Major General Qi Sen had just issued the order to dispatch reinforcements to East District 4 when his adjutant rushed in to report.

“What did you say?!” Qi Sen thought he had misheard. “Who authorized that order?!”

The adjutant kept his head bowed. “An emergency directive from the Royal Family, sir.”

Qi Sen’s expression instantly collapsed as he recalled his recent video call with Li Xiao. Public opinion online had spiraled completely out of control, making a move from the Royal Family inevitable. However, he hadn’t expected them to act this quickly, or this aggressively.

The adjutant spoke up cautiously, “Conventionally, to appease the public, the Royal Family would assign nearby legions to assist—which would mean our own people. It’s an easy way to manipulate supply and military budgets; a single expedition usually brings in a massive windfall. The more legions deployed, the higher the revenue. But this time, the Royal Family went completely against protocol. Instead of sending reinforcements, they transferred the operational command of the Fifth Legion directly to Military Headquarters.”

Military Headquarters wasn’t just comprised of their allies. If Headquarters discovered that the Fifth Legion possessed ample forces but had intentionally delayed the rescue, the consequences would be catastrophic for them.

Qi Sen immediately contacted his father, Qi Shoude. “Father, the political wind is shifting against us!”

On the screen, Qi Shoude sat calmly in his office, slowly rolling a string of Buddhist beads through his fingers. “The one at the top is locking horns with Old Meng. Stand your ground, do not move, and focus entirely on resolving that matter first.”

Qi Sen grew anxious. “Even if that matter is resolved, what about my Fifth Legion? Handing over command means the Yi family will inevitably catch us slipping!”

“Since things have already escalated to this point, you must keep your composure. Do not lose the greater picture over trivial gains.” Qi Shoude looked at him sternly. “To accomplish great things, you cannot just stare at the pennies right in front of you.”

Seeing Qi Sen’s terrible expression, Qi Shoude set his beads down and picked up his teacup. “Rest assured. As long as you handle that matter successfully, I will help you turn the tables.”

With his father putting it that way, Qi Sen could only swallow his grievances, no matter how bitter.

Military Headquarters Command Center.

Upon receiving the notice, Yi Yongning arrived at the Military Headquarters Combat Command Center early in the morning. He took charge immediately, linking up with the Fifth Legion to force the public disclosure of all frontline deployment and operational data.

By the time Meng Jian arrived, Yi Yongning was already sorting through and analyzing the data with the assistance of two aides.

“So enthusiastic?” Meng Jian sat down in the seat next to him. “Neglecting your own house just to meddle in someone else’s business.”

“What do you mean, ‘own house’ and ‘someone else’s house’?” Yi Yongning didn’t even look up from his documents. “The entire Danse Empire belongs to one family. I haven’t the slightest clue whose house you are referring to.”

Meng Jian took a file from his assistant. “I never realized you were so silver-tongued. Was all that honesty from your youth just an act?”

Yi Yongning countered smoothly, “And you’ve been aggressively ambitious since your youth.”

As the two generals traded verbal barbs, Gao Wanxin rushed into the room sporting heavy dark circles under his eyes. He frantically tried to smooth down his messy, upturned hair. “What the hell is the Fifth Legion playing at? I’m already buried in work, and now they want me to concurrently serve as their legion commander? Am I even going to live long enough to collect my pension?”

“Still worrying about your meager pension?” Yi Yongning pulled out the chair next to him. “Isn’t earning a high salary enough for you?”

Gao Wanxin sat down, pulled a pork bun out of his pocket, and complained as he chewed, “I’m just afraid I’ll have the life to earn it but not to spend it.”

Yi Yongning added pointedly, “If certain people could just stop playing underhanded political games like you, we old-timers would have retired to the second line to enjoy our peaceful days long ago.”

Meng Jian snapped, “You can retire whenever you want. Who’s stopping you?”

Yi Yongning smirked. “I’m still responsible for the security of the whole Ascendant Constellation. How could I possibly just walk away?”

The mention of the Ascendant Constellation struck a nerve, leaving Meng Jian too irritated to reply.

Out in the hallway, Qi Shoude swiped his terminal to enter the command center. The moment he stepped inside, he heard Yi Yongning slam a file onto the desk, his tone incredibly harsh.

“What kind of dogshit formation is this?! Deploying troops like this, even ten legions wouldn’t be enough to handle the situation! I truly wonder how Qi Sen managed to graduate from the military academy!”

Gao Wanxin chimed in, “Is that brat playing a joke? He’s literally multiplying my workload for nothing!”

Yi Yongning laughed. “Old Gao, it’s rare to hear a fair word out of your mouth.”

Gao Wanxin grumbled, “If it weren’t for that rotten brat, I could have slept an extra hour!”

The surrounding military officers were quietly listening to the upper admirals’ heated discussion. Hearing footsteps, they turned to see Qi Shoude walking in with a rigid expression. Without a word, he took his seat at his designated command console.

The atmosphere instantly reverted to its usual suffocating tension.

Planet S80, East District 4.

Through the surveillance footage transmitted back by AI 09, Li Xiao observed the operational movements of the newly assigned command.

Simultaneously, a message arrived on his backup terminal from an unfamiliar, encrypted frequency:

His Majesty has ordered Military Headquarters to take over the operational command of the Fifth Legion.

Because AI 07 and AI 09 were interconnected, the message pop-up on 09’s interface was automatically mirrored onto Song Jin’s side.

“Did your brother use to handle things this way?” Song Jin propped his chin in his hand, casually sipping a nutrient solution. “If he could be this unyielding, things shouldn’t have degenerated to this point in the first place.”

Externally, dispatching resources to fully secure the basic survival needs of the victims to win over public goodwill.

Internally, strictly controlling the deployed military forces, increasing oversight, and using rival factions to check and balance the situation.

The strategy was flawless.

Li Xiao was also somewhat surprised. His older brother’s recent actions gave him the distinct impression of a caged bird trying to break free from its shackles. Perhaps it wasn’t that his brother hadn’t wanted to act before, but rather that he lacked the necessary conditions to risk a full confrontation.

However, grasping the decentralized authority of the Ascendant Constellation and reclaiming the people’s hearts for the Royal Family was only the first step. Dismantling the deeply rooted influence of the Meng family would not be easy. A brutal war of attrition lay ahead, and a single misstep could lead to a bottomless abyss.

Still, it was a promising start.

Song Jin took only a couple of sips before setting the nutrient solution aside in disgust. Li Xiao naturally swapped it out, handing Song Jin his own pack of beef jerky while taking the leftover nutrient solution for himself.

Watching Li Xiao casually drink from the packet he had just used while browsing the group messages, Song Jin couldn’t help but look at him twice. This kid is getting far too comfortable with these kinds of gestures.

“Hey, Old Man.”

Hearing the nickname, Li Xiao looked up. “What’s wrong?”

Seeing Song Jin beckon him over, a confused Li Xiao leaned forward. In the next instant, a hand reached across and boldly cop-a-feel of his chest.

Song Jin squeezed unashamedly, wearing a mischievous smirk. “Not bad. Nice and firm.”

Li Xiao: “…”

Li Xiao fired back calmly, “Yours feels better. After all, you aren’t wearing anything underneath.”

Song Jin: “…”

Jiang Hao, Qian Can, and Qin Le sitting in the backseat: “…”

You two certainly know how to play.

Around 8:00 AM, the density of the Crane Eagles in the sky noticeably thinned. Li Xiao started the transport vehicle to head to the designated coordinates to rendezvous with the DT781 rescue unit.

The commanding officer was a Beta Second Lieutenant surnamed Sun. Upon seeing them, he wasted no time on pleasantries and immediately called everyone for a briefing.

“We just received orders from above. All residents in East District 4 must be evacuated. Everyone will be assigned specific sectors according to their terminals. Ensure every single civilian is safely boarded onto the rescue starships!”

“Understood!” the soldiers roared.

Li Xiao’s squad of five was assigned to Team 116 to clear the CW Zone. Before setting out, each person was equipped with a laser rifle and thirty rounds of ammunition. Team 116 consisted of thirty people in total, including five sophomore military academy students.

