Chapter 46: The First Battle of the Giant Mecha – Section 1

A silent night, with a gentle breeze. Green lights flickered on Death Star. In the deep darkness, most people peacefully drifted off to sleep.
Kurokami also fell asleep in his large armchair, one hand still holding the already cold cup of tea. His usually stern face showed a childlike smile. Suddenly, the door opened quietly, and Sorei entered. Seeing Kurokami in such a state, she shook her head with a wry smile. She gently covered him with a coat lying nearby before leaving silently, making not a sound at all, as soft as a breeze.
To Sorei, Kurokami’s expression seemed peaceful, far from his usual cold demeanor. Perhaps only in dreams would this strong man reveal such a vulnerable side? And how many people could see that side of him? A beauty, or perhaps Lily?
Sorei smiled faintly, a hint of pride in her beautiful eyes. Her steps grew lighter, and her snow-white princess dress swayed gently with each step, like a night-blooming flower.
But she likely didn’t know that just a few hours earlier, Kurokami had been preparing for an ambush. In this ambush, many would die—young warriors losing their lives, kind mothers losing their children. Life and death, love and sorrow, were separated by just a thin line. Countless once-happy families would be shattered by Kurokami’s decision.
All this effort was merely to defend human dignity.
A battle with no way back.
Kurokami guessed that Emperor Moore would come, and he had made thorough preparations. Not only Death Star but also his allies, Marshal Wick and Grand Duke Poseidon, were busy deploying troops and mobilizing all available resources. Perhaps in some remote planets, ordinary people continued their peaceful lives, but in areas near the boundaries of human society, massive fleets had already assembled, like terrifying steel monsters patrolling day and night.
But Kurokami forgot that predictions are just that—predictions, not necessarily reality. He wasn’t a prophet, nor could he assert anything about the unknown.
Emperor Moore did not appear in human territory as he had predicted. On the contrary, for the next month, the boundaries of human society remained eerily quiet. Not only was there no sign of Moore’s fleet, but even the usual space pirates were nowhere to be seen.

This situation is truly bizarre. Just as Blackhair was still doubting whether his judgment was wrong, Marshal Wick and Grand Duke Poseidon came to him, questioning his prediction.
“My warriors have been patrolling the border for over a month without rest. Blackhair, are you sure your information is correct?” said Marshal Wick. Though skeptical, he still maintained basic courtesy on the surface.
But Grand Duke Poseidon wasn’t as polite. There wasn’t much friendship between this high-ranking duke and Blackhair; on the contrary, due to Blackhair’s frequent conflicts with the nobles, their relationship could even be described as hostile. Yet in the face of a terrifying enemy like the Moor Empire, Grand Duke Poseidon sided with justice. But now that Blackhair’s prediction had failed, he didn’t hesitate to express his dissatisfaction.
“My warriors haven’t left the warships for a month either. Seven large fleets patrol day and night, with daily expenses reaching astronomical figures. Blackhair, I now suspect your prediction was intentional. If so, I protest and demand compensation for my losses during this time,” said Grand Duke Poseidon coldly, emphasizing each word.
Looking at the two of them, Blackhair remained silent, head bowed in quiet thought, like a statue that had existed since ancient times. As time passed and Marshal Wick grew impatient, Blackhair finally raised his head.
“I still firmly believe in my intuition. The Moor Emperor will definitely come—no, I even suspect he’s already here, somewhere near us. So if you have no other suggestions, I hope you two will continue with your tasks. The results will soon become clear to you.”
“I see…” Marshal Wick pondered for a moment before deciding to trust Blackhair’s judgment. Nodding, he ended the communication.
Grand Duke Poseidon, however, stared coldly at Blackhair for a long time without saying a word. Finally, he let out a cold laugh.
“I hope your judgment is correct. Otherwise, I’m sure we won’t be done with each other.”
“If it’s correct, you probably won’t be able to finish what you started with me either,” Blackhair said nonchalantly, shrugging. “You should bear the costs of your fleets yourself. I don’t think I need to remind you of that. But if I really made a mistake this time, I’d be happy to compensate you for your losses. After all, that means my warriors won’t have to take risks.”
“…” Grand Duke Poseidon snorted coldly and disappeared without saying another word.

