“Now, let us focus on the enemy ahead.”

His voice faltered for a moment, though he quickly regained control over his fear. This time, however, the others who had been silently watching the exchange between the three of them noticed it.

The behavior of Vice Admiral Jarkon was far too obvious to go unnoticed. Although they did not know why he feared the unknown fleet, they could tell that he had some kind of history with these mysterious enemies. This only made them more curious about the force that had appeared out of nowhere, attacking from the rear and currently sweeping through the battle line.

“Exactly. We should focus there,” said one of the high-ranking officers, Rear Admiral Morgan.

However, it was clear that his interest lay elsewhere as well. He deliberately guided the conversation in that direction, hoping to uncover more information about the enemy. If they could understand what they were facing, it might help them formulate a plan, gain at least some control over the chaotic battlefield, and possibly reduce their losses.

“Indeed, Vice Admiral,” another minotaur with even greater aura than others spoke up. “I know we are being a bit curious, and please do not be displeased by my words. But we are genuinely concerned about what happened to you just now.”

“That strange behavior, the way you reacted… it was not fitting of your upbringing,” he said frankly. “What caught my attention was that this reaction only started after you clearly saw the enemy vessels.”

“And if I did not hear wrong,” he added, “you said something while you were not fully in control of yourself. Something along the lines of, ‘How could they be here?’ or ‘What the hell is with their numbers?’ If I understand correctly, you were referring to the size of their force.”

“Which brings me to another question I wish to ask,” the Minotaur said. “Have you, by any chance, encountered this still-unknown enemy before?”

As he spoke, his gaze briefly shifted toward Commander Zyth. The moment their eyes met, Zyth trembled slightly and quickly lowered his head, as if trying to hide his expression from the Minotaur, as though he feared that something about him had been noticed.

“If so,” the Minotaur continued, “then please tell us. Only then can we come up with some kind of plan.”

This Minotaur was a representative of the Minotaur defensive forces’ governing body, the Defense Senate. Although the Defense Senate fell under the direct authority of the Elder Council, it still retained a degree of control over the defensive forces. Because of this, its authority was not something that could be ignored.

The same was true in this case. Although Secretary Mimosa technically held only a secondary position within the defensive forces as of now, he wielded considerable power, even more than Commander Zyth.

Jarkon, who heard more than just the surface meaning behind Secretary Mimosa’s direct words, frowned in displeasure. The remarks about his behaviour and upbringing were an indirect attack on his family itself , whose authority was not something anyone could casually question.

‘Yes, his actions might have appeared exactly as Mimosa described’ ,he would accept that. But it could be argued that had been the result of his unstable condition and should not have been judged at face value. Especially not when one considered the immense weight of the Minotaur Clan standing behind him.

This bastard needs to be taught a lesson. How dare he question my upbringing like that?The situation itself was special. How dare he!

Jarkon fumed inwardly, rage threatening to burst out. His body trembled slightly, and his face shifted from pale to deep red with anger. Yet just as quickly as the fury appeared, it vanished.

He forced himself to calm down, thinking of the bigger picture. His focus had to be on the challenge ahead. He could not afford to be dragged into pointless disputes like this. More than anything, he did not want to face again what he had experienced during his last encounter with the Void Humans.

So he chose to push aside Secretary Mimosa’s disrespectful words and focus on the question itself, which was aligned with what needed to be discussed. Yes, it might cost him some face and bring a bit of embarrassment, but survival mattered far more. He knew where his priorities lay and what was truly important.

At that moment, he once again sensed the flames from the Domain of Fire that Grand Admiral Agnaros had created. They were still burning within a mysterious region deep inside his sea of consciousness, suppressing and controlling his inner demon while sharpening his focus at the same time.

This situation was by far the worst he had ever faced.

The Void Humans had effortlessly withstood the combined attacks of five tier-one powers without suffering any noticeable damage.

And although not much time had passed since the sudden attack that caught the allied guards off balance, it could not be denied that the Void Humans should be under immense pressure, even if they remained untouched for now.

At least, that was how Jarkon saw it.

To him, there was no such thing as unlimited power or absolute defense. Everything would eventually collapse once it crossed its inherent limits. Machines, in particular, were even more vulnerable to such breaking points. Logically speaking, no one should believe otherwise.

Yet even so, the Void Humans had not retreated under this level of assault. They were outnumbered, just like last time, and still they pressed forward.

Is history repeating itself? Jarkon wondered.

But he quickly rejected that thought entirely. Instead, he reasoned that if not now, then later, they would eventually reach their breaking point. They had to react sooner or later.

The question was… how soon would that “soon” be?

He had no answer.

And it was precisely this uncertainty that made Jarkon believe that even if the five tier-one powers used their hidden cards, or even if experts at the peak of the World-Building Realm personally entered the battlefield, they still would not be able to inflict any meaningful damage on the Void Humans—unless some kind of breakthrough was achieved.

But was such a breakthrough easy?

Heh.

Jarkon laughed inwardly. To him, the answer had been clear for a long time. Ever since his defeat—no, his near defeat—at the Rigid Star System.

Back then, the human general had claimed that everything they possessed was built purely from humanity’s own strength, developed from the ground up. That idea was simply impossible. Forget Jarkon, any intelligent species in the galaxy would laugh if they heard such a claim. It would be considered the joke of the century.

After all, throughout galactic history, the human race had never reached a level of power that made others take them seriously.

Well… there had been one exception.

Once, humans had risen to a scale of power that nearly terrified the tier-one powers and even shocked the super tier-one factions. They were stunned by how the Human Empire had grown so rapidly, becoming a supreme tier-two power in a mere five hundred years, despite having limited resources.

But that Human Empire had been destroyed, and the true downfall of the human race had begun there.

Even then, that story was little more than a rumor. And even if it was true, it had happened millions of years ago.

In the present era, humans were nothing more than slaves to some, entertainment to others, and playthings to many. That was the reality of the human race throughout the galaxy. This was something everyone knew—Jarkon included—and even humans themselves were painfully aware of it.

So how could Jarkon believe that humans could reach such a level of power by their own abilities alone? He was unwilling to accept it.

“No chance,” he muttered inwardly.

Still, one thing was undeniable. The Void Humans possessed technological might far superior even to that of the tier-one powers. When Jarkon had been defeated—or rather, pushed to the brink of defeat—he had acknowledged their strength, but he still believed they could not compare to a true tier-one power.

Now, witnessing the current state of the battle, he realized how wrong that belief had been.

However, he also knew the reason.

That overwhelming technological superiority did not originate from the Void Humans themselves. It came from their inheritance—technology left behind by the ancient energy-based race that once lived in the Holy Region. Of that, Jarkon was certain.

After all, the Minotaur Clan had inherited the legacy of the Feather Race themselves when they arrived in this remote corner of the galaxy. Because of that, he was convinced that this technological superiority did not belong to the humans. They were not its creators. They were merely fortunate enough to receive such an inheritance.

And of course, anything left behind by such beings would be superior… even if it was outdated.

Jarkon thought about this quietly. While it was true that technology always progressed, there were some technologies that already stood beyond the realm of further improvement.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep