In the sky filled with fire and chaos, Mysha accelerated silently, flapping its wings like a massive black thunderbolt. It swiftly approached a silver aircraft, and with a simple squeeze of its claw, the sophisticated machine—a product of advanced civilization—was crushed. Bright sparks and thick smoke billowed from Mysha's claw as it tossed the pile of metal wreckage down to the ground.
"Hey, Mysha, leave some for my knights. They need to get used to these outsiders' toys." Muria, standing atop Mysha's head, tapped its head, enjoying the epic view of the battle.
"Myow!" Mysha let out a discontented sound. It still wasn't happy with the name Muria had given it. Its voice had matured slightly over the years, changing from a kitten's mew to that of a grown cat.
Boom! Boom!
One after another, the silver-winged birds were shot down by the Phantom Knights, crashing to the ground. From start to finish, this battle was a one-sided beating, with the extraterrestrial invaders being utterly overwhelmed.
At long range, the attacks fired from these sleek, high-tech fighter jets couldn't hit the Phantom Knights at all. Even missiles with locking systems were useless, as the knights could easily destroy them before they got close. In close combat, it wasn't even worth mentioning—the agility of these jets was no match for the Phantom Knights, who were guardians of the skies.
The name "Phantom" was well-deserved. When flying at full speed, even the best hunters of the Ikong people could only catch a glimpse of their shadows.
...
"Damn it! What's going on with these Ikong people riding monsters? Why do they all look like Bagdad?" In the base's command room, the commander watched his deployed fighter jets get shot down one after another. His face was filled with frustration and anger.
According to the rules of engagement, no matter the reason, if too many soldiers died because of his orders, he would bear some responsibility. With so many fighter squadrons destroyed, his future was essentially ruined.
Beep!
At that moment, a new image forcibly appeared on the command screen. An elderly man in a clean, well-pressed military uniform appeared, glaring at the commander with an angry expression.
"Alvin Herg, what are you doing?"
"I'm defending against a lord-level monster, General!" Alvin, the base commander, wasn't in the mood to be polite to the commander who had stayed safe in space.
"Monster? That's the Ikong people coming to trade with you! Who ordered you to attack?"
"Are you joking, General? Ikong people coming to trade, accompanied by a lord-level monster and a whole group of beasts? Do you know what else came with those monsters? One hundred and eighty-one Bagdad warriors!"
"Watch your tone, Colonel. You're speaking to a general."
"Yeah, a general hiding in space," Alvin scoffed. He was sure he wouldn't survive much longer, so he didn't care about holding back his frustration. He had been annoyed with this old man for a long time, and now that death was near, why should he stay silent?
"I'm coordinating rear support and logistics from up here. Without me, how do you think the base operates? Where do you think your supplies come from?" The general angrily defended himself, feeling the need to justify his less-than-honorable actions.
"You don't need a general to coordinate something like that!"
"Enough, Alvin Herg! I didn't come here to argue with you about trivial matters. Prepare yourself to be court-martialed after the battle!" The general cut off the conversation, returning to the main issue. "For now, stop the attack!"
"Impossible. I am responsible for the lives of the ten thousand people in this base!"
"You're sending them to their deaths! The Ikong people came to trade, not for a meaningless war!"
"Nearly two hundred Bagdad warriors and a lord-level monster, and you expect me to believe they came to trade?" Alvin stared at his superior, as if looking at a fool.
"Keep in mind, Alvin, that you ordered the attack first. They only responded!"
"So, according to you, all those dead pilots are my fault?"
"Exactly! Now give the order to stop the attack and apologize to the Ikong leader riding that lord-level monster—immediately!"
"No way!"
"This isn't my order. It's a direct command from the High Council! Do you plan to disobey? Before you decide, think about your beautiful young wife and your little daughter, who just started elementary school."
"You..."
...
"Esteemed leader of the Ikong people, I humbly apologize for my rash decision to attack you."
At a vast base spanning nearly a thousand square kilometers, Alvin Herg, the highest-ranking commander, dressed in a protective suit, led a group of trembling officers to an empty airstrip. From there, they bowed before Muria, who stood high atop Mysha's head, looking down at them.
Muria gazed at the young face behind the glass of the protective suit and listened to the flawless Ikong language coming from the translator on Alvin's shoulder. He couldn't help but feel a bit speechless.
He was puzzled by the logic of this civilization's leaders. After being thoroughly beaten by him and his Phantom Knights, suffering significant losses, they actually sent their commander to apologize. It wasn't like he had posed an existential threat to them. Did they really need to act so submissively?
Muria was convinced that this base surely had more powerful weapons at its disposal.
"When you arrived, I mistook you for a wild lord-level beast and ordered an attack. Please forgive my foolishness."
Forced by orders from the top, the young commander had no choice but to bow to the leader of a primitive civilization and beg for forgiveness.
This scene filled the surrounding soldiers with rage. In the brief but intense conflict, many of their comrades had died, while the "blue-skinned apes" hadn't suffered a single casualty.
"Before you apologize, could you take off that suit?" Muria asked, testing the waters.
"Very sorry, esteemed leader, but we must wear these suits to survive in your world. Without them, we can't last more than a minute."
"Oh, I see." Muria nodded thoughtfully. "I won't accept your apology. It's insincere."
"...?" Alvin clenched his fists inside his suit as he looked up at Muria. "What kind of sincerity do you expect?"
"That's up to you. I don't know what you outsiders have to offer."
"I understand." Alvin hesitated, then whispered a few words to an officer beside him.
Soon, the sound of heavy vehicles rumbled in the distance. Huge transport trucks arrived, and engineering robots unloaded piles of shiny armor and weapons, placing them before Muria.
"Does this satisfy your expectations, esteemed leader?" Alvin gestured to the mountain of outdated cold weapons. In his world, these were nothing but decorative junk, obsolete for thousands of years.
"Are you trying to mock me, outsider?" Muria grabbed the commander, lifting him into the air, and stared into his eyes.
"I don't understand what you mean, esteemed leader!" Alvin, bound by beams of light, maintained a calm facade, but inside, he was panicking.
There hadn't been a real war in his world for a long time—at most, just a few terrorist attacks. What he was facing now was far beyond his experience.
Alvin couldn't fathom where he had gone wrong. In his experience, the Ikong people were always thrilled by the large metal toys they produced.
"How long does it take for your technology to produce this junk? One breath? Two breaths?" Muria asked coldly. Bringing him mass-produced trinkets like these was an insult. They must have thought he was easy to fool.
"I don't know the exact time, but each piece embodies the craftsmanship of our—"
"Do you want to die?" Muria interrupted, slamming the commander to the ground.
"What do you want, then?" Alvin, now with multiple bruises from the fall, looked up at Muria.
"I want your knowledge!" Muria thought to himself but didn't say it aloud. It was pointless to express it; he knew they wouldn't hand it over willingly if they had any sense.
"I don't know what I want!" Muria replied in a flat tone. "Because I don't know what you have. So why don't you show me around your metal city? I'll take whatever I fancy when I see it."
"I'll need to get permission from my superiors!" Alvin stood up, hoping to buy some time.
"Go ahead, get your permission! In the meantime, I'll start taking a look around!" Muria waved dismissively and jumped off Mysha's head, heading toward the nearest building.
Now that he was here, he wasn't leaving empty-handed. It wouldn't make sense to come all this way for nothing.
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