing on the surface would eliminate their speed advantage and lead to certain death.

The only option left was to climb to a higher altitude. The shipboard computers had already calculated the origin of the attacks. If they could ascend beyond the attackers’ reach, they had a chance to evade further strikes and possibly escape.

However, this maneuver was extremely dangerous. Ascending meant a continuous drop in temperature, which would test the endurance of the soldiers aboard.

Moreover, the structural integrity of the gunships had already been compromised. There was a real risk that the vessels might disintegrate mid-air. Continuing to fly was a direct threat to the ships themselves.

But the Daqi commanders had no other choice. This was the only option with even the slimmest chance of survival.

The gunships performed admirably. As they ascended rapidly, the ships shuddered violently, but there were no signs of immediate structural failure. Soon, they had climbed high enough to surpass the invisible Storm Gods and were pushing toward higher altitudes.

The Storm Gods did not follow the gunships. The Sky Strikers were independent units, and there were no issues with attack intervals. While the Daqi gunships ascended, the Sky Strikers still had the capacity to launch at least two more waves of attacks.

However, the Sky Strikers did not pursue. This operation was part of a weapon-testing experiment designed to build a collaborative combat system. Any threats at higher altitudes would be left to other Swarm units.

Above this altitude lay the territory of the Swarm’s primary combat species—the Space Octopuses. Due to their unique physiology, the ground and low-altitude regions were as impassable to them as walls or swamps. This was why the new Storm Gods served as an aerial platform to bridge the gap for low-altitude operations.

In the vastness of the higher atmosphere, the true power of the Swarm was ready to be unleashed.

Now, the Daqi gunships had flown straight into a trap—proving the saying, “There’s no gate to hell, yet you’ve barged right in.”

The close-combat prowess of the Space Octopuses had been tested and proven through countless wars. Any fighters or warships that got within their range never met a good end, let alone the gunships, which were inferior in both defensive capabilities and maneuverability.

In the high-altitude sky, two brilliant sparks exploded. But with the cloud cover, nothing could be seen from the ground.

With this, all airborne units from the Daqi underground base were wiped out. Twenty minutes later, the ground vehicle battalion that had broken out from the base was also annihilated. 𝖗аNÒᛒЕS

Thus, the experimental combat operation for this base was complete.

Similar scenarios played out across other bases on Daqi Planet. The Swarm tested a vast array of experimental species, gathering immense amounts of data. Luo Wen now understood which units had flaws, which ones were worth further modification, and which ones held no practical value in real combat.

Years later, the space fleets encircling Daqi Planet departed to the stars near-orbit to replenish their energy. After many years, the Daqi Planet once again appeared on the Interstellar Technological Confederation’s radar.

However, the planet had transformed into a purple-gray ocean, its surface a vast and lifeless mass. From space, there was no trace of the events that had unfolded over the past few years. The Confederation attempted to send reconnaissance teams to infiltrate the Daqi Planet and search for clues.

But these reconnaissance personnel disappeared like stones thrown into a well—never to return, not even a whisper of news.

Gradually, the Interstellar Confederation abandoned further investigations. They assumed that, even in several years, the Swarm wouldn’t be capable of creating anything significant.

Both sides fell into a temporary calm. The Swarm entered a period of recuperation, with massive reinforcements pouring from the rear star systems to the front lines, consolidating the territories they had conquered.

On the Confederation’s side, production and deployment of military forces continued non-stop, day and night.

As both sides amassed increasingly larger forces, the atmosphere grew heavier and more tense.

“The Swarm’s forces in the newly occupied zones have reached their critical mass. Based on their patterns and behavior, war is about to start again.”

“So, what’s our strategy this time? Do we hold the line like last time, or go on the offensive?”

“What are your opinions?”

“We’ve stockpiled close to a hundred million warships at the front lines. If the Swarm invades again, we now have the strength to say no.”

“The warship numbers are still too low. I believe we should err on the side of caution.”

“I agree with that view. If the Swarm attacks with the usual one to two hundred million units, then we do have the strength to resist. But our intelligence has become too outdated—no one knows how many reinforcements the Swarm has hidden across those front-line star systems. If our warships get pinned down, their reinforcement speed will outpace ours. If we lose those ships, we’ll end up even more passive.”

“What’s there to be afraid of? In a few years, the middle-circle civilizations’ vanguard forces will arrive. Then it’ll be anyone’s guess who wins this war. If we keep retreating and contributing nothing, how will we claim any benefits in the future?”

“That makes sense. Besides, our situation is different from the Koya Alliance. They’ve already betrayed their allies once, and their reputation is in tatters. It doesn’t matter if they retreat again. But we are different. Last time, we could say the territory we gave up was a disputed zone. If we back off again, we’ll become a laughingstock.”

“Alright then, let’s vote.”