The team leader, Sergeant First Class Zhou, reorganized the sub-teams. Looking at Li Xiao and his friends, he said, “You brought your own logistics transport vehicle, right? Vehicles are tight right now, so keep using it. You’ll likely be reassigned back to the logistics unit tomorrow anyway, so there’s no need to swap.”

Qin Le asked, “Are the five of us staying together as one unit?”

“I’ll have someone guide you. Don’t worry.” Sergeant Zhou waved them forward and marched out. “Move out!”

The CW Zone contained two large residential complexes and two emergency shelters. Two large military transport hover-cars flew toward the shelters to collect people, while the remaining twenty personnel split into two teams to head toward the residential complexes.

Two of the sophomore students in the vehicle were openly displeased about having freshmen in their squad, whispering to each other as they boarded.

“First-years don’t know anything. Can they even help?”

“Our team practically only has five effective members.”

Li Xiao acted as if he hadn’t heard a word. He deftly maneuvered the logistics transport vehicle right behind the lead car. In his earpiece, AI 09 gave a real-time update:

[The Crane Eagles have summoned a significant number of avian and small mutant beasts. The combat front has expanded to the southern part of District 4.]

Just as the report finished, a cluster of giant mutant spiders suddenly dropped from a high-rise directly onto the roof of the lead vehicle. The sudden weight caused the lead car to tilt violently to one side, nearly crashing into the exterior wall of a nearby skyscraper.

“That’s a massive cluster!” Qian Can bared his teeth. “Why are they all stuck together like that?”

Li Xiao shifted the control stick, steering the vehicle fluidly to dodge the incoming birds and spiders. “They are engaging in an illegal mass gathering.”

Qian Can, Jiang Hao, and Qin Le: “…”

Bizarrely, we understood that instantly.

Song Jin’s attention had been fixed on a distant swarm of mutant ants. Hearing this, he asked casually, “What illegal gathering?”

Li Xiao glanced at him through the rearview mirror. “Kids don’t need to know.”

Song Jin: “…”

“The car ahead is going to flip!” Jiang Hao yelled, pressing his face against the window to watch the unfolding disaster.

The tangled mass of spiders hung off the side of the lead vehicle like a heavy sandbag, throwing off its automated stabilization system. The driver clearly lacked sufficient field experience; panic threw off their coordination, making it impossible to level the vehicle.

Panicked voices flooded the public comms channel from the lead car:

“Tilt left to shake them off!”

“No! Tilting left will completely compromise our center of gravity and cause us to flip!”

“Steady the wheel! Accelerate to throw them off!”

“There are too many obstacles ahead, we can’t accelerate!”

Unable to listen to the chaos any longer, Li Xiao rolled down his window. Reaching out, he expertly fired a grappling launcher, the high-tensile wire instantly binding around the legs of the lowest spider in the cluster.

“Watch out!” Qian Can shrieked.

The moment Li Xiao extended his arm outside, a Crane Eagle swooped down at blinding speed. Its razor-sharp beak aimed straight for Li Xiao’s arm, the violent buffeting of its wings causing their own vehicle to shudder.

In that split second, Song Jin raised his rifle, aiming right past Li Xiao’s face, and pulled the trigger.

BANG!

The bullet grazed past Li Xiao’s vision, striking the Crane Eagle dead center in the head. The beast’s skull exploded in a burst of mist, and it plummeted backward into the abyss.

Without missing a beat, Li Xiao secured the grappling line to the window mount and slammed the accelerator. His transport vehicle soared past the left side of the lead car, cleanly ripping the massive cluster of spiders off the roof before releasing the cable.

The freed lead vehicle shuddered as the driver slammed the brakes, their palms slick with sweat.

Noticing the logistics transport vehicle gliding smoothly ahead of them, the Beta corporal in the passenger seat gasped. He hurriedly pulled up the external playback logs. “It was the first-year draftees who just saved us!”

“No way, right?” A Beta soldier in the backseat leaned forward to look. “That was incredibly smooth! I wouldn’t even dare attempt a stunt like that!”

