Chapter 31: The Devil’s Gift, Section 10

This was the first time humanity faced external invasion. It was also the first time they encountered a race as powerful as their own. Though essentially, there was no difference between the two sides, they still had to determine a winner and loser.
It was a matter of survival—for in this universe, only one strong ruler could exist.
Unfortunately, compared to the Moors, humanity truly didn’t deserve to be called strong.
A high-standard fleet of a thousand large warships was almost completely destroyed just four hours after entering the Third Star Region. Grand Duke Bosesi managed to escape by chance, but aside from three guard ships, none of his subordinates survived. In contrast, the Moors lost less than ten giant warships. The disparity in strength was evident at a glance.
Worse still, despite such a heavy loss, Grand Duke Bosesi still failed to save the few survivors on those planets—a sheer humiliation!
On the way back, Grand Duke Bosesi spat out blood; his usually well-maintained face was now twisted like a demon’s!
“Damn it! Damn it!! Why! Why!!”
“Your Grace, please calm down. This defeat isn’t a big deal. We still have more warships and more soldiers. Under your leadership, we will surely wash away all this shame,” said one of his aides anxiously, seeing Bosesi’s monstrous face. But all he got in response was a pair of bloodshot eyes.
“Shut up!” Bosesi roared, his face contorting violently. Where was the usual composure?
“Damn it, why! Why are they so strong? How could those damned warships block our attacks!! And what kind of weapon is that damned blue light! Why are our shields ineffective against them!!” The grand duke’s furious shouts echoed through the cabin, but no one dared answer him at that moment.
Because they all knew well that this time, their master, the great Grand Duke Bosesi, was truly enraged.
After all, unlike other nobles, Grand Duke Bosesi was probably the only truly powerful figure among them now. He lacked the vulgarity and greed of ordinary nobles, as well as their arrogance and pride. As a ruler of three star regions, this grand duke had nothing but hard work left. His only dream was to restore the nobility’s prestige and reclaim their former glory.

This time, they launched a fierce attack on the Third Star Region in an attempt to rescue the surviving humans. It was also a move taken with great confidence by the Grand Duke. In his mind, as long as he could save these desperate people, his reputation would reach new heights. More people would surely remember the days when the nobles led them in expanding their territories. This would undoubtedly be a strong boost for the now-weakening noble class.

Yet he never expected to be met with a loud slap.

In fact, there weren’t many Moor giant ships in the Third Star Region. Perhaps due to the need to strengthen the star stations, most of them had returned after successfully occupying the region, leaving only about fifty to carry out routine surveillance duties. Yet these mere fifty giant ships utterly defeated the Grand Duke of Poseysia’s thousand warships, scattering them in disarray!

The reason was simple: the Moor giant ships were simply too powerful.

Their sturdy stone-precision armor and ultra-strong protective layers made human energy weapons almost ineffective against them. Whether it was the main cannons of the warships or concentrated energy beams, they could at most create visible energy ripples upon hitting those giant ships. It was not only difficult to destroy them but even to damage their armor. On the contrary, the Moortribe’s energy weapons were terrifying. Especially that blue light covering hundreds of kilometers at the bow of their ships—once it appeared, it would completely erase all human warships within its range. The fleet that once made the Grand Duke of Poseysia proud couldn’t even withstand a single encounter!

Unable to harm the enemy while being effortlessly wiped out by them—this scene was less a war and more a massacre. Watching his fleet struggle uselessly, the Grand Duke of Poseysia’s heart turned to ice. He never imagined that in just a few months, the Moor giant ships had become even stronger than he had seen before. Back then, although they also used blue beams as their main attack method, they weren’t this powerful, right? And it seemed like they could be harmed back then, didn’t they?

Of course, the Grand Duke of Poseysia had no way of knowing. Those few Moor giant ships back then were just regular reconnaissance vessels. But what he faced now were true combat units. After months of preparation, when the Moortribe finally launched their attack, how could they possibly use those reconnaissance ships as cannon fodder?

