Yang Hao closed his eyes and thought for a moment. Then, surprisingly, he proposed an even more outrageous plan.
“Order all fleets to surround the Lian’ou Star Arm and launch indiscriminate long-range attacks on all defensive planets and Death Star fortresses.”
“What?” Long Yun was stunned, unable to believe his own ears.
If the previous idea was the worst in the world, Yang Hao’s suggestion had clearly stolen that title.
Anyone with even a basic military understanding would never go this far.
As is well known, whether heavy spacecraft or defensive installations, all possess energy shields to absorb attacks. Unless a full salvo is launched, the shields won’t break until their energy is completely depleted.
Therefore, earlier on, Long Yun and the others had planned to concentrate the fleet’s energy for a full salvo, aiming to break through the shields of several planets and destroy them.
However, Yang Hao’s suggestion meant abandoning the chance for a coordinated salvo, engaging in chaotic, random fire, not relying on the number of ships but on total energy reserves.
Everyone knew that the idiot general had accumulated an immeasurable amount of energy over the years, all stored within the star arm. The energy of the entire Lian’ou Star Arm was practically inexhaustible.
But Long Yun’s fleet was different. Being far from their base meant energy shortages. Once the battle began, if it couldn’t be resolved quickly, maintaining the energy shields for such a massive fleet would consume an astronomical amount of energy, which would deplete rapidly.
At that point, the entire fleet would truly become isolated boats in space, unable even to flee.
Long Yun voiced the strongest opposition, but Yang Hao appeared very confident. Although this was his first battle as commander, Yang Hao clearly knew—he would only win, never lose.
As the battle began, even General Huage found it hard to understand. He could hardly believe the sight on the screen. The United Federation forces fought like three-year-olds, firing randomly from a distance without any specific targets. This kind of boundless, chaotic combat strategy could never break through the star arm’s defenses.
Although the enemy’s attacks were scattered, they were numerous. Across the cosmos, countless particle beams and tiered weapons formed lines of attack glowing like rainbows, lighting up the entire universe like daylight.
In this high-density, chaotic barrage, Huage’s only choice was to activate the energy shields and order all defensive planets, including the internal Death Star fortresses, to counterattack.
Of course, the counterattacks were also chaotic and disorganized.
After more than ten hours of fighting, the battle had become bizarre to the point of being comical.
Despite the deafening explosions, the dazzling lights, and the surging energies, the casualty ratio remained zero.
The greatest offensive-defensive battle in the galaxy was, so far, nothing more than a joke.
But that wouldn’t last long.
Amidst the most chaotic confusion, Yang Hao had already quietly left the *Doomsday* battleship, floating in the glittering cosmic space. Naturally, in such a massive, chaotic battle, no ship would notice him.
Because now, every part of the star arm’s defenses was in a state of random firing, basically whoever shot at them, they shot back, with absolutely no strategic plan or unified attack organization.
This was exactly what Yang Hao wanted. Only in chaos, the most extreme chaos, could he accomplish something unimaginable.
Now, Yang Hao faced a single, particularly arrogant defensive planet on the Lian’ou Star Arm’s defensive chain. Calling it a defensive planet was almost an insult to its glorious image, for its entire surface was densely packed with countless turrets.
It housed hundreds of thousands of interstellar missiles, half a million magnetic railgun turrets, and a million each of particle cannon and laser cannon turrets. In short, apart from the turrets, there was practically nothing else on this planet. It was the strongest offensive force in the entire defensive chain. In this chaotic battle, it alone accounted for the firepower of several defensive planets, a true offensive powerhouse.
But Yang Hao chose it precisely because of its strong offensive power. Strong offense usually meant weak defense—a timeless truth.
This was where Yang Hao would strike. Floating like a god in the void, his eyes saw not the endless battlefield around him, but only his target—a planet spewing fire in a frenzy, completely unaware that death was about to descend upon it.
Ripples of energy surged around Yang Hao as he began to employ the secret technique of the Dan Ding Sect—the method passed down by Tian Xuanzi, capable of drawing power from stars.
