Though the Minotaur fleet was losing ships by the minute, they weren’t overly concerned about the Void Fleet’s corvettes and frigates hammering their backlines.

Their focus was still locked on defending themselves and trying to punch through the Void Fleet’s front lines to relieve the mounting pressure.

It wasn’t about concern—it was about survival. Every available resource had been committed either to the front or middle lines where the Void Fleet’s main battleships were pressing hardest.

So, to counter the flanking attacks, the Minotaurs gambled: they deployed over 4,000 fighters in a desperate wave to overwhelm and destroy the Void Fleet’s corvettes and frigates.

But even that didn’t work the way they hoped.

While the wave slowed the Void assault groups slightly, the Void Fleet’s light and heavy fighters were cutting through them at a devastating rate.

You could see it for yourself.

⸻

Left Flank – Group 1 POVAboard the Titan-class frigate

An alarm sounded across the bridge—a low but urgent tone.

Captain Raj Shekhar heard it immediately.

Raj was different.

He had volunteered for this forward position himself, even though he could’ve stayed safe back in the middle line aboard his personal battleship.

He preferred close-range battles. He was a pilot at heart—whether flying a corvette, a frigate, or even a fighter, speed and maneuverability were his true strengths. It wasn’t just preference—it was instinct, something born from another life.

And nobody—nobody—in the entire Void Fleet could match Raj Shekhar in close-quarters ship combat. Whether piloting a slow-moving bulwark or a darting fighter, he was untouchable.

Deadly.

Precise.

Today, he wasn’t sitting safely on a bridge. He was prepping Titan Bane.

A fighter unlike any other in the fleet.A gift from Imperial Commander Kallus (me), given after I personally witnessed Raj single-handedly destroy a simulated enemy battleship—one 1,000 times the size of his fighter—during a virtual combat session.

The Titanbane was unique:

• Shaped like a trident, covered in glowing runes

• Equipped with four turbo-lasers

• Armed with two Nova-class energy cannons—nearly rivaling battleship main batteries

• Carried miniature anti-matter torpedoes and plasma ordnance

• Fitted with a miniature FTL module for extreme battlefield maneuverability and range

• Powered by a transcend anti-matter core

• Shielded by a scaled-down Obliterator-class shield—small, but absurdly powerful for a fighter

The Titan Bane was larger and far deadlier than standard strike craft at 30 meters long, 40 meters wingspan, and 8 meters high.

Standing beside his fighter, Raj opened a comms channel to the frigate’s AI, Fireclay.

“Status report,” he ordered.

“Sir, enemy fighters—estimated 4,000 or more—have been launched and are moving toward our groups.”

Raj chuckled under his breath. “So they want to overwhelm us with numbers now that we’re a little separated from the main fleet?”

He shook his head. “These Minotaur’s… they still don’t understand the battlefield. Fifteen minutes into this fight, and they’re already losing—barely holding onto scraps of survival. Their pride blinds them… but even if they realized the truth, it wouldn’t change their fate.”

He muttered to himself as he moved toward Titan bane’s rear access hatch.

“Zorg, get the fighter squadrons ready. Tell them I’m joining them to help clean up this mess.”

A calm voice answered, “Yes, Captain. I will relay your orders to the nearby squadrons.”

Raj smiled as he climbed into the cockpit.

The fighter hummed to life around him.

“Welcome back, Captain,” came a new voice—his fighter’s personal AI: Tiamat.

Smooth, warm—almost amused.

“Hello again, Tiamat,” Raj answered, smiling slightly.

“Taking me for a spin today? Or crushing some space debris, Captain?” she teased, her voice playful.

Raj laughed. “Yeah. Just a little spin… and maybe clean up some garbage along the way.”

“You and your sarcasm…” Tiamat chided, chuckling. “But be serious—this won’t be a joke if they swarm.”

“They’re already space garbage, Tiamat,” Raj said casually. “Nothing but clutter in our way.”

“True enough…” she agreed, a slight laugh in her voice. “Alright then—let’s clear the skies.”

“Let’s,” Raj said, flipping the final switches as Titan Bane roared fully online.

Outside, the battlefield awaited—and Raj Shekhar was about to show the Minotaurs exactly what a real ace looked like.

Zorg, status?” Raj asked, eyes sharp.

“The squadrons are ready, Captain. All divisions are in position. Titanbane is ready to launch,” replied Zorg, the frigate’s AI.

“Good…” Raj said, almost casually.

He smirked inside his helmet. “Time for some garbage cleaning, Tiamat.”

“Of course, Captain,” Tiamat replied, a soft chuckle sounding in the cockpit’s audio.

Raj shook his head slightly and pushed the controls forward.

Titanbane lifted smoothly off Zorg’s hangar deck, hovering just a moment before Raj slammed the throttle forward.

The fighter shot out of the hangar like a newly-forged blade, drawn to cut down its enemies.

Except today, Raj wasn’t just a pilot—he was the Avenger.

He gripped the controls lightly, almost lazily, as the engines roared, the fighter accelerating until it became a beam of red light across the void.

Joining him were over 200 Void Fleet fighters, along with an additional 28 fighters newly launched from the supporting frigates.

Raj opened the comms to all Void Fleet fighters.

“This is the Ace. Avenger speaking,” he said.

“We don’t have much time before these enemies—” he paused, catching himself just before calling them ‘garbage’ over fleet-wide comms, “fighters, sorry—close the gap.”

Tiamat appeared in a miniaturized holographic form on his dashboard, slapping her forehead dramatically.

Raj ignored her and continued, voice steady:

“Here’s the plan. Divide into two wings—left and right.

Each wing will split into two sub-groups: Group A and B on the left, Group C and D on the right.

Each sub-group will have 57 fighters.

Group A leads, Group B supports; same for Groups C and D.”

“As for me—I’ll hit the center. I’ll punch a hole right through their formation. Force them to split—left or right—and that’s when you catch and crush them.”

“Understood?” Raj asked.

A chorus of confirmations came through, led by B7-X01, a fighter leader:

“Yes, Captain! It’s a pincer strategy. You break their front, we finish them as they scatter.”

“Good.” Raj nodded inside the cockpit.

“Now… fighters, move!”

Ahead of them, the Minotaur swarm approached—a blood-red sea of ships. Thousands of fighters converging, like a monstrous swarm of bees, just bigger and deadlier.

Raj took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he poured a touch of mana into Titanbane’s systems.

He formed a metaphysical link with the fighter—Titanbane wasn’t just his craft. It was his blade. His armor.

“Tiamat,” he said calmly.

“Launch Battle Mode.”

“On it, Captain!” she said cheerfully.

The cockpit displays shifted from calm blue to a dark crimson.

Runes and arcs across the Titanbane’s wings glowed blood-red, giving it a terrifying look from the outside.

Inside, dozens—no, hundreds—of targeting reticles flooded Raj’s HUD.

Each Minotaur fighter was tagged precisely for destruction.

“Battle Mode engaged,” Tiamat confirmed.

“Good. Engage Battle Assist. Prioritize any enemy locking onto our squadrons. Erase them.”

“Battle Assist active,” Tiamat responded, her voice sharper now.

Raj’s lips curled into a thin smile.

“It’s time.”

He poured more mana into a hidden system—one only he could activate.

Outside, Titanbane’s energy blades ignited, red light flaring along the fighter’s extended wing-edges. The blades crackled with concentrated power, turning the fighter into a flying weapon of death.

“Energy Blades active, Captain,” Tiamat said.

Raj angled Titanbane downward—and then pushed it forward.

The fighter surged ahead, a comet of death toward the Minotaur swarm.

The first enemy pilot, leading the Minotaur charge, barely saw the flash of red before his cockpit went dark—obliterated without even a chance to scream.

The next two fighters behind him suffered the same fate.

The Titanbane cut straight into the Minotaur lines.

Enemy shields shattered instantly under the energy blades. Armor melted. Ships broke apart in blinding explosions.

Raj barely needed to aim.

Titanbane’s turbo-lasers activated, rapid-firing precision shots, each one punching through an enemy ship with mechanical efficiency.

One, two, ten, twenty—fighters died within seconds.

Around him, the Void Fleet’s heavy fighters and light fighters moved in tight formations, hammering the scattered enemy wings, while Raj tore straight through their heart.

Inside the cockpit, Raj rolled the fighter upward, flipping the Titanbane end-over-end without losing speed.

He twisted into a sharp, 90-degree drift turn—something that should’ve been impossible in spaceflight—but Raj and Titanbane made it look effortless.

Another twenty fighters shredded in the wake of his passing.

Plasma torpedoes from the Titanbane’s secondary launchers exploded into clustered enemy wings, ripping whole squadrons apart.

Raj didn’t stop.

He weaved through the Minotaur fighters like a phantom—dodging fire, striking surgically, moving faster than their sensors could even lock on.

In under one minute, Raj had already destroyed over 500 enemy fighters.

Gone—like they had never even existed.

The battlefield was collapsing around them.

The Minotaur pilots, those who survived Raj’s onslaught, were starting to realize the truth.

At first, it was disbelief—then horror.

They could see the destruction happening around them, the lives of their comrades snuffed out in flashes of light, faster than they could even process.

And instead of fighting back with fury, as Minotaurs normally would… they broke.

Panic spread.

Minotaur fighters began scattering wildly, peeling off left and right, trying desperately to get away from Raj as if he were some kind of plague.

A red demon among the stars.

They shouted over comms, voices filled with terror:

“Run! Run! That’s the devil of their fleet!”

“Get away before he takes you too!”

They fled without any formation, without order, abandoning their objectives entirely.

All they wanted was distance from Raj Shekhar and the Titanbane.

⸻

Inside the cockpit, Raj watched the chaos unfold and muttered under his breath:

“Damn it… where the hell are you all going?

What did I even do?” he added, genuinely confused, sounding almost wronged.

Tiamat, the fighter’s AI, appeared on his HUD, completely speechless.

“You… you…” she stammered, unable to find the words.

If the fleeing Minotaur pilots could have heard Raj’s innocent-sounding complaint, they would’ve exploded with rage:

You slaughtered us like insects, and now you’re confused why we’re running? Of course, we’re running!

But it didn’t matter.

Whether they ran or fought, the outcome would be the same.

Raj’s strikes were instant death.

The Void Fleet’s other forces — the corvettes and frigates — were more methodical, slower, but just as inevitable.

⸻

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep