"Do you not have a better suggestion?"
Hearing the AI's human-like recommendation, the captain slammed his hand on the armrest, enraged. His orders before departure had been to eliminate a bunch of primitive apes from another world. Now, the ship's AI was telling him that a lord-level entity beyond measurable power was attacking, his chances of survival were close to zero, and it was even recommending he hurry up and write a farewell note.
"I'm sorry, Captain, but as of now, I have no viable suggestions. Based on power levels, lord-level entities measure around ten thousand units. This incoming entity, however, exceeds our detection threshold and is at least ten times stronger than a typical lord-level. This level of difference leaves you and the crew with no chance of survival."
"I knew it; we should never have started a war on Pandora!" the captain thought bitterly, realizing there was no escape.
On the horizon, a golden light, like a sun, spread boundlessly, engulfing the sky in gold. Thunderbolts struck the attacking fleet from the golden clouds above.
"What is that?"
Badri, still gripping his spear and preparing to die with his tribe, froze at the sight of the golden-lit sky and the falling thunder strikes that hammered the off-worlder ships. A vision like this, unheard of and unseen, reminded him of the divine Tree, the only force he knew capable of such a miracle.
But quickly, Badri realized his mistake. This wrathful power wasn't from the Tree; it was the work of a mighty being.
Golden light appeared at the edge of the sky, forming a radiant path that extended above the village. A majestic figure strode down that path. Each step covered miles, and within moments, the being was floating over Badri's village.
Meanwhile, the golden thunderbolts reduced the six remaining ships to smoldering wreckage, raining them down onto the scorched ruins below.
"I'm too late," sighed Muria, standing in mid-air as he surveyed the hellscape below. The godly figure had rushed over after receiving the Tree's summons the moment the attack began, but he'd still been too far. Although he destroyed the ships immediately upon arrival, the damage was already done.
"There are survivors," Muria said, reaching out. Golden light poured from his hand, sweeping across the scorched area, pulling the remains of Ikoan bodies into the air. Among them were the few Ikoans still barely clinging to life. Mixed in with these were the off-worlder soldiers who had survived the thunderous assault.
"Great One, we beg for your mercy! We'll atone and make reparations—please spare us!" Pleading, the off-worlder survivors trembled before Muria, whose towering, golden-streaked figure resembled a god.
But Muria ignored their pleas. "Nine hundred seventy-eight Ikoans died from your cannons. Can they return to life if I spare you?" Muria's flawless command of their language shocked the survivors, and the meaning behind his words crushed their last slivers of hope.
"Damn outsider native! If you dare harm us, you'll pay when—" yelled one of the off-worlders, clinging to the last vestige of defiance in his hopelessness.
"I don't have the right to forgive you for my fallen kin," Muria replied, unaffected by their empty threats. "The only thing I can do is send you to them so you can beg for their forgiveness yourselves."
Turning away from the frenzied, despairing off-worlders, Muria focused on the Ikoan survivors. Most were in poor shape, missing limbs, with internal injuries from the explosions.
"Before you face my fallen kin, let your lives serve a meager atonement." Muria directed his hand at the barely ten remaining humans, golden light enveloping them. The light seeped into their bodies and then flowed out from their eyes and mouths. Their forms shriveled, hollowed out by the energy flow, which Muria transferred into the injured Ikoans, healing them.
Soon, only empty protective suits and piles of dust marked the off-worlders' final remains in this world.
"Still not enough!" Muria noted. The life force of less than ten humans wasn't enough to restore these gravely injured Ikoans, so he drew on the vitality of the forest itself, draining the blackened forest floor around him.
"Great King Ur, please save my son!" As Muria was healing the Ikoans, a desperate cry rose from below.
Muria looked down to see an adult Ikoan kneeling with his injured son, whose arms were severed, and whose chest was a bloodied mess.
"You recognize me?" Muria asked, slightly surprised as he surveyed the recovered Ikoans standing amid the ruins.
"I saw you once before in the cursed off-worlders' base!" Badri stammered fearfully.
"I looked quite different back then," said Muria, towering over five meters tall, twice the height of a typical Ikoan. "How did you connect that me to this one?"
Badri thought carefully, "It's a feeling, like a voice inside me told me you're the Ur King, like the guidance of the divine Tree!"
"The Tree…" Muria murmured, understanding. It was the world's will manifested, something transcending even the gods. In any world, angering its will would lead to a fall from godhood, as it held ultimate authority.
The world's will typically lay dormant, rarely intervening directly, but here it was unusually active, though that wasn't entirely unexpected.
As Muria was preparing to take the next steps to aid the Ikoans, a familiar stirring filled his heart once again.
"Am I a rescue team now?" A wry smile formed as Muria's true self, hidden within his reincarnated body, awoke.
Despite his sigh, Muria acted promptly, offering a few calming words to the Ikoan survivors before transforming into a golden streak, heading for the nearest village under siege.
With each act of salvation and with every Earth fleet he defeated, Muria felt the world's restrictions ease, allowing him to exercise more power. At this rate, his true self could emerge from his reincarnated body, and he could even open his demiplane, unleashing the army within, ensuring his invincibility in this world.
Of course, the world's tolerance to that degree would be challenging to attain. Yet for the first time, it seemed feasible.
…
In orbit above the Ikoan world, aboard the thousand-meter-long flagship Glory, General William, commanding the campaign, stood confidently before a massive display. The screen showed a hundred-mile radius around the forward base, marked with each Ikoan village and estimated combat strength. Every Ikoan village had one to three warship icons beside it, indicating the Earth fleet's widespread attack.
"Warning: Unknown high-level superbeing detected in combat area, seven warships destroyed within thirty-seven seconds. Command update required: Retreat all ships to minimize losses."
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