The standard Moor giant ships are the same model that Blackhair brought back to Death Star. Although they resemble reconnaissance ships in appearance, their defense and firepower are on completely different levels. If a reconnaissance ship is compared to a child, then a standard Moor warship is undoubtedly an adult—one extremely strong and highly destructive criminal. Fifty of them can defeat a thousand, which is the clearest proof. After all, compared to these weapons designed specifically for war, the fleet under Grand Duke Poseidon is far too fragile. Many still use primitive elemental shields, which, in the eyes of the Moors, are barely better than paper. Thus, Grand Duke Poseidon was forced to retreat. At the same time, news of his entire fleet being destroyed spread rapidly throughout the human territories. Fear replaced anger, calming many who had lost their senses. For a time, there was complete silence throughout the human territories. Countless people eagerly awaited the outcome, with their eyes fixed on the planet Taraton—the stronghold of humanity’s greatest force, the interstellar fleet. What kind of reaction would Marshal Wick, the invincible warrior, have? Marshal Wick was very frustrated. As the leader of a war machine, especially one hailed as the strongest, he bore an immense burden. The fall of two star systems, though directly involving the noble class, also reflected his own incompetence as a marshal. The deaths of billions of civilians weighed on him like a heavy mountain, making it hard for him to breathe. If he could, he would like to, like Grand Duke Poseidon, send his own fleet to fight head-on against the Moors, even if it meant total destruction, at least to experience a sense of satisfaction. But he couldn’t. Because he hadn’t lost his sanity—and he couldn’t afford to. Three hundred Moor giant ships were still beyond the current interstellar fleet’s capacity to match. Marshal Wick knew well that, despite the fleet undergoing successive upgrades after he seized control with forceful measures and equipped it with more advanced ships, these improvements were still insignificant compared to the historically seasoned Moors. Through constant contact with Blackhair, he understood this terrifying race better than any other leader.

It is a race that exists solely for conquest. They do not produce or conduct research; everything depends on plunder. The only thing that ensures their survival is their formidable weaponry. It can be said that the Moors’ energy weapons are the most advanced in this universe, and their stone-precision armor is the strongest. Fighting such enemies, one must not throw all one’s strength at it for momentary pleasure, as that would only lead to utter destruction.

Thus, Marshal Wick could only wait—waiting for the promise left by Blackhair during their conversation a few days ago. “Give me half a month. I’ll come up with a solution. But for now, you must evacuate the people in the surrounding star systems. Otherwise, I can’t guarantee what might happen.” Those were Blackhair’s exact words. Marshal Wick followed his instructions. Though he didn’t understand why Blackhair was so certain, he had no other choice now.

Eleven days have passed. There are still four days left. As long as he can hold on, Blackhair, that mysterious man, should keep his promise, right? It seems he’s never broken a promise before…

Locking himself in his office, Marshal Wick closed his eyes in deep thought, his fingers tapping gently on the desk. Nearby, an ornate floor clock ticked away, its minute hand moving like a snail…

Unaware of this, as Marshal Wick suffered in agony, on the far side of the universe, in the mysterious and dark reverse space, a massive celestial body was moving slowly yet steadily. Though its movement was slow, its speed in normal space was as swift as lightning. Surrounding this giant, gyroscope-like celestial body were tiny creatures resembling ants, snapping their claws and showing their fangs.

Sharp claws, smooth yet sturdy shells, and vicious teeth—weren’t these tiny creatures the very Bakr bugs that once terrified interstellar fleets?

Of course, the Bakr bugs weren’t small. Their mature forms, hundreds of meters long, were already the size of small warships—far from being tiny. But compared to the celestial body around them, they seemed insignificant.

After all, the Thor Fortress was a giant weapon modeled after the Mason planet… In a sense, it was almost the epitome of the Death Star’s most powerful armaments!

Time passed little by little, yet the anti-space remained as silent as before. It was unclear how much time had gone by when a dazzling white light burst suddenly in front of Thor’s Fortress, followed by intense spatial fluctuations that distorted everything around. By the time the fluctuations subsided, the entire landscape had changed—they had arrived in a vast, star-filled universe.

A section of the armor on Thor’s Fortress’s surface suddenly collapsed, and like a chain reaction, the surrounding armor followed suit. Ten minutes later, a huge cannon barrel, dozens of kilometers in diameter, emerged. Inside the barrel, a mass of pitch-black energy could be seen rapidly coalescing…