Perhaps he was skeptical of Blackhair’s predictions, or perhaps he had various complaints about him. But since Marshal Wick was willing to believe Blackhair, he wouldn’t go so far as to be the villain. Spending a few more days on patrols wouldn’t take up much of his time—Duke Poseidon was quite self-aware.

However, if the Moor fleet still hadn’t appeared after another month, Duke Poseidon wouldn’t mind showing Blackhair his wrath.

On the other side of the distant starry sky, this old noble with long white hair thought angrily, his stern expression silencing the attendants around him. No one dared make a sound. Through the portholes beside them, one could see a dense array of giant warships, like ancient monsters, surrounding them. Ahead of the ships lay the vast starry expanse.

This was Duke Poseidon’s first fleet, the strongest among his so-called seven fleets. It consisted of 3,000 standard warships, along with 30 massive Moor ships supported by Blackhair, forming a formidable force. At that moment, they were on routine patrol.

It had to be said that although Duke Poseidon had a bad temper, he was a very meticulous person. He was strict with his subordinates, just as strict with himself. Normally, such routine patrols didn’t require his presence as a leader—ordinary fleet commanders could handle them. But he, despite being in his fifties, insisted on overseeing everything personally, carefully inspecting every corner of the star system he passed through. His thorough and meticulous attitude made his crew extremely nervous; not a single ship in the entire fleet dared to violate the duke’s rules.

This was probably one of the reasons Duke Poseidon was so respected. The achievements he had attained by his fifties were certainly not due to his noble title alone, but to his true abilities. Perhaps, without Blackhair, he might even have unified all of human society.

But that was just a possibility. By now, this high-ranking duke had long given up on such unfounded illusions and focused his energy on his duties. Although he remained skeptical of Blackhair’s predictions, it didn’t hinder his seriousness. No matter what happened, he would do his best in everything he did.

And this patrol was undoubtedly one of the most important tasks.

Strictly speaking, they are no longer part of any human-dominated star region—rather, they represent the boundary between all star regions. It’s a starfield without any master. The routes were personally designated by Grand Duke Poseidon. Although it’s a bit of a detour, if enemies are detected, it will give them twice the reaction time compared to normal patrols, and the Moorish fleet’s attacks will also be significantly delayed.
This is a purely strategic approach by a fleet commander, and no one would disagree. Thus, the First Fleet is currently the only armed force in this vicinity. With thousands of warships, they are massive and powerful. Especially after equipping themselves with the terrifying 7200MM giant cannons, the Moorish Empire’s fleet is no longer seen as invincible in their eyes. Many crew members are eager, itching to see the appearance of enemies.
Unfortunately, just like in the past month, this patrol also yielded no results. On the warships’ scanners, the surroundings remained completely silent; aside from their own lights, no suspicious signs could be seen. As time passed, the atmosphere aboard the fleet grew increasingly oppressive.
“It seems we’ve gotten nothing again,” a deputy quietly muttered to his companion on Grand Duke Poseidon’s bridge. Discontent appeared on his handsome face. Though his companion didn’t respond, he showed the same expression.
“Shut up. Keep it quiet on the bridge,” an older officer ordered them. He was the captain of this warship, a nobleman with a baronial title. Unlike other nobles, this baron had a military demeanor—strictly disciplined and brave in battle—earning him Grand Duke Poseidon’s favor. That’s how he stood out from tens of thousands of candidates to become the captain of this flagship.
“Captain Rocot, no need,” an aged voice suddenly came through just as the captain spoke. Hearing this, the middle-aged captain quickly turned around.
“Yes, Grand Duke Poseidon. But why…”
“They’re right. We really haven’t achieved anything this time. Sometimes I really think we’re like clowns. This behavior is utterly boring. But… sigh.” Grand Duke Poseidon sighed and didn’t continue, merely waving his hand.
“Return home. Let the Second Fleet take over the remaining patrols. You can rest now.”
“Understood, Your Grace,” Captain Rocot replied promptly before stepping forward to the control panel, ready to convey the duke’s orders—when suddenly…
An abnormally bright light appeared on the scanner’s large screen!