Lin Xiaohe ultimately decided to head for the Domain River. It was a choice they had no alternative but to make.
The countdown of the Sacred Stele was like a ghost of death, urging every race to desperately seek a way out.
The dim ambient light of the Arbiter cast a cold metallic sheen across its hull, making it the only artificial beacon in absolute darkness.
Leading the way ahead were the Stardust Giant Sound Whales. Their massive silhouettes faintly flowed with starlight in the darkness.
They had not sung for a long time, nor let out joyful calls. Instead, they silently pressed forward, heading toward the Domain River—a place carved into their genes with a warning never to approach.
Wesley patted his giant sound whale companion on the head. The warmth passed through his broad palm was the unspoken understanding between partners.
In the ripples stirred by the giant sound whales’ gravity, the Spike Star envoys danced gracefully.
The star maps they had spent so long charting were all thrown into chaos. Without the gravity provided by the giant sound whales, they would only become a tiny pebble in the universe.
Old Third, still shaken, patted his chest: “Thank goodness we were smart back then and decisively chose to throw in our lot with Lin Xiaohe.”
“Yeah, who could’ve imagined… sigh.”
Farther away, even more indescribable stardust mutant creatures drifted through the shadows.
Prism bird flocks that converged and separated like crystal shards, and Spiral Yao that patrolled in spiral trajectories.
Together they formed the Arbiter’s escort formation, jointly performing a silent and magnificent epic of escape.
In the Arbiter’s cockpit, command after command was relayed.
“Stay alert. Keep your distance from other extra-domain civilizations. The Spike Star people said that a great convergence of star life means a great convergence of information—and a great convergence of all kinds of resources. We know exactly what level our Ark’s technology is at. We’re relying entirely on the Zerg to make up the numbers. We can’t let other extra-domain civilizations steal our information.”
Hearing this, Old Third curled his lip.
That was clearly not what he had said!
Following the principle of friendliness, Old Third proactively told Wesley: “For star life and for oneself, the convergence of different races and different information is a long-dreamed-of feast that can effectively elevate oneself.”
Stardust humans counted as star life too—they could absolutely use this opportunity to level up!
“Wesley, do you really not want to come out? This is just a shipwreck. It can’t pose any threat to you.”
Wesley refused: “The Lord hasn’t told us to come out, so we won’t come out.”
“The Lord has gone ahead to scout!”
“Oh.”
The Arbiter traveled through a horrifying debris field.
A ring-shaped mothership as massive as a mountain range, with ominous electric sparks flickering at its broken edges, as if it had been gnawed on by an invisible giant beast.
Several slender reconnaissance ship skeletons had already been turned into nests by stardust creatures, like dead trees entwined by vines.
And those hulls completely submerged, like floating tombstones, recording the despair of some distant world that never reached the other shore.
The stardust humans’ mood was heavy. They and the giant sound whales called themselves the Black Domain Street Roamers—they had been here many times.
They had never seen such a long, deathly silent shipwreck field!
Never!
What worried them even more was the change in the Domain River.
It was like a magnificent band of light stretching across the Black Domain, formed by flowing primordial energy and torn starlight converging together—like a gentle yet grand wound, slicing through the entire Black Domain.
The Domain River’s glow was a cold, pulsating deep blue, interwoven with the light of stardust and the gray-purple of dark matter. No living being could survive in the Domain River.
However, in areas where the energy was relatively calm, many ships that could still maintain basic operations had actually gathered.
Their forms were bizarre and varied.
Some were like metal moths with enormous light wings spread open, carefully drawing energy from the Domain River.
Others were like layer upon layer of steel coral reefs, anchored for long periods.
The hulls of these ships were all covered in deep marks, shimmering with the faint glow of shields struggling to hold on.
There were far, far too many of these suddenly appearing ships, densely packed.
They followed an unwritten star civilization agreement, maintaining a certain distance from one another.
This sense of tacit understanding made the Arbiter’s people—who had barely escaped the debris field—feel isolated and excluded.
The Spike Star envoy proactively shared what they knew with the Arbiter: “Those are the Ciao people. It’s said they’ve become a subsidiary civilization of a Domain Lord, with a fleet dedicated to serving the Domain Lord.”
“That very small ship next to them belongs to the Jishe civilization. They’re a parasitic species of microscopic organisms. Don’t be fooled by how small that ship is—it can’t hold many people, but in reality, that’s their entire civilization. Their individuals are almost invisible to the naked eye. A single drop of blood can house hundreds of millions of Jishe individuals. I suggest you best keep your distance from them. Perhaps in a single breath, thousands upon thousands of Jishe people could enter your bodies through the water molecules in the air and reproduce without limit.”
“Whoa, a planet is flying toward us! Ah, it looks a bit familiar. Seems like I’ve seen it somewhere.”
This planet, in a manner completely violating the laws of physics, headed straight for the Arbiter.
Behind it trailed a long string of tails—a group of battered, ragtag Federation human ships of various models.
The ships near the Domain River silently observed this bizarre planet and the unlucky soul about to be destroyed by it.
Then, at a distance of 100 kilometers from the Arbiter, the planet slammed on the brakes, as if enchanted by the creator, stopping dead in place without moving an inch.
Immediately after, a figure flew out from the Arbiter.
“Contractor!”
“Gaia!”
Lin Chiyang and a little girl embraced tightly.
“How did you get here?”
“A beautiful strong person who looks a lot like your sister brought me here. She really didn’t lie to me—she helped me find my contractor.”
“She IS my sister.” Lin Chiyang corrected.
“Whoa, awesome!”
The two chattered and rambled like old friends who hadn’t seen each other in ages, so engrossed that no one could squeeze a word in edgewise.
Little did they know, their appearance had stunned many ships.
A large portion of these ships had learned about the universe’s collapse and didn’t want to wander blindly. Another portion didn’t know much about the local civilization’s strength and wanted to act cautiously first.
And this caution turned out to be exactly right.
First, they saw a strong person about to become a Domain Lord, using dimensions to travel long distances.
Then, they saw a strange ship that actually emanated the aura of the Zerg.
Before they could figure out what was going on, they saw a bizarre planet.
Good heavens, this planet had actually become sentient—it had consciousness!
For a moment, these ships—which originally had their own ideas—stayed put, heightened their guard, and became more wary of the Arbiter and Gaia.
But the thing that would truly make their jaws drop was still to come.
Three waves of forces, from three different directions, arrived here simultaneously as if by prior agreement.
Countless ships seemed about to fill the banks of the Domain River.
“Long time no see, Changqing.”
“Chu Huaizhi, you’re not dead yet?”
“Jörmungandr, you actually joined forces with Changqing?”
Three big shots, blades drawn and tensions running high.
Suddenly, a figure returned from the 4th dimension to the 3rd dimension, landing right between the three of them.
This person was none other than Lin Xiaohe.
Lin Xiaohe looked around, raised an eyebrow: “You want to gang up on me?”
