Inside a spacecraft in Mid sector 101—
Inside one of the sealed rooms of the vessel, a young man was sitting on a leather seat, both hands resting firmly on the armrests. His posture was rigid, disciplined. His breathing was controlled, measured. His heartbeat steady and rhythmic, as if he were forcing his body into artificial calm.
But suddenly—
The young man's eyes snapped open and he screamed, "Aaaaah!!"
He shot up from his seat in a violent motion, kicked the nearest table with savage force bang, then turned and punched the very seat that had held him for nearly an hour, his knuckles crashing into the leather.
It was Lord Damir, the son of the Curse Behemoth.
"Human… Human, you bastard!!" Damir roared, his voice thick with rage and hatred.
While checking the messages from his generals and intelligence units involved in the war, a new reply suddenly appeared before him, a response to a message he had sent to Lord Human.