This method was not easy to achieve. Otherwise, the Supreme wouldn’t have needed to spend so much time supporting the Galactic Empire’s expansion and establishing the vast Elder Council.
The secret technique of drawing power from stars had a major flaw.
That was—the practitioner was extremely vulnerable at the beginning of the ritual. Even a Celestial like the Supreme, when absorbing the energy of even a single planet, was as fragile as paper. A single missile might be enough to kill him.
The Supreme would never take such a risk, so he only performed the grand ritual of drawing power on planets completely devoid of threats.
Precisely for this reason, he mobilized the Galactic Empire to conquer half the galaxy, systematically clearing populations region by region, all to absorb energy without risk.
But Yang Hao had no such luxury now. He faced the largest war in history, with countless ships and turrets forming an impenetrable web of fire.
Therefore, Yang Hao could only use this method—using indiscriminate attacks to distract the enemy, waiting for the moment when no one noticed his divine presence.
That moment was now.
Dressed in the black United Federation marshal’s uniform, Yang Hao’s tall, slender figure appeared even more magnificent amidst the blazing battle. He coldly extended his hand, pointing at the planet below, still furiously firing its cannons.
Suddenly, Yang Hao’s entire body trembled violently. His face turned pale as he looked up, sensing all his strength slipping away.
But something far more terrifying occurred below—the planet itself began to quake, its rotation reversing violently. Then, streams of silvery, radiant energy rapidly flowed from the planet and poured into Yang Hao’s palm.
The entire battle of the Lian’ou Star Arm gradually ceased. The fierce exchanges between hundreds of thousands of ships and massive planets quieted from deafening thunder to a slow silence.
Because everyone witnessed a shocking, unbelievable scene.
That arrogant defensive planet, moments ago invincible, was rapidly withering under Yang Hao’s influence.
Whether viewed on screens or with the naked eye, it was clear—the planet’s white atmosphere rapidly dissipated, its plants and limited animal life dying in an instant. All the energy from the countless turrets flowed into the radiant energy stream, completely drained by Yang Hao.
Within minutes, the entire planet was utterly desiccated, transformed into a lifeless, energy-devoid dead world.
To the eyes of the Galactic Empire’s soldiers, it was as simple as Yang Hao waving his hand.
A single wave of the Immortal War God’s hand, and a planet was destroyed—completely annihilated. What kind of power was this?
General Huage had just lit a cigarette when he saw this mind-shattering scene. He sat there, stunned, fingers trembling until the cigarette burned down to his fingertip before he jolted back to reality.
Too powerful—Yang Hao was too powerful. This was something no human could do. Only a god in the universe could possess such strength.
General Huage had been confident in his defenses. He knew his star arm defense belt was an unbreakable fortress. Even if a great price was paid to breach the outer defenses, completely eliminating the entire defensive empire remained impossible.
But now, he began to doubt his confidence.
Because what he faced was not simply an army—it was a god, facing the wrath of a god.
When Huage saw Yang Hao transform into a golden light, piercing through the now-dead defensive planet and entering the star arm’s interior through the breach, he finally jumped up, screaming hysterically, “Death Star! Quickly deploy Death Stars to intercept him! Destroy him!!”
Although panic gripped the Galactic Empire’s forces, Huage’s orders were still carried out without hesitation.
More than fifty Death Star fortresses were now fanning out, converging on Yang Hao’s entry point.
Even at his incredible speed, Yang Hao couldn’t directly cross the entire star arm. He was flying through a massive barrier, and the immense friction at speeds exceeding light created flames trailing behind him like a comet’s tail, making him highly visible.
Destroying that defensive planet was not only a morale boost for Yang Hao—it was to tear open a defensive gap, allowing him to fly into the star arm’s core.
Long Yun’s plan wasn’t impossible to execute, but the executor had changed.
Small assault squadrons couldn’t complete such a critical mission. They would be doomed to destruction under the Death Star fortresses’ onslaught.
Therefore, Yang Hao decided to take on the entire fleet’s mission alone. He would fly to the very heart of the star arm, destroy Huage’s command ship, and paralyze the entire defensive arm.
Just as Yang Hao’s long trail of flame was about to reach the star arm’s core, finally, two Death Star fortresses arrived.
When these two Death Star fortresses unfolded into combat formation before Yang Hao, the Imperial forces finally felt relieved. They knew no one could pass through the defenses of two Death Stars.
Death Star fortresses were specially designed for combat, bristling with massive weaponry. Unlike ships, fleets required high maneuverability and teamwork.
But each Death Star fortress alone possessed immense power. With built-in powerful energy sources, their shields could remain active for a full month. On a spherical body the size of a small satellite, countless turrets and offensive weapons were mounted. Dozens of anti-nuclear thrusters enabled movement in battle, making them flying fortresses capable of independent combat in space.
In Imperial military textbooks, it was generally believed that two Death Star fortresses could resist a fully equipped fleet, even one containing battleships.
Yet now, these two Death Star fortresses faced only one man.
To ordinary eyes, even if Yang Hao possessed the power to drain an entire planet, he might not be able to break through this checkpoint immediately. Just a slight delay would allow the remaining fifty Death Stars to arrive, and even a god would be destroyed.
Indeed, the turrets on the two Death Stars fired almost simultaneously. Particle cannons, magnetic railguns, and laser cannons poured like waterfalls onto Yang Hao’s protective barrier. The immense impact forced Yang Hao to retreat several steps.
The purpose of these two Death Stars was not to kill Yang Hao—it was an impossible task. They only needed to hold him back for a few minutes. Once the main Death Star forces arrived, this battle would be a complete victory.
War was all about time.
Yang Hao gazed at the two Death Stars from afar, a surge of intense killing intent rising in his heart. This kind of intent was something Yang Hao had never possessed before. In the past, he had been upright and kind. But now, as a true leader, Yang Hao clearly understood—only by killing could he stop killing. That was the only way.
A silver longaxe appeared in Yang Hao’s hand. The moment the God’s Axe emerged, its radiant glow enveloped the entire star arm in silver light, before the glow had even faded.
Yang Hao had already appeared like a celestial deity above one of the Death Stars.
“Roar!!” Yang Hao roared, swinging the axe down without any flourish. On the God’s Axe, a silver axe blade dozens of kilometers long appeared, striking the Death Star like thunder.
Boom!! BOOM!!!!
Incredible energy poured from the God’s Axe. The Death Star’s energy shield shattered almost without resistance. The entire alloy-forged Death Star was completely pierced by the silver axe blade, split cleanly in two from top to bottom.
Sparks and intense arcs of electricity illuminated the void as the massive Death Star slowly divided into two halves. All its turrets fell silent. Even the starlight in the universe paled in comparison to the brilliance of the Death Star’s explosion.
Yang Hao, axe in hand, seemed to stand atop the fiery explosion, not even glancing sideways. The silver axe swept again. This time, a dragon’s roar erupted from it. The astonishing shockwave, like a tidal wave, sent the remaining Death Star spinning out of orbit. It tumbled several times in space before the soundwave invaded its interior, causing it to explode from within outward.
In the blink of an eye, the two indestructible Death Star fortresses were no more, ending in Yang Hao’s hands.
Two massive fireballs, perhaps insignificant in the vast cosmos, were like death warrants to the Imperial forces. They couldn’t even imagine that such power could exist in this world.
The title of the Undying War God would, after today’s battle, once again shine across the entire universe.
“What?!” Huage exclaimed, seeing the explosion of the death star on the screen. He jumped up from his chair as if he had been electrocuted. “How could this happen? Who is that person?”
“A god.” The next second after Huage cried out in shock, a figure with a silver axe appeared aboard Huage’s command ship and said calmly, “You may call me a god.”
Huage’s face turned pale. His general’s uniform was not even properly worn; his collar was open, and he looked utterly dejected. He already knew who stood before him.
It was an extremely young officer. The uniform and white cape with its insignia clearly marked him as the supreme commander of the United Federation’s army, the legendary warrior known as the Undying War God.
Though fear surged within him, Huage’s disciplined training still compelled him to stand at attention and salute Yang Hao. “Marshal!”
Yang Hao, as the supreme ruler of the United Federation and concurrently the Marshal of its military, nodded. He then glanced at the glowing buttons on the command ship and asked, “You are General Huage, the defender of this star arm?”
“That’s me!” Huage’s particle gun was still at his waist, yet for some unknown reason, he lacked the courage to draw it, as if the man before him truly was his marshal.
Yang Hao nodded. “Your defense was well-arranged.”
But this sentence, to Huage’s ears, sounded more like mockery. He bitterly smiled and said, “The marshal is too kind. In front of you, it’s like child’s play.”
“No,” Yang Hao shook his head, stepping directly in front of Huage and locking eyes with him. “You’re wrong. Your efforts are not child’s play.”
“Huh?” Huage was taken aback.
Yang Hao pointed at the screen, where the battle had almost halted. All the imperial defenders had seen Yang Hao rush into the core base, and without orders from their commander, almost no one dared to counterattack.
Meanwhile, Long Yun, wary of Yang Hao’s safety, had ordered a temporary ceasefire.
Thus, an unexpected calm settled across this region of space.
Yang Hao smiled faintly, then said to Huage, “General, what you faced was a force more than twice the size of the entire Galactic Empire’s fleet. Yet you did not retreat or give up. Your courage alone proves that you are a true soldier.”
Huage’s lips trembled slightly, but waves of emotion surged within him.
“A true soldier”—the term seemed so distant, so far removed from his reality.
Ten years ago, a line of proud and ambitious young talents had walked through the gates of the Empire’s highest military academy. Among them, the top five were aristocrats who had entered the academy with the best scores of that year. In the years that followed, they lived up to expectations, becoming the most brilliant stars in the Empire’s military, rising to become high-ranking officials in the Privy Council and commanders of the main fleets, their reputations growing ever higher.
Yet no one had noticed the thin, frail youth at the very end of that line—Huage. He was merely the son of a commoner, without the backing of a powerful family. His entrance exam scores were poor, the worst among that year’s cadets.
By all logic, a cadet like him would barely make it into the Imperial Army, and reaching the rank of major general would be considered a blessing from his ancestors.
Under the gaze of skepticism from others, Huage silently worked hard. He abandoned the popular choice of fleet command, opting instead to specialize in defensive tactics. Over the years, he not only mastered the Empire’s entire defensive warfare theory but also authored several treatises on combat strategy.
Yet, in the end, birthright proved crucial for any officer.
Despite his academic achievements, Huage was assigned to command the remote Lotus Arm of the Empire, with the rank of major general feeling more like a consolation prize.
Huage never got the chance to prove his abilities. He had never received an opportunity to show that he, too, could be among the Empire’s most brilliant generals.
This was why Huage refused to give up resistance—he wanted to seize this once-in-a-lifetime chance. Even if it meant dying in this war, he wanted his name to be remembered in history.
“No one will forget your name, General Huage,” Yang Hao seemed to know exactly what Huage was thinking. He extended two fingers and gently pressed them against Huage’s major general insignia. “History of the universe will record your name. You will be remembered for today’s battle. Everyone will know you as the greatest defensive officer in the cosmos. You are worthy of the title ‘legendary general.'”
“Am I truly a legendary general?” Huage struggled to hold back tears threatening to spill from his eyes. He raised his head, forcing the tears to remain in his eyes. Until now, his defenses had not truly succeeded. In fact, Yang Hao had easily breached them. This battle seemed like a defeat—one that came too easily.
“You certainly are,” Yang Hao nodded. “In just one year, without any support from the Empire, you built a formidable defensive line by yourself. Your defenses are not easily broken. Even your seniors, your teachers, your mentors—none could find a way through. The United Federation’s General Staff had to admit that breaking through your defenses would cost half our fleet. Throughout the entire Empire, who else could have withstood my fleet? Only you.”
“But I still lost,” Huage said, his voice heavy with despair. He felt he had failed to grasp the only opportunity in his life. He had known the Empire was destined to fall, yet he gambled one last time—and lost.
