[Warning: Energy nearing depletion. Please replenish as soon as possible.]

[Warning: Under strong electromagnetic field attack. Radar disabled.]

[System unstable. Please proceed to a maintenance point immediately.]

A barrage of error alerts popped up on the console. Song Jin ignored them all, moving with effortless grace even while surrounded by over a hundred enemy Wushi mechas.

The relentless clashing of metal echoed through the air. Severed limbs of the enemy mechas rained down onto the floor, leaving the entire hangar in absolute ruins.

As his energy levels bottomed out, the white mecha’s movements finally began to sluggishly slow down. Unable to dodge an incoming katana, Song Jin executed a sharp spin to shield his right arm, which held his own blade.

Bang!

The mecha shuddered violently as its left forearm was severed. In that split second of flying sparks, Song Jin sharply reversed his blade and lunged backward. The enemy pilot who had just landed the hit was still basking in momentary excitement when, in the next heartbeat, the blade pierced through his cockpit. He died instantly, before he could even register what had happened.

Song Jin flipped his mecha mid-air, kicked away an rushing attacker, and spun around to decapitate a third Wushi.

[Warning: Energy critically low!]

Yet, Song Jin showed absolutely no intention of backing down.

As the mecha’s responsiveness deteriorated, both of its legs were sliced off, and several deep gashes were carved across its torso. Yet, the worse the damage got, the more exhilarated he became.

The surrounding pilots found it utterly terrifying. Inside their own cockpits, they swore in sheer disbelief:

“How the hell is he still so aggressive in this state?!”

“His warning lights are flashing wildly. That mecha should be completely immobilized by now!”

“Wait… why am I suddenly sweating?!”

“Just die already!!”

[Energy will be completely depleted in five seconds.]

[Five… Four…]

Song Jin slashed down one final Wushi. Using the absolute last dregs of power, he adjusted the mecha’s angle, popped the emergency hatch, and leaped out.

A crowd of enemy mechas lunged forward, their blades instantly skewering the legless, armless torso of the white mecha.

Boom!

The white mecha’s outer plating violently swelled outward. Realizing what was happening, the enemy pilots panicked, trying to pull their weapons free to flee.

“It’s going to explode! Fall back!”

But under the continuous EMP bombardment, their public communication channels were completely dead. No one could hear the warning.

_

Like a flash of lightning, Li Xiao wove through the cluster of mechas, catching Song Jin mid-air right before he could hit the ground, and instantly rocketed outward.

“Have you lost your mind?!” Li Xiao growled. “What if I hadn’t made it in time?!”

Pulled safely into the cockpit of Li Xiao’s mecha, 09, Song Jin wrapped his arms around Li Xiao and laughed wildly. “But you did, didn’t you?”

The moment 09 shot out of the hangar doors, a deafening explosion erupted behind them. Rolling billows of thick black smoke and raging flames tore through the exit, throwing out a massive shockwave that hurled nearby mechas far into the distance. The hundred-plus Wushi trapped inside the hangar never stood a chance; they were blown to absolute smithereens.

With the public comms down, Li Xiao used 09’s external loudspeaker system to blast a voice broadcast across the battlefield: “Objective secured. Everyone, retreat immediately!”

The Yi Army soldiers had been growing increasingly anxious over the radio silence. Seeing the hangar explode had almost driven them to charge in blindly. Hearing Li Xiao’s voice suddenly echo through the skies made them look around in confusion—only to realize it wasn’t a radio transmission, but a massive external megaphone.

The entire mecha unit: “…”

As expected of the Second Highness. Simple, brutal, and highly effective.

By the time a massive wave of enemy reinforcements noticed the commotion and rushed over, the Yi Army had already vanished, following Li Xiao’s lead.

Song Jin had meticulously chosen a spot right next to the energy storage inlet to detonate his mecha. The blast triggered a massive chain reaction throughout the enemy flagship’s power core. The entire dreadnought shuddered violently as the explosions tore through more than half of its hangars.

As the Yi Army’s squad leader retreated, he looked back at the billowing flames and felt a cold shiver run down his spine. With Song Jin possessing such terrifying destructive habits… is the Second Highness really safe from being henpecked in the future?

_

Inside the enemy flagship’s command center, the technical crew was working so hard they were practically foaming at the mouth.

Initially, when they detected the gap between the enemy’s electromagnetic cannon fire widening, they thought the opposition was finally running out of steam. They had prepared everything to launch a massive counterattack the moment the firing ceased.

Instead, they were greeted by a ceaseless, unending EMP carpet-bombing!

A middle-aged Alpha slammed his hand down. “What’s the status?! Is there really nothing we can do?!”

“With the equipment we currently have…” a technician stammered, sweating profusely, “…we can only wait until their bombardment stops.”

“Call for immediate reinforcements from above!” the Alpha roared.

“We can’t,” the technician replied helplessly. “They blew up all of our external communication satellites the second they arrived.”

The Alpha’s voice pitched higher: “Then contact the local planetary garrison! Order them to mobilize!”

Beside him, a middle-aged Beta snarled with a vicious expression, “Yes! We’ve crossed the point of no return. If we fail here, the garrison won’t survive the fallout either!”

Wiping the sweat from his forehead, the technician looked incredibly conflicted. “The internal communication network has completely collapsed as well. Even if we could reach them, they wouldn’t be able to do much under an electromagnetic bombardment of this intensity.”

“Then what the hell do you suggest we do?!” the Beta bellowed.

“Either retreat, or wait it out.”

The middle-aged Alpha fell into deep thought before narrowing his eyes. “Expand the combat zone to draw the Yi Army away, then concentrate our forces to assault the arena base directly. If we can’t bomb them, we’ll just slaughter every single person on the ground!”

“Li Ji has likely already been rescued by the Yi Army!” the Beta countered.

“This is our only option! Unless you have a better idea?!” the Alpha snapped. If their own heavy weaponry was disabled, the Yi Army was in the same boat. It would just be a matter of hunting down Li Ji manually.

The technician added, “In that case, we need to send physical messengers to the front lines to notify the combat units one by one, since the public channels are dead. And… just so you know, we currently have zero visibility on how the frontline battle is going. We can only monitor it using optical telescopes.”

The two middle-aged commanders: “…”

Why even bother anymore? Just let the universe burn.

_

Above the arena base, Li Xiao guided his mecha into the Yi Army’s supply ship, bringing Song Jin along.

Stepping into the hangar, they saw numerous damaged white mechas lined up in the maintenance zone. The academy students had been restricted to a designated resting area.

Li Xiao powered down and walked over to them with Song Jin.

The students had been locked in a heated debate, actively analyzing their recent clash. The moment they saw Li Xiao approach, they instinctively stood up straight, watching the duo close the distance.

“Is everyone alright?” Li Xiao scanned the crowd. Students from various military academies were present, including Qian Can and Gao Jia.

“We’re fine,” Gao Jia reported. “Once our mechas sustained too much damage, we were ordered back here.”

Qian Can sprinted up to them, his face pale. “Are you two okay? You scared the life out of me!”

Song Jin’s tone remained perfectly flat. “What could possibly happen? It was just a minor skirmish.”

Qian Can: “…”

Fine, you’re the boss. Whatever you say goes.

After ensuring they were unharmed, Li Xiao flagged down a passing soldier. “Prepare two operational mechas for us.”

The soldier recognized the Second Highness and offered a respectful salute, though he looked deeply conflicted. “Your Highness, I don’t have the authority to authorize that. It requires approval from the command chain.”

With communications entirely down, there was no way to relay the request up the ladder.

Li Xiao communicated mentally: [09, is there any way to restore short-range communications?]

09 chimed in: [I can’t restore the main network, but I can act as a localized signal tower to counteract the EMP interference from 07, establishing a local network.]

Li Xiao: [Do it. Do you have enough energy?]

09 puffed out its virtual chest: [More than enough! I managed to secretly siphoned a massive gulp of energy from their storage bay earlier. My tanks are completely full.]

Li Xiao: “…”

Look at you being all clever.

09: [Am I awesome or what?]

Li Xiao kept a straight face: [Yes, you are the most awesome in the world.]

Beside him, Song Jin knitted his brows and glared at Li Xiao. Sensing the shift in the feline-like youth’s mood, Li Xiao quickly amended his mental thought: [And you are the most awesome in the universe.]

Song Jin: “…”

So half-hearted. How superficial.

Hearing Li Xiao request mechas, the surrounding students instantly realized what he intended to do. They began exchanging eager, restless glances. They weren’t part of the official military, meaning they didn’t have spare mechas allocated to them. Once their units were broken, their time on the battlefield was effectively over.

Zhang Zhi from Longteng Academy took a brave step forward. “Your Highness, I want to rejoin the fight too.”

His declaration immediately triggered a chain reaction among the other students.

“Me too!”

“Count me in!”

Zhang Zhi quickly added, “We’ve finally gotten into the rhythm of actual combat, and we now know exactly what the enemy’s skill level is. If you give us another chance, we can definitely be of use!”

While waiting for 09 to establish the localized network, Song Jin massaged his aching wrists, a faint, amused smile playing on his lips. “Are you all really that eager to die?”

Li Xiao shot him a sidelong glance. Look who’s talking. You’re the most reckless, death-defying one here.

Song Jin glared right back, his eyes flashing dangerously: You want to go a round?

Li Xiao immediately backed down. This kitten is getting wilder, crazier, and fiercer by the day.

The students continued to plead eagerly.

“We were just too terrified at the start to move properly, but the enemy really isn’t anything special!”

“We just reviewed our mistakes. We won’t make those rookie blunders again!”

“I’m in peak condition right now. I can perform at 200%!”

“Please, Your Highness, speak to the commanders on our behalf!”

09 interrupted: [Localized network established.]

Li Xiao opened his terminal and dialed Yi Lian directly. Seeing him fall silent, the students held their breath, their hearts rising to their throats in agonizing suspense.

The call connected, and Yi Lian’s surprised voice came through. “Your Highness? I thought the communication array was completely fried?”

“It’s just a localized bridge. Internal military communications within this sector are functional,” Li Xiao replied smoothly. “Have your men prepare two mechas for us.”

“Understood! I’ll issue the order immediately.”

Li Xiao glanced at the anxious students standing before him before speaking calmly into the terminal. “A significant number of academy students are currently resting in the supply ships due to mecha damage. Since this is a rare operational learning experience, arrange for them to return to the front lines.”

The students’ eyes lit up instantly. There’s hope!

Yi Lian hesitated on the other end. “Your Highness, they are still just students after all. If they deploy in standard military mechas and something happens, I cannot bear the liability.”

Li Xiao thought for a moment. “Assign them as co-pilots.”

“Understood. I will make the arrangements.”

The students’ emotions had gone through a wild roller coaster. To be allowed onto the absolute front lines as a co-pilot was an invaluable, unprecedented opportunity for academy students!

As the hangar erupted into joyful cheers, Li Xiao raised a hand to silence them. “Remember exactly why you are stepping onto the battlefield today.”

Saying this, Li Xiao’s gaze shifted toward a silent, brooding figure standing in the far corner—Liu Jie. “Losing your sense of self is far more terrifying than being incompetent.”

Meeting Li Xiao’s piercing eyes, Liu Jie hurriedly looked away, his heart hammering against his ribs.

Even long after Li Xiao and Song Jin had departed, those words continued to echo relentlessly in his mind. Given his family’s political stance, he had absolutely no reason to risk his life alongside these students. Yet, in the heat of the moment, his mind had gone completely blank to politics; his only thought had been to drive back the invaders.

Perhaps it was just a temporary rush of blood to the head. But being able to cast aside his family’s suffocating expectations and act solely on his own terms… felt incredibly liberating.

Standing in the staging area, Li Xiao gently took hold of Song Jin’s hands, softly massaging his stiff muscles. “No more reckless stunts like that. Promise me.”

Song Jin willingly offered his other hand as well, offering a smooth smile. “Fine.”

Li Xiao sighed. You sure answer quickly, but execution is another story.

“I’m fully intending to grow into a pair of old men with you,” Li Xiao murmured softly.

Song Jin fought hard to suppress the upward curve of his lips. “You’re already an old man.”

Li Xiao replied with effortless composure, “My twilight years happen to be exceptionally long. You’ll catch up eventually.”

Song Jin: “…”

_

Back in the main observation lounge, panic had completely taken over. The remaining politicians were loudly demanding to be evacuated.

An official belonging to the Meng faction slammed his fist onto a table, shouting angrily, “No wonder His Majesty slipped away so early! He knew the enemy was coming and intentionally abandoned us to save his own skin!”

Several other corrupt officials immediately chimed in.

“Is this the true face of the Royal Family’s responsibility? How utterly disappointing!”

“I have served the empire faithfully for decades, working like a dog for the throne, only to be cast aside like trash when danger strikes!”

“It seems even the Emperor knows this battle is unwinnable. We’re all meant to die here!”

The neutral officials, completely ignorant of the underlying conspiracy, began to waver, doubt creeping into their minds. The Emperor leaves without a word, and an immediate enemy invasion follows? The timing was far too precise to be a coincidence.

Old Liu and Daxi stepped back into the grand hall just in time to catch the tail end of the treasonous rhetoric. Old Liu’s gaze swept across the room, instantly spotting several floating micro-cameras hovering discreetly in the air.

They’re trying to record footage to smear the Royal Family later.

Old Liu originally intended to call for the Yi family guards, but after a brief second thought, he turned to Daxi. “Confiscate all of their cameras and communication terminals. Every single one.”

Daxi nodded instantly. Dealing with a bunch of out-of-shape, elderly bureaucrats was infinitely easier than handling trained assassins.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” The loudest Meng-faction official pointed a trembling finger at Old Liu, shrieking, “You’re just a Chief of Staff! You have absolutely no authority to do this! Are you trying to stage a rebellion?!”

Old Liu turned on his heel, his voice booming across the massive hall with absolute, chilling authority: “Who exactly is the one trying to stage a rebellion here?”

The politicians present were all seasoned veterans of court intrigue. Catching the dangerous shift in Old Liu’s tone and demeanor, they quickly put two and two together regarding the true origin of this sudden attack. One by one, they silently unclipped their personal terminals and handed them over to Daxi.

If they resisted now, they risked being branded as co-conspirators of the Meng family by the Crown. Whether they survived the airspace battle or not, their political and physical lives would be forfeit.

Seeing the atmosphere shift, the loud official panicked, turning to bolt toward the exit in a desperate bid to escape. Before he could even clear the threshold, Daxi moved like a shadow, twisting the man’s arms behind his back and pinning him firmly to the floor.

Old Liu stood like a sentry at the exit. “The military is currently neutralizing the hostile forces. Please remain calm, return to your seats, and wait patiently for the official evacuation notice.”

Another Meng-aligned official sneered nervously, “Will they even come for us?”

Old Liu shot him a cold look. “Even if they don’t care about saving you, they will certainly come to save me.”

The blatant implication that he possessed zero worth hit the official like a physical blow. His face turned an ugly shade of purple as he slumped back into his seat.

Seeing Old Liu covered in minor injuries, the medical personnel rushed over with their first-aid kits. Old Liu remained entirely silent, his expression blank and exhausted.

Suddenly, his terminal vibrated. Seeing Vice Captain Zhou’s ID, he answered instantly.

“Finally through,” Zhou’s relieved voice crackled weakly. “His Majesty is perfectly safe. The Second Highness has successfully secured him. Keep a tight lid on that observation deck—do not let a single one of those rats slip away!”

Old Liu’s spirits lifted instantly, his breathing turning shallow with relief. “Is that true?!”

“Why would I lie to you about—”

The transmission abruptly cut out as the localized network shifted, but the vital message had been successfully delivered.

Hanging up, Old Liu suppressed the overwhelming wave of emotion rushing through him. He gestured to Daxi, drawing him close. “What else did the Second Highness instruct you to do?”

Daxi looked at him intently. “Do you trust me?”

Old Liu met his gaze directly. “I trust the Second Highness. You were once a personal attendant by his side. If he places his faith in you, then I will gladly do the same.”

Daxi leaned in, whispering a few concise instructions into his ear.

Old Liu’s expression hardened into one of absolute gravity. “Understood. I will provide full cooperation.”

Far outside the boundaries of the arena base, Wei Feng was pushing the engine of his modified hovercar to its absolute limits, tearing northward. Spotting a massive planetary garrison blockade cutting off the upcoming intersection, he slammed on the brakes, pulled a violent drift, and veered down a side alley.

Yet, no matter how many detours he took, every major exit route was locked down tight. The sheer volume of garrison troops patrolled the streets and patrolled the skies was increasing exponentially by the minute.

In the backseat, Yan Qing finished bandaging Li Ji’s wounds and looked out the reinforced window. “They’re losing their patience.”

The Yi Army was steadily gaining the upper hand in orbit, and the invading force was failing to breach the arena base. The local garrison commanders were panicking. They were throwing down a net to choke off any possible escape route. If pushed into a corner, they would likely openly turn their weapons against the Yi Army to cover their treason.

Things had already escalated to a point where the garrison had no bridge left to retreat across.

“Heads up,” Yan Qing noted calmly. “We have company.”

Wei Feng glanced at the rearview mirror, spotting two standard military mechas closing in fast. “Hold onto your seats.”

Li Ji had assumed that after enduring 09’s chaotic, acrobatic flight maneuvers earlier, no ground vehicle could possibly faze him. The very next second, his face slammed hard into the back of the front passenger seat. If Yan Qing hadn’t quickly reached out to cushion him, the Emperor’s forehead would have sustained a nasty second concussion.

“…” Gripping the overhead handle with a pale face, Li Ji growled, “Do you even know how to drive?!”

Wei Feng casually adjusted the unlit cigarette dangling from his lips. “When you’re running for your life, Your Majesty, don’t be so picky about luxury service. Besides, I’m not a professional chauffeur.”

Li Ji frowned deeply. “Then what exactly is your profession? How do you know Xiao-xiao, and how many years have you known him?”

“My dear Emperor, are you running a background check right now?” Wei Feng monitored the closing mechas, his tone lazily amused. “As long as the price is right, I can even report my physical measurements to you.”

Li Ji’s expression soured further.

Yan Qing smoothly interjected, “120, 64, 300. Does anyone really need to pay to figure out your proportions?”

Wei Feng: “…”

This Omega looks so proper and elegant, yet he talks more nonsense than I do.

A hip measurement of 300? What does he think I have, a fifty-pound tumor growing out of my backside?

The modified hovercar’s top speed was no match for military-grade mechas, but it possessed a massive advantage in sheer agility and compact size.

Wei Feng’s driving style matched his personality perfectly—wild, erratic, and utterly violent. After executing several extreme, tire-shredding drifts, he suddenly aimed the car straight toward the mid-level parking deck of a skyscraper, soaring right through the opening.

The pursuing mechas were trailing too closely and aggressively. Following blindly, the lead pilot realized too late that the entrance clearance was barely five meters high.

Crunch!

A deafening metallic crash echoed out. The mecha’s upper torso jammed violently into the concrete ceiling, its frame warping awkwardly under the sudden impact. The pilot revved the thrusters repeatedly, but the pinned joints couldn’t find any leverage. They were completely stuck.

Inside the hovercar, Li Ji noted the situation immediately and tapped Wei Feng’s shoulder. “Stop the car. We’re hijacking that mecha.”

Wei Feng blinked, realizing it was an excellent idea. He quickly steered the vehicle into a blind spot and parked. “You two stay here.”

With his firearm drawn and a tactical blade in hand, Wei Feng slipped out of the vehicle.

Inside the trapped cockpit, the garrison pilot was cursing up a storm. He couldn’t back out, and the dead public frequencies meant he couldn’t call for recovery units. Left with no choice, he popped the hatch manually, intending to proceed on foot to summon nearby patrols.

The moment he stepped out of the cockpit, he froze.

A tall Alpha clad in a black leather jacket was leaning against the concrete pillar, lazily chewing on a cigarette. The barrel of a heavy pistol was pointed squarely between the pilot’s eyes.

The pilot’s pupils contracted. “Who the hell are you?! How did you get up here?!”

“You don’t even recognize your own father?” Wei Feng smirked.

The pilot’s eyes darted downward. He suddenly ducked beneath the line of fire, his hand flying toward the sidearm strapped to his waist. Before his fingers could even graze the holster, Wei Feng stepped in, grabbed his arm with a brutal twist, and cleanly snapped his neck.

Wei Feng dragged the limp body out of the way. With this pathetic level of skill, he wasn’t even worth wasting a fifty-credit bullet on.

A minute later, the trio gathered inside the cramped cockpit. Li Ji instinctively moved toward the primary pilot seat, only to find Wei Feng already settling himself comfortably into it.

“You know how to pilot a mecha?” Li Ji asked skeptically.

Wei Feng casually scanned the complex array of switches and monitors. “It’s just a giant toy. How hard can it be?” Saying this, he reached out, fully intending to mash every single button to see what they did.

Li Ji’s eyebrows twitched violently. Seeing another garrison patrol unit flying across the distant skyline, he knew any erratic, unnatural movements would instantly blow their cover. Suppressing his irritation, he firmly grabbed Wei Feng’s shoulder, mapping out the primary thruster functions, safety overrides, and joystick mechanics in rapid succession.

Wei Feng nodded sagely. “Okk, got it. It’s basically just a glorified excavator.”

Li Ji’s face remained dark. “Follow my instructions. First, back us out of this clearance beam.”

One was reckless enough to teach, and the other was wild enough to learn.

While the original pilot had jammed the machine completely, Wei Feng executed Li Ji’s precise technical inputs and managed to violently wrench the mecha free from the concrete gap in a single, fluid motion.

Steering the military unit onto the main aerial lanes, the heavy checkpoints below completely ignored them.

Inside the cockpit, a heavy, suffocating silence descended.

Wei Feng could feel two intense, burning gazes boring into the back of his head from both sides. Unable to take it anymore, he grumbled, “What are you two staring at me for? You’re acting like a pair of vengeful spirits. It’s making me forget how to drive this damn thing.”

Yan Qing quietly stared at the side profile of the rough Alpha. The memory of the fleeting glimpse he had caught back on planet S80 flashed vividly in his mind.

As expected, it wasn’t an illusion. This man had definitely been present back then.