"The Culinary Capital Is Suspected of Suffering a Stellaron Disaster—"
"Formerly known as Fragrant Cheese, the Culinary Capital has attracted enormous numbers of tourists since its establishment. As an emerging travel destination, it has provided a tremendous boost to the economies of neighboring star systems."
"However, all routes leading to the star system have recently become blocked, and reports suggest that a Stellaron crisis has erupted on the Culinary Capital."
"The Interastral Peace Corporation is still investigating the situation. We urge travelers throughout the universe to suspend their travel plans and exercise extreme caution before visiting the region."
"At the same time, the IPC stands ready to provide the Culinary Capital, Tiramisu, with all necessary assistance."
"The proposed assistance includes—"
...
"The frozen world of Jarilo-VI once fell beneath the iron hooves of the Antimatter Legion before the power of a Stellaron plunged it into an endless winter."
"For more than seven hundred years, until Genius Society Member #85, Mr. Lin Yi, broke the planet free from its icy prison, the Corporation believed it to be a lifeless wasteland devoid of civilization."
"Let us pay our highest respects to this resilient civilization, which shares our faith in Preservation."
"Following Jarilo-VI's liberation from the ice, Mr. Screwllum also spoke on its behalf and expressed his willingness to extend his protection to the planet."
"According to our investigations, many people throughout the universe believe that a planet capable of attracting the attention of two geniuses must possess something extraordinary."
"However, the Corporation would like to remind everyone that Jarilo-VI has recently experienced a coup. Its internal political situation is complicated, and its natural environment remains extremely hostile. We strongly advise against traveling there."
Of course, saying all that was one thing. Whether anyone would actually listen was another matter entirely.
Some visitors were hoping to discover technological creations left behind by the geniuses. Others wanted to study the device Lin Yi had installed on Jarilo-VI to restrain its Stellaron.
And, naturally, there were also those who had come specifically for the snow bears.
All sorts of people had gathered there, turning the planet into quite a lively place.
...
Meanwhile, on the other side of the universe, a rather unusual "war" had just concluded on Kasbelinyat VIII.
As usual, the Interastral Peace Broadcast was reporting events after the fact. The Family's envoy had already arrived, and so had the Antimatter Legion led by the Harbinger of Calamity.
The Legion's advance had left several civilizations trembling in terror. Yet its forces had passed straight by those worlds without attacking, heading directly for Kasbelinyat VIII.
The moment they arrived, they wasted no time in greeting the planet in a most distinctive fashion.
Three thousand Doomsday Beasts lined up in orderly formation and simultaneously unleashed their breath attacks toward the surface.
The resulting spectacle was overwhelming.
This was the true purpose of Doomsday Beasts on a large-scale battlefield.
Massed bombardment.
Their ominous wings blotted out the heavens as their attacks descended like the apocalypse itself, plunging anyone who dared stand in their way into utter despair.
Against a civilization without the means to counter them, a single bombardment was enough to scour the surface clean.
Congratulations! Your home has been converted into mineral deposits. (X)
It was the perfect tactic for crushing weak opponents: efficient, effective, and spectacular to watch.
Its only drawback was that it worked exclusively against weak opponents.
After all, Doomsday Beasts were enormous targets. Their attacks were devastatingly powerful, but their charging time was ridiculously long, making them easy to interrupt.
Against civilizations capable of counterattacking, they were little more than oversized target dummies.
Go on, keep charging those breath attacks. Let's see how many of you survive long enough to fire.
In wars between forces of comparable strength and scale, Doomsday Beasts were essentially elite cannon fodder. Their enormous size and remarkable durability made them useful for charging at the front, absorbing damage, and smashing through enemy formations.
Nobody particularly expected them to deal much damage themselves.
And if they were killed, their cores could still explode.
What better frontline unit could you ask for than a massive, durable beast that came with a death-triggered explosion?
A Doomsday Beast was called a Doomsday Beast because it heralded the apocalypse and led the advance of Destruction. Its true terror lay in the endless Legion marching behind it, not in its reputation as a planet-destroying weapon.
Without an army to support it, an isolated Doomsday Beast was so cumbersome that even a reasonably capable Pathstrider could run circles around it until it died.
Unfortunately for the Antimatter Legion, this time they weren't dealing with helpless prey.
They'd picked a fight with something considerably tougher.
The moment the Doomsday Beasts' overwhelming bombardment entered Kasbelinyat VIII, the attacks underwent a bizarre transformation.
Candy, rice, and liquid chocolate began raining from the sky.
There was practically everything imaginable—except anything capable of hurting someone.
Even the "gifts" dropped from high above by the Doomsday Beasts would automatically slide aside just before striking anyone on the ground.
An attack that had appeared capable of destroying heaven and earth ended without a single person being injured.
The hideous, terrifying Doomsday Beasts no longer resembled weapons of war. Instead, they looked like messengers dropping presents from the sky to entertain children.
The celestial rings surrounding the planet continued to shine and revolve.
The Harbinger of Calamity commanding the Legion's forces watched the spectacle, his expression darkening.
This wasn't merely a tough opponent.
He'd kicked a steel wall.
With a sweep of his hand, he issued another command.
The Doomsday Beasts immediately folded their wings inward, curling their enormous bodies into something resembling gigantic balls.
Their cores began to glow.
Then, with their wings tightly wrapped around themselves, the beasts plunged toward the planet's surface.
The Harbinger intended to use them as disposable explosives, detonating all three thousand Doomsday Beasts in one enormous suicide attack.
Unfortunately for him, the celestial rings only shone more brilliantly.
The Doomsday Beasts that exploded in midair transformed into a shower of sweet treats.
Those that struck the ground bounced back up as though they were pieces of candy dropped onto pudding, before bursting into countless plush toys.
Limited-edition Doomsday Beast plushies! Only 199,999 credits each!
Some of the beasts suffered an even stranger fate. Just as they were about to touch the surface, the ground suddenly split open beneath them.
Once a Doomsday Beast had fallen inside, the opening snapped shut again.
The entire process looked disturbingly like something chewing its food.
It was a genuinely horrifying sight.
All three thousand Doomsday Beasts disappeared without causing so much as a ripple, swallowed up as effortlessly as firecrackers tossed into the sea.
The people who had offered their prayers seemed to have developed a peculiar mutual understanding. Now, as though acting on the same unspoken signal, they all raised their heads and looked toward the sky.
The Harbinger of Calamity had already decided to retreat.
He did not fear the arrival of Destruction. However, he had yet to complete the mission Lord Phantylia had entrusted to him.
Once he had razed the designated targets to the ground, he would return and confront this impenetrable shell again.
When that day came, either the Planet of Peace would be destroyed, or the Path of Destruction he followed would reach its end, and he would embrace his own destruction.
For now, it was wiser to avoid the enemy's strength and exercise a little patience.
A strategic withdrawal, if you will.
Unfortunately, it was already a little too late.
The Family's envoy from Montor was currently on the planet, and he had watched the entire farce unfold from beginning to end.
Now, the envoy couldn't shake the feeling that there was something seriously wrong with the Harmony practiced on Kasbelinyat VIII.
It seemed to have embraced something it shouldn't have.
Or perhaps it had simply embraced far too many things that had no business being mixed together.
The Tower of the Firmament had fallen. With the royal decree no longer binding them, the surviving people of Autran had scattered in accordance with their king's final wishes.
The Planet of Peace did not permit the existence of weapons capable of harming others.
Unfortunately, Kasbelinyat VIII itself happened to be a "weapon" of terrifying destructive potential.
But with the Antimatter Legion right before his eyes, the Family's envoy knew perfectly well which matter deserved his immediate attention.
He could investigate the peculiarities of this planet's Harmony afterward.
Right now, the most pressing issue was that a band of villains had dared attempt to defile the paradise upon which the Divine Master had bestowed a miracle.
Although the people of Kasbelinyat VIII had yet to formally enter the Family's embrace, the Family already regarded them as its own.
And now, villains had come seeking to harm his brethren—
This is getting a little excessive. Time for a slight nerf.