Meanwhile, at the Main Headquarters of the Woltein Empire
Within the grand throne chamber of the Silver Citadel, the metallic roars of colliding mechs shook the heavens themselves. Lord Marshal Fenrir Valen, the Silver Wolf, danced amidst three of Woltein's strongest his movements a blur of silver light and killing intent.
His mech armor, forged from Energy Adamantite, gleamed like a silver comet. From his gauntlets extended four crescent-shaped blades Energy Adamantite Claws curving and folding like fangs of a celestial beast. Each swing sang through the air, and every impact echoed with the sound of collapsing metal.
Grand Protector Jakal Williom, dual energy sabers ignited, lunged forward with blinding speed. Fenrir twisted his mech's wrist, parrying both sabers in a single motion, sparks raining like a storm of silver flame. He spun with thruster-assisted precision, his mech's boots igniting in azure thrust, delivering a brutal kick that sent Jakal crashing into a pillar of the throne dais.
But there was no time to celebrate.Supreme General Wyzner Wolvet descended from above, energy sword drawn in a sweeping arc aimed for Fenrir's waist, while Woltie Wolfein flashed behind him, twin Shadow Daggers poised for Fenrir's throat.
Fenrir reacted instantly. A pulse of condensed energy erupted from his palm a shockwave that blasted Woltie backward. At the same instant, his claw met Wyzner's sword in a thunderous clash that split the air. Fenrir spun, body twisting like a cyclone, his blades carving a silver storm toward Woltie, who barely raised his daggers in time. The impact sent both combatants skidding backward, their energy shields flaring to full power.
Fenrir pressed the attack, his boosters roaring as he blurred across the floor. Woltie gritted his teeth, daggers crossing again to block the oncoming storm of claws. Then CLANG! a third blade of energy intercepted Fenrir's strike. Jakal had rejoined the fight, his twin sabers forming a barrier of burning light.
"Still breathing, Grand Protector?" Fenrir's voice was cold and amused.
"More than enough to kill a wolf," Jakal snarled, his sabers crossing in a flash of white fire.
Wyzner lunged again, this time in a deadly downward slash meant to cleave Fenrir in half. But the Lord Marshal raised his left claw, catching the blade with sheer force. The entire chamber trembled from the power surge that followed. Fenrir kicked Wyzner away, sending him crashing into a pillar with such impact that the metal splintered like paper.
The three elites regrouped breathing hard, shields flickering. But Fenrir Valen's aura only grew darker. The air around him distorted with raw killing intent. His mech's optical lenses flared crimson, and for a brief second, his silhouette resembled a wolf standing atop a blood-soaked battlefield.
Above the chamber, floating in the shimmering air outside the citadel, several Lord Marshals of the Golden Lion Empire observed the duel in silence. They had already finished their assigned campaigns the war outside was effectively over. The last remnants of Woltein's armies screamed in defiance, only to be silenced by disciplined volleys from Imperial Marines cold, efficient, merciless.
Inside the throne room, the tension reached its peak.
Fenrir darted forward like lightning, his claw carving through Wyzner's sword in a single stroke. The Supreme General's eyes widened in shock before the follow-up slash took his life his mech's armor torso exploding into shards of white-hot metal with his hand disappeared within it. Without pause, Fenrir turned, catching Jakal's saber mid-swing and severing both of the Grand Protector's arms in one motion. His claw pierced Jakal's heart a heartbeat later.
Woltie tried to retreat, blood boiling with fury. "You monster!"
Fenrir's voice was a growl. "You talk too much for a soldier."
His mech blurred a silver streak and then Woltie's mech armor exploded in a cloud of energy flame.
Silence fell. The three strongest of the Woltein Empire lay defeated at the feet of the Silver Wolf.
High above, several figures watched the outcome from the balcony of the headquarters' floating citadel.
Emperor Wolfar and Empress Wilia huddled in the far corner of the throne hall, their imperial robes trembling. Fear clung to them like a shadow as seven other presences filled the air each one radiating power far beyond comprehension.
These were the Lord Marshals of the Golden Lion Empire.
The one who drew their terror most was a golden-haired man whose eyes burned like miniature suns Arthur Ashborne, the 1st Lord Marshal of the Golden Lion Legion. His aura alone could crush mountains, and when he argued, space itself seemed to hum.
Across from him stood another calm, sharp-eyed, with jade-green hair and the tranquil intensity of a coiled dragon Hao Yue, Lord Marshal of the Jade Dragon Legion.
Their heated debate sent ripples through the chamber, and whenever Arthur's temper flared, his aura leaked, making even Emperor Wolfar's knees tremble.
In the background, the silent watcher Nebula Corvus, the Black Raven Lord Marshal stood motionless, observing everything through eyes like black stars.
Elsewhere, Helior Dravion of the Obsidian Tiger Legion was conversing calmly with Aetheris Pyrrhael of the Crimson Phoenix, Kaelen Tempestbane of the Verdant Griffin, and Nethis Umbryal of the Grey Mist Serpent.
Their discussion was logistical, not emotional how to handle the aftermath of Woltein's total collapse. Every Lord Marshal knew the cost of this war, but strategy had to prevail over sentiment.
Helior's deep voice resonated, "Their entire defense line's broken. Once Fenrir finishes, the Emperor's surrender is inevitable. The Golden Lion Empire's fleets can begin planetary transformation at once."
Aetheris nodded, his tone clinical. "Agreed. Deploy the Utility Ships to clear debris and harvest materials. Life-bearing planets shall be transformed into City Motherships productive zones for population and agriculture. Resource worlds will be stripped and reforged into Ena Core Refineries."
Kaelen added with a faint smirk, "And the stars themselves?"
Nethis, leaning lazily against a railing, answered with detached amusement. "Converted into Ena Core Reactors, of course. Even though the Main Mothership already produces infinite cores, the Emperor loves redundancy."
Their laughter was quiet but cold.
Back inside, the duel had ended.
Fenrir Valen's mech stood still amid smoking wreckage, the crimson haze of battle fading. His breathing was steady, his expression calm like a wolf that had finally slain its prey.
"Another empire falls," he murmured.
Behind him, Cheslie Hart, his adjutant, yawned softly from the command platform. She had almost fallen asleep waiting for the fight to end. Her mech, sleek and elegant with an Eternal Star Katana strapped to its side, shimmered in the dim light.
"Finally done?" she asked lazily through the comms. "You really enjoy these one-against-three matches, don't you?"
Fenrir chuckled faintly. "Keeps the blood warm."
Truth be told, Cheslie Hart was powerful enough to lead her own legion. Many believed she should have been the Lord Marshal of the Silver Wolf Legion. But she had refused the title long ago. Her reason was simple she preferred doing her duties, finishing paperwork, and returning home early to spend the evening with her husband, Henry Hart.
As silence returned to the throne room, the Grand Warmaster, Sol Invictus Starfall, arrived through a spatial gate. His massive armor gleamed with cosmic runes, and his voice carried authority that silenced even the crackling flames of broken machines.
"Excellent work, Fenrir."
He turned toward the other Lord Marshals. "Begin aftermath operations immediately. The Golden Lion Empire will secure all Woltein systems. Coordinate with the Abyss Prison they'll take custody of the captured officers and remaining Absolutes. The Overseers will move across all hundred galaxies to enforce order."
Helior nodded. "Understood. It will take three months at most to cleanse the entire sector."
Outside, thousands of Golden Lion Utility Ships streaked through the void, their engines glowing gold as they began collecting debris, materials, and shattered vessels. The dead worlds of Woltein would soon be reborn as living motherships vast, mobile cities of light, eternal and unyielding.
And among them all, standing silently in the center of the chaos, the Silver Wolf lifted his gaze to the golden horizon of the empire's banners his crimson eyes reflecting both exhaustion and pride.
Another war was over.The hunt, for now, had ended.