Legacy of the Void Fleet

The Emperor Maximus of the Indra Empire added his voice, quieter, but no less pressing:

”Commander… we have only a fraction of your fleet here. If the orcs attack, Earth won’t hold. Not without support.”

The Bear Emperor nodded grimly.

”Yes. We—Earth’s powers—have no fleets strong enough to resist such an invasion. If the orcs breach your defense perimeter… the consequences for Earth would be catastrophic.”

His tone was respectful, but the message carried weight—and mild warning. Kallus caught it. His eyes met the Bear Emperor’s for a long moment.

But he let it go.

”You don’t need to worry,” Kallus said coolly. ”None of you do.”

He turned his gaze across the room. ”Bear Imperium. Indra. Avalon. Jiang. You may lack strength, but you’re under my protection—for now.”

Then he looked to Chancellor Bai Zong qi.

Kallus leaned forward slightly, his voice even.

”Chancellor Bai. I intend to assign your forces the task of defending Earth and the Sol System.”

He let the words hang before continuing.

”Your fleet is powerful—second only to ours within the Alliance. This is a good opportunity to show that strength. Especially with all the new ships you’ve constructed over the past two months. It’s time to put them to use.”

Bai Zongqi frowned slightly but didn’t respond right away. Instead, he offered a small smile and replied with a calm, measured tone.

”You jest, Imperial Commander. You and I both know that while I may rank second within the Alliance, the gap between us is still vast. We are nowhere near your level.”

He paused, then narrowed his eyes slightly.

”And as for your intention to place us at the front lines of this orc invasion… allow me to ask a question in return: If my fleet faces overwhelming danger, will yours intervene to protect us?”

The question caused a subtle flicker of surprise in Kallus’s eyes—just enough to be noticed. He muttered something under his breath, half in amusement, before offering a faint smile.

”I will. You don’t need to worry about that.”

Then he added, ”But let me ask you something in return—have you considered that your fleet might be annihilated? That the orcs might be beyond your ability to handle?”

”Oh, that’s an easy one, Commander,” Bai said, folding his arms. ”I didn’t ask because I already know—you wouldn’t send us into something we couldn’t survive. You’ve got no feud with us, no reason to waste us. That’s why I didn’t ask.”

Kallus smirked. ”Hmm. That’s your read on it, is it?”

He paused again, then shifted gears.

”Good. Since you’re thinking that way, let me offer something more. The Minotaur fleet we captured—one of their ships is far more advanced than anything in your arsenal.”

Bai’s expression tightened with interest.

”But you don’t need to worry,” Kallus continued. ”According to our intel, the ship isn’t under their full control. It’s running on auxiliary power. No real threat to your fleet.”

He leaned in just slightly.

”But... if you manage to capture it intact, it’s yours. Fully. Along with any resources and tech the orcs are carrying. That’s your reward for completing this mission.”

Bai Zongqi’s frown vanished. His jaw dropped slightly, stunned.

He hadn’t expected that.

But as a seasoned commander, he recovered quickly, his expression sharpening into something more composed—and opportunistic.

That did the trick.

”I happily accept your generous offer, Imperial Commander,” he said, smiling widely.

Zong qi straightened his back a bit more, smirked again, and said, ”Then I accept. Would be rude to turn down a gift like that.”

Some of the Earth powers wanted in too—but they didn’t have fleets strong enough for a real fight. Most lacked even basic warships. All they could do was shake their heads in frustration and regret, watching from the sidelines.

While the Earth’s powers sat in silence, the sting of regret washed over them—but Kallus? He remained unmoved. He didn’t waste mental energy on their grief. What was the point of regret when they lacked the strength to do anything about it?

They knew it too. Deep down, they understood their position.

Still, they sighed like broken men.If only we had the power…If only we could stand tall, point at Kallus, and say—”You don’t understand. You don’t know what it’s like to stand in front of a gold-rich mine and be forced to watch as someone else digs it up, hauls it away, and leaves you with nothing but dirt and stone.”

But they did understand. And that helplessness hurt. The Bear Emperor, in a darker moment, might even have fantasized about strangling Kallus for it. Not out of hatred—but out of sheer frustration. He and the others knew exactly what it felt like to be surrounded by opportunity and yet unable to grasp it.

And what could they do? Just sigh?

No—an idea sparked in their minds.

If we cannot reach the summit ourselves, then we must find those who can climb for us.

If they couldn’t command fleets, they could raise people who one day would.

The Void Academy—Kallus had mentioned it casually, but now it felt like the only ladder they had. The Earth powers realized this together, almost wordlessly. If they could secure more seats in the Academy, they could plant their most talented, most driven people right at the heart of power.

Let those individuals earn merits. Let them buy the advanced knowledge, the high-tier ships, the access to classified systems. Let them bring back what their nations could not yet touch.

And through them, the Earth powers could rise.

It was their only realistic path forward. Infrastructure would take generations. Fleets, even longer. But training individuals to chase merit? That could start today.

Even if it came at a cost, they’d pay it. Knowledge always had a price.

The four Earth leaders—the Bear Emperor, the Jiang Emperor, the Indra Emperor, and the President of Avalon—all glanced at each other.

And for a moment, they were stunned.

They each saw it: the same fire in each other’s eyes. If they hadn’t been in this setting, if they hadn’t worn the masks honed over decades of ruling, they might’ve laughed. Not out of humor—but from the surreal realization that even as rivals, even as former enemies, they were all thinking the same thing.

They understood one another well enough to read the room. In that moment of rare vulnerability, it was almost comical.We’ve all come to the same conclusion.They didn’t say it—but they felt it.

Meanwhile, Kallus had turned his attention to Chancellor Bai Zongqi, detailing the intelligence on the approaching orc fleet: fleet size, ship classes, firepower estimates.

The Earth leaders stayed quiet. They couldn’t act, but they could listen. And learn.

When Kallus mentioned that the Minotaur fleet numbered in the hundreds, the room inhaled sharply. Even Zongqi flinched—for a moment.

But he quickly recalculated. His own Star Fleet numbered only 30 ships, but each one was a top-grade vessel, newly constructed and outfitted with the latest systems from Void-tier archives.

As Kallus displayed images of the enemy vessels, Zongqi leaned in. His anxiety gave way to cold analysis.

The Minotaur ships were barely holding together—scars of previous battles, crude patchwork repairs, exposed systems. The pulsar cores looked unstable, and many of the ships were visibly damaged, some still venting plasma.

Zongqi exhaled—a rare, audible sign of relief.

These weren’t pristine warships. They were limping threats.

Kallus, watching him, finally asked, ”So... Chancellor. Still confident you can take them down?”

Zongqi didn’t answer immediately. He took a few moments to think, then responded evenly.

”Let’s be honest—you didn’t give me everything. I know that. But what you did share was enough.”

He folded his arms, tone steady.

”My fleet can handle this. We’ll take some damage—sure—but not enough to cripple us. If everything goes as expected, we’ll manage.”

He paused, then added pointedly:”And even if I make a mistake—which I won’t—your fleet will have our back, won’t it?”

Kallus nodded. ”We control the center. I won’t go back on my word.”

”Good,” said Bai Zong qi, patting his chest. ”Then leave it to me. My fleet will handle it.”

Kallus smirked, playing the provoker.”Well, if you run into trouble, Chancellor, don’t worry—we’ll step in. I wouldn’t blame you.”

Zong qi grunted, half amused, half annoyed.

”You jest, Imperial Commander. Why would I hand it over when it’s not even difficult? And let you take the spoils?”

He grinned.”No way.”

Kallus chuckled, low and amused.

After things settled down, Kallus raised one final point.

”There’s one more thing,” he said, voice calm but deliberate. ”When mana begins to flow freely again—though we won’t have much to worry about in terms of control—some fundamental laws of reality will begin to shift.”

He looked at all five of them—Zongqi and the four Earth leaders—briefly, but with intensity.

”Laws?” Chancellor Bai asked, confused. ”What kind of laws?”

Kallus gave a faint smile, almost amused.

”You wouldn’t understand even if I explained. Not yet. Honestly, I’d suggest all of you pick up a few cultivation novels. They might help you grasp the basics. At least the language.”

He paused, then continued with more gravity.

”Laws like gravity—will begin to shift. They’ll intensify, evolve. The very framework of physics will bend around mana as it returns in full. Most of it won’t be dangerous. But it will cause confusion, panic, and—on occasion—phenomena that feel... magical.”

He gestured lightly, as if waving off the idea—but they could sense he was serious.

”So prepare your people. This won’t be something you can fight. It’s something you adapt to.”

The Earth powers nodded, absorbing the warning. While the idea of ”laws changing” sounded strange—even ridiculous—they had no choice but to take Kallus seriously. They were already quietly planning how to fast-track their academy candidates, secure more merits, and now... maybe even brush up on cultivation theory.

As Kallus stood from his seat, the meeting drew to a close.

”That will be all,” he said. ”I’ve told you what I needed to.”

And with that, the commander left them in silence—each of them already calculating, preparing, and trying to hold on to a future that was changing faster than any of them could fully understand.