Hooking a weight like that cluster of spiders required pinpoint accuracy. A single miscalculation in speed or release timing would have dragged their own vehicle down into a fatal crash. To pull it off while navigating a sky filled with aggressive avian beasts required an absurd level of mastery.

How did a freshman handle a vehicle with such terrifying ease?

“It had to be a fluke,” the driver muttered, his heart still pounding, unwilling to admit his own incompetence.

“Watch out ahead!” one of the sophomores screamed.

Another string of spiders swung down from a skyscraper using their webbing, blocking the path entirely, while seven or eight Crane Eagles closed in from the flank. The route was completely choked.

Just before impact, the logistics vehicle suddenly pivoted, tilting sharply to a sharp angle. It traced a flawless, sweeping ‘C’ arc through the sky, effortlessly weaving through the tight gap between the avian swarm and the falling spiders.

The five people in the trailing car fell into dead silence.

Are they flying a logistics truck or a fighter jet?!

The two sophomores were completely dumbfounded. Incredible! As expected of the Second Prince.

The Beta corporal in the passenger seat turned to the sophomores. “Are the freshmen these days really this talented? It makes us veterans look like absolute jokes.”

One of the sophomores rubbed his neck awkwardly. “In the entire first-year class… they are probably the only ones who can pull off this kind of stunt.”

Truthfully, even the third-years couldn’t demonstrate this level of control in an actual combat scenario. It was easy to perform tricks during simulated training, but most froze when real blood and death were on the line.

The vehicles initially intended to land in front of the residential complex’s underground garage, but the area was already crawling with mutant ants.

The Beta corporal tossed a few flash-bangs to clear a path. The deafening explosions made Li Xiao frown, though fortunately, AI 09 applied directional noise-cancelling to keep the sound within a tolerable range.

Li Xiao and his squad dismounted, following the corporal into the garage. Along the way, the three regular soldiers kept stealing glances at Li Xiao, their postures subconsciously shifting to become far more respectful.

The residents had been hiding in terror all night. When the garage doors groaned open, screams echoed through the dark space until they recognized the military uniforms.

“The emergency exit is full of bugs! We can’t hold them back much longer!” several middle-aged men shouted, their bodies thrown against a heavily warped metal door that was groaning under the pressure of a swarm of mutant ants.

The corporal instinctively reached for another flash-bang. However, the moment the door cracked open, a barbed appendage thrust through the gap, slicing his arm. He hissed in pain, his grip slipping, and the heavy door burst completely inward.

“Aaaaah!” The civilians scrambled back in a panic.

The three corporals quickly drew their laser rifles to open fire, but several flying mutant ants still bypassed them, buzzing aggressively toward the crowd.

A sophomore student aimed frantically, but nerves got the better of him, causing both of his shots to miss completely. From the corner of his eye, he saw a tall, golden-haired youth calmly raise a rifle. With a single, fluid shot, the youth blew the head clean off a flying ant, sending its carcass crashing harmlessly onto a parked vehicle.

The student stared open-mouthed, realized that this striking sharpshooter was none other than the Second Prince’s partner, Song Jin.

What a beautiful shot!

Meanwhile, Qin Le, Jiang Hao, and Qian Can moved swiftly through the perimeter, systematically neutralizing any insect that managed to break past the line.

“Everyone else, stop staring and move out in an orderly fashion. Follow me,” Li Xiao called out to the crowd, waving them toward the transport vehicles.

Recognizing the Second Prince, the civilians instantly found their anchors. They snapped out of their panic and hurried to follow his directions. Song Jin and the others flanked the line, keeping a vigilant eye out for threats. The entire evacuation proceeded with absolute efficiency, leaving the two remaining sophomores standing frozen, entirely useless.

Why does rescue work look so easy when it’s in their hands?

The rescue starships were distributed in a grid pattern across the sector, taking in refugees brought back by the ground transports. It took two round trips between the large and small transport vehicles to finally get everyone safely onboard the ships.

Before Li Xiao and his team could even catch their breath, a new directive flashed across their terminals.

“The DP Zone?” Qian Can opened the map, his forehead wrinkling. “This place is way too far. Why would they assign us to such an isolated corner?”

Li Xiao looked at the coordinates. It was indeed highly unusual. He opened a channel to Lieutenant Sun to query the order.

Sun answered quickly. Upon hearing Li Xiao’s doubts, he explained hurriedly, “The DP Zone is right up against the southern combat front. They are severely understaffed over there. It’s not just you; everyone who has completed their first run is being redirected to that sector.”

Li Xiao pressed, “Who are we linking up with once we arrive?”

“Someone will contact you when you get there,” Lieutenant Sun said abruptly before cutting the transmission.

Li Xiao frowned, an uneasy feeling settling in. Suddenly, the transport vehicle’s dashboard flashed an internal military alert:

[Warning: A massive wave of mutant variants is breaching East District 4. All rescue units are ordered to accelerate operations.]

With the situation turning critical, Li Xiao didn’t have time to second-guess the orders. He shifted gears and drove toward the DP Zone.

The DP Zone was situated at the northernmost edge of the active front. The situation here mirrored the CW Zone, though there were fewer avian beasts and far more terrestrial crawling mutants.

Li Xiao landed the vehicle near a dilapidated residential block according to the coordinates provided, but no one had reached out to establish contact.

“Help… Please, help…”

A faint, strained cry for help echoed through the air. Li Xiao tracked the sound to a fifth-floor apartment. The windows were shattered, and a figure was frantically tapping against the glass from behind a barricade of overturned furniture.

“There are people on the third floor too,” Song Jin said, straightening up as his gaze swept across the building. “At least six units still have survivors trapped inside.”

The ground floor was completely swarming with crawling mutants, effectively trapping the residents on the upper levels.

Li Xiao popped his door open. “I’ll go up. Stay here and wait for the signal.”

“You think you can clear all of them alone?” Song Jin opened the passenger door, stepping out. “It’s faster if we go together.”

Qin Le pushed open the back door. “A few floors of bugs? Piece of cake.”

“Count me in,” Jiang Hao added.

Li Xiao paused for a fraction of a second, a soft look passing through his eyes before he nodded. “Stay sharp and watch your backs.”

The moment their boots hit the ground, a flock of Crane Eagles dived at them.

Li Xiao fired his grappling hook, securing it to the fifth-floor balcony railing. As the mechanism reeled him upward, he drew his combat knife in mid-air, severing the neck of a diving Crane Eagle before landing flawlessly on the metal railing.

Inside, a Beta couple in their twenties looked at Li Xiao’s military uniform and burst into tears.

The husband sobbed, “We thought… we thought the military had abandoned us!”

Li Xiao asked calmly, “Did you contact the local garrison?”

“We called them last night!” the man cried out bitterly. “They kept saying they were coming, but we haven’t seen a single soul until now!”

“The scale of this beast tide exceeded expectations. They likely ran out of manpower,” Li Xiao explained, gesturing for them to move. “Follow me.”

“There are monsters everywhere outside!” the wife whimpered, shrinking behind her husband.

Spiders and mutant ants had already flooded the stairwells. Li Xiao kept the couple directly behind him, carving a bloody path forward. The couple trembled, carefully stepping over the severed limbs of the insects. Though terrified initially, seeing Li Xiao systematically put down every beast with effortless precision allowed them to breathe a sigh of relief.

When they reached the fourth-floor landing, they ran directly into Song Jin, who was leading another young couple down.

Li Xiao fired a shot to liquidate a spider lunging from the ceiling, asking casually, “Any injuries?”

“We’re fine,” Song Jin replied smoothly, putting a bullet through a mutant ant peeking over the window sill.

As they descended, the concentration of insects grew denser. Upon reaching the ground floor, Li Xiao opened a utility closet and ushered the civilians inside to hide temporarily while he went back to assist Jiang Hao and the others.

Once the entire team had successfully gathered all the remaining survivors, Li Xiao led the group through the main corridor toward the parking area.

“Wait… why is the rescue starship leaving?” Jiang Hao suddenly pointed toward the sky, confusion warping his