“No one can fight against a god,” Yang Hao said, his body radiating divine light that even pierced through the command ship and spread into space. He wasn’t boasting. He continued to stare at Huage calmly.
After today’s battle, the title of the Undying War God will once again shine brightly across the universe.
“What?!” Hua Ge sprang up from his chair as if electrocuted when he saw the flames from the exploding Death Star on the screen. “How could this happen? Who is that person?”
“A god.” The moment Hua Ge exclaimed, a figure wielding a silver axe appeared on his command ship and spoke calmly, “You may call me a god.”
Hua Ge’s face turned deathly pale. His general’s uniform was disheveled, the collar unbuttoned, making him look utterly defeated. He already knew who stood before him.
It was an extremely young officer, his uniform adorned with epaulets and a white cape, unmistakably marking him as the supreme commander of the Allied Federation’s military—the legendary Undying War God.
Despite his fear, Hua Ge’s discipline compelled him to stand at attention and salute Yang Hao. “Marshal!”
Yang Hao, the supreme leader of the Allied Federation and concurrently its military marshal, nodded. His sharp eyes scanned the illuminated buttons on the command ship before asking, “You are General Hua Ge, the defense officer of the Star Arm?”
“That’s me!” Hua Ge’s particle gun was holstered at his waist, yet for some reason, he lacked the courage to draw it. It was as if the man before him truly was his marshal.
Yang Hao nodded. “Your defensive arrangements are quite impressive.”
To Hua Ge, however, the words sounded more like mockery. He forced a bitter smile. “Marshal, you flatter me. Compared to you, my efforts are like a child’s toys.”
“No.” Yang Hao shook his head and stepped directly in front of Hua Ge, his piercing gaze fixed on him. “You’re mistaken. Your efforts are not toys.”
“Huh?” Hua Ge was taken aback.
Yang Hao pointed to the screen. The battle had nearly come to a standstill. All imperial guards had witnessed Yang Hao storming the core base, and without orders from their commanders, none dared to counterattack.
Even Long Yun, wary of Yang Hao’s safety, had ordered a temporary ceasefire.
Thus, the universe had suddenly fallen into an eerie silence.
Yang Hao smiled faintly before addressing Hua Ge again. “General, you faced a force twice the size of the entire Galactic Empire’s fleet. Yet you neither retreated nor surrendered. Your courage has proven you a true soldier.”
Hua Ge’s lips twitched, but his heart stirred with emotion.
A true soldier—those words seemed so distant to Hua Ge.
A decade ago, outside the Empire’s top military academy, a line of ambitious young talents had marched forward. The first five were the cream of the noble families, having entered the academy with the highest scores that year. Over time, they lived up to expectations, becoming the Empire’s brightest stars—high-ranking officials in the Privy Council and commanders of major fleets, their reputations soaring.
But no one had noticed the frail young man at the end of the line—Hua Ge. A commoner with no influential family backing, his entrance scores were the lowest among his peers.
By all logic, such a cadet would at best rise to the rank of major general in the Empire’s forces, if fortune favored him.
Under the skeptical gazes of others, Hua Ge quietly persevered. He abandoned the popular field of fleet command and instead specialized in defensive tactics. Over the years, he not only mastered the Empire’s defensive theories but even authored several military strategy books.
Yet, birthright remained crucial for an officer’s career.
Despite his academic achievements, Hua Ge was assigned to the remote Lotus Arm as its garrison commander—a consolation prize at the rank of major general.
Hua Ge never had the chance to prove his worth, never had an opportunity to show he too could be one of the Empire’s brightest stars.
That was why he refused to surrender. He seized this one chance in his life, even if it meant dying in battle, to etch his name into history.
“No one will forget your name, General Hua Ge.” Yang Hao seemed to read his thoughts. He pressed two fingers lightly on Hua Ge’s major general epaulet. “The annals of the universe will record your name. You will be remembered for today’s battle. Everyone will know you as the greatest defensive officer in this universe. You live up to your reputation as a legendary commander.”
“Am I a legendary commander?” Hua Ge fought back tears, tilting his head to keep them from falling. Until now, his defenses had failed to hold, breached effortlessly by Yang Hao. By all accounts, he had lost—and lost decisively.
“You are,” Yang Hao affirmed. “In just one year, without the Empire’s support, you single-handedly built an impregnable defensive line. No one could break through your arrangements easily—not your seniors, your teachers, or your predecessors. The Allied Federation’s General Staff estimated that breaching your defenses would cost half our fleet. Tell me, in the entire Empire, who else could stand against my fleet? Only you.”
“But I still lost.” Hua Ge slumped in defeat, feeling he had squandered his one chance. He had known the Empire was doomed but gambled everything on this final battle—and lost.
“No one can fight a god.” As Yang Hao spoke, a divine radiance emanated from him, piercing through the command ship and into the cosmos. He wasn’t boasting. His gaze remained steady on Hua Ge as he continued softly,
“At the Battle of Elder Mountain, I lost to the Supreme One. I was defeated, but I did not lose—because as long as life goes on, we have opportunities.”
“Even against a god?” A spark reignited in Hua Ge’s eyes.
Yang Hao smiled. He reached out and fastened Hua Ge’s unbuttoned uniform, even smoothing out the wrinkles. Though older than Yang Hao, Hua Ge felt like a cadet again, receiving guidance from a superior.
“General Hua Ge, I can let you go.” Yang Hao spoke as if it were the simplest thing in the world, even though destroying this base would be effortless for him. “Take your men and retreat to the Empire’s lines two thousand light-years away. I’ll give you a month to regroup and fight me again.”
With that, Yang Hao turned to leave, as though dismissing a minor inconvenience.
He seemed unconcerned that Hua Ge, once freed, might fortify his defenses so thoroughly that even Yang Hao couldn’t breach them.
What then? Would there be another way?
But Yang Hao didn’t waver. To him, this war was no longer about victory or defeat.
After two steps, Hua Ge suddenly called out, “Marshal… am I truly a legendary commander?”
Yang Hao didn’t turn around. “A legendary commander doesn’t need others to say so—because you already are.”
Hua Ge trembled. A slow, bitter yet exhilarated smile spread across his pale face.
In that instant, he understood everything. From the morning he entered the academy a decade ago, he had strived to prove himself—working harder than anyone, pushing himself to the limit, even after being exiled to the frontier.
Even knowing the Empire’s inevitable fall, he fought this battle as his final chance to prove his worth.
But Hua Ge had overlooked one thing: he was already recognized as a legendary commander in others’ eyes. Even Long Yun, who called him a fool, couldn’t deny his brilliance. If he was already acknowledged, why keep proving it?
Why waste millions of lives just to satisfy his own stubbornness?
Hua Ge’s face regained its former glory—the same pride he had felt as a young cadet stepping through the academy gates. He snapped to attention and saluted Yang Hao’s retreating figure with perfect form.
“Marshal, the Lotus Arm Defense Corps pledges its loyalty to you!”
Yang Hao paused before turning back. “You’ve made your decision?”
Hua Ge’s expression was solemn. “I have. I should have made it long ago. I do not support the Elder Council. We all know you represent justice. Only you can restore the Empire’s glory. No soldier wishes to support those who murdered Emperor Yinglie. We fought because fighting was all we knew.”
Yang Hao nodded in understanding. To a soldier, their purpose was to fight. Hua Ge’s year of tireless defense wasn’t for surrender—it was to uphold a warrior’s dignity, no matter the cost.
“But now it’s different.” Hua Ge smiled. “As you said, we no longer need to prove ourselves. Our dignity, our worth, lies in standing with justice—in winning this universe’s victory.”
“Winning this universe’s victory?” Yang Hao was surprised by Hua Ge’s words, but after a moment’s thought, he realized the newly surrendered general had spoken a profound truth.
Why had Yang Hao started this war? Why had Emperor Yinglie challenged the Elder Council?
Neither acted out of ambition or the need to prove anything. There was only one reason—the same reason Hua Ge had just voiced.
To win this universe’s victory.
Only this justification could drive Yang Hao to wage war, honor Emperor Yinglie’s sacrifice, and inspire the legendary commanders and high-ranking officers to willingly lay down their lives.
But now, victory was within Yang Hao’s grasp.
Just as he prepared to order Hua Ge to stand down and formally accept the Allied Federation’s command, the command ship’s radar erupted in frantic alarms.
Not just his ship—every vessel in the Lotus Arm’s fleet blared the same deafening warning, their cries echoing across the cosmos like a tidal wave.
Red lights flashed in every command center.
The highest-level red alert—reserved for imminent, unstoppable annihilation—had been triggered in the midst of newfound peace.
Hua Ge tensed. Even the Allied Federation’s overwhelming forces hadn’t warranted a red alert. He lunged for the console and roared, “What’s happening?!”
“General! Twelve o’clock direction!” The soldier’s voice was filled with despair.
Every spacefaring warrior knew what a red alert meant. It surpassed even the blue alert for an unbeatable foe—this signaled that the fleet faced total destruction with no hope of resistance.
No hope of resistance!!!
In the Lotus Arm, with Hua Ge’s meticulously crafted defenses and the formidable, near-mythical fleet of the Three-Crystal Sea System, this was supposed to be the most unassailable force in the universe.
Yet the approaching threat promised their utter annihilation.
Through the massive screen, Yang Hao and Hua Ge saw the twelve o’clock direction. The cosmos appeared undisturbed—except for a sudden wormhole, dozens of kilometers wide, shimmering with surreal colors.
No wormhole had existed there before.
While some in the Empire could tear open small wormholes through mastery of spatial laws, none could create one of this magnitude.
“What… will emerge from that?” Hua Ge listened to the ship’s frantic alarms but grew calmer by the second.
Yang Hao’s assessment of him as a legendary commander was spot-on. Despite being only in his thirties, Hua Ge possessed the most crucial trait of a commander—composure in chaos.
Standing at the helm, Hua Ge issued a series of orders with astonishing calm. First, he silenced all defensive alarms, then redirected all firepower toward the wormhole.
His commands effectively abandoned resistance against the Allied Federation, focusing entirely on the unknown threat emerging from the wormhole. He trusted his defenses implicitly—nothing should render his Star Arm’s fortifications helpless.
But Yang Hao gave a completely opposite order.
Retreat.
“Even against a god?” Huage’s eyes reignited with hope.
Yang Hao smiled. He reached out and fastened Huage’s loosely buttoned uniform, even smoothing out the wrinkles. Though Huage was older than Yang Hao, in that moment, he felt like a cadet again, receiving instruction from a superior officer.
“General Huage, I can let you go,” Yang Hao said casually. Despite being aboard Huage’s warship, he could destroy it in an instant. “Take your men and leave. Regroup two thousand light-years away at the Empire’s front line and set up your defenses again. I’ll give you one month. Then we’ll fight again.”
After saying this, Yang Hao turned and began to leave, as if he had just done something simple and ordinary—as if he hadn’t just let go of a major threat.
It seemed Yang Hao hadn’t considered that if Huage escaped today’s predicament, his next defense might be even tighter, perhaps even impenetrable to Yang Hao himself.
What then? Would there truly be another way?
But Yang Hao did not change his decision. In his eyes, this war was no longer about victory or defeat.
After walking a few steps, Huage suddenly spoke, “Marshal, am I truly a legendary general?”
Yang Hao, still with his back turned, replied, “A legendary general doesn’t need others to confirm it, because you already are one.”
Huage was stunned. Slowly, a smile emerged on his pale face—bitter, yet filled with excitement.
In that instant, he suddenly understood everything. Since that morning ten years ago when he entered the military academy as the last in line, he had always tried to prove himself—working harder than others, striving more than others, even persisting after being exiled to the frontier.
Even knowing the Empire was doomed to lose, he still fought this battle, seeing it as his final chance to prove himself.
