Legacy of the Void Fleet

Seeing the coming attack, only a few higher-level captains were able to react and activate evasive maneuvers, but it was already too late to do anything.

Against the Obliterator’s weapon batteries, whose attack speed was simply too fast, no evasive maneuver was able to save any of them.

And soon, sun after sun began to rise around the vanguard and its two flanks, and even the central formation, which contained the Brutal Blood Grand Fleet, suffered in this salvo.

The blinding light of a supermassive explosion washed over the command bridge of the Brutal Blood Grand Fleet’s flagship in its entirety. Alarms blared relentlessly, but this time around, the Star People were not paralyzed like before. Having survived multiple brutal, harsh wars—even if none compared to this one—they were shaken, but their adaptability was no joke. Even in the midst of this panicked crisis, they operated at their absolute best.

”Connection lost with the vanguard heavy division, Battle Groups Four through Nine! Hull integrity across all involved ships is gone—the battle groups are completely wiped out!”

”Flak cruiser SV-7 hailing Code Black! Requesting immediate fire support!”

”Central formation lead reports multiple breaches across the fleet line! Battlecruisers DFang and Gorgon have split in half under enemy fire, but somehow they’ve maintained internal power and operability—they’re requesting emergency power transfers and an immediate rescue operation!”

”Commander, the right flank flagship, super-battleship MV-1, and its battle group have completely collapsed! The flank is leaderless! Surviving captains are begging to pull their ships back and integrate into the central fleet!”

”Commander, the left flank is almost entirely destroyed! The few surviving captains are pleading for rapid evacuation, and some are begging us to dispatch repair drones immediately!”

Dozens of operators shouted over one another, their voices cracking under the weight of an escalating nightmare that worsened by the second.

Grand Commander Dier sat frozen in his command seat, his chest aching and his breath caught in his throat as every devastating report poured in.

Over thirty thousand heavy-class warships—peak Tier 2 battlecruisers, destroyers, initial and mid Tier 3 battleships, and even a few super-battleships—were completely gone, blasted into clouds of fragmented matter drifting across the void in mere moments under the firepower of a single gigantic vessel belonging to that hateful, tiny human race.

Thinking of this, he clenched his fists in sheer hatred and frustration.

What in the name of the supreme star ancestors is that ship built from? Frantic thoughts raced through Dier’s mind in a fraction of a microsecond. How can it display such absolute, overwhelming firepower? It is definitely not a Tier 3 or even a quasi-Tier 4 ship—it might even be true Tier 4!

His brow twitched in disbelief. Just how did these insect-like humans manage to get their hands on a monstrosity like this? He sucked in a deep, chilling breath. Gritting his teeth until they creaked and threatened to crack, Dier slammed his fist hard onto the left armrest of his command throne, shattering it instantly under the force of his Star Law Realm cultivation.

”Delay all rescue operations indefinitely! Launching rescue missions in the middle of battle is suicide—it’s nothing more than feeding our remaining troops and precious resources directly to the enemy, an opening those humans won’t hesitate to exploit!”

”Divert all focus toward active operational ships! Charge weapon batteries to absolute capacity! Divert maximum power to every offensive system across the surviving armada! Fire upon that enemy ship, and do not stop! Keep firing until the barrels melt! I refuse to believe they can withstand an all-out, coordinated barrage from our entire fleet!”

Dier’s roar echoed across all fleet comm channels, overriding any pending rescue protocols without hesitation.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the battlefield aboard the command bridge of the Obliterator, the atmosphere was in stark contrast to the sheer chaos tearing through the Brutal Blood Grand Fleet.

Kallus leaned back against his throne-like command seat, his cheek resting lazily against his right fist. His eyes flickered over the Obliterator’s 100% external view simulation, taking in the void not far from their current position—space still ablaze with the lingering aftereffects of the warship’s devastating barrage.

He looked thoroughly unimpressed. It wasn’t the performance of the Obliterator itself that disappointed him, but rather the targets, who hadn’t managed to struggle for even a single breath before being utterly wiped out by the ship’s transcendent weapon systems.

”That’s it?” he muttered with an exasperated sigh. ”Over thirty thousand ships, and this is all they amount to? Boring.”

Standing beside him, the corner of the Red Empress’s mouth twitched. She stared at him in utter disbelief, giving him a faint, wry smile as she gently shook her head.

”Kallus, that’s just the Obliterator being far too overwhelming for them to do anything against, let alone stand a fighting chance against its weapons. Facing a transcendent creation like this—commanded by you, a Ruler-level existence who has already formed his Divine Realm—what could they possibly even do?”

Kallus blinked, coughing lightly into his fist to mask the sudden surge of awkwardness. ”Right, right... well, ahem, let’s forget about that. They’re just so weak that I almost forgot it’s simply because my Obliterator and I are far too powerful...”

While attempting to gloss over his embarrassment, he shamelessly bragged about his own strength—prompting the Empress to deliver an exasperated facepalm.

Not minding her reaction in the slightest, Kallus straightened his posture. Clearing his throat, he spoke with sweeping dominance:

”Now that that’s settled, why waste any more time on these ants? Let’s finish them off and move onward—we still have an empire’s imperial family to destroy.”

The moment the words left his mouth, Kallus mobilized the Obliterator with a single thought. The obsidian hull lit up once more, light rippling across the vast weapon emplacements mounted along its frame. Each battery hummed with terrifying power, condensing lethal energy so intensely that surrounding space warped and warped backward, sending wild torrents of mana raging around the vessel.

On the other side of the void, the Brutal Blood Grand Fleet—now hyper-vigilant—detected the surge instantly. Alarms shrieked through their command bridges once again.

”Massive spatial and mana fluctuations detected ahead! The human warship is powering up its main batteries again!” an operator screamed from the central sensor pit. ”It—it looks like they’re about to fire!”

No sooner had the words fallen than the optical feeds captured the Obliterator’s obsidian hull erupting in blinding radiance, unleashing a barrage of apocalyptic light that tore directly toward them.

”Evasive maneuvers! Evasive maneuvers immediately!” captain after captain roared across the Star Empire’s armada, panic bleeding into every order as they watched the volley close the distance.

It was entirely futile.

The Obliterator’s attacks were impossibly fast, crossing the void almost instantaneously. Void shields shattered on impact. Beams and kinetic payloads slammed into hull after hull at varying angles, tearing the fleet apart in catastrophic displays of destruction.

Warships buckled into twisted, unnatural shapes before violently detonating, until the entire central formation was swallowed by an inferno of tearing metal and secondary explosions.

Riding through the heart of this slaughter, an immense annihilation cluster beam surged forward, unobstructed, aimed directly at the flagship of the Brutal Blood Fleet.

Inside the super-battleship, Grand Commander Dier felt his body and soul scream in visceral terror. An instinctive dread paralyzed his spirit, foretelling absolute, inescapable demise.

”No! Not like this!”

Dier roared, violently shattering the paralysis gripping his mind. He unleashed the full, unrestricted might of his Star Law Realm cultivation. A staff-like artifact materialized within his grip, crowned with a massive, multifaceted stellar crystal that shimmered relentlessly with pure white energy.

Drawing frantically upon his mana and his deep comprehension of both Earth and Metal Laws, Dier tapped into the pinnacle of his domain as a Star Law Realm expert.

”[Star Shield]!” he snarled.

Instantly, a colossal, dense barrier bathed in a heavy brownish-silver hue solidified directly in front of the flagship, bracing against the incoming beam of doom.

BOOOOM!

The blazing red beam unleashed by the Obliterator’s main annihilation cluster weapon slammed violently into the brownish-silver barrier. The blinding impact generated an intense shockwave that rippled through the vacuum of space, violently rocking and battering the nearby surviving warships.

For a breathless instant, the Star Shield held, halting the destructive crimson beam dead in its tracks.

A wild spark of fierce joy and hope flared across Dier’s bloodshot eyes.

”It held!” he bellowed.

Refusing to let relief make him careless, he frantically channeled even more mana into the barrier, desperately hardening and reinforcing the Star Shield to ensure not a single fracture could form at this critical juncture.

Crack!

A sharp, violent fracture echoed through the void, and the color instantly drained from Dier’s face. He jerked his head up, eyes widening in horror as web-like fissures erupted across the Star Shield, spider-webbing outward from the point of impact at a terrifying, accelerating speed.

”No!” he roared.

He moved to desperately pour more mana into reinforcing the defense, but it was already too late.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

More fractures ripped across the barrier, each snap harsher and louder than the last. A millisecond later—

KABOOOOOOM!

The entire barrier, reinforced by two foundational laws comprehended to the initial level, collapsed completely under the overwhelming, annihilating wrath of the crimson energy beam.