Lord of the Truth

Chapter 1862 The deadly support

The headquarters within the True Beginning Empire finally found a genuine breath of relief -almost like a long-awaited exhale- after the Centennial Cradle Empire and the Double Centennial Grave Empire were supported sufficiently to regain their stability and stand firmly on their feet once more. With the pressure easing slightly, Emily managed to dedicate thirty fourth-generation note fleets to reinforce Alexanderʼs front, especially under the relentless push and insistence coming from the Shadow Swords, who demanded quick and decisive aid.

That year the very year the reinforcements arrived-marked the dawn of a true shift. It was the moment when the tides of the war, which had remained stagnant for far too long, finally began to move.

Alexander, who had never before tested the capabilities of the new generation of fleets, kept only ten fleets under his direct command. The remaining twenty he dispatched to serve as the permanent core for the other two armadas under lord Hedrick, strengthening their heart and structure in a way he had never dared to attempt previously.

And then came the shock-a shock so immense it spread across the entire sector with the very first clash that followed...

Lord Hedrick took the armada he had recently assembled from the various millennial empires scattered across the sector, and he positioned the ten fourth-generation fleets right at its center, forming a destructive spearhead. The instant the ten motherships unleashed their cannon fire, space itself trembled with a force comparable not to ordinary battles, but to the raw, overwhelming pressure of Nexus States. It was as if reality itself recoiled. Ten massive ships, each outfitted with twenty colossal cannons, packed from end to end with dense arrays, layered defensive systems, and intricate mechanisms for both close- and long-range engagement. Every one of these ships could fire continuously from their two primary cannons with a destructive capability equivalent to a low Nexus State.

And it wasnʼt ordinary bombardment. No-Hedrick had assigned entire legions to operate and empower the cannons. They were firing infused attacks using the Minor Crumbling Law itself!

The hundred Note of Destruction Gen-4 vessels did not merely watch. Though their cannons were slightly weaker, the difference was marginal at best. Together they unleashed a barrage so intense it rivaled a high-level World Cataclysm. Their firing pattern showed no restraint whatsoever-they shot as though the pearls meant absolutely nothing to them.

The Note of Flood Gen-4 vessels proved even more irritating, almost monstrously so. Their raw cannon force hadnʼt grown tremendously after all, these were small vessels that could carry maybe ten passengers at most- but the nature of their attacks evolved entirely. Every shot now carried the Law of the pilot and his accompanying team. For the first time in the long, brutal history of warfare, vessels were firing lightning-charged volleys, crumbling bursts, freezing rays- each ship producing a uniquely unpredictable threat of its own!

The battle between Hedrick and the Guardian was not the main attraction, nor even the gigantic clash involving hundreds of fleets. All eyes turned irresistibly toward the ten fourth-generation fleets and the catastrophic destruction they carved into the battlefield.

The Guardian abandoned his duel with Hedrick and made a desperate attempt to strike the ten fleets to stop the bleeding of his forces. But Hedrick intercepted him in a scene so bizarre it almost defied logic- Hedrick, the habitual aggressor, suddenly took the defensive role, blocking every approach with ferocious determination.

The allied armada also ignored everything else, diverting all attention toward those ten fleets, hoping to bring them down before their losses spiraled any further. This forced the ten fleets into a defensive stance, but that very shift exposed the allied forces to the remainder of Hedrickʼs armada, which seized the opening with terrifying precision.

In less than an hour-an unbelievably short span more than twenty fleets from the allied army vanished without a trace, wiped out at a pace previously thought impossible. It forced the Guardian to shout a frantic order for retreat, and he himself escaped after suffering a hit. It was a light injury, yes, but even so, it would undoubtedly force him out of battle for months.

As for Hedrick, he returned laughing- laughing like a madman who had finally proven a point the universe had refused to acknowledge.

Victory this time carried a new flavor. It wasnʼt a mere ambush relying on surprise or a temporary harassment tactic. No... this was a total, absolute, and undeniable domination.

From that day forward, everything changed.

Hedrickʼs attacks escalated. They no longer occurred once every few years- they became once every few months, then once every few weeks... and the pace only continued to rise.

And at that point, the allied armada no longer celebrated Hedrickʼs sudden appearance, nor did they rush into battle against him as boldly as they had in the past. Instead, fleeing became their first instinct-almost a reflex they could not suppress!!

The moment his fleets emerged from warp, they didnʼt even hesitate. Entire armadas simply turned around and ran for their lives.

This scene became the highlight of every discussion-not just within the confines of the starfield itself, no, but across the entire sector. It turned into a sweeping joke, a running gag repeated in every market, every military outpost, every academy. The allied armada became the laughingstock of the whole

region.

The cosmic war, once centered on besieging Lord Hedrick and intending to eradicate him completely, gradually twisted into something entirely different- a reality where Hedrick and his three armadas held absolute control. He was, quite literally, chasing his enemies from one star system to the next, and each time they clashed, the result was the same: Hedrick emerged victorious, and his enemies scattered like dust before a storm.

And when exactly did this shift occur?

It happened at the same time the Bright Galaxy spectacularly failed to terrify the millennial empires with their displays of military might and their loud, theatrical threats. It was the moment when Bright Galaxy dropped their intimidation tactics and instead began sending polite envoys, trying to negotiate a treaty-one that would forbid the millennial empires from offering any form of aid to Hedrick, and restore the ”peaceful relations” they claimed to

value.

They argued, with false confidence, that Hedrick was destined to fall sooner or later, that his end was inevitable and approaching. They insisted that the millennial empires should avoid conflict with them, because ”they would all remain united forever,” and only through diplomacy and mutual understanding could they ”repair the misunderstanding” and return the sector to the peaceful, predictable future it once had...

But while they were preaching peace and begging for signatures on useless agreements, Lord Hedrick was, in that exact same period, hunting down the four allied armadas across the sector like abandoned, terrified stray dogs, waging a one-sided war that dragged on relentlessly for five entire years!!

It was a war in which the balance of power was shattered-not by thousands of fleets, not by overwhelming numbers, but by just thirty fleets. Thirty fleets whose terrifying reputation exploded through Middle Sector 101 like a chain

reaction.

Images of those fourth-generation ships firing their cannons became the most widely shared clips among young people, soldiers, researchers, and war enthusiasts. They watched them over and over-an entire generation raised on the sight of those weapons unleashing devastation.

People everywhere began desperately searching for their origins. They dug through archives, bribed informants, sent secret agents across borders-trying to find any possible way to acquire even a single ship or a fraction of their

technology.

But for the sector, reality was cruel. Every path led to the Cradle Centennial Empire in Sector 100, and every request -whether official or unofficial- was shut down immediately. Not a single negotiation was entertained. The Cradle Centennial Empire refused every offer with cold, unwavering finality. Naturally, all negotiations between the Bright Galaxy and the millennial empire collapsed into dust. One by one, the millennial empires answered the Bright

Galaxy with the same response:

They would simply wait and see how the future unfolded.

They refused to pay taxes.

They refused to coordinate or cooperate on any political or military decision.

Their message was clear: Weʼre not following you anymore.

And beyond all that, there was the looming, unanswered question of Lord Hedrick. No one, not a single empire, had the faintest idea who was funding

him, who was supplying him, or who was secretly sustaining the Centennial Empire itself.

For the countless nations exhausted by Bright Galaxyʼs endless demands and suffocating yearly taxes, betting on that mysterious benefactor became the safest and smartest option. He represented a future outside the Galaxyʼs

control.

This became the lowest point the allied army had ever fallen to, and simultaneously the bleakest, most humiliating era the Bright Galaxy had ever witnessed in its long history.

Even though Hedrick had lost control of all his planets-and a full third of them had already been obliterated, reduced to drifting chunks of rock wandering aimlessly through space-he still began to be seen as the victor.

People began to believe the war was simply a matter of time, a countdown until

the Great Lord Hedrick returned, reclaimed all his worlds, and expanded his domain even further.

And slowly, inevitably, everyone began to see him as the true ruler of Middle Sector 101-the man who held the sectorʼs fate in the palm of his hand.