Legacy of the Void Fleet

It puzzled them. Doesn’t he want more merit? But they knew that couldn’t be true—not when those merit points were directly tied to a future posting that would place someone above all Grand Admirals and just below the Imperial Family.

And yet, they also understood—Ezra was giving up the spotlight he already had... and handing it to them, just to earn their goodwill.

Goodwill and their favor—that’s what they all thought Ezra was after. Yet, despite their suspicions, they couldn’t help but feel grateful. Even the bitterness they’d once held toward Grand Admiral Ezra began to fade.

After all, he didn’t have to do what he was doing—giving up control of a higher-level zone in favor of a lower one. Even if he wanted their goodwill, this was a sacrifice that went beyond what anyone expected. Still, the Wheel of Time—or fate, or circumstance—seemed to side with them, and for now, that’s all that mattered.

They chose to see it as a favor Ezra was doing for them, one they’d remember. If he ever came asking, they’d repay him—support him in matters that wouldn’t cost them too much. These were the concessions they were ready to make.

The six of them exchanged a look, each noticing the same flicker in the others’ eyes. Unspoken but understood: they were all thinking the same thing. There was no need for pretense, no point in acting like they were reluctant to accept the gesture, or pretending they had no choice.

They knew better. Especially now—with only a few hours left before they departed for the battle ahead. It had already been nearly an hour, and yet they hadn’t even finalized the distribution of territories that each of the seven was supposed to attack and take over. Worse still, they hadn’t even begun preparing the war strategies they might need.

Even if the Minotaur Clan was far weaker than them, that didn’t mean they could afford to leave things undecided or remain unprepared. That simply wasn’t an option. And yet, here they were—still stuck in the same place.

Grand Admiral Elira was the first to speak.

”Then let me thank you first, Grand Admiral Ezra, for doing us this favor—at your own risk. It’s not something I’ll forget.”

She gave him a respectful nod. Ezra responded with a simple nod of his own.

Only then did Elira turn to the other Grand Admirals.

”Let’s settle this. Grand Admiral Ezra has already gone out of his way to give us a fair shot. He’s divided the Minatoru Clan’s star systems evenly among us, splitting them into seven sectors.”

She paused, then continued.

”We’ll make a game of it to simplify things for all of us. A drawing paper game. I’ll write the names of the star systems we’re assigned to attack and capture in the name of Imperial Commander Kallus—each on a separate slip of paper. There will be six slips in total. Each one will represent a mission objective worth 4,000 merit points, just like we discussed—and everyone agreed on that.

Whatever slip you draw, the system written on it becomes your target—your responsibility to conquer. And once it’s conquered, you’ll also be responsible for stabilising it, to prevent any further damage or incidents of a similar nature.”

Is this acceptable to everyone?” she asked, glancing around the room.

The reason Elira chose this method was simple: while the targets had been evenly divided and each sector held the same official priority, the actual value of the star systems varied.

Take Minotaur Prime, for example—a high-priority system not just on paper but in real strategic terms. Then there was Asterion Prime. Slightly less critical than Minotaur Prime, yet still a valuable target. It held fewer powerful Manitou figures than Minotaur Prime, but enough to make it a strong second.

These systems were still being eyed by many. Capturing them meant capturing high-value individuals—ones that could yield vital intelligence and push merit scores even higher. The odds of such rewards were far slimmer in the other star systems.

Elira knew that without a fair method of allocation, arguments and verbal clashes were bound to erupt. No one would willingly give up a chance at Minotaur Prime—especially not just because another Grand Admiral claimed it first. That would only take them back to square one, where all of this had started. The tension among them would rise again, and it was inevitable unless a method was used that everyone considered fair and acceptable.

And this was exactly why she proposed the draw-a-lot game. It would make things easier and more acceptable for everyone, as it was random in nature and depended purely on luck—nothing else. If someone didn’t end up with Minotaur Prime, they wouldn’t have a reason to argue, because it was simply luck they didn’t have.

They’d accept it, knowing they had a fair chance but lost only because Lady Luck wasn’t on their side. And in that way, they wouldn’t stir up any ruckus—especially not after everything they’d already been through.

The others understood the moment Elira explained the idea of drawing lots. They saw through her reasoning and grasped exactly where she was going with it—and, in fact, they were relieved. Yes, relieved, because they had all been silently wondering the same thing: who would get the most coveted assignments, and how would that decision be made? Would it simply go to whoever claimed it first?

Now, with Elira’s method, the chaos in their minds finally settled. They understood the principle behind the game she had proposed, and the worries about fairness or justification faded. This game would depend solely on luck. If luck favored them, all the better. And if it didn’t, then so be it. They would accept the outcome—not because someone else had taken what they wanted, but because luck simply hadn’t shone on them. Nothing more.

This time, Grand Admiral Benjamin stepped forward and said, ”This is more than acceptable, Grand Admiral Elira. You can go ahead with it. I’ve got no problem at all. In fact, I’m satisfied with the team you’ve assigned—and I believe the others will agree with me as well... Am I right, everyone?” he added with a smile, glancing at the rest.

They all nodded in agreement, and Benjamin continued, ”Why wouldn’t we agree? After all, this way, we each have an equal chance to get what we want. The rest depends on our luck.”

”It is indeed as Grand Admiral Benjamin says,” added Grand Admiral Ryn—the woman known across the entire Void Fleet for her temper. Soon after, the remaining three admirals fell in line as well. They had no real reason to object—none at all.

Elira wasted no time, now that everyone had agreed. With a snap of her fingers, Siri conjured a glass ballot box—transparent, so its contents were visible to all. With another snap, six small, square-shaped slips of paper appeared in the air. In front of everyone, she used her fingers to etch onto each one the coordinates of the star systems, according to how they were distributed among them.

Then, with one final snap, the slips fell neatly into the ballot box, which she handed over to Grand Admiral Ezra. ”I’ll leave it to you to mix them up,” she said. ”You already have your target decided, and the others will agree this makes it even fairer.”

Ezra nodded and accepted the ballot box in his hands. He cloaked it with his aura, blocking out any Grand Admiral-level divine sense from peeking inside to ensure the game remained fair. Then he shook the box, thoroughly mixing the slips, while also cleansing them of any residual aura left by Elira. Finally, the ballot box was ready—sealed, fair, and filled with fate.

Ezra then snapped his fingers, and a white table appeared before them. He placed the ballot box at the center of the table, its clear glass surface reflecting the soft lights of the meeting room. The transparent box made it easy to see the six folded slips inside—each one carrying a mission of equal merit, yet with differing strategic values.

These six slips would soon decide the fate of the Grand Admirals, determining which mission each would be tasked to carry out. Looking around at everyone, Ezra spoke, ”The order in which you will draw depends on the fleet you command. For example, Grand Admiral Elira, who leads the Second Show Fleet, will draw first—followed by Ryn, and then the rest, according to fleet designation.”

The others simply nodded upon hearing this. No one made a fuss—even though there were certainly other ways the drawing order could have been decided. But oh well, they had already wasted enough time, and dragging it out further would only make things more problematic. So, with that thought, they all silently agreed and turned their attention to Grand Admiral Elira, who was lucky enough to go first.

Still, it wasn’t a bad deal for the rest of them either. If she turned out to be lucky, then so be it—she was just lucky. And if not, they would at least know that among the remaining five slips, one still held what they each desired.