But Huage had overlooked one thing—he had already become a legendary general in the eyes of others. Even Long Yun, who often called him a fool, had to admit Huage’s strength. If he was already a recognized legendary general, why did he still need to prove it?
Why waste the lives of millions of soldiers just to satisfy his own obsession?
Huage’s face regained its former dignity—the same dignity he had felt standing at the end of the line of cadets on that day he entered the academy. He snapped his feet together and gave Yang Hao’s back the most standard military salute. “Marshal, the Lotus Arm Defense Force hereby pledges allegiance to you!”
Yang Hao was silent for a moment before turning to face Huage. “Have you decided?”
Huage’s expression was solemn. “I have. I should have made this decision long ago.
“I do not support the Privy Council. We both know you represent justice. Only you can restore the Empire’s former glory. No soldier wishes to support those who murdered Emperor Yinglie. We fought because we had no choice—we had to fight to maintain our honor as warriors. A whole year of painstaking preparation was not meant for surrender. No matter how reluctant, we must preserve the dignity of a soldier.”
“But now is different,” Huage smiled. “As you said, we no longer need to prove ourselves. Our honor, our value, lies in standing on the side of justice and winning victory for the universe.”
“Winning victory for the universe?” Yang Hao was surprised by Huage’s words, but after a moment’s reflection, he realized that this newly surrendered general had spoken a truth.
Why had Yang Hao launched this war? Why had Emperor Yinglie challenged the Privy Council?
They did not do it for personal ambition, nor to prove anything. The only reason was exactly what Huage had just said.
To win victory for the universe.
Only this reason could justify Yang Hao’s massive campaign, only this reason could make Emperor Yinglie’s death an honorable one, only this reason could make legendary generals and high-ranking officials willingly sacrifice their lives in this war.
But now, victory was already in Yang Hao’s grasp.
Just as Yang Hao was about to order Huage to dismantle all defenses and formally accept the United Federation’s command, the radar in the command cabin began to shriek frantically.
Not only that, but the radars aboard every warship in the entire Lotus star system began to scream in unison, their piercing wails echoing across space like a rising tide.
Red warning lights flashed in every command cabin.
The highest-level red alert had erupted, shattering the fragile peace that had just arrived.
Huage immediately tensed. Even when facing the United Federation’s massive fleet, the red alert had never been triggered. He rushed to the command console and roared, “What’s happening?”
“General! Twelve o’clock direction!!” The soldier’s voice was filled with despair.
Every star soldier knew exactly what a red alert meant. It was a level higher than the blue alert, which was reserved for facing an invincible enemy. This red alert meant that the artificial intelligence had determined the fleet was about to face an enemy that could destroy them without any resistance.
Without any resistance at all!
In the Lotus star system, there was Huage, the Empire’s finest defensive general, who had painstakingly built an intricate defensive network. There was also the formidable fleet from the Three Crystal Sea star system.
Together, they were considered the most unbeatable force in the universe.
Yet the incoming attack was one they could not resist at all.
Through the massive screen, Yang Hao and Huage both looked toward the twelve o’clock direction. Yet at this moment, there was no great disturbance in space—only a wormhole, about dozens of kilometers wide, suddenly appeared.
This alone was shocking enough—there had never been a wormhole in this region before.
Of course, some space experts in the Empire could create small wormholes for individuals. But this wormhole was dozens of kilometers wide, glowing with dazzling, surreal colors.
“What… will come out of that?” Huage listened to the frantic alarms aboard the ship, yet strangely, he felt himself growing calmer and calmer.
Yang Hao’s assessment of him as a legendary general was spot on. This general, barely over thirty, possessed the most crucial quality of a commander—remaining calm in chaos.
Standing at the command console, Huage issued a series of orders in a surprisingly calm voice. First, he shut down all red alerts across the defensive network, then ordered all defensive firepower to target the wormhole.
Huage’s orders practically abandoned resistance against the United Federation’s forces and instead focused on building a new defensive line against whatever might emerge from the wormhole. He had full confidence in his defensive capabilities. In his mind, nothing could render this star arm’s defenses completely helpless.
But Yang Hao issued a completely opposite order.
Retreat.
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