Otaku Translation: Carrying the Bases of Starcraft C183

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Chapter 183: The Final Battle of Krotan (Part 10)

But the chaos didn’t end there. At some point, two monstrous beasts appeared beside and —each over four meters tall, their hulking forms rivaling that of . As if to demonstrate their purpose, they spat a glob of emerald-green viscous fluid onto a group of critically wounded soldiers who had just been evacuated from the frontlines and were lying helpless in the rear trenches.

To everyone’s astonishment—including Grant, Walton, and a nearby rebel soldier slumped on the ground—the grievously injured men began to heal at an impossible speed. Within moments, limbs reknit, wounds closed, and the soldiers rose from their stretchers, looking around with bewildered expressions.

The medics stared at the towering insect-like creatures, then back at the newly healed soldiers. Their eyes held a mix of horror, realization, amazement, and relief.

Grant finally understood the origin of those . So this was it—the miraculous concoctions capable of defying death were nothing more than the saliva of these terrifying monstrosities.

It seemed the mysterious figure behind all this never ran out of tricks. Not long after the made their appearance, dozens of , each as large as a living room, emerged along the frontline. They arrayed themselves in a line, sinking deep roots into the earth like ancient trees gripping the soil.

With blinding speed, their razor-sharp spines shot forward, covering nearly a kilometer in the blink of an eye. A government soldier advancing under the protection of an "" was pierced through the chest by one of the projectiles, leaving a gaping hole where his heart should have been.

Even heavily armored vehicles weren’t spared. Ceramic composite armor crumbled like eggshells against the spines. Several "" tanks were skewered clean through, lifted into the air, and hurled into the charging infantry ranks below, crushing countless troops beneath their weight.

Then came another sight—a contingent of clad in that gleamed like sunlight. Their movements were swift and graceful, their hair whipping about like banners in the wind. Each wielded an energy sword wreathed in shimmering flames. With every swing, lives were extinguished; with every slash, vehicles were reduced to scrap metal.

Bullets ricocheted off their faintly glowing blue shields or dissolved upon impact. Grenades, rockets, even missiles failed to penetrate the thin barrier protecting them. These beings moved among the enemy ranks like gods of war, unstoppable and unyielding.

On the battlefield now raged a maelstrom of destruction: 1,000 ferocious hounds darting faster than lightning, 200 burrowing beetles tunneling beneath the surface, 50 healing behemoths tending to the wounded, 100 spine-firing insects raining death from afar, and over 300 agile alien warriors slicing through enemy lines with terrifying efficiency. Add to that marines, siege tanks, Hellion vehicles, Medivacs—and the carnage became overwhelming.

The scene was surreal. tore through steel-plated power armor with ease, ripping organs from screaming soldiers. spat acidic bile that melted men and machines alike into pools of sizzling liquid metal. unleashed needle-like projectiles that punched through infantry helmets with devastating force. And towering swung their energy swords with such precision that they dismantled entire squads of armored vehicles in seconds.

The already jittery government forces snapped under the pressure. Soldiers broke rank and fled in terror, abandoning their posts without a second thought. Junior officers froze in panic, deaf to the curses of their superiors blasting through their comms. They joined the stampede, sprinting blindly toward the rear.

, , —all had failed to break their resolve. ’ hadn’t fazed them. Even the ’s apocalyptic explosions hadn’t shaken their morale. But faced with the nightmarish visages of the zerg and the godlike presence of the , fear took hold.

Uncertainty breeds terror—and these horrors were beyond comprehension.

Grant rubbed his eyes, trying to convince himself he wasn’t dreaming. Savage swarms of killing machines, aloof and deadly warriors, and colossal flying beasts retreating into the horizon like locusts blotting out the sky—it was all too real. The screams of dying enemies and panicked shouts over the comm channel confirmed it.

“This… this… Gr-Grant…” Walton stammered, struggling to form words. “T-… is he… not human?”

Beside him, the rebel soldier who had witnessed everything sat frozen, staring blankly at the blood-soaked battlefield. After what felt like an eternity, he exhaled sharply, rolled his eyes, and muttered something absurd enough to make anyone laugh bitterly: “My sweet mother of mercy, did the director grab the wrong script? This is straight-up man vs. beast!”

---

Inside the base’s command center, , , , , and others gawked silently at the monitors showing government troops fleeing in disarray, chased mercilessly by zerglings and zealots.

The room fell silent except for the rhythmic beeping of equipment indicators. No one knew how to process what they were seeing. Grant had only given a brief warning: “Whatever you see next, don’t panic.” Then this unimaginable spectacle unfolded before their eyes.

They could almost accept the marines, siege tanks, and Viking fighters—they were familiar, tangible threats. But what were these alien creatures? Who exactly was ? An ? A monster? A ? Or something dredged up from the depths of hell itself?

“All units, stay calm,” Marion commanded, snapping out of his shock first. He leaned over the communications console and broadcasted across all frequencies. “Don’t think too much, don’t ask questions. Work alongside these unfamiliar species and push the government forces back where they came from.”

Now was the time to press their advantage and turn the tide decisively.

Missiles streaked across the sky, turrets spewing fire in every direction. The rout spread like wildfire from the east and south, while concentrated fire from the human resistance shattered the northern third legion, sending them fleeing in disgrace.

Only the western flank of the government army remained somewhat cohesive, but even they found themselves pinned down by relentless defensive fire from the base, unable to advance further.

stared grimly at the intelligence officer compiling reports on the unfolding catastrophe. His mouth tasted bitter, bile rising in his throat. Two consecutive defeats—the first excusable due to the interference of that enigmatic unit—but this second rout? An army of 200,000 supported by naval bombardments and missile bases, crushed by fewer than 20,000 rebels? It was humiliating, a stain on his career that would never fade.

Cain Rudolf wasn’t known for leniency. If word reached him of how pathetically Krotan’s defense forces had performed, Howard knew heads would roll—including his own.

“Intelligence officer,” Howard sighed wearily, “compile the battlefield data and upload it to the command center. Let Governor Aldrich decide our next move.”

For now, hope rested solely on the governor’s shoulders. Surely the commanders of the other legions would reach the same conclusion.

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