The void was a graveyard waiting to happen.
Across the black expanse, the banners of the Woltein Empire shimmered bright with wolf insignias, etched across dreadnaughts and cruisers that stretched for leagues. Their engines hummed like growls, their cannons glowed with caged fury. Even before a single shot had been fired, despair gnawed at the hearts of the dwarves who faced them.
On the dwarven flagship Iron Crown, Emperor Thorine Steelsword stood at the bridge, fists clenched so tightly his gauntlets creaked. His people were stubborn and unyielding, forged by fire and steel, their fleets armored in Meteorite and Adamantite Steel. Yet even he could not mask the tremor in his voice as he whispered, "Too many. By the Forge… too many."
His generals murmured prayers, but their faces were pale. They had fought endless wars in the Galaxy but the Woltein fleet was something else.
Dwarven morale sank lower still when the wolves' vanguard advanced, ion cannons charging. The runes on their hulls burned crimson. Behind them, a tide of Absolutes hung in the darkness, their eyes glowing with the hunger of predators.
It was hopeless.
And then the void cracked.
The Shattered Sky
Light fissured across the battlefield, as though reality itself were breaking apart. The dwarves recoiled, fearing a new Woltein terror weapon but then they saw.
From those fractures, titans emerged.
The first was a fortress of steel, shaped like a floating island, bristling with weaponry: cannons, laser towers, gatling turrets, missile pods, and a triple-barrel siege cannon that radiated annihilation. A mothership. A small mothership, if such a word could describe the leviathan.
More rifts split wide. More motherships followed. Some larger, bristling with firepower enough to shatter stars. And then the void darkened as something vast eclipsed the stars: a Flagship Mothership, its hull a continent of Cosmic Steel, runes burning gold across its plates.
The dwarves gasped.
And the rifts did not stop.
Frigates swarmed out like locusts of light. Destroyers rolled forward in endless lines. Cruisers gleamed with runes, battlecruisers thundered, and Behemoth Dreadnaughts drifted forward like celestial leviathans.
Then came three silhouettes unlike any other.
One, radiant in gold and crimson, prow carved like a lion's mane ablaze.One, sleek in emerald and silver, a dragon coiled upon its hull.One, draped in crimson and dark light, ominous as a blood-red eclipse.
The Behemoth Starships of Arthur Ashborne, Hao Yue, and Helior Dravion.
For the first time, dwarves felt awe, not despair.
The wolves, however, hesitated. For the first time, doubt cracked their arrogance.
Then the war start with Golden Lion Empire initiated.
The Golden Lion Empire fired.
The void ignited with beams of light, missiles streaking, cannons roaring in unison. Entire elven frontlines wooden-steel vessels armed with runic bows and plasma ballistae were obliterated in seconds. Absolutes caught too close were erased in fire, their bodies dissolving before they could even cry out.
The Woltein retaliated, their ion cannons screaming through the void. Each beam could slice through a moon, annihilate a fortress. The dwarves flinched, expecting the Golden Lion ships to crumble.
Instead, the beams vanished.
They struck shimmering Ena Shields, absorbed like rain into sand. Not even scorch marks remained.
Then came the Golden Lions' reply.
The triple-barrel cannons of the motherships fired again. Each shot struck with the weight of a dying star. Woltein dreadnaughts flared, shields cracked, hulls split apart like paper. Where once the wolves had been the terror of galaxies, now they were prey before the hunters.
The battlefield became chaos.
The Absolutes Unleashed
"Deploy the Absolutes!" barked Admiral Paenu Woluin, panic lacing his command.
Thousands of wolf Absolutes streaked forward, energy blazing, weapons raised.
But from the Golden Lion Behemoth Starships, hatches opened. Capsules, shaped like drilling rockets, shot into the void. They tore through Absolutes, detonating among elven ranks, blasting apart ships before embedding into empty space.
And from them emerged the storm.
Three hundred thousand Absolutes.
They spread across the void like fire. Their combined aura warped space itself, a crushing tide that made even seasoned warriors falter.
The wolves froze. The elves quailed.
Admiral Paenu and the Grand Elders stared in horror. They had thought the Golden Lion Empire a rival power to crush. Instead, they faced an Overlord Civilization.
Now despair belonged to them.
The Marshals of Lions
At the center of the storm floated three figures.
Arthur Ashborne, clad in crimson-gold Stellar Armor, his sword gleaming with a predator's smile.Hao Yue, emerald-silver halberd spinning arcs of dragonfire.Helior Dravion, vast and terrible, clad in crimson-dark steel, White Void Greatsword humming with hunger.
Arthur grinned. "Been too long. I've missed this."
Hao Yue smirked. "First to a hundred kills wins."
Arthur tilted his head. "You're on."
Helior rumbled like a mountain shifting. "Brothers. Don't trip. I'll take the wolf admiral." His eyes locked on Paenu. "He'll do."
They vanished.
Helior vs Paenu
Helior's greatsword fell like the judgment of gods. Paenu barely raised his own blade, the clash detonating a shockwave that cracked nearby ships in half.
Helior pressed forward, relentless. Each strike came heavier, faster, more merciless. Paenu staggered under the weight, his arms numbing. A slash carved across his armor, blood spraying. Desperate, he sacrificed his left arm to break free of a deadlock.
But Helior was merciless.
He spun, blade howling, and cleaved downward. Paenu tried to counter, but too late. The White Void Greatsword split him, severing head from body. His corpse drifted lifeless.
Helior exhaled, smiling grimly. "A fine warm-up."
Arthur vs Kulein & Juriam
Two Grand Elders charged, blades flashing. Arthur's crimson blade blurred in response.
One heartbeat.
Two.
The Elders' heads spun away from their bodies.
Arthur flicked the blood from his blade, sighing. "Too slow."
Hao Yue vs Laqo & Uriaznui
The dragon halberd danced. Laqo and Uriaznui struck with dual blades, but Hao Yue grinned.
His halberd clicked.
A shotgun burst erupted from its haft, blasting them back. He lunged, piercing shields, nearly impaling hearts. They twisted, sacrificing arms to survive but now crippled.
"Pathetic." Hao Yue swept his halberd again.
Laqo split in half at the waist.Uriaznui screamed before being split from crown to heel.
Hao Yue spun his weapon with a laugh. "That's four for me."
The Adjutants' War
Amid the storm, the adjutants carved their own legends.
Lizia Ethereal, Eternal Shield raised, intercepted ion blasts meant for her legion. She struck down Absolutes who slipped through, stood against suicidal charges, and held her line unbroken. To her comrades, she was a wall, a mother, a bastion.
Natalya Vladimir, adjutant of Helior, mirrored her counterpart. Twin tower-shields glowed with Voidsteel and Lightsteel enchantments. She locked formations, crushed Absolutes against her shields, and stood like an immovable mountain for the Obsidian Tiger Legion.
Roland Thorne, adjutant of Hao Yue, was chaos incarnate. Laughing as he cleaved into enemy warships, he split corridors, butchered crews, and tore vessels apart with raw fury before leaping to the next. Entire ships fell under his rampage.
Together, they were bastion, shield, and storm the hidden triad of Golden Lion strength.
The Elves' Last Stand
With Absolutes gone, the elves rallied Eternal-level champions. Their wooden-steel fleets swarmed, numbers endless.
But against Golden Lion firepower, they were nothing. Motherships tore them apart in salvos. Cruisers exploded like dry twigs in flame.
At last, only one remained: a steel-plated flagship, massive and proud.
Within, Eluis Elfish stared at the burning void. His army was gone. His pride turned to ash.
He saw the laser beam coming, filling his vision.
And he closed his eyes.
The flagship exploded, him with it.
Aftermath
The void fell silent. Debris drifted, corpses floated, blood boiled away in vacuum.
On dwarven ships, cheers erupted. Tears fell freely. The despair that had nearly broken them turned into roaring triumph.
Upon the dwarven flagship, Arthur Ashborne descended. His armor gleamed unmarred, his face calm, as though he had merely strolled through a garden.
Emperor Thorine Steelsword dropped to one knee. "Lord of Lions. You have saved us. On behalf of the dwarves, we give you eternal thanks."
Arthur dismissed it with a wave. "We came, we fought, and now we go. Celebrate your freedom, Friend of Golden Lion. Our war marches on."
Thorine bowed lower. "Then may your blades strike true."
Arthur turned, eyes already fixed on distant stars. "They always do."
And with that, the Golden Lion fleet vanished into warp, leaving the dwarves free at last while the echoes of lions' roars lingered across broken skies.