Chapter 25: The Fierce Universe, Section 1

Accompanying the red lights was a low hum, which quickly pulled Marshal Wick back to reality from his state of extreme excitement. Upon seeing those blood-red lights, his expression changed instantly. Without even taking the time to ask his adjutant Saka about the battlefield situation, he simply waved his hand.

The lights in the room flared brightly. The four walls around him rose simultaneously, revealing square crystals behind them. On each crystal was an anxious face, which began shouting frantically as soon as they saw Marshal Wick had connected.

“What!? The third, seventh, twelfth, and twenty-seventh star systems have all been attacked by unknown giant warships!?” Marshal Wick let out a shriek and jumped up abruptly.

A wave of intense fear overwhelmed him. At this moment, he almost thought the end of the world had arrived. He stared blankly at the anxious faces around him, who continued to report updates, feeling increasingly desperate.

It was premeditated…
This was a planned invasion!!
The Moors, just as Blackhair had said, were indeed the most terrifying race in this universe! The reconnaissance ships that had appeared occasionally before were merely scouts sent to gather information about human society. But this time, they were definitely serious. He had witnessed that battle with his own eyes—just one warship had cost the human fleet nearly a hundred ships as sacrifices. Now, with such a massive invasion, what could possibly happen?

What… what should he do?

Extreme anxiety surged through Marshal Wick’s heart. The white-haired old man became as restless as an ant on a hot pan, pacing back and forth in the room. The voices from the crystals grew louder and noisier, driving him crazy.

Right, Blackhair… Blackhair must know about this. That demon-like man would never stand by idly. Marshal Wick stopped in his tracks abruptly, his aged face contorted in distress.

Although he and Blackhair were now allies, and their relationship was in its honeymoon phase, he knew very well what kind of person Blackhair was. He was someone who never suffered losses. Since the development of the Thirty-One Star Systems, everyone and everything that had underestimated him had paid a price. What would he have to sacrifice this time if he asked Blackhair to intervene?

Marshal Wick didn’t know, but he had no other choice. In his desperation, he immediately cut off communications with the other star systems and contacted Blackhair directly. Looking at the familiar lazy face on the crystal, he recounted everything that had happened here in detail. Finally, he added seriously:

“Mr. Blackhair, this attack came suddenly. Though I can mobilize the entire power of the Interstellar Fleet for a counterattack, the outcome is uncertain. To prevent the situation from worsening, you must help me.” As he spoke, Marshal Wick showed a hint of reluctance on his face.

Once, the most powerful military force of humanity, a great force that had conquered countless worlds—the Interstellar Fleet—was now asking for help? It was utterly ridiculous. Yet Marshal Wick couldn’t laugh.

He had witnessed the terrifying strength of the Moors firsthand. Just one warship had caused such massive damage, and it took two fleets working together to defeat it. These newly appeared warships were even more difficult to deal with. In the entire universe, if strength was considered, perhaps only the Blood Wolves, known for their madness, could help them now.

What he didn’t expect was that Blackhair, who was usually known for being difficult to deal with, was surprisingly decisive. As soon as he heard about the appearance of the Moors, he made his decision right away.

“Give me their coordinates. There are four star systems—I’ll take two, and you handle the rest.” Blackhair crossed his legs in a carefree manner, but the sharpness in his eyes was like a blade, even making the usually composed Marshal Wick feel uneasy.

“Ah. Thank you very much for your help, Lord Blackhair. But there’s one thing I must warn you about in advance. The warships that have appeared this time are not like the ones before; their power is far too great. Please don’t take them lightly. If our mistakes cause you to suffer huge losses, I believe no one would want that.” Marshal Wick forced a smile and nodded slightly at Blackhair.

Unfortunately, this seemingly friendly gesture didn’t gain Blackhair’s approval. He simply smiled and said something that nearly shocked Marshal Wick.

“I know how powerful they are and believe I can deal with them. But it’s you who needs to be warned, Marshal Wick. Get ready. This war has just begun…”

Click. The communication was cut off.

Marshal Wick was stunned.

Blackhair was indeed fast. Less than half an hour after receiving the coordinates, dark clouds gathered over Death Star. Massive warships roared as they soared into the sky, tearing apart the beautiful sunset over Death Star. The immense pressure of war instantly enveloped the entire planet.

However, compared to the tense situation under the Blood Wolf clan, the Death Star aliens and the Twin Commercial Stars remained calm. People continued to do as they always did, occasionally adding a bit of discussion about this war to their post-meal conversations. Most of them would say things like, “Our lord is going out to fight again; I wonder how many good things he’ll bring back this time.”

Years of war had made the aliens accustomed to living in such an atmosphere, and the dominance of Blackhair made them keep their worries to themselves. Being a subject of the Blood Wolf clan had its advantages—no matter how intense the battles outside, they were untouched. Their lord, Blackhair, could always keep the enemies at bay.

It was a kind of confidence, a confidence in victory, that gave every alien and human living under the protection of the Blood Wolf no fear. They were willing to offer sacrifices to their patron, the craziest Blood Wolf in the universe.

Of course, as the source of this confidence, their patron Blackhair wasn’t having it so easy at the moment.

Talking to Marshal Wick was one thing, but actually facing the situation was another. In fact, Blackhair had already witnessed the recent battle firsthand. The Necromorph clan had arranged many spies for him within the interstellar fleet. In Li Feng’s cabin, Blackhair stared through the porthole at his vast fleet, pondering for a long time before turning around.

“Monkey, Bloodpupil. This time we’ll divide into two groups. I’m giving you 200 Thunderbolt Assault Ships. You’re responsible for the Seventh Star Region. As usual, try to capture them alive; if that’s not possible, then kill them. The Moors mainly use energy weapons, and the Thunderbolt Assault Ships should be able to counter them effectively.”

“Understood, boss. But there are only over 200 Thunderbolt Assault Ships in total. Giving us so many will leave you weak.” Monkey’s tone was worried.

“It doesn’t matter. This time I plan to use the Storm.”

“What!?” Monkey and Bloodpupil were stunned. “No way, boss. That’s a prototype warship that was just developed. Its stability hasn’t been tested yet. Aren’t you taking too much of a risk?”

Not only them but almost everyone in the cabin was shocked by Blackhair’s words. Baroka’s gaze toward Blackhair was filled with excitement.

The Storm was a new model developed by the Black Prison clan after the Thunderbolt Assault Ships. But unlike previous developments, this warship almost didn’t use any standard parts at all. From the inside out, it was almost entirely new. Moreover, this warship had a very distinct personality.

Spear-shaped in appearance. With a length of 1,600 meters—clearly the size of a medium-sized warship—the armor accounts for over 87% of its total volume. Almost the entire hull, except for the control section and engines, is armored. To make room for the armor, the ship has only four main engines, which are even inferior to those of a Mackerel-class warship during normal operations. Yet it boasts as many as 62 auxiliary engines scattered throughout its body! It can reach near-light speed during short-range negative-energy bursts. Coupled with its extremely robust protection, it is, by current technology standards, completely immune to being destroyed by gunfire! The problem is, this warship has no weapons at all! It is, in itself, a giant weapon that has never existed before. It has only one method of attack… impact! That’s right—this assault ship named after a storm uses collision as its sole means of attack. Its spear-shaped design features a highly raised bow, equipped with spiral ram horns made of highly compressed alloy, allowing it to easily tear apart any warship’s defenses. Neither energy shields nor physical armor can stop it. It is a true warship killer; in battle, there are only two outcomes: either the opponent is shattered to pieces or the ship itself is destroyed! It is an attack with no way to retreat, and those who dare to pilot such a ship are the most bloodthirsty and fearless among the Blood Wolf Pirates. In the entire universe, aside from the Blood Wolf faction, no one else would dare to use such a near-suicidal warship. Only Black Hair’s courage, combined with the genius of the Black Prison crew, could give birth to such a ferocious weapon that seems to crave blood at all times. How could anyone in the cabin remain unexcited upon hearing that this ship would be used? Faced with such an unprecedented mode of attack, even those who would normally be cautious were no longer concerned about taking risks. Moreover, who could change the decision made by Black Hair? “Alright,” Monkey finally gave in under Black Hair’s silent gaze, awkwardly rubbing his nose. “But boss, you need to be careful. We only have three of these ships right now, and they’re all still in the trial phase. If we lose them, we’ll have nothing left. You don’t want your subordinates to suffer, do you? If not…” “If not, I still have Li Feng,” Black Hair cut Monkey off abruptly. He stood up, glanced around, and spoke in an unyielding tone. “This is our first official encounter with the Moore race. I don’t care about the losses. Only the outcome matters!” “Understood!” The cabin echoed with a loud response. “No regard for the process—only the outcome!”

“Send the Moors back to their grandmother’s house!! Hahaha……”