Moments later, a missile nearly twenty meters long and over ten meters wide, its body painted a stark white, streaked toward the descending space station. In the time it takes to blink, it struck dead center of the already shattered, falling structure.

At the point of impact, a blinding sphere of light bloomed and began to expand rapidly, consuming the entire space station in a single instant. Then, just as abruptly as it had expanded, the white sphere collapsed inward, followed by an enormous release of energy and a kinetic shockwave that made the surrounding space itself tremble and ripple, like water disturbed by a thrown stone.

When the vast energy and force unleashed by the antimatter annihilation missile finally faded, space returned to silence. The space station was completely gone—not a fragment remained. Even the other ships that had been destroyed left no debris behind, as if they had never existed at all, or had been erased down to the last particle.

Many aboard the ships of the First Void Fleet stared in stunned silence, their expressions a mix of awe, fear, and grim reassurance. The power of such a weapon was terrifying to behold—yet at the same time, it comforted them to know that it was their fleet that wielded it.

Back aboard the Resurgent-class destroyer, Jarvis stared at the empty stretch of space where the Minotaur station had once existed. He nodded in satisfaction before speaking.

“Begin preparations for planetary bombardment,” he ordered. “Target every military installation on the planet. Strike Minotaur official residences and administrative buildings as well. Bring them all down.”

He continued without hesitation. “Maintain full scans of the planet and its moons throughout the operation. We will not leave behind any hostile elements that could cause problems for us once we withdraw.”

His eyes narrowed.

“Now—go.”

Multiple voices echoed across the communications channel—men and women alike—each affirming his orders without hesitation.

Soon after, the weapon batteries of nearly forty ships began rotating toward the planet below. Several vessels broke formation, spreading out to encircle the world from multiple angles. Within minutes, they unleashed hell upon the Minotaur population.

Laser after laser fired in relentless succession, accompanied by devastating kinetic rounds.

Across Planet B-01, every city was engulfed in a storm of energy and metal. Barrages rained down from orbit, shaking entire metropolitan regions to their foundations. Buildings collapsed, streets vanished beneath fire and debris, and shockwaves rolled through urban centers without mercy.

Military installations suffered the worst of it. Bases in distant regions were subjected to continuous bombardment from orbital weapons, fighter strikes, and heavy munitions. Defensive positions were erased outright. Soldiers barely had time to react before they were torn apart, reduced to nothing as the assault pressed on without pause.

The planetary defense forces and regular military units barely had time to react. Many never even reached shelter before they were bombarded into oblivion.

Civilians fared no better—if anything, their suffering was worse. Across the planet, official residences and noble estates were embedded deep within major cities. Because they were designated targets, their destruction sent shockwaves through entire urban centers. Each strike triggered chain reactions of devastation, igniting widespread panic among the Minotaur population.

Streets filled with terrified civilians fleeing in every direction, rushing through roads and between buildings in desperate attempts to save their lives. Many were crushed beneath the debris of collapsing skyscrapers as towering structures gave way under repeated strikes. Others were trampled by their own people in the chaos, overwhelmed by the sheer mass of bodies surging through the streets.

The scenes were utterly chaotic. The loss of life was staggering. And this was not confined to a single region—similar devastation unfolded in every major city across Planet B-01.

Meanwhile, a handful of secret bases that had survived the initial bombardment activated whatever resources they had left. Scrambling in desperation, they launched their remaining jets into the sky, attempting to mount some form of defense against the enemy that had inflicted such catastrophic damage upon their world and society.

At the same time, deep beneath the surface, one particular underground facility—like many others—had suffered heavy damage. Flames tore through its upper levels as equipment detonated in violent explosions, turning corridors into scenes of chaos that mirrored the devastation aboveground.

Far below, on the deepest levels of the facility, thick energy shields had managed to hold against the bombardment. Behind them, dozens of Minotaurs stood in tense silence, staring at live projections of the destruction unfolding on the surface. Their faces were grim, their fists clenched tightly—whether from fear or rage, none could say.

One by one, their gazes turned toward a single Minotaur. In their eyes lingered gloom, desperation, and a fragile spark of hope.

That Minotaur was urgently speaking to several holographic figures, his voice strained with desperation.

“Elder Kazik, please,” he said, struggling to remain composed. “Send the fleet from the BOA star system immediately. We are under heavy attack. I’ve lost all contact with the fleet that was defending our system, and the enemy is carrying out a massacre as we speak. Governors, I beg you—send any support you can to my planet at once.”

The Minotaur identified as Elder Kazik frowned as he listened to the plea of his subordinate—one who was also his trusted confidant. After a brief pause, he finally spoke.

“Governor Brok, hold on as long as you can,” Kazik said gravely. “I will have a fleet dispatched to your star system immediately.”

He then turned his gaze toward the other planetary lords present.

“All of you—send whatever forces you can. Defend them. Do not let this world fall under the enemy.”

“As you command, Elder,” four of them replied at once.

One of the figures was about to continue speaking when his image suddenly began to distort. Before he could finish, a blinding flash of fire filled the hologram—and then the connection cut out entirely.

The faces of the remaining six turned grim in an instant.

“No… no!” Governor Brok exclaimed, his voice shaking. “How can this be? How can this be? It’s not just us under attack—Planet Lord Vizor and his world are being assaulted as well!”

Moments later, Planet Lord Kamis vanished from the communications feed in the same horrific manner. The sudden loss forced the Elder, the Governor, and the remaining two to step back in stunned disbelief.

“What… what’s happening?” the Elder Minotaur muttered, his voice low and unsteady.

As he watched, the final two figures disappeared from the comms as well—each one swallowed by fire and silence—leaving only him and Governor Brok staring at the empty projection.

Meanwhile, back aboard the Resurgent-class battleship, reports began to come in.

“Captain,” the officer said, “the planetary bombardment has been successful. For the most part, we have eliminated all military installations present on planet B-01. Many, if not all, Minotaur officials, along with noble family residences and major institutions, were specifically targeted and destroyed with a near–hundred percent strike rate.”

There was a brief pause.

“However, it has not yet been confirmed that every target was neutralized during the bombardment.”

The officer continued, more cautiously. “There are several installations built deep underground, beyond the reach of standard weaponry. Attempting to breach them with heavier fire would cause surface damage on a scale we cannot repair within the time frame we have.”

Jarving listened in silence. He appeared surprised, but not alarmed. After a moment, he nodded and motioned for the subordinate to continue.

“There is one more matter, sir. Deep beneath the capital city on B-01 lies another vast underground facility. Most of it has been destroyed, but a section of the structure remains intact, protected by heavy shielding. Despite sustained fire, we have been unable to breach it. Any further attacks risk catastrophic surface damage, so all strikes against the site are currently on hold.”

That revelation immediately caught Jarvis’s interest. He leaned forward slightly and asked, “Why is it so difficult for our weapons to bring that shield down? It shouldn’t be possible for the Minotaurs to possess technology capable of withstanding this level of firepower.”

The officer nodded. “That was our assumption as well, Captain. However, further analysis revealed that the city is built directly atop a mana vein—and not an ordinary one. The vein is highly abnormal. Numerous ancient runes have been carved and embedded throughout the area.”

He continued, bringing up his findings. “These runes siphon energy directly from the mana vein and channel it into a defensive array. That is what generated the shield and allowed the underground facility to survive the bombardment.”

As he spoke, the officer presented a series of high-definition images and scans. The level of detail was extraordinary.

Jarvis’s interest deepened as he studied them closely. His eyes narrowed. “Hmm… isn’t this a Dragon Protection Formation?”

He paused, then shook his head slightly. “No. Not exactly.”

His gaze shifted across the damaged patterns etched into the bedrock. “These runes are extremely old. Many segments show heavy degradation from time itself. This isn’t a complete formation.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep