Kilsager and Chat Groups

Chapter 311 First Battle

The Fortress Eagle, like a steel behemoth, took to the air once more with a roar.

Beneath its wings and nose, plasma clusters and beams of light rained down, carving out crimson or azure lines across the clone army's positions.

Under the bombardment of the Fortress Eagles, smoke and dust filled the air, flames soared into the sky, and the clone army's defenses were instantly torn apart.

As the Fortress Eagle soared through the sky, the Galactic Empire officer took a deep breath, a surge of pride welling up within him.

He shouted to the Galactic Empire soldiers preparing to attack: "For the Empire! Forward!"

Following the officer's order, the remaining armored vehicles began to advance.

These armored vehicles, like a herd of steel behemoths, roared forward.

Their cannons gleamed with a deadly light, casting a shadow of death over everything in their path.

At the same time, the XV8 combat suit flew at low altitude, swarming towards the clone army's position like a moth.

They nimbly weaved through the hail of bullets, suppressing the enemy with overwhelming firepower.

Despite the Galactic Empire's fierce attack, the clone commander remained completely calm.

He quickly directed the clone soldiers to reorganize their formation and solidify the defensive line again.

Seeing the Galactic Empire's army surging in like a tidal wave, a resolute glint flashed in his eyes, and he ordered the soldiers on the front lines: "Attack!"

The clones emerged from the bunker in single file, their steps perfectly synchronized, their weapons gleaming coldly.

Despite the air attack, their combat capabilities were not significantly affected.

Under the cover of armored vehicles, the clone soldiers swept towards the Galactic Empire's positions like a black torrent.

Both sides launched their attacks simultaneously, and the battlefield was soon filled with shouts of battle and smoke.

Both the clone commander and the Galactic Empire officer couldn't help but wonder why the other side would launch an attack at this moment. However, in this tense situation, they had no time to think about it and could only concentrate on commanding their troops to fight the enemy to the death.

While the two were still puzzled, Griffith and Palpatine, each with their own personal guards, quietly made their way towards the other's position.

Palpatine, lightsaber in hand, walked steadily at the head of the group, his figure standing out conspicuously in the darkness.

Suddenly, a strange feeling welled up in his heart, as if some danger was approaching.

Palpatine stopped, closed his eyes, and focused his mind, using the Force to perceive his surroundings.

Soon, he noticed some unusual energy fluctuations not far ahead, fluctuations that clearly did not belong to his team.

Palpatine's lips curled up slightly, revealing a barely perceptible smile.

He immediately understood the other party's intention; they were clearly also planning a decapitation strike, aiming to eliminate him, the supreme commander, in one fell swoop.

"Get ready," Palpatine whispered to the soldiers behind him. "They're also thinking of decapitation."

Although his voice was not loud, it was clearly audible in the quiet environment.

After saying that, Palpatine lit up his lightsaber without hesitation, and instantly, a dazzling red light pierced the darkness.

At the same time, the dark side of his primal force surged like a raging wave, and the powerful energy made the surrounding air seem heavy.

This undisguised behavior naturally attracted the attention of the enemy, whose leader, Griffith, quickly discovered Palpatine's actions.

He quickly drew his lightsaber and signaled to his personal guards behind him to prepare for battle.

“It seems your new master has repaired your body,” Palpatine said, a hint of disdain in his eyes, looking at Griffith. “However, that doesn’t mean you’re capable of fighting me.”

Palpatine's lightsaber left a crimson mark on the ground, as if in defiance of Grievous.

Then, he slowly raised his lightsaber, the tip pointing directly at Grievous, radiating a chilling killing intent.

"Do you have enough ability, apprentice?" Palpatine's voice was cold and mocking. "How much confidence did your new master give you to dare to challenge me?"

Greaves was not provoked by Palpatine's provocation.

He calmly looked at Palpatine, the lightsaber in his hand emitting a purple light that illuminated the surrounding darkness.

“I have a good enough understanding of myself,” Griffiths said. “I know my own strength, and this war will end as long as you die here.”

"You?" Palpatine's lips curled into a disdainful smile, his gaze as sharp as a hawk's as he stared intently at the guards beside Griffith.

In his eyes, these so-called elite soldiers were nothing more than a bunch of vulnerable ants.

“You will understand.” Griffith’s face was ashen. He gripped the lightsaber tightly, the blade trembling slightly as if echoing the anger in his heart.

As he moved, the Khorne cans on either side tensed up as if facing a formidable enemy, while the red-letter mage behind him stood in a mysterious and eerie pentagram formation, gathering his power together.

Seeing this, Palpatine's smile became even more mocking.

He slowly lowered his body, his muscles tensing under the force of the Force, like a beast about to pounce on its prey.

Suddenly, he spun around violently, sweeping towards Griffith like a whirlwind.

In an instant, the crimson lightsaber ripped through the void like lightning, heading straight for Griffith. Seeing this, Griffith dared not be careless in the slightest. He quickly raised his own lightsaber, and the purple blade of light drew an arc in the air, barely deflecting Palpatine's lightsaber.

"Drink!" Palpatine roared, his voice booming through the air like thunder.

At the same time, his lightsaber, like a venomous snake emerging from its hole, stabbed at Griffith once more.

This attack was extremely fast and at a tricky angle, leaving no room for evasion.

However, Grievous reacted just as quickly. With a flick of his wrist, his lightsaber arced through the air, striking Palpatine's lightsaber precisely and deflecting it once more.

Then, without hesitation, he leaped backward, creating some distance between himself and Palpatine.

Palpatine missed his target, but he did not give up.

He pressed his advantage relentlessly, relentlessly pursuing Griffith with his lightsaber like a storm.

As Griffith retreated, he brandished his lightsaber, desperately trying to block Palpatine's relentless attacks.

Each of his sword swings seemed somewhat hasty, because Palpatine's attacks were so fast and fierce that he had no time to think about how to launch an effective counterattack.

Although Grievous was not skilled in swordsmanship and was far inferior to Palpatine in terms of control and understanding of the Force, he still persisted.

However, as time went on, he gradually felt his physical strength and Force being constantly depleted, while Palpatine's attacks showed no signs of abating.

Just as Griffiths was struggling to hold on, he suddenly heard a commotion coming from the side.

He turned his head and saw that Khorne had successfully defeated the Red Guards brought by Palpatine, and the five mysterious red-letter mages were also working hard to complete their spell array.

As the magic circle gradually took shape, a cold aura began to flow out from within, as if to freeze everything around it.