"They dodged it? How is that possible?"
Not far away, Gilbert, who had just pressed the firing button, exclaimed in shock as he watched the footage on his phone.
With remote assistance from the Deathbirth Star, he could monitor the Nightmare Star's movements at night.
An instant before the Space-Based Wave Cannon fired, the ship had used the strange Jet Propulsion Device at its stern to leap dozens of meters away, dodging the strike.
That was also why the Wave Cannon had failed to inflict even limited damage, and had not even killed the primary target standing on deck.
On the screen was a tall, powerfully built Bald Werewolf, viscous flames burning in the wounds across his body and constantly dripping to the ground.
He looked up at the sky, his right eye scarlet and cold, while three eyeballs crowded together in his left eye socket, as though he were staring straight at Gilbert through the screen.
"What the hell is this thing? Can he actually see me?"
Gilbert wiped the sweat from his forehead through his mask and ordered all ships to converge and surround the vessel.
Thirty minutes remained before the Wave Cannon finished cooling down and charging.
There were still three hours until dawn.
The Deathbirth Society had delayed daybreak, but could only delay it by three hours at most, leaving roughly five more opportunities to fire the Space-Based Wave Cannon.
If those five shots all failed to eliminate the target, things would become troublesome.
After dawn, the vast majority of the Deathbirth Star's energy had to go toward releasing gamma rays to reduce the transmissibility of the Death Plague, leaving no spare capacity to use the Wave Cannon.
Only at night, during maintenance on the Deathbirth Star, could they divert a limited amount of energy to