The Horanian fleet entered firing range, their warships sleek and pristine, facing hundreds of human warships without a hint of fear.
They were proud knights, riding steel steeds, charging at an enemy fleet with vastly superior numbers.
Lights flashed among the First Fleet as eight main cruisers opened fire, brilliant streams of energy streaking across the cosmic sky.
"How is this possible?"
Before the aliens could mock the human barrage, scoffing at the incorrect direction of the energy beams, the Horanian warships' communication channels screamed.
Through simulated images, they witnessed an unbelievable sight.
The human warships' weapon systems launched orange energy lances that lit up the void, and these lances defied the laws of physics, bending and turning in the void as if alive and guided.
"Turn! Turn!" The bizarre scene made the fleet commander bellow urgently, his voice, slick as pus, suddenly turning shrill.
His command was swift, ordering the fleet to turn and deviate from its original trajectory to evade the human attack.
The fleet had to turn, for despite the powerful gravity deflection, the human firepower was too dense.
Once the gravitational field overloaded, they would face the concentrated fire of the entire fleet.
The cosmic scale is vast; energy lances travel at light speed, but even at extreme distances, hitting a target takes ninety light-seconds.
Ninety seconds is enough time for a ship to perform evasive maneuvers and leave the firing position.
Although fleet battles have "divination arrays" responsible for predicting ship movements, the hit rate at long distances remains very low.
Therefore, in cosmic naval battles, to avoid wasting physical ammunition and ensure the hit rate of various weapons, commanders try to close the distance for duels as much as possible.
The alien warships were agile, turning towards the First Fleet's right flank, forcing the fleet's left flank to pursue.
It was a reasonable decision, quite sensible for a situation where they were outnumbered.
Stretching the formation of the advantaged side, as many warships in a densely packed fleet would not dare to open fire for fear of friendly fire.
"Continue forward, maintain relative distance with the aliens, and stabilize the firing frequency of the energy lances."
Blazkowicz pondered for a moment on his throne, then gave the order. He watched the holographic images, his mind working at high speed.
He had never fought a real naval battle; all his commands were based on precise judgments of the current situation.
The enemy wanted to disrupt the First Fleet, so he could not let the Horanian succeed. He maintained the fleet's posture and continued to advance.
Fully utilizing the First Fleet's advantage—weapons that shot far and accurately—how could they let the alien tactics disrupt their formation?
The aliens fought their way, and the humans fought theirs; each fought independently.
A smile played on Blazkowicz's lips; he immediately understood.
The scale of the battlefield was changing, tactical systems were changing, but the mindset of war had never changed.
With this realization, his mind became clear.
A holographic control panel floated before him, displaying real-time battlefield changes within its spherical holographic space.
He lightly swiped his finger, issuing several commands, and the fleet rapidly changed formation.
The earliest flanking fleet continued to encircle, and from the main fleet group, a "fist fleet" was pulled out, advancing at full speed to pursue the aliens.
It was like the ancient human sport of boxing: the left hand delivers a fierce punch, while the right hand maneuvers, awaiting its opportunity.
Blazkowicz's operation was precise; the detached fleet had ample firepower and continuously fired upon the alien fleet.
The battle between the two sides unfolded on a galactic scale, every move filled with a battle of wits.
The first batch of energy lances, after a long journey, finally approached the alien warships, carrying the causality of "certain hit," and bore down on the Horanian's overly perfect mirrored hull plating.
The energy lances moved strangely; the scorching energy beams twisted like crimson snakes in the chaotic gravitational field, struggling to break free from the field's restraints.
Finally, to the Horanian's disbelief, it pierced through the gravitational field and accurately hit the hull.
At an ultra-long distance, the energy lances' power attenuated by ninety percent, leaving only a high-temperature red mark on the smooth armor.
Although it didn't penetrate the armor, the deterrent significance of the energy lance's hit far outweighed its destructive power.
Why do intelligent beings act with impunity? Because they have something to rely on.
Eight warships charging a hundred warships—no sensible person would do such a thing unless they were mad or foolish.
The Horanian's reliance came from the long-standing superiority complex accumulated through continuous raids on humans.
The detestable aliens knew that human warships' firepower could not penetrate their gravitational fields, so they acted with impunity.
Now, the human weapons were like a slap across their faces; though it didn't hurt, it was exceedingly loud.
It shattered their long-accumulated superiority complex and overturned the foundation of their impunity.
"Break through." The fleet commander made an immediate decision, ordering the fleet to scatter and break through into the void beyond the star system.
"We must leave, return to our homeworld, and inform our kin of everything that has happened here."
Its energy gland suddenly paused, and it said regretfully, "Humans are no longer objects our race can bully at will; they have returned to settle accounts."
"Our race will avoid the human's sharp edge and hide in the depths of the void. Humans cannot remain strong forever; when time passes, our race can make a comeback!"
Outside the viewport, human attacks grew stronger with each wave. As the distance closed, the power of the energy lances began to manifest.
The warship vibrated, and the pristine exterior of the warship showed burnished pits, its outer armor melting under high temperatures.
The Horanian warships were melting, and their established confidence was collapsing.
At this moment, their arrogance suddenly dissipated, and they realized with a shock how cold the universe truly was, and how scorching the energy lance weapons were.
Under Blazkowicz's command, the fleet's movements became increasingly agile; he made various bold attempts.
The First Fleet fragmented, with a hundred warships maintaining their power while scattering throughout the star system, hunting the alien warships.
Even with an absolute advantage in firepower, Blazkowicz focused even more on command details, honing the fleet's coordination and reactions.
The alien warships separated, moving in different directions, their panicked appearance much like large fish in a pond.
"Go capture a tongue for me." Blazkowicz watched as the aliens prepared to break through, and in a mental link, he ordered the Doom Slayers to attack.
"Your will be obeyed!"
The Gene-Father's offspring's response was as surging as a tide; they could finally show their prowess under the Gene-Father's gaze.
Among the First Fleet, an assault ship's engine particle stream surged. Its hull suddenly accelerated, breaking away from the battle formation and charging out.
Its objective was clear: to lock onto the largest enemy warship, likely the enemy's command flagship.
This is bad!
On the Horanian warship, the fleet commander's heart sank, knowing the enemy was coming for him.
"Fire! Fire!" He quickly issued attack commands, feeling a mix of panic and a hint of secret delight.
Panic because the human warship was rapidly advancing, and all the energy lances were being swallowed by the enemy ship's shields. After their own ships had separated, their firepower seemed somewhat weak.
The enemy ship approaching had a clear intention: the humans wanted to execute boarding tactics, entering the ship to cause widespread destruction.
The fleet had a firepower advantage, yet they were going to such extra lengths, clearly intending to capture him.
The commander was also secretly delighted; human arrogance would lead to their demise. Horanian warriors feared no enemy.
Born on the edge of a black hole cluster, Horanian bodies were tempered through a thousand trials; every member of their race was a born warrior.
The weak human bodies could never defeat Horanian warriors; the boarders would simply throw their lives away.
He activated all his visual sensory organs, staring intently at the holographic image, watching the human warship rapidly charge to its death.
"Kin, we have guests. Eliminate them." The commander's killing intent was palpable, his energy gland flashing rapidly; he was highly excited.
Indeed, as he expected, the moment the two warships passed each other, the human boarding craft launched.
"Brothers! For the Gene-Father!"
Within the short-range communication, Rak's intentionally lowered voice was still clear; he was one of the first ten warriors.
"For the Gene-Father!"
The Doom Slayers' low growl, at first listen, lacked much passion, devoid of any emotional fluctuation.
But the passion hidden within it was as scorching as a star.
The super-intelligent chip was calculating, constantly providing real-time data. The boarding craft's four thermal melters activated, melting through the enemy ship's old wounds, already softened by the energy lances.
Boom~
The boarding craft plunged into the warship's interior. The moment it stopped, the restraints on the Doom Slayers' shoulders sprang open.
Within one-tenth of a second of the hatch opening, ten Doom Slayers burst out. In a matter of nanoseconds, their tactical visors had analyzed the battlefield environment.
The alien ship's exterior was smooth as a mirror, but its interior was exceedingly ugly, a stark contrast.
The interior was not clean corridors, but entirely made of gray, carbon-like keratinous circular passages, unsightly and filled with slimy liquid.
The boarding craft's thermal melters scorched, and the liquid evaporated into gas, permeating the boarding area.
"Light your blades, and slaughter them!" Rak issued the command via mental link, finding that communication couldn't keep up with their speed.
Multiple auxiliary systems within their helmets rapidly analyzed the Horanian's physiological structure, constructing effective scanning methods.
Soon, translucent slugs, two meters tall and four to five meters long, were outlined by the scanners.
Again, in an instant, the super-intelligent chip was even faster. The moment the brainwave transmitted, the composite cannon on the left shoulder fired fiercely.
A bright circular ring appeared at the muzzle of the composite cannon, a symbol of the incendiary weapon firing.
The incendiary ray was vicious and terrifying, designed for unarmored flesh; it would instantly ignite its victims.
At the same time, ten orange-red rays pierced through the smoke, igniting ten organic bodies.
The Doom Slayers moved swiftly, their composite shoulder cannons firing continuously, made even more formidable with the assistance of their super intelligent chips.
The moment the Horanian were ignited, Ra had already led his brothers to spread out their formation, maintaining optimal firing distance.
The composite shoulder cannons fired continuously; burst-fire rays, disintegration sparks, and thermal melt rays were unleashed dozens of times within a single second.
Atomic sparks exploded, burst-fire flames glowed orange, and thermal melt rays pierced through bodies.
Within one second, all enemies at the boarding point were cleared, and all Horanian were annihilated.
They didn't even have time to resist; their proudly tough fluid bodies were useless against high-tech weapons.
Carbonized skeletons rolled on the ground, gelatinous bodies were shredded, and massive bodies were perforated by thermal melt.
"Follow!" Ra issued a brief command.
Without a moment's mourning for the xenos, he identified the direction of advance, charging into the chitinous passage first, leading his brothers to follow.
"Watch their bodies." A brother noticed something unusual: the enemies coming to encircle them carried no external weapons of any kind.
The Doom Slayers immediately understood that since they carried no external weapons, the xenos' bodies themselves must be their weapons.
There was nothing surprising about this; the universe was vast and full of wonders, and biological weapons were common.
The Psychneueins annihilated by the Gene-Father carried their own psychic abilities, which were also powerful weapons.
The passage was extremely slick, filled with a misty, foul xeno stench, and the glow of energy weapons constantly flashed.
The Horanian, arriving in an unending stream, were so quickly dispatched by the Doom Slayers' ultra-fast reaction speed that they didn't even see their enemies.
The moment their bodies moved, they were immediately attacked by various rays, and they died without understanding why human reaction speed was so fast.
After the xenos died, their bodies' gelatinous tissue rapidly peeled away, leaving a pale white spine.
The warriors' long spears were indestructible; the xenos' bulkhead doors constantly dropped, only to be torn apart by blue dimensional energy blades.
Along the way, not a single xeno survived, all vaporized by different powerful weapons.
"Watch out!" The psychic link communication transmitted the warning as Ra saw a xeno's body glowing around a corner.
The Horanian completed its charge, its upper body rising, its abdominal energy glands rapidly flashing, as it unleashed a purple-black lightning bolt.
The purple-black lightning was fast, but the Doom Slayers were faster!
They moved like phantoms, displaying incredible agility, instantly halting their forward momentum and leaping in the completely opposite direction.
The "Restraint" technology from Argent Nur demonstrated its powerful effectiveness in the narrow passage.
The xeno's pre-aimed lightning bolt missed all Doom Slayers, striking the ground and exploding.
Ra's reaction speed was extremely fast; he clearly saw a momentary, miniature singularity appear where the purple-black lightning struck the ground.
Boom~
A deafening sound exploded, nearly four square meters of ground were torn away, compressed at the location where the singularity vanished, leaving a fingernail-sized piece of compressed matter.
!!!!
Even the Doom Slayers, having read extensively in the War College, were astonished.
Horanian. They could use their flesh to create miniature singularities, with power far exceeding conventional weapons.
Their not using external weapons indeed had a reasonable explanation.
The ability to create miniature singularities with their bodies was astonishingly powerful, surpassing the weapons of most species.
Ra's next movement changed; he moved incredibly fast, leaving afterimages in the passage, approaching at a speed the xenos could not react to.
He spun around, released his long spear, and then delivered a punch, striking the xeno's back.
Iron fist met gelatinous body; the impact, transmitted through the auramite gauntlet, made Ra feel that the texture was off.
The Horanian's gelatinous body was extremely tough, similar to a non-Newtonian fluid, dispersing most of the force.
Ra changed his fist into a claw, his sharp auramite fingertips piercing the gelatinous skin, directly into the xeno's body.
His palm sank into a warm embrace, and Ra's fingers touched something hard; through the translucent body, he saw his hand touch the xeno's spine.
"Hah~" With a muffled growl, the large hand suddenly exerted force, crushing the spine while simultaneously tearing upwards, pulling out the xeno's brain.
Ra removed his helmet, quickly devoured the brain tissue, chewing a few times before swallowing.
Among the Space Marine modifications, there was one called "Gene-Detection Nerves" enhancement.
Its specific function allowed a Space Marine to gain information about an enemy's habits and some fragmented intelligence by consuming its flesh and blood.
However, the Space Marine Legion did not encourage this, unless the situation was extremely urgent and unconventional methods were necessary.
This was because the acquired memories would impact the Space Marine's mind, and over time, could lead to psychic corruption.
Despite having this function, the Space Marine Legion used it cautiously to avoid psychic corruption.
The Destroyer Legion, blessed by their Gene-Father, was immune to psychic corruption.
They were still very cautious, rarely using "Gene-Detection Nerves" to avoid unnecessary trouble.
The Ninth Legion, known as the "Ghoul Legion," was a negative example.
Now, the situation was urgent; the Horanian's biological weapons were beyond the danger threshold, and Ra had to understand the xenos.
After eating the Horanian's brain tissue, Ra immediately put on his helmet, turned around, and caught his long spear before it hit the ground.
The entire process was swift and sharp, a series of actions incredibly concise, yet creating the illusion of dazzling speed.
The Gene-Detection Nerves activated, extracting intelligence from the xeno's brain.
Horanian—meaning "Children of the Abyss."
They originated within the Star Cemetery, in the black hole clusters formed after stars died, and were naturally capable of manipulating gravity.
The memories were vast and fragmented; Ra's nerves rapidly processed, consciously selecting the information currently useful.
He quickly learned the ship's passages and directions, leading his brothers forward.
"Long-range firing." Ra raised his left arm, resting his right hand holding the long spear on his forearm, forming a makeshift firing platform.
To prevent close-quarters combat risks, he decided to use long-range firepower suppression.
Within the xeno ship, there were not many defensive facilities; defense relied entirely on the Horanian warriors.
The Doom Slayers advanced rapidly; the Horanian could not stop them.
The xenos' biological weapons were powerful, but their reaction speed was very slow, even slower than normal humans.
With ten warriors acting at full power, the Horanian's speed, in their eyes, was indeed like Terra slugs—too slow!
Within the grey chitinous passage, the black-armored warriors moved like phantoms, energy beams constantly flashing, as they mercilessly harvested xeno lives.
The fleet commander stood dazed on the bridge; it did not understand why the weak humans were so powerful.
These black-armored warriors seemed like two different species compared to the humans they had previously bullied at will.
The invaders moved extremely fast; the commander had to slow down the holographic projection to even discern their movements.
Originating from the edge of black hole clusters, they gained tough bodies resistant to gravity, but the Horanian's thought speed was somewhat slow.
In past wars, facing human resistance, their tough bodies were impenetrable.
Human automatic weapons struggled to tear through their gelatinous skin, while the warriors' singularity rays killed large numbers of humans with a single shot.
The combat between the two sides was very uneven; a small number of human energy weapons could harm their kin, but they were too few.
"Full breakout!" The commander issued its final order, telling its kin to leave quickly.
Its thought process, which was considered extremely fast among its kind, realized that the difference between humans and humans might be greater than the difference between itself and humans.
Now, the raiding fleet's only mission was to issue a warning, the most severe warning of survival.
The commander's upper body rose, revealing the dense small tentacles on its abdomen, rapidly clicking the holographic control panel.
Xeno script flashed rapidly, composing an assessment report, which was sent to every warship within communication range.
This was all it could do; everything else was up to fate.
Footsteps were approaching, like the Grim Reaper holding a scythe in a nocturnal dream, steadily closing in on the bridge.
The commander's body was flickering, the energy within it becoming active.
It clearly knew that the humans' aggressive attack ultimately targeted itself.
The commander understood even more clearly that it could not withstand human interrogation, and self-detonation was the easiest way to die now.
Bang~~ The bridge door was kicked open by auramite boots, and the black-armored warriors strode in.
"Humans! You… …"
The xeno let out a slick shriek, mocking that human efforts would ultimately be futile.
Unfortunately, it overestimated itself and underestimated the Doom Slayers.
The moment he entered the bridge, Ra saw the mission objective flickering with purple light and knew its intentions.
He moved with lightning speed, raised his long spear, and fired a cutting beam, precisely hitting and severing the xeno's spine.
Through the battles along the way, the Doom Slayers knew that the slug-like xenos' spines were also their neural centers.
With its spine severed, its body lost neural signals, and its abilities rapidly declined; the giant slug's raised upper body slowly collapsed to the ground.
Ra walked to its limp body and grabbed the slug by the back of its neck: "Inferior creature! Whatever you have to say, you can say it to the interrogation machine!"
The Horanian fleet burst into flames one after another in the void, ultimately annihilated.
The First Fleet, with its overwhelming numerical and firepower superiority, compensated for its lack of combat experience.
The last flagship was retrieved by personnel specially dispatched by Argent Nur.
During the fleet battle, Sophia discovered that the Horanian warship material possessed extraordinarily unique properties.
The alien warship material had a very special molecular structure; it was towed back to Argent Nur for the Iron Men team to analyze and replicate.
The First Fleet docked in orbit around the Human World, looking down at the scarred Human World.
Horanian manipulated gravity, enslaving populations and plundering the land, leaving the entire world devastated.
"Are you willing to accept Argent Nur's rule?" Blazkowicz asked the human representative from the bridge of the Royal Majesty.
After repelling the Horanian, the Human World proactively sent a message, contacting the void fleet.
In the holographic projection, an elderly human stood ramrod straight, bald with a white beard, possessing a sharp demeanor.
The Human World on the edge of the Star Cemetery had long resisted various alien species, forming a unique military government culture.
With military personnel in power, multiple worlds united to form a military government, highly armed, with almost everyone a soldier.
"...Sir," the elder saw the person seated on the throne and was stunned for a long time, awed by the other's extraordinary presence.
In his weathered eyes, a hint of reverence was subtly revealed, as flustered as a new recruit meeting a commander.
"I wish to return to the embrace of order, but the Military Alliance is not solely our decision," the elder stammered, telling the god-like person he saw of his predicament:
"The Military Alliance has existed for a thousand years, with six star systems and seventeen worlds allied, resisting alien incursions."
"We are willing to join; I cannot be sure of the attitude of the others."
"Please contact your allies, elder; we need to talk." Blazkowicz's expression was calm, his deep eyes showing neither joy nor sorrow.
He had long been accustomed to concealing his emotions to avoid revealing information during negotiations.
"I understand, I will get back to you as soon as possible." The elder placed his left hand on his waist, his palm supporting his military cap, and raised his right hand in a salute.
Blazkowicz nodded, and the holographic projection before him dimmed. His eyes shifted slightly to look at the bridge floor.
The world below, though ravaged, still resisted tenaciously; such spirit was commendable.
He personally did not wish to resort to force; peace talks were the best outcome.
The Military Alliance. The humans here grew up in the fires of war; if peace talks succeeded, it would be an excellent world for conscription.
Sophia had already sent a representative to conduct peace talks with the Military Alliance, and these talks were not simple.
The Nur Stars were the core territory, the base of Blazkowicz's power, and the most important star cluster.
The nearby star systems were controlled territory, actually controlled by the Nur Stars, which held all political and military power.
Worlds far from the Nur Stars' territory were "influence territory."
Because they were far from the Nur Stars, and even far from the controlled territory, only influence existed.
Worlds designated as influence territory had different obligations and received different policies from Argent Nur.
Argent Nur would provide some assistance but would not directly control them, allowing local people to form governments.
Worlds in the influence territory would provide Argent Nur with tithes, paying in population or resources.
It was, in fact, another form of "tithes."
The difference from an empire was that Argent Nur would arrange personnel to politically supervise worlds willing to submit to Argent Nur.
Argent Nur would rotate supervisory personnel and have evaluation fleets oversee them, maximizing efforts to prevent corruption and degradation.
This was the most effective plan Blazkowicz could currently conceive for the thousand-light-year influence territory.
As for more distant territories, Argent Nur did not have the capacity to manage them; rather than expending effort to conquer and manage, it was better to leave them to the Empire.
Internal management was Sophia's forte, and Blazkowicz did not pay too much attention to it. He lightly raised a finger and reopened the holographic image.
The Horanian commander was in the ship's interrogation room, a crumpled mess.
Interrogators applied various tortures, causing the alien immense suffering.
It remained stubborn, its nostalgic voice cursing, trying to distract itself to some extent and ignore the pain.
"You damned humans..."
Before it could finish speaking, the black-robed interrogator inserted a torture device into its anus, and a dark cable twisted its way forward through its transparent body.
"Ah!!!!!!"
The cable pierced its dignity, and the electric current shattered its last resistance. A horrific scream of unparalleled misery erupted, and the alien succumbed to the torture device: "I'll talk..."
The commander had not overestimated himself; suicide was the best option. It had underestimated human cruelty.
In just three rounds, its will to resist collapsed, submitting to the tyranny of the torture device.
"What a pity..." The black-robed human, not yet satisfied, his gaze filled with disdain: "I thought you were a tough guy, but you're just a weakling."
The commander dared not retort, nor resist, its body cowering.
These humans were inhumane; those unprecedented torture devices were too terrifying. It did not want to experience them a second time.
To ensure it experienced everything, humans even healed its severed spine; it wished it had not been healed.
Soon, the alien was brought to a lie detector and told everything it knew.
Blazkowicz looked at the holographic image, a smile playing on his lips. The interrogators from the "Punishment World" were indeed very professional.
They coaxed, threatened, and enticed information out of it.
"If you don't talk, there are plenty of your compatriots who will; you are not our only captive."
The simple application of the "prisoner's dilemma" horrified the alien commander, who then disclosed all intelligence.
Interrogation proceeded in parallel, with information cross-referenced to ensure its veracity.
After being organized by the interrogators, the Horanian intelligence was uploaded to the ship's data core, available for the fleet to access at any time.
Blazkowicz casually called it up, browsing the interrogators' work.
The more he read, the heavier his heart became, his thick eyebrows furrowing.
The alien race originated from a black hole cluster, at the equilibrium point where black hole gravity converged. There, some shattered worlds existed.
Horanian. Their world had no sun; the only light source came from the black hole's "accretion disk."
Over thousands of years of development, they used their innate talents to develop corresponding technological branches.
Technology allowed them to leave their homeworld, collect matter from the black hole's accretion disk, and establish artificial worlds at the gravitational equilibrium point.
The Horanian emerged from the Star Cemetery a thousand years ago, and the first race they encountered was humanity, with whom they had fought for a thousand years.
Believing humans to be a nascent race as well, they unhesitatingly launched an invasion, attempting to annex humanity to strengthen themselves.
The conquest met with fierce resistance. The Horanian did not understand why humans, also a nascent race, were so incredibly fanatical.
The war between the two sides lasted a thousand years, at least on the surface.
Within the black hole cluster, immense gravity stretched time, and time passed extremely slowly.
From a human perspective, the Horanian's millennium of plundering meant they came once in a very long time, allowing ample time for preparation.
The Horanian, however, were different. They would transport plundered resources and populations back to their artificial worlds and then emerge again, by which time a very long period had passed in the outside world.
To date, there were three artificial worlds in the Star Cemetery, with a Horanian population of eighty billion and two billion enslaved human inhabitants.
A problem lay before Blazkowicz: a chasm created by physical laws, forcing him to deliberate carefully.
Eighty billion alien inhabitants, three fully armed artificial worlds, and a large number of fortress space stations.
The most crucial point was the difference in time flow.
According to the intelligence provided by the aliens, within the stable zone of the black hole cluster, the time flow ratio to the outside world reached one to one hundred.
One month in the black hole cluster was one year outside. It was an abyss where time had fallen.
Blazkowicz's fingers rubbed together. The Horanian had to be eliminated; this much was clear.
The alien race had immense potential; by manipulating one of the universe's fundamental forces through their physiological structure, allowing them to develop further would leave a lasting poison for generations.
Blazkowicz's biggest concern was time; the First Fleet absolutely could not get bogged down in a protracted war. Annihilating the alien stronghold had to be a quick and decisive battle.
"Everyone," his gaze swept across the bridge, his voice authoritative and resonant: "Do you have any good solutions?"
All information about the Horanian was displayed across the entire bridge; holographic images enveloped the staff.
The bridge was silent. Many extraordinary beings carefully analyzed the alien intelligence, attempting to find a breakthrough.
"Sir," the iron man Gates waved his tentacles, and the holographic control panel moved with him, "I have a plan."
An iron man's computational thinking was extremely fast; it was the first to present a plan. It created a holographic image, outlining its data-driven idea.
"Speed and decisiveness are the first priority," the mechanical synthetic voice was cold and emotionless: "The extermination of the aliens is the second priority."
"My suggestion is simple: use extinction-level weapons on a large scale to destroy the alien artificial worlds."
Seeing iron man's plan, which listed dozens of weapons, Blazkowicz did not outwardly respond, but inwardly weighed its proposal.
Gates' plan was highly efficient; its objective was clear, going straight to the point of exterminating the alien race.
As for the human population, since they were not Argent Nur's citizens, they were not within its consideration.
"And you?" Without changing his expression, he shifted his attention to the stone man Viktor.
Viktor's large hand caressed his head; as a Stone Man with humanity, he naturally understood what his Lord was thinking.
The two billion people plundered by the Horanian were a precious asset, and his Lord wanted to protect them.
Viktor scratched his head, his eyes flickering, and his voice was somewhat hesitant: "My method is a bit despicable..."
"Speak freely," Blazkowicz said with an encouraging smile, "The final decision rests with me."
Receiving his Lord's permission, Viktor breathed a sigh of relief, no longer hesitating about the implications, and spoke his plan: "A false peace to exchange the people, then use extinction weapons to wipe out the Horanian."
Blazkowicz slowly nodded; Viktor's starting point indeed touched his heart.
Two billion people, a rich treasure, they were members of the Military Alliance who had been enslaved.
Due to the time flow, the two billion people were enslaved in the black hole cluster, and time passed very slowly for them.
The current members of the Military Alliance were descendants of these enslaved individuals, several generations removed.
Saving these people would undoubtedly be a huge gift, a gift to win the loyalty of the Military Alliance.
Having territories within the sphere of influence that completely submit to Argent Nur was of great strategic significance.
"That's impossible!" Sophia appeared instantly, looking sternly at Viktor: "The Lord's glory cannot be stained with the blemish of 'betrayal'."
Her usual calm and rationality were gone; her eyes wide with anger, she accused the Stone Man artisan: "Has your biological thinking failed? Have you considered the consequences of this plan?"
Facing the accusation from the Central Law, Viktor opened his mouth but ultimately did not refute.
"Don't blame him, Sophia," Blazkowicz said slowly, calming Sophia's anger: "I told him to speak freely."
"I've considered it carefully; there is no other way to use this plan."
His expression hardened, and a cold glint flashed in his eyes: "To deal with the xenos, we sometimes need to abandon shame and morality; they are not worthy of our trustworthiness."
"But..." Sophia's face was anxious; she wanted to stop her Master's terrible idea.
Blazkowicz raised his hand to stop her: "No need for further words, I have my own judgment, the decision rests with me."
Sophia bowed but did not leave, still glaring at Viktor.
The latter averted his gaze, not daring to meet the angry Central Law's eyes, and looked at the starry sky outside the viewport.
Blazkowicz was weighing the pros and cons; the speed of conquest had to be fast, preferably within half a year.
He could not stay in a different time flow for too long; he needed to be constantly vigilant against Chaos causing trouble, ensuring he could always provide support.
Chaos was Blazkowicz's primary enemy; the Gods were constantly creating disorder, and their long silence surely portended a greater conspiracy.
Now, the fleet must attack, and quickly.
The Horanian had made it very clear; before it was captured, it had issued the most severe warning, instructing its kin to preserve their strength.
The Horanian, now huddled in the black hole cluster, was likely planning an escape to preserve the species' spark.
The plan Viktor provided was highly feasible, at the cost of some self-credibility.
While Blazkowicz was deep in thought, someone on the bridge made a new, unexpected move: a person walked towards the central console.
The tall Obelisk, clad in black armor, his steps heavy, held his spear and walked towards the holographic image.
With a wave of his hand, he brought up an image; a clear figure appeared, representing the Military Alliance.
"They have been fighting for a thousand years; it should be them negotiating peace, and we are outsiders, third-party witnesses."
Obelisk's voice was very deep; after speaking concisely, he immediately retreated to a corner of the bridge, standing there quietly.
All beings present were extraordinary; any matter was understood with a hint, requiring no extra explanation.
Obelisk's meaning was simple: let the people of the Military Alliance negotiate peace with the Horanian, with the First Fleet as a third-party witness.
A ceasefire between two parties does not mean a ceasefire between three parties; it was merely a small word game.
"Highly feasible!" Sophia's eyes flashed with data streams, calculating the plan's feasibility.
She absolutely endorsed such a plan; after the humans were exchanged, tearing up the treaty would not harm her Master's reputation in the slightest.
Even if it was self-deception, she would support this kind of plan.
The other individuals with speaking rights on the bridge, after some thought and calculation, nodded slightly; the plan's feasibility was not low.
They couldn't help but look up to that silent warrior, who possessed a delicate heart beneath his imposing exterior.
"Have the delegation contact the Military Alliance representative and ask for his opinion," Blazkowicz issued the order, endorsing his son's plan with concrete action.
"Send someone to talk to the captive; they are the best messengers, familiar with our strength."
"The fleet is preparing for battle; the first prerequisite for peace talks is to have enough power to make the Horanian sit at the negotiating table."
With the highest order issued, the fleet quickly prepared for the next battle—a Charge into the Horanian's lair.
The plan for a false peace proceeded rapidly.
Upon hearing the battle plan, the Military Alliance did not hesitate at all and actively participated.
They were deeply grateful, thanking Argent Nur for his benevolence, which would allow their ancestors and kin to return.
At the same time, the Military Alliance stated that if the enslaved population returned, seventeen worlds would submit and accept the rule of the Nur Stars.
Even knowing the stakes, they would still negotiate peace if the rescue failed, for man proposes, God disposes.
They asked the foreign saviors not to bear too much psychological pressure.
The Horanian commander was even more agreeable; it cheered with joy, willing to act as a messenger to persuade its kin, eagerly anticipating the outcome.
It had long given up hope, believing it would die in the Human World, burned at the stake.
It knew the sins it had committed against humanity were unforgivable.
A glimmer of hope suddenly appeared in its dark future, and the commander was moved to tears of gratitude, praising the mercy of fate.
As for any potential hidden schemes, the suspicion that arose in its heart was overwhelmed by intense joy, and it subconsciously ignored the danger.
The commander knew perfectly well the disparity in combat power between humans and its kin; they could resist for a while, but would ultimately be defeated.
This peace talk was an opportunity, a tremendous chance.
It saw the human's Warp Drive, an opportunity for its species to escape the black hole natural barrier and travel the stars.
Such is the gambler's mentality: knowing there's a trap ahead, yet still risking danger in the face of immense temptation.
"Viktor, go prepare," Blazkowicz told the Stone Man to leave: "Go prepare some 'small gifts'."
What 'small gifts'? Viktor naturally understood: 'small gifts' that could destroy the Horanian.
"Understood," Viktor bowed and left, relieved to escape the Central Law's sharp gaze.
The initial preparations were quick; the Military Alliance representative boarded the Royal Majesty, the fleet left behind a rendezvous ship, and then entered the Warp.
The Horanian's homeworld was deep within the Star Cemetery, hidden in a place where light struggled to escape.
"Elder William, please don't get agitated," Blazkowicz met the Military Alliance's envoy in the reception room, kindly telling the Elder: "Please sit."
The old man named William, in military uniform, was emotionally agitated at this moment; he dared not sit in the clean and tidy reception room.
Everything here was too beautiful.
William had only heard in legends of such grand and magnificent warships; how proud his ancestors must have been when they traveled through the void.
The Military Alliance had warships, but very few large ones; those steel behemoths had been dormant for a long time.
Small warships stayed away from the battlefield, hiding in the void, ensuring that humans could evacuate at the most critical moment.
The warship beneath his feet was like a dream, far more advanced than the remaining warships, and its owner, radiating divine light, sat across the long table.
William, past fifty, his heart hardened by trials, knew he shouldn't be flustered.
The god-like being told him to sit, so he knelt down: "I pay my respects to you, Lord from afar."
As his knees bent, William felt as if he couldn't kneel; a large hand supported him.
The giant before him made him dizzy; even on the battlefield against the Horanian, William had never been so flustered.
He bowed to him, preventing him from kneeling.
"...Lo...Lord..."
The old soldier's tongue was tied, unable to form complete words, his mind a mess.
"Old soldier, please relax," Blazkowicz pulled up the mortal soldier, offering a comforting smile: "The way you are now, you can hardly bear the weight of the plan."
At the mention of the plan, William, who was about to be immersed in the radiant smile, froze.
The old soldier decisively bit his tongue, a clear light flashing in his eyes, and reverence and shock were replaced by hatred.
"I will definitely complete the mission!" The soldier's voice was strong and powerful, his body standing ramrod straight: "For a thousand years, we have yearned for revenge!"
Seeing him calm down, Blazkowicz stood up and returned to his seat.
"This is the plan we proposed."
Blazkowicz's finger tapped the table, sliding towards the old soldier, and the contents of the plan appeared before him.
William's face was serious, his stinging tongue licking his dry lips; he was highly focused, reading the holographic image.
The plan was simple, yet allowed no room for error.
Soon, a meeting would be held here to facilitate peace talks between humans and the Horanian.
After the human population was exchanged, the fleet would destroy the Horanian world, completely exterminating the Horanian.
"I have no objections whatsoever; I will completely follow your instructions."
The First Fleet exited the Warp, returning to the real universe amidst a magnificent glow.
Raising his palm and clenching it, Blazkowicz clearly felt a viscous resistance, as if time had been compressed into a physical entity.
He looked through the viewport; there was no lush and brilliant starry sky here, as starlight could not escape the gravity.
A colossal accretion disk hovered in the void, like the greedy tongue of a black hole, devouring all light and heat.
Time was materialized by gravity, turning into sand at the far end of the accretion disk, but stretching into a linear form at its closest point.
Such a magnificent sight, yet before Blazkowicz could even exclaim, he immediately felt the Royal Majesty beginning to drift.
The Warp energy surrounding the ship dissipated, and the laws of real-world physics took over, with the black hole's gravity pulling at the ship.
Under the pull of gravity, the ships of the First Fleet collectively began to drift towards the lower right.
"Stabilizing the battleship," a cold, mechanical voice announced, as Gates hovered in the air, his mechanical tentacles flying rapidly.
The Iron Man performed multi-threaded operations, igniting multiple auxiliary engines, quickly stabilizing the battleship's drift.
"Recalculating gravitational formula," Sophia's rational voice echoed through the battleship before she was seen, "Injecting into the automatic control system."
The fleet's Iron Man stabilized the battleship, and the data core sent gravitational data, quickly stabilizing the battleship's posture.
"Lord. We need to leave quickly, the battleship's engine output is climbing."
Gates quickly reminded, and the holographic image displayed plasma spewing from the battleship's side.
Even without the Iron Man's reminder, outside the left viewport, all engines on the parallel battleship's side ignited, pushing the battleship to prevent further displacement.
"Lock coordinates, display our real-time position on the map."
The holographic image changed, showing a star map of the black hole region and the fleet's current location.
The black hole cluster map was painstakingly created by interrogation personnel, confirmed multiple times, even using psychic devices to extract alien memories.
In this extremely dangerous place, even a slight coordinate error could lead the fleet to fall into a black hole.
"Astronomical telescope has found the target, displaying on the holographic map."
Reports kept coming in, as the fleet's telescopes locked onto and discovered the alien's artificial world.
Three agglomerations of steel and chitin, shimmering with artificial light, were massive. Each artificial world was about the size of Terra.
Around these artificial worlds, various sized spaceships floated, guarding the alien homeworld.
"Full speed ahead, sink their battleships!" Blazkowicz sat back on his command throne, his gaze at the alien images gradually turning cold.
Just as he expected, hundreds of alien battleships of various sizes were assembling around the artificial worlds.
The first step of the plan was to demonstrate sufficient military might to bring the aliens to the negotiating table.
The First Fleet deployed into combat formation at full speed, all engines ignited, entering a full-throttle sprint.
The fleet plunged into the alien defense perimeter, piercing it like a dagger into skin. All capital ships opened fire, sending dense lances of light towards the alien battleships.
The alien battleships hastily formed up, advancing towards the First Fleet, constantly deploying gravity weapons to disrupt the Human fleet's formation.
Unfortunately, after the first wave of contact, the First Fleet was familiar with the alien's attack methods.
Horanian battleships and technology largely relied on gravity technology, making their attack and defense methods quite singular.
They lacked Warp engines, exploring the universe using superluminal engines, and had not encountered many other races, leading to slow technological development.
Their first battle after emerging from the black hole cluster was against the Human World, which offered stubborn resistance, blocking them at the Star Cemetery exit.
Their inherent power easily crushed Human remnants, so they naturally had no need to develop technology.
Like the Psychneuein, Horanian had fallen into a developmental dilemma—a lack of stimulation from powerful external enemies, causing technological stagnation.
The environment constrained their imagination. Before leaving the Star Cemetery, they believed the universe was just black holes, with no prosperous star clusters.
Before encountering Humans, they also believed themselves to be the only life in the universe, a fated race.
The two sides went to war in the dead deep space, which welcomed a long-awaited "prosperity."
A beautiful scene appeared in the void: scorching lances of light cut through the darkness, their trajectories not straight lines, but exaggerated angles.
Macro cannon shells, severely deviated by gravitational pull, were then entangled by "inevitable hit" causality, creating winding trajectories.
Heavy torpedoes were even more bizarre; their speed was the slowest, quickly losing power under gravity's influence, and hovering in the void.
But a terrifying scene unfolded: the torpedoes were extracted from the real universe like building blocks, appearing at their intended position just before detonation.
Guaranteed hit within range!
The incredible technology of the Golden Age, once fired, guaranteed a hit, defying physical laws.
The causality technology was extraordinarily superb; it wasn't natural technology, but rather a technical means to modify the universe's underlying logic.
Violating the peacefulness of the natural universe, causality was Humanity's unyielding stance, an unquestionable absolute will!
At the edge of the black hole, something more despairing than inescapable light occurred.
Horanian battleships were hit repeatedly, their smooth exteriors becoming pitted and scarred under various firepower.
The aliens discovered a terrifying fact: the Human battleships' hit rate reached a terrifying one hundred percent.
Their own battleships constantly sank, falling into the deep gravitational pull of the black hole, torn into fundamental matter.
The mutual slaughter of battleships felt sluggish to Blazkowicz. On the vast, infinite scale of the universe, void battleships were like tiny insects.
He had to suppress the Primarch's swift instincts, adapt to the slow tactical rhythm of the battleships, and await the outcome of the naval battle.
Although the battle's progression was identical to his mental simulations, he still had to wait patiently, that anxious waiting refined into serenity.
In the void fleet battle, the First Fleet's absolute firepower dominated, giving the aliens a hard time.
"Lord, incoming signal," Gates' mechanical voice prompted, "It's Horanian."
Blazkowicz put on a cold expression and gestured for the Iron Man to connect the signal.
"Humans…" A holographic image of a slug appeared. Its body's energy glands flowed slowly, making it appear very dejected.
Horanian's appearance and physique were almost indistinguishable; Human eyesight found it difficult to differentiate them.
"My race admits defeat," the Horanian's gelatinous body sagged, its slimy voice exuding dejection, "We are willing to negotiate with you."
"Negotiate?" Blazkowicz's face showed confusion, as if he hadn't understood: "There has never been negotiation, only racial extermination!"
Without revealing any emotion, Blazkowicz adamantly expressed his intention for racial extermination.
Negotiation was the goal, but it couldn't be revealed too early. By pressing relentlessly and showing no mercy, then relaxing just a little, the aliens would be utterly grateful.
"Even as humble as I am, I can see that you are a great being." The Horanian's tone became even more subservient, and its raised upper body lowered.
Though species and cultures differed, based on the instinct of biological evolution, a submissive posture to show surrender was a code etched into the genes of all cosmic life.
The Horanian pleaded: "In your great radiance, there should be no stain of 'racial extermination'."
"The Children of the Abyss have offended Humans, and we are willing to accept punishment."
"No! No! No!" Blazkowicz still shook his head, without any mercy on his face: "I deeply love Humanity, yet your race wantonly enslaved Humans. You must be held accountable."
The words were grand and righteous, revealing love and benevolence towards Humanity, perfectly segueing into the upcoming performance.
"Horanian will never surrender!" Having said all that, the Horanian could no longer endure, revealing anger and resolve.
"Lord! Please wait a moment." Just as the negotiations broke down, an old man rushed into the bridge, his expression anxious.
"Please forgive my intrusion," William said to Blazkowicz with an anxious, undignified expression: "Lord, please give me a chance to speak."
"Speak," Blazkowicz frowned deeply, very displeased, and raised his hand to allow him to speak.
"Thank you very much!"
William's face brightened. He turned to the Horanian and said: "The Military Alliance is willing to negotiate, but there is one prerequisite."
"What prerequisite?" The Horanian representative craned its neck, eager to know the answer.
"You abominable aliens," William gritted his teeth, his old face filled with grief and indignation, "must release the enslaved human population."
"This…" The Horanian hesitated, the frill on its abdomen undulating, clearly in a state of extreme indecision.
Intelligent beings are not fools; the aliens naturally knew that the only thing Humans feared, and what they held, were the two billion enslaved Humans.
With captives in hand, Humans might be hesitant to act, leaving room for maneuver. Once they were all handed over, Humans would have no more qualms.
"You have three days to consider."
Just as it hesitated, Blazkowicz applied pressure again: "After three days, we will launch an attack."
His face was expressionless, his voice firm and resonant, without any pretense.
Blazkowicz was speaking the truth; after three days, he would definitely launch an attack, disregarding any casualties among Human captives, and utterly destroy the alien race.
"Lord…" William's old voice pleaded, looking towards the throne.
His plea was cut short by a raised hand. Blazkowicz's eyes flashed with killing intent: "Old man, you have already given them a chance."
"We will consider it!" The Horanian quickly interjected. It needed to seriously consider and discuss with the authorities within its race.
Three days. The aliens learned Humanity's time standard through the holographic image.
Horanian had few choices in this predicament.
Human pressure, like a tidal force, slowly tore the Xenos towards the abyss.
Just at the most critical moment, someone threw a rope, offering the last hope of escape.
Would Horanian grasp it? Like a drowning person clutching driftwood, even with inner panic, they would never dare to let go.
They would struggle desperately, grabbing onto anything within reach, even a floating straw.
The Xenos Council debated fiercely, expressing their opinions and voting on the decision.
The opposition cited the cunning of Human captives as an example: they had repeatedly deceived their captors, and even attempted riots.
Furthermore, some had bribed Horanian to gain status in the mining camps, establishing armed gangs and other forces.
Humans were untrustworthy; cunning flowed in their bodies, and they would stop at nothing to survive.
The opposition's view was realistic: the Human captives could not be returned.
Those pathetic slaves had now become the race's lifeline and must be held on to tightly.
Even if Humans attacked, two billion Humans would perish, severely humiliating Humanity's powerlessness.
"But what if, fellow race?"
The fierce debate in the Council fell silent at the sudden question, and Horanian became quiet.
What if?
This damned 'what if' was the weakest point of intelligent beings, the unavoidable hope against hope.
Intelligent beings facing a dead end would calmly confront death, bravely sacrificing themselves to show courage.
But this was not a dead end; light had leaked into the darkness, and by simply trying to grasp it, the future was not out of reach.
The opposition's warnings were drowned out by the cheers of the peace faction, as the debate over survival became a sacrifice for peace.
The hardline opposition was powerless to refute that ethereal "what if."
The one who swayed the Council was the commander of the raiding fleet, whom Humans had released as a gesture of sincerity.
The commander stood tall, chest out, at the center of the Council, enjoying unprecedented attention.
He recounted what he had seen and heard, describing the power of Humans and their incredible technology—the Warp Engine.
The appearance of the Warp Engine caused the Horanian Council to erupt, with high-ranking councilors whispering amongst themselves.
The main reason for Horanian's limited development was that the race could not escape the black hole clusters.
The cosmic natural barrier that nurtured the race, a cradle protecting them from attack, was also an inescapable shackles.
With a Warp Engine, where in the vast universe could they not go?
For now, they would feign peace, submitting to Humans, and as communication deepened, they would steal the Warp technology and then flee!
Even the usually unyielding opposition now wavered.
The sudden news of the Warp Engine was too shocking, making Horanian dizzy.
The Horanian Council almost unanimously voted to return the Human captives in exchange for continued peace.
The Xenos race gambled, placing a heavy bet on "trust" at the poker table of destruction and survival.
For a future of soaring success, Horanian staked everything, betting on the slim chance of "what if."
"Sir, we are willing to return the Humans in exchange for peace talks."
In the communication image, the Xenos body was low, and its glands oozed mucus in flattery.
"I feel you have a conspiracy?" Blazkowicz looked suspicious, his eyes scanning the Xenos back and forth, his tone full of disbelief.
Horanian felt a stinging sensation on its skin; the gaze of that magnificent Human seemed to deeply wound it through the digital signal.
"We will immediately offer our sincerity..." It was trembling with fear and humility, afraid that its actions would displease the Human leader and bring about the destruction of its race.
As the Xenos finished speaking, the augur array showed delight, and the artificial world's shields and gravity fields lowered.
"Sir, this is our race's sincerity."
Horanian was cautious, not daring to speak much, quietly awaiting judgment.
Its heart was filled with immense panic and humiliation; its current homeworld was like a defenseless lamb.
A few volleys of shoulder cannons from the Human fleet could destroy the entire Horanian civilization.
Lowering the shields and gravity fields was a test for Humans, a warm-up before the big gamble.
"Alas~" Blazkowicz sighed deeply, a look of regret in the corner of his eye as he slowly shook his head: "I cannot refuse an elder's request."
"Xenos, prepare for peace talks. Do not make any small moves; my fleet can destroy you at any moment!"
Finally, Blazkowicz's eyes sharpened like knives, warning Horanian before agreeing to the peace talks.
"We have more sincerity to offer later," the slug's energy glands flickered, its emotions highly agitated.
Humans were honest and trustworthy; the race had passed the most difficult first step.
"I will go prepare." It slowly retreated, dragging its body. The Human's sigh just now, it thought, was a sigh that there was no reason for war.
The race must prepare quickly to avoid being caught by the Human in front of them and giving him an excuse to attack.
The holographic image dissipated, and Blazkowicz smiled; the plan was almost successful.
The artificial world below the bridge deck was now defenseless, tempting the fleet to attack.
The Xenos' test was simple and clumsy; in their shallow culture, there was no war philosophy of "if you want to take, you must first give."
The pressure from the fleet, the demands of the Military Alliance, and the sweet bait thrown out.
Step by step, one link after another.
Once the Human captives were evacuated, it would be the day of Horanian's destruction.
Humans, who had traversed the star sea for ten thousand years, were now teaching the young Xenos race a lesson: between races, it's only kill or be killed!
As for the tuition fee, Humans would not ask for too much, just the extinction of the Horanian race.
To show sincerity, the Horanian negotiation representative boarded a cruiser to negotiate with Old Sergeant William.
Sophia believed that the Xenos should not board the Royal Majesty due to the constant coming and going during negotiations, to avoid possible terrorist attacks.
After several deliberations, the final meeting location was set on a cruiser, serving as the venue for both sides' peace talks.
Through the holographic image, Blazkowicz saw the verbal sparring at the negotiating table, the back-and-forth over each clause, and the multiple compromises between politics and military.
He couldn't help but marvel at Old Sergeant William's toughness and the Military Alliance's seriousness.
Even if it was a performance, they still took it seriously, making the pretense real, constantly lowering Horanian's guard.
The Xenos were completely engrossed in the negotiations; their usual discussions were no longer about racial survival but about how to use the Humans in their hands to gain more power.
One side demanded exorbitant prices, the other bargained fiercely.
After a Terra month of negotiations, and with the First Fleet's very impatient urging, both sides finally signed the agreement.
Blazkowicz clearly felt that time outside the Star Cemetery was passing quickly, and the endless dragging of negotiations had to end.
Within his psychic senses, the soul fluctuations of the Doom Slayer were increasing, at a rate more than ten times faster than normal.
Blazkowicz briefly glanced at the content of the treaty signed by both parties; it seemed quite legitimate.
He would not expend mental energy to understand the deeper implications.
Before long, the contract Horanian had painstakingly secured would become a scrap of paper.
As a witness, Blazkowicz signed his name at the end of the final negotiation meeting.
All three party representatives were satisfied, cheering in the meeting room.
The return of the Humans officially began; the Humans, who had been treated as slaves, were respectfully escorted out by Horanian, who bid farewell to their Human 'masters.'
Their initially arrogant and now humble demeanor made the Human captives a bit unaccustomed.
Two billion people continuously boarded spaceships, transported out of the black hole cluster, heading to the Human World.
The massive population migration lasted a full three months, with battleship decks filled with people, constantly transporting them back and forth.
During the boring wait, Blazkowicz instructed the Primaris progeny and Sentinels in combat techniques in the Royal Majesty's arena.
On the training deck level, multi-branch cooperation drills were conducted, yielding excellent training results, as Superhumans and mortals bridged gaps and increased mutual understanding.
"Sir, in three minutes, the last batch of Humans will leave the Xenos world."
Gates faithfully reported to Blazkowicz; after five months, the fleet was finally ready to depart.
"You've worked hard," Blazkowicz thanked him. Gates' logical personality was cold, efficient, and ruthless, but he was a dedicated Iron Man.
"This is my duty," Gates lowered his body, and his two mechanical tentacles slowly saluted.
Blazkowicz nodded at him, then turned his gaze to the Iron Men artisan: "Viktor, how are your gifts coming along?"
"Guaranteed to be stunning," Viktor chuckled heartily. He conjured a holographic image, showcasing his arrangements.
"In three months, stealth reconnaissance ships deployed a large number of extermination weapons, enough to destroy the Xenos."
With the holographic image reflected in his eyes, Blazkowicz nodded, satisfied with the Iron Men artisan's deployment.
The reconnaissance ships used their stealth capabilities to deploy Iron Men-modified weapons around all Horanian facilities.
The weapons were covered in camouflage, completely silent and suspended in orbit before activation.
"They will love my gifts," Viktor's chubby face gathered into a smile, his eyes almost squeezed into slits by the fat.
The last humans boarded three cruisers. Blazkowicz ordered the fleet to slowly depart, lowering the aliens' guard.
In these final moments, it was best to avoid any complications and steadily advance the plan to seize victory.
As the human fleet's engines started, Horanian let out a long sigh of relief; the sword hanging over its head was finally withdrawn.
Humans, though domineering, adhered to their treaties.
A huge weight lifted from Horanian's heart, unaware that the human fleet was calibrating its weapon coordinates.
They were fantasizing about how to scheme and acquire the Warp drive in the coming days.
As the last group of humans boarded the ships, the massive human warships began to ignite. Some Horanian began to cheer, celebrating the departure of the human fleet.
"Destroy them," Blazkowicz stared intently at the holographic display, anticipating the fireworks Viktor had prepared.
Viktor opened a communication channel and ordered the three cruisers, "Send our farewell gift."
Amidst the cheers, the three cruisers ascended to high orbit, their engine output steadily increasing.
"Are they in such a hurry?" Horanian looked left and right, asking its kin.
The appearance of the human warships didn't look like a normal departure; instead, it seemed like they were escaping something terrifying.
"A Lamentable Elegy is about to descend upon the alien world," Viktor sighed. A species born from a black hole would ultimately be destroyed beneath a black hole.
Blazkowicz's eyes lit up, his heart filled with curiosity.
He knew of the Lamentable Elegy.
During Argent Nur's most perilous times, this extinction weapon was always on standby, meant to be used to perish with the enemy.
He had heard of its great name before, and today he would witness its terror.
Three Cyclone Torpedoes shot out from the cruisers' bellies, heading straight for the aliens' artificial world.
By the time Horanian reacted, cursing the humans' treachery and denouncing their betrayal, it was too late.
There was no gravitational field deflection, no shield to block them.
The Cyclone Torpedoes penetrated the planet's atmosphere without hindrance, carrying burning flames as they pierced into the ground.
To maximize their destructive power, the Cyclone Torpedoes carried mechanical sarcophagi, heading directly for the core of the alien artificial world.
"Humans! Faithless species, you have betrayed the alliance!"
Cursing echoed through the communication channel. A giant slug appeared in the full-screen image, furiously shouting, "You have vilely deceived the Children of the Abyss!"
"Look at your signatures; they are a symbol of shame."
It manipulated gravity, raising a parchment inscribed with vows and multiple signatures.
"This contract was signed between you and the Military Alliance; I was a witness." Blazkowicz also picked up the alliance parchment, pointing to a clause within it.
"It does not state that a witness cannot wage war against you."
With that, he showed a look of disdain and, to the aliens' stunned silence, openly tore up the treaty: "Aliens have poisoned humanity for a thousand years, yet they wish for peace?"
"Aliens who harm humanity will ultimately be purged!"
"Despicable and shameless!" Horanian shrieked. It knew its people had been deceived by human wordplay.
They had lost. In this high-stakes gamble, Horanian had lost completely.
The price of losing the gamble was extinction!
As the "Lamentable Elegy" erupted, communications flickered, and Horanian disappeared from the holographic image.
Hmph!
Blazkowicz snorted. The aliens' naivety and wishful thinking had cost them their last chance to resist.
Buzz~~~
Like a low hum, the entire artificial world began to vibrate.
Born at the edge of a black hole, Horanian was highly sensitive to gravity. Their instincts warned them that the gravity within the planet was skyrocketing!
The human weapon, detonated at the world's center, had created an artificial black hole!
Too late to escape, the gravity values surged wildly. Horanian used bio-energy to manipulate gravity, attempting a final struggle.
Alas, everything they did was in vain.
As gravity relentlessly intensified, their gelatinous bodies collapsed downwards, clinging to the chitinous ground. Fluids profusely seeped from their bodies pressed against the floor, their internal organs shifted, and their spines collapsed. The alien bodies were torn apart in agony.
The ground tremors grew stronger. From space, the artificial world's continental plates fractured, peeling off layer by layer from the steel framework.
Collapse, disintegration. Horanian, Children of the Abyss.
The aliens probably never imagined that the weapon that would extinguish them was the very gravity that birthed their species.
When the laws of nature stand in opposition, their ferocity and power are thousands of times more terrifying than when they are docile.
Matter stretched, squeezed, compressed. An artificial black hole slowly expanded from within the artificial world.
Like a greedy cosmic beast, it opened its void-like maw, devouring the material world in one gulp.
At this stage, even if there were tenacious survivors, their consciousness would stagnate, stretched in infinite gravity.
Individual consciousness began to materialize, infinitely elongated at the edge of the black hole, unaware of what they were, unable to touch any reality.
"Magnificent!" Blazkowicz couldn't help but clap in admiration; the scene before him was too stunning.
Lamentable Elegy, truly lived up to its name. An irreversible elegy, as grand as a poem.
Three black holes devoured three worlds. After they vanished, the three worlds were completely erased.
Nothing remained there, clean without a speck of dust.
With the disappearance of the three primary worlds, the alien space stations exploded, and hidden floating torpedoes destroyed alien creations.
"Leave three cruisers to continue patrolling this void, ensuring no fish escape the net."
Blazkowicz's rationality was awe-inspiring. He detached warships from the fleet to continuously sweep for any possible alien survivors.
He was not a indecisive or sentimental person. Once the seed of hatred was planted, he would thoroughly extinguish it.
After all the follow-up work was done, the fleet once again entered the Warp, leaving the black hole cluster.
In the years to come, apart from human war records, other species would find it difficult to know that an intelligent species had once been born on the edge of a black hole.
The First Fleet returned to the real universe, arriving at the star system on the edge of the Star Cemetery, re-entering normal time flow.
"My lord, I don't know how to express my gratitude. The Military Alliance will henceforth pledge allegiance to the Nur Stars!"
At the time of departure, old Sergeant William knelt before Blazkowicz, making a vow with a warrior's salute.
"Argent Nur will help you rebuild your home," Blazkowicz knelt to help the old man up, saying to him kindly, "Uphold your duties and maintain a strong culture."
"The universe is vast and boundless. Argent Nur needs warriors like you."
"I will not fail your expectations!" William saluted again, his aged face extremely serious.
After a farewell, William, leaving relevant personnel with the fleet, prepared to depart.
In Blazkowicz's plan, a War College would be built here, transforming it into an excellent mortal conscription ground.
"My lord, we have been gone for six years."
After the old sergeant left, Sophia immediately reported, knowing what her master cared about most.
"Six years?" Blazkowicz shook his head helplessly. The fleet had taken five months to annihilate the alien species with zero casualties.
After returning to normal time flow, time had quietly passed, gaining six years.
"Your important messages." Sophia was excellent; the arrangement of priorities was impeccable.
She immediately obtained the accumulated information from the rendezvous ships over six years, filtered and summarized it, then passed it up.
"Thank you, Sophia," Blazkowicz thanked his digital aide; she had done perfectly.
"I dare not claim credit," she said, though Sophia's body straightened slightly, immensely proud.
Blazkowicz's heroic and handsome face showed a knowing smile as he began to review the messages from the past six years.
Things on Argent Nur's side were steadily improving; the messages received were only periodic reports, with no major events having occurred.
Blazkowicz's Second Fleet had achieved extraordinary feats; the title of "Blazkowicz" was widely circulated in the Halo Stars.
He led the fleet to wander through the controlled territories, conquering many worlds and expanding the territory of the Nur Stars.
Harlan's Third Fleet, surprisingly, exceeded Blazkowicz's expectations. The Champion Swordsman changed his aggressive style, instead adopting a steady and methodical approach.
With each world conquered, he thoroughly purged the ruling class, promoting young people to high positions to govern the conquered worlds.
He also didn't venture far, cruising around the periphery of Argent Nur's core region, carefully searching for lost worlds to ensure the stability of the controlled territories.
Senna, leading the Fourth Fleet, had a clear objective: to operate between the controlled territories and the sphere of influence.
The Racing Master displayed his personal style, deploying numerous reconnaissance fleets to find the star cluster's transportation hubs.
Most of the worlds he conquered were strategically valuable, rich in resources, and densely populated.
Most crucially, the STC templates Senna unearthed and acquired were the most among the three fleets.
Blazkowicz nodded repeatedly. The three highly anticipated fleet commanders had indeed demonstrated their unique styles and ideas.
Blazkowicz was unstoppable, Harlan advanced steadily, and Senna conducted strategic conquests.
Their styles differed, but they shared a common understanding: never to be greedy or reckless, first conquering the controlled territories to ensure their stability.
Conquest was not the end; rather, it was another beginning.
The victory achieved must be made to realize its due value, otherwise, conquest was worthless.