Legacy of the Void Fleet

Some setbacks arose, of course—certain breakthroughs came too fast for the factories to keep up. But with the expanded production timeline, 66.77% of their time still remained, and they adapted flawlessly.

By now, the Void Fleet had not only expanded its numbers—it had fundamentally evolved.

And Still… They Weren’t Done

Because perfection isn’t the goal.

Dominance is.

And the Void Fleet continues to build, optimize, and ascend—step by step—toward a future where no empire, no species, no ancient force will be able to stand against them.

As time moved on, two more days passed in the real world, while a thousand days slipped by in the universal plane. Kallus had finally completed his cultivation. He had absorbed all the relevant knowledge and learned to wield it efficiently.

He had meditated peacefully in the grassy fields, but eventually made his way to the Void Tower, where he challenged many legendary warriors of the Genesis Law Comprehension Realm. He won many battles and lost some too, but through it all, he perfected his spells, techniques, and gained valuable combat experience.

Now, he felt ready—or so his senses told him. That lingering sense of danger he’d carried ever since destroying the Minotaur Race’s 7th Light Fleet had finally vanished. It had haunted him for so long, warning him he wasn’t prepared. But now? It was gone. He felt confident—strong enough to survive whatever might come his way in the near future.

With that assurance, he decided it was time to visit Luna and his parents. Quite a bit of time had passed, at least from his perspective.

Back at his villa, which was encased in a special time-dilation field—one he had crafted himself—the flow of time moved at a gentler pace (just 1:2 compared to the usual 1:500 elsewhere). He had done this to prevent his family from getting bored or experiencing the negative effects of extreme time dilation, even if the risk was minimal. It was a precaution for his own peace of mind.

When he entered the house, he found Luna—the same cheerful little girl—watching television. Curled beside her was a white, fluffy ball of fur: Fafnir, the Wolf of Destruction, in his miniature form. The two were engrossed in anime—the same series as always. Kallus chuckled to himself, wondering just how many episodes they’d already watched, and how the show could possibly still be ongoing. ”How do people even make such long-running anime nowadays?” he mused. ”Still… it’s kind of cool.”

Turning away from that scene, he glanced at a nearby perch where two majestic birds—one red, one white and blue—rested. They were Solaris and Luanra, guardians of Luna and his mother. He nodded to them respectfully, and both phoenixes bowed in return.

He smiled and said teasingly, ”Look at you, little princess—so into your show you didn’t even notice someone walk into the room.”

But to his surprise, Luna didn’t leap into his arms like she usually would. Instead, she replied in a grumpy tone, ”Maybe I’m not even here, huh?” Her frustration was clear.

She pouted, arms crossed. ”It’s not that I didn’t hear you coming. I just didn’t want to talk to you. You disappear whenever you want—off on your adventures—and never take me with you. So why should I even bother talking to you? Hmph. You’re bad.”

Kallus’s smile faded as guilt washed over him. He recalled something the Red Empress had told him before he entered the universal plane during the cleansing operation: ”You’re turning them into house decorations, Kallus, the way you’re trying to protect them.”

Luna’s words echoed that same sentiment.

Was he truly doing that? Was he wrong to shield them this way? Was he making them feel like strangers in their own home?

Then, suddenly, two small figures appeared before him—two versions of himself. One bore angelic wings; the other had fallen wings, dark and ominous.

The white-winged Kallus spoke first. ”You’re going about this all wrong, Kallus. Just look at your sister—she’s already a peak Paragon-level existence. With her talent, her combat power could rival any World Builder. And don’t forget her guardian, Solaris—she’s returned to her original rank, the peak of World Builder too. Do they really need your protection? Maybe against some overwhelming threat, sure, but isn’t that what you’re here for? To support them—not isolate them.”

”Even your parents aren’t weak. They’re powerful in their own right. You shouldn’t cage them. Let them help. Maybe not on the frontlines, but they can support you in ways that matter.”

Then the dark-winged version of Kallus scoffed. ”Don’t listen to that stupid white pigeon. You’re doing the right thing. This is the only way to protect them. Keep them here, safe from any outside influence. That way, you can focus on your mission and still have peace of mind.”

But the white-winged Kallus shouted back, ”Shut up, dark pigeon! Is this really right, Kallus? Taking away your family’s freedom just because you’re scared of what might happen? They’re not weak. They wouldn’t hold you back—they’d push you forward with strength you don’t even have.”

”So what will you choose? Your own fears and limits—or your family’s happiness?”

The voices faded, and the figures disappeared. But the debate lingered—it was his own inner voice, after all, split between two motives with the same goal.

Kallus stood there, deep in thought. Then a new determination began to burn inside him—a fire that pushed away the shadow of doubt.

”I want their happiness,” he whispered to himself. ”If I’m afraid of something worse, then all I need to do is keep my eyes open. And if something goes wrong… I’ll protect them with everything I’ve got.”

With that resolution, Kallus turned to Luna, who was still pouting on the couch.

He approached her gently, speaking in a soft, warm tone. ”It’s not like that, princess… The reason I didn’t take you with me was because I was scouting things out. But don’t worry—from now on, I promise… wherever I go, I’ll take you, Mom, and Dad with me. Alright?”

Luna froze, stunned. She hadn’t expected him to actually agree to her long-standing request.

A moment later, she sprang up from the couch, rushed over to him, and shouted, ”Really, Big Bear? You promise?” She held out her pinky finger. ”You have to pinky promise!”

Kallus laughed warmly and locked his own pinky with hers. ”Of course. I promise.”

”Yay!” Luna cheered, spinning in joy as her mood did a complete 180—from grumpy to ecstatic in mere seconds.

Luna ran happily through the hall, her laughter echoing as she jumped around, completely ignoring the growling Fafnier behind her. The wolf of destruction braced his front legs on the couch, glaring at her with wide, offended eyes. His deep grumbles weren’t just noise—they were complaints. ”Why throw me like that, huh? It’s not even me you’re mad at—it’s my master!” he seemed to protest, his white ears twitching in disbelief. He wasn’t hurt, of course—it was a cushioned landing—but his pride certainly was.

Still, Luna didn’t even glance at him. She darted straight into the kitchen, where Mother Amelia stood preparing lunch. Her eyes sparkled with joy as she declared with glee, ”Kallus said we can come with him!”

Amelia blinked, startled. For a moment, her hands paused over the vegetables. She had long known her son was holding back—keeping them from leaving the universal plane out of a fear that his journey might endanger them. And though she understood, even agreed with his reasoning, it hadn’t stopped her from quietly wishing he’d let them in. After all, they weren’t fragile anymore. She, her husband, even little Luna—they were all beings of the Pragnog Realm now, powerful and capable.

Still, Kallus was Kallus. He bore his burdens in silence, and if they’d ever tried to push him, it would’ve only made him more stubborn. So they waited, trusting that he’d reach the decision himself.

And now, as she watched Luna spin around in excitement, Amelia felt her heart lift. ”He’s finally realized,” she thought, tears softening her smile. ”We don’t protect the ones we love by shutting them out… but by walking forward together.”

Kallus, standing quietly in the hall, heard the laughter of Luna echoing from the kitchen—joined by his mother’s softer laugh. Though not as loud or playful as Luna’s, he could feel the happiness in her voice. It struck him deeply. She was happy with the change in him.

That realization hit hard. What he’d been doing—keeping them confined under the guise of protection—hadn’t been right. And what made it even more humbling was knowing his mother had seen through it the entire time. Yet, she had never tried to persuade him or push him to change. She had simply waited, trusting he would come to understand it on his own.

For a moment, a bitter pang twisted inside him. But it quickly passed. Life, he reminded himself, is a journey meant to teach, to reveal who we are through the mistakes we make—and the lessons we learn. And he was learning.