The moment the countdown hit zero, the bugs behind the Black Beetle sphere sprang into action!
Countless Void Devourers unleashed a concentrated blast against the joint shield.
Torrents of high-density stardust exploded against the barrier in bursts of sparks.
The joint shield instantly became pockmarked and dimmed by nearly half.
But the Void Devourers paid a price for that attack—they had already fired stardust streams before, and after this volley, they were completely drained of energy and fell into dormancy.
Yet no sooner had this wave of Void Devourers collapsed than a second wave surged forward to take their place.
This was entirely within the Fifth Star Ring commander’s expectations. He raised his hand and gave the order: “All missiles, fire! Saturate sectors C7 through C15. Light-spear arrays, lock onto the Black Beetle swarm and activate armor-piercing mode.”
These missiles were equipped with friendly-fire prevention systems, so the commander had no worries about accidentally hitting the command ship still trapped inside the swarm.
In an instant, countless blazing white contrails erupted from the battleships’ flanks. Thousands of interstellar missiles, trailing fiery plumes, hurtled toward the insect tide like metallic swarms of locusts.
In the vacuum of space, they bloomed into an unbroken chain of devastating flowers of destruction.
Close behind came the roar of the dreadnoughts’ main cannons.
Several thick beams of particle light tore through space, moving at absolute velocity, piercing through layers of the Black Beetles’ biological carapaces in an instant. Inside, they triggered violent energy chain-reactions, turning the bugs into brief, tragic stars.
The flashes of explosions flickered in the resolute pupils of the Fifth Star Ring soldiers. The joint shield flickered violently under the bugs’ relentless assault, teetering on the brink of overload.
The Fifth Star Ring fleet had essentially used every trick in their arsenal.
They had indeed dealt blows to the Zerg—but those blows, in the face of such a colossal swarm and the terrifying speed at which the Zerg reproduced, seemed utterly insignificant.
“They’re stronger than anything we’ve fought before,” the former Sixth Star Ring commander remarked, frowning at the statistical data.
Not only were there far more Zerg variants, but their combat methods were also outrageously aggressive.
The Fifth Star Ring commander nodded in agreement. “That’s right. Before this, the Zerg were holding back—saving their strength for a larger goal: conquering the entire star sector. But now? They’re throwing everything onto the table—expending energy, sacrificing lives, with no regard for consequences.”
The former Sixth Star Ring commander picked up the thread. “They’re locked in a life-or-death gamble with Lin Xiaohe. Either she lives, or they live.”
“Haha, we might not have a seat at that table, but we can sure as hell add some chips to her pile.”
The Fifth Star Ring commander had a sharp eye. He quickly deduced that Lin Xiaohe was likely undergoing some kind of evolution or advancement—or maybe she was charging up a big move.
In many interstellar games, characters have a long wind-up animation before unleashing their ultimate attack.
Maybe Lin Xiaohe was just in the middle of her cast bar.
Either way, judging by the Zerg’s frantic response, whatever change Lin Xiaohe was undergoing must pose a massive threat to them—which was why they were so desperate to stop her at any cost.
The Fifth Star Ring commander’s voice rang out, cutting through the roar of explosions: “All ships, hold the line! Behind us lies humanity’s last hope!”
“Sir, yes sir!”
The human fleet engaged the Zerg in a desperate, life-or-death struggle.
Both sides threw everything they had at each other, sparing no effort to annihilate the other.
The entire star sector was littered with exploding ships and flying insect limbs.
Tactics and strategy no longer mattered.
One word: clash!
Two words: fight to the death!
If you dared cross the line, the human fleet would launch suicide attacks without hesitation.
Trade one for one—that’s a win.
Trade two for one—still not a loss.
It didn’t matter what kind of bug you were; they’d just focus fire and blast away.
Ran out of artillery? Send in the mechs.
Ran out of mechs? Ram the enemy with the warships themselves.
Death didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was keeping those bugs away from Lin Xiaohe!
…
Out on the border of the Fourth Star Ring, a few “gods” were watching the spectacle with great amusement.
“I always thought Seventh Epoch human civilization was nothing but cannon fodder—completely useless. No matter what kind of crisis they faced, they’d always find a way to fight among themselves. But I never expected they could be this tough.”
“If you study human history, you’ll notice that whenever they face a massive crisis, heroic figures—shining with the light of humanity—always step up.”
“Is that some lingering trait of their souls?”
“Very likely. Rumor has it that before we arrived here, there was a civilization known as the Wu Clan civilization. The Wu were individually powerful, with a strong collective consciousness and a profound sense of self-sacrifice. They were the race that inherited the most knowledge and had the best chance of breaking out of the cage. The performance of the Fifth Star Ring soldiers reminds me of them.”
“Yet there are five whole Epochs between them, not to mention all those outside civilizations stirring up trouble—and they still managed to pass down such precious soul traits. Truly remarkable.”
“That’s the terrifying power of the Sacred Stele, isn’t it? Hard to imagine just how terrifying they’d be if they ever regained their full strength.”
“Hmph!” one of the gods said darkly. “You’d do better to think about this: if they’re so terrifying, why are they still trapped in this star sector in the first place?”
“Hahaha.” The god’s branches flailed about in laughter. “That’s way above my pay grade. First of all, I’m not even sure I’ll survive this extinction event. Second, even if I do, I’m not guaranteed to escape this cage. And finally, even if I somehow make it back home, enemies like that aren’t my problem—I’m just a lowly scout. Let the big shots worry about that.”
“You’re such a disappointment. No wonder you’re just a scout.”
The other shot back: “And you’re so impressive? If you’re so great, why are you stuck here with me as part of the barrier? Go ahead—go pick a fight with Chu Huaizhi if you’ve got the guts!”
“Damn it! If you guys weren’t holding me back, I’d totally throw down with Chu Huaizhi! Are you all brave enough to join me?”
“No thanks. I’m afraid you’d sell me out.”
The two gods bickered back and forth in their private channel.
The others sighed and tried to mediate: “Enough bickering. Focus on the show. Whether Lin Xiaohe or Zhou wins, whoever comes out on top will be our next enemy.”
The two childish gods were eventually pacified.
One rushed to say, “Zhou’s going to win, obviously. No question about it.”
The other deliberately countered: “Who says? Look at Lin Xiaohe’s current state—doesn’t it look like she’s evolving into a higher-level Abyssal Mother? If she succeeds, she’ll suppress Zhou outright on the hierarchical scale.”
“Stop dreaming. Sure, Lin Xiaohe’s body has assimilated all sorts of civilization products, but her foundation is still carbon-based biology. That fundamentally limits how far she can evolve into higher lifeforms!
Do you have any idea how hard it is to become an Abyssal Mother? Zhou spent ages at the Sacred Gate, trying to evolve successfully before entering here—and how did that turn out? If a pureblood Zerg giant mound like him couldn’t pull it off, how could a mongrel like Lin Xiaohe possibly succeed?!”
