After being selected for the 38th year.
The ship, aided by the entire fleet, completed its energy replenishment.
Tourmaline was incredibly excited.
"Go, go, go!"
"Accelerate for me quickly! We want to be the first to charge out!"
Was she rushing toward her demise?
All the soldiers silently wondered.
They placed their hands over the acceleration button, waiting for other ships to launch first.
But Tourmaline couldn't afford to be patient. She moved forward directly, slamming her massive steel tentacle onto the control panel, right onto that acceleration button.
The immense gravitational force associated with acceleration immediately appeared.
Void-class ships were relatively simple in design, meaning their acceleration couldn't be physically resisted. The only countermeasure available was wearing a specialized mecha.
Although feasible, this option was considerably more uncomfortable, failing to provide complete physical insensitivity.
Several soldiers immediately experienced nausea on the spot.
Fortunately, everyone's constitution was strong enough; it resulted only in dry heaving, without producing any foul or malodorous emissions.
"What a disgrace! This is precisely when performance matters. The future of the Star Nation rests in our hands!"
Tourmaline looked with profound disdain at those sluggish soldiers.
If they weren't the first to charge out, how could she possibly leave a favorable impression on the CEO?
These people were truly useless, incapable of seizing this golden opportunity.
She shook her head, questioning how she had been assigned such soldiers.
Each one utterly lacked ambition.
Fortunately, she hadn't voiced these thoughts aloud, otherwise, if other soldiers overheard them, they would probably erupt in—
...
At this moment, aboard the Ghost.
Luna was genuinely impressed by Tourmaline's aggressive ship.
"Who is the captain of that vessel?" she inquired.
Her secretary searched his memory for a moment, then informed Luna: "Her name is Tourmaline. She is a commoner; she was once imprisoned for a malicious incident, though she was not the principal instigator."
"It seems someone found her personality highly suitable for military service and brought her into the army."
"I simply cannot fathom how she managed to achieve an officer rank."
Ordinarily, someone with a criminal record would find it extremely difficult to advance to officer status.
Moreover, Tourmaline's official data indicated that her intelligence quotient was slightly below average—not just below the basic benchmark, but even sub-standard.
How did such an individual attain an officer commission? Nepotism?
The secretary subtly hinted to Luna that Tourmaline was certainly an outlier.
Luna merely glanced at the summary information, not allocating much attention.
The role of the vanguard was inherently simple: to scout whether the enemy ahead harbored any concealed maneuvers. Many details required minimal focus.
"Understood. In exactly one month, relay my order: change course."
"We will adopt a parallel trajectory, ensuring zero overlap with the enemy's projected route."
Similar to the tactical analysis experts, Luna had a secondary objective for deploying the vanguard: deception.
If the vanguard was indeed intercepted by the enemy, then their mission would not have been entirely in vain.
In matters of war,
Luna was an exceptionally cold-blooded strategist.
She was prepared to sacrifice anyone, to utilize anyone as a means to an end.
"Understood!"
The secretary internalized this as well. A chill ran through his body as he replied, then quickly retreated.
As a secretary, he had never been involved in actual warfare. Throughout this campaign, he had witnessed far too many of Luna's ruthless decisions.
Each time, Luna either presumed her chess pieces would inevitably be expended, or that the pieces Luna chose to play were themselves being deliberately offered to the adversary.
Step by step, probing the enemy's limits.
How would the war ultimately resolve itself?
He could not possibly guess, nor did he wish to speculate. He simply desired to remain a quiet, inconspicuous secretary.
...
12 years later.
Ship number 8 of the BI13 squadron.
Leading the vanguard charge.
After a full second stage of acceleration, the ship's speed soared to 180,000 km/s.
There was still a significant gap remaining before reaching the theoretical 200,000 km/s maximum.
This was because the ship's initial state was a "sluggish speed" condition, where the propulsion system remained largely dormant, dedicating all energy toward storage.
In outer space, it is not an absolute vacuum; this means that at high flight velocities, weak frictional forces still exert influence. These accumulated frictional forces, over time, cause the ship's speed to gradually decay. Therefore, when initiating acceleration, these vessels no longer began from the flat 100,000 km/s mark.
Furthermore, during the initial phase of acceleration, a substantial amount of energy must be consumed simply to bring the engine unit up to operating temperature.
After entering a stable flight state in space, the engine unit's temperature would plummet to below -150 degrees Celsius; sometimes approaching -200 degrees Celsius. The sluggish speed state maintained lower operating efficiency than normal, resulting in an even colder temperature for the ship's engine core.
Even the strongest materials, instantaneously transitioning from sub-negative 200 degrees Celsius to the billions of degrees required by acceleration, would be unable to withstand the thermal shock.
Under various pretexts and calculations,
theoretically, a starship that should have reached 200,000 km/s ultimately maxed out at 180,000 km/s.
Even so, the twelve years of flight time had translated to closing a distance equivalent to 4.4 light-years.
Coupled with the previous thirty-eight years spent on energy replenishment, and the initial two years of flight before that refueling, they were now finally within striking distance of the enemy vessel.
The enemy fleet lay approximately 1.1 light-years ahead.
This was an astonishingly short gap.
At their current velocity, they could completely intercept the opponent in just three years.
"Captain, we have visually confirmed the enemy fleet."
At this moment, a soldier delivered an urgent report to Tourmaline. Tourmaline examined the data: on the star chart, a faint, minute entity was vaguely visible. This tiny signature was enveloped by a circle of light in the drawing, but its very center registered as completely dark.
This visualization represented a gravitational detection map. Regions of extremely high gravity appeared black, as did areas with no gravity at all; low gravitational fields, conversely, became more pronounced the weaker they were—hence the resulting visual signature.
"The enemy warship cluster is actually that close. Could we simply charge directly in and execute a single main cannon strike to neutralize a substantial portion of them?"
This tiny cluster was estimated to be no more than a million kilometers in diameter. Given that the enemy likely deployed tens of thousands of warships, such a massive number within a million kilometers implied an incredibly high operational density.
The moment Tourmaline uttered these words, the expressions of everyone else in the cockpit shifted dramatically.
Before they could even formulate a protest to stop her, they heard Tourmaline continue with finality: "Execute it."
"Enter evasion state, preset the infiltration time into the enemy fleet, and then launch a surprise offensive."
She was clearly congratulating herself on her own genius concept.
Immediately, a soldier shouted in alarm: "No! We haven't even thoroughly analyzed their projected route yet!"
"Once we enter evasion state, our ship is restricted to a straight trajectory. If we proceed now and the enemy fleet alters course even slightly, we will immediately find ourselves flanking the enemy formation, exposed to massive retaliatory fire."
"If the CEO learns of this careless maneuver, she will surely question who issued such a foolish order."
The soldier added that last sentence as a strategic softener.
This line of reasoning was indeed clever, at least it managed to calm Tourmaline's initial aggressive impulse somewhat.
But her inherently impatient nature made it impossible for her to settle into a truly calm deliberation.
"Then why aren't you analyzing their route faster for me? Don't let the enemy detect us before your plan is finalized."
Upon hearing this, the soldiers in the cockpit all let out a silent sigh of relief.
Although this action momentarily curbed Tourmaline's urge to charge headlong, it only delayed the action, rather than outright rejecting the core strategy.
As soon as the analysis results were ready, Tourmaline would immediately activate the plan.
The captain held the highest possible authority aboard a vessel.
This authority even extended to the power to execute anyone whose opinion contradicted her own.
In wartime, the greatest taboo was internal conflict of viewpoint. Regardless of whether a decision was inherently good or bad, a military unit had to maintain an utterly united front.
Internal disagreements could easily breed external or hidden power struggles within the ranks, a scenario absolutely unacceptable during conflict.
Therefore, during combat scenarios, the commanding officer held absolute dominion.
If this were not wartime, conflicting opinions would merely lead to separation between officers and soldiers, without severe retribution.
But this was wartime.
No soldier on the ship could, or dared to, defy Tourmaline's decree.
Even if it meant certain death, they were compelled to follow through.
Even if the decision was entirely illogical or impossible, if they couldn't persuade their commanding officer otherwise, they could only execute the prescribed method.
On the battlefield, there was no room for extensive rationality or adherence to procedural rules; pure, swift efficiency was paramount. Every soldier was deemed a tool, and tools were not meant to possess independent thought.
"What are we supposed to do now?"
"If we actually follow that lunatic's idea, we are absolutely guaranteed annihilation."
"Is there any feasible alternative? Who dares to openly refute her decision? She will certainly execute us."
"Right now, the only option is to invoke the CEO's name; that might slightly temper her anger, perhaps using it to force a reconsideration."
Everyone exchanged cautious whispers.
Then, using the group chat, they voted for one unfortunate individual to carry the message.
That unfortunate soul slowly approached Tourmaline.
"Captain, I believe there are still certain imperfections in the decision to charge directly. It could potentially be refined and optimized further."
He spoke very quietly, almost breathlessly.
Tourmaline's ears were certainly not impaired. Her eyes snapped directly towards him, followed by a bellow: "What!?"
"You actually suggest my perfect plan harbors flaws?"
"I think you must have a death wish!"
Indeed, the soldiers' rigid perception of Tourmaline was proven entirely accurate.
That soldier was instantly thrown to the floor by Tourmaline's roar.
"No, no, no, that wasn't..."
"I only intended to optimize it, to elevate it to an even higher degree of perfection."
"After all, the better the result, the more it can secure the CEO's approval, isn't that the ultimate goal?"
"Our objective was reconnaissance initially, not a frontal assault."
"Charging in recklessly, even if the outcome is successful, the CEO might not even grant us a favorable mention. Perhaps at that moment, the CEO won't even spare us a glance."
They had genuinely believed this appeal to professionalism and respect for the CEO would pacify Tourmaline.
However, Tourmaline became even more incensed.
"This is warfare, not an exercise in placating someone!"
"We are tasked with defending our homeworld. You people disappoint me so profoundly; your ideological awareness is distressingly low."
"Has the Star Nation degraded to this extent? To actually recruit mere sycophants like yourselves as soldiers."
All the soldiers stared wide-eyed.
Could Tourmaline really say such things?
What a capricious woman.
Her attitude shifted immediately upon the mention of Luna.
"I… I… I…"
The soldier stammered, utterly unable to articulate a response.
Tourmaline grabbed him by one arm and commanded him: "What is with the stuttering? Go reflect in your quarters immediately. Do not let me see your face again before the mission is executed!"
With that, she forcefully threw the soldier aside.
The immense kinetic energy caused the soldier to violently collide with the bulkhead, resulting in body cracks and an immediate outpouring of blood.
Fortunately, medical robots rushed over instantly, expertly stabilizing the soldier. The injured man hastily evacuated the cockpit.
At this juncture, the remaining soldiers in the cockpit maintained absolute silence, no longer daring to utter a word.
They seemed to have grasped the realization that Tourmaline was not the inflexible zealot adhering rigidly to her own theory, whose stance could not be easily swayed.
This was troublesome.
If this course continued, they would certainly be led straight into certain death.
Tourmaline's gaze swept over the personnel in the control room. Did these people genuinely believe she was unaware of their inner thoughts?
Each one secretly plotting an escape.
Such individuals were the most despised by the CEO.
True warriors fear nothing. Only such soldiers can earn genuine respect. Those who hesitate and cling to the scraps others leave behind, even if they attain some glory, it is inherently false. They might satisfy themselves momentarily, but once exposed, they will face universal scorn.
She, Tourmaline, intended to be a true warrior, dedicated to thwarting the enemy's conspiracy.
At this moment, a soldier in the cockpit reported: "The other ships are decelerating. Should we also reduce speed?"
Tourmaline checked the positions of the allied vessels. They had already fallen six astronomical units behind them. She instantly flared into another rage.
"These cowards, have they forgotten their very designation?"
"A total disgrace!"
"To be allied with these people is simply an embarrassment to my command."
"There is no need to slow down. If we decelerate, how can we possibly intercept and vanquish the enemy?"
"A soldier's assignment is war. A soldier's final return is death on the battlefield. Are the analysis results finalized?"
Tourmaline approached the analysis officer, observing his data manipulation on the screen.
The data clearly indicated the enemy's trajectory contained a faint deviation; it was not a perfectly straight path.
However, this deviation was very easy to calculate.
She felt a surge of triumph.
"Quickly formulate the engagement plan. Enter evasion state."
Seeing her elation, the others felt a discomfort as profound as if their own kin had perished.
They couldn't stop her!
Tourmaline's conviction was becoming increasingly entrenched.
That last opportunity just now had been their final viable chance. They eyed the deceleration button, contemplating that if they pressed it now, they might secure their freedom.
But Tourmaline would undoubtedly execute them.
Both paths led to doom.
What caused their hesitation was that if Tourmaline killed them, it would be mutiny—the identical punishment as desertion. Yet, by facing death alongside Tourmaline, they could at least secure some form of military merit.
This deeply contradictory logic held them captive.
However, a more profound underlying reason remained: the absolute control the upper echelons of this era held over their subordinates.
Officers possessed the undisputed authority over the lives of any soldier under their command. Without this level of control, the entire military structure would descend into chaos.
Both factions held conflicting yet equally held beliefs regarding their choices.
They inwardly cursed one another.
Then, time passed, and finally, Tourmaline secured her victory.
Four days later, the ship entered evasion state amidst the soldiers' deepening despair.
In evasion state, they possessed neither thoughts nor any personal volition. The vessel moved autonomously toward the enemy trajectory.
Behind ship BI138, all soldiers aboard the other vessels became instantly alert.
"Did something happen?"
"Were we detected?"
"Was BI138 eliminated?"
After sending rapid inquiries, they received confirmation.
BI138 entered evasion state to launch a preemptive strike against the enemy, specifically to ascertain the enemy's combat capabilities.
Every soul aboard the other ships was stunned into silence.
They had witnessed individuals eager for death, but never an entire crew unanimously desiring destruction.
What kind of order was this? Was BI138 functioning as an embedded suicide squad? Was it undertaking some extraordinarily critical mission?
They would never know.
...
Deep Space.
Flaorse.
Winunder Fleet.
This was the super fleet jointly constructed by Flaorse and the Ynun Star Nation it belonged to.
The second generation of the Federation was experienced in virtual worlds.
The location of the virtual world was random.
And the second generation of Ynun was born in a virtual world featuring a Xianxia background.
This was not an easy genesis.
Because the second generation possessed absolutely no inherent authority, which meant that if they desired to exit their originating world, they needed to diligently ascend to the highest level within that virtual construct, and then successfully "ascend" into the main virtual world.
The main virtual world was also referred to as the real virtual world—that is, the virtual scene that overlapped with physical reality.
Some second-generation individuals resided within this real virtual world. Aside from lacking physical bodies, their lives were functionally indistinguishable from those of ordinary people.
Ynun, within that Xianxia world, "ascended to immortality" while operating as an NPC. Subsequently, because the second-generation experience had been truly arduous, and he could not bear to endure a third generation, he directly fled the Federation and established his own Star Nation.
Of course, he possessed certain assets accumulated while within the Federation.
Although escaping from a virtual world was incredibly difficult, it also implied that once successful, he could retain everything he had amassed in the original virtual world in the real world.
Not experience, but tangible wealth.
Virtual world wealth was still considered wealth, especially within a massive virtual world boasting tens of billions, even hundreds of billions of players. How could an economy not flourish under such scale?
As a powerful entity within that virtual world, after Ynun achieved immortality, he effectively commanded assets valued in the tens of billions.
He liquidated all virtual world resources for currency, then prospered in reality, establishing a corporation whose market capitalization soared to a trillion before his departure, setting up a small Star Nation on the border of this Civilization.
It took nearly 30,000 years of development to reach its current scale.
As someone who originated from a Xianxia world, the Star Nation he established was actually structured more like a sect.
This fleet, named Winunder, was jointly managed by an executive from Flaorse and an official from the Ynun Star Nation.
Both were situated on their respective flagships.
However, at this moment, they materialized almost simultaneously in the fleet's virtual conference room.
The two took their seats.
"After detecting the opposing fleet, the count is 11 ships!"
This was the intelligence they had gathered.
Duming, an executive from Flaorse and a human, appeared very young, in his early twenties, but he wore ancient attire with his hair tied up, lending him an ethereal, almost immortal bearing.
He reclined casually in his chair and spoke: "Wasn't this already anticipated?"
"The enemy is highly likely to approach from behind us. After all, this is the inherent advantage of evasion-type vessels: a tactical surprise attack!"
"These 11 ships should merely be here to scout our disposition."
The official from the Ynun Star Nation was not human, but a member of the liquid-race humanoids.
The so-called "liquid race," as the name implied, existed in a fluid state.
In daylight, they presented as a pale blue, and at night, they emitted a dark blue bioluminescence. Their standard body size was roughly equivalent to a bottle of mineral water.
This was a novel species.
Originating from a distant Sector, they were detected by the Swarm and integrated into human Civilization not too long ago.
However, their learning capability was exceptionally strong, allowing them to quickly establish a considerable presence within this Star Nation.
The liquid race had no fixed structure; they could not stand erect, appearing merely as a puddle of liquid. They could only move rapidly in methane environments. Contact with water would dilute their bodies, leading to dissolution and death.
Of course, this was true when they were a low-level Civilization. After integrating into human Civilization, they acquired quark robots, and their somatic genes underwent slight modifications, rendering their vulnerabilities obsolete.
It is worth noting that the liquid race actually possesses thousands of years of humiliating history. In their nascent stages, they were utilized as some kind of tool favored by female main characters (MCs). Even after registering with the human populace, due to their low influence and humble status, they were seldom respected even after being recognized as sentient.
It was only when a wealthy female patron from a certain Star Nation provided substantial financial backing that this species began its slow improvement.
Binom noted a particular detail.
"What if the original intent of these ships was for us to discover them?"
"Then might this imply some ulterior conspiracy from Supernova Technology?"
"This warrants observation. We should closely monitor the subsequent behavior of those vessels."
Duming meticulously reviewed the data again.
"These ships have decelerated, which confirms they were merely observing us, verifying our coordinates."
"You must be concerned that the enemy is closing in on us!"
"For this operation, our corporation specially commissioned a monitoring device. If the enemy truly attempts an approach, we will detect it very swiftly."
"We already possess complete intelligence on the White Dragon-class ships. Their arrival now would merely be a suicide mission."
"Certainly, not arriving would yield the same result."
"Notify the entire fleet to enter anomaly state."
"They assume only they possess superior technology, but they are unaware that Flaorse has also been cultivating advancements in this domain for a very long time. This war is the perfect opportunity to reveal our true capabilities to the entire Civilization."
Anomaly.
This term usually referred to optical distortion.
But Flaorse wielded a method of anomaly affecting all four fundamental forces.
For example, an object might be at point A, yet all observed and measured data reports the object residing at point B. This anomaly would deceive the enemy, who might assume the fleet had closed the distance, when in reality it remained far off. Conversely, the enemy might believe the fleet was distant, when it could actually be quite near.
It was a core-level technology. Flaorse developed this technology utilizing wealth generated from years of dealing with viruses.
Duming was filled with confidence.
This was also the primary reason he ordered the entire fleet to reduce speed.
He had long anticipated that if Supernova Technology and the Rusty Star Nation aimed for victory, their optimal strategy would be an interception.
And following the complications that arose in the crucial Bmen star system, their available options seemed even more restricted.
"Luna, I hear she is a legend. I have yet to meet her."
"But I shall soon, within the trap I have laid for her. I trust the outcome won't be her corpse that I see."
Duming stated to Binom: "We will discuss this further when there is new development. They need time to deliberate and then act."
"..."
Binom remained in the meeting room after Duming departed.
He altered the room's configuration, transforming the entire space into an underwater environment.
The sound of flowing water brought him a sense of profound calm.
As a minor species within human Civilization, reaching his current standing was far from easy. He was an esteemed figure within the entirety of the liquid race.
He still vividly recalled his former self, born within the viscous confines of the Swarm's birthing canal. He had been unfortunate, yet paradoxically, fortunate.
Because his predecessors had spent their entire lives confined to that narrow passage, but he encountered the cosmos. Not long after his birth, the Swarm returned to human Civilization and sold them to a corporation. That corporation selectively bred them, then resold them to countless others.
Binom remembered being resold twenty-three times. He was treated purely as an ornamental curiosity, housed within an aquarium.
At that time, he slept to the constant, soothing sound of flowing water.
Until his final owner—who, crucially, would not permit Binom to address her as "master" because that person fundamentally believed all sentient beings were equal; the liquid race should not endure enslavement.
That was the first time Binom realized that benevolent beings existed even among humans.
He had initially perceived humans as devils, but gradually, his perspective began to shift. Of course, his inherent weakness provided the opportunity for this change; he had no other recourse.
That individual imparted a great deal of knowledge to him, but ultimately abandoned him and departed. To this day, Binom does not understand the reason why.
The past instilled in Binom a profound craving for life.
It also made him exceedingly cautious.
Although Duming was exceptionally intelligent, having meticulously arranged most of the overarching plans—each layer a marvel of complexity that inspired awe—Binom felt he was overly arrogant. No matter how thorough one's precautions, oversights were inevitable. Binom's designated role was to locate precisely those weak points.
He meticulously sifted through the information again.
The enemy appeared from the rear. Even if the goal was simply to pinpoint their exact location, why would the enemy need to confirm their position?
A long-range bombardment?
Or did the enemy plan to approach using evasion-type starships?
There had to be a clear objective.
Binom carefully considered the first two possibilities and dismissed them both.
With the enemy's known capabilities, a true super-range assault seemed almost impossible. Their opponent wasn't the Federation, boasting numerous such super-range armaments. Given the current scale of the Rusty Star Nation and Supernova Technology Corporation, developing super-range weaponry was simply not economically viable.
Furthermore, if they truly possessed such weapons, they would have detected them long ago. Such an armament would be a colossal entity, highly unlikely to be concealed, let alone transported discreetly.
Currently, the M36 cluster lay behind them, already under their occupied control. Unless the enemy had somehow managed to secretly position super-range assets within the M36 cluster?
Drawn to this realization, Binom immediately contacted his subordinate.
"Transmit a message back; inquire specifically about the situation within the M36 cluster."
He needed to neutralize all potential hidden threats.
However, after sending the transmission, he began to question his own conclusion: what if it wasn't a super-range weapon?
What was it, then?
Perhaps it was mere diversionary tactics, intended to steer his thoughts toward all the currently calculated possibilities, when in reality, the enemy operated entirely outside the scope of his current strategic projections?
Binom considered one critical possibility: now that enemy ships had materialized in the rear sector, their fleet was already heavily deployed to strictly guard that direction—over forty percent of the entire naval force was positioned behind them. If the enemy chose to strike from the flanks or the front, those sectors would undoubtedly represent a point of weakness.
Although their warships and vessels were clustered for mutual support, the emergence of evasion-type ships had fundamentally transformed the original model of warfare. Evasion-type vessels, prioritizing infiltration and surprise, compressed interstellar combat—which should have been fought at super-long or long distances—into brutally close-quarters engagements.
On the previous battlefield involving the White Dragon, when the enemy was finally detected, they were already within distances of tens of millions, or even just millions of kilometers. The war, which typically spanned years, or at least months, was directly condensed by the White Dragon into a matter of mere hours or minutes.
That was the terrifying efficacy of the White Dragon.
"Increase the deployment of small celestial body detectors ahead, and conduct immediate laser pulverization on any celestial body larger than 100 meters."
"The flanking escort ships are to spread out moderately; dispatch several scout vessels to move one astronomical unit to the left and right flanks."
Binom issued another rapid order.
He meticulously considered every angle. Even so, Binom remained unsatisfied, driven to uncover every further possibility.
The fleet continued its measured advance.
Its overall speed had decreased somewhat.
The deliberate deceleration was indeed a tactic intended to draw out the enemy.
Duming returned to his private quarters. Inside, there was only a simple meditation cushion. The entire room possessed an ancient aesthetic, completely unlike modern dwellings.
He lit a stick of sandalwood incense, then settled onto the meditation cushion to quiet his mind, entering a state of meditative absorption.
This was the cultivation practice employed by the Ynun Star Nation.
Every citizen of the entire Ynun Star Nation was required to undergo this rigorous process.
As contemporary beings, they naturally held no belief that cultivation could genuinely render them immortal. This specific practice was designed, instead, to refine the mind.
Immortals, it was observed, often developed various debilitating psychological afflictions, becoming increasingly chaotic internally.
And cultivation, it was believed, could cleanse this internal disorder, allowing individuals to achieve profound inner stillness.
The method of cultivation originated from the Ynun Star Nation's state religion, known as "Return to Void."
On one wall of the room, a detailed diagram was displayed. The drawing depicted an organism called a scorpion-beetle. It possessed the general form of a scorpion but was not one; it featured a pair of beetle-like wings and possessed the ability to fly.
This served as a visualization template.
The Ynun Star Nation's cultivation was systematically divided into several ascending tiers: the first was "Emptying the Mind," the second "Visualization," and the final stage was "Escaping into Void."
"Emptying the Mind" demanded comprehending the essence of nothingness, successfully clearing the mind of all intrusive thoughts during the cultivation process.
"Visualization" required intensely imagining oneself embodying the creature depicted in the template image, a step intended to sharpen and focus one's spirit.
"Escaping into Void" represented the supreme realm, allowing one's consciousness to become entirely null and void, desiring nothing external.
Duming was currently engaged in the second stage.
He sat upon the cushion, tilted his head, and glanced briefly at the vast cosmos displayed on the immense screen to his right—real-time telemetry from outside the warship. He was just about to verbally instruct the main system to close the external view.
At that precise moment, in a seemingly blank void within the cosmos, a singular vessel was suddenly revealed.
The ship was translucent, its entire hull exhibiting rough, whale-like curvatures—a structure wide at the front and tapering narrowly toward the rear, utterly devoid of any conventional aesthetic appeal.
This was definitively not a vessel belonging to his own fleet.
Duming instantly reacted, leaping up.
"Battle stations!"
He was instantly drenched in sweat. He had initially calculated that the enemy's arrival would require more time; they shouldn't have been positioned to strike so rapidly. He had never anticipated the enemy would already be interwoven within their own fleet formation.
When?
How in the cosmos did it reach this position?
[Warning! Enemy vessel detected, bearing coordinates 170,000 kilometers to the starboard of the main warship!]
The virtual meeting room simultaneously blared an alarm, wrenching the contemplative Binom back to harsh reality.
"How is this possible? It arrived that swiftly!"
He was utterly astonished.
Every strategic scenario he had just considered was definitively incorrect.
This development was truly unforeseen, yet so far outside the realm of calculated probability.
He immediately exited the virtual meeting room and commanded the warship to deploy defensive countermeasures.
"Adjust all warship weaponry. Target the enemy fleet. Do not hesitate. Engage immediately!"
The entire fleet, suddenly confronted by the unexpectedly arrived enemy vessel, instantly descended into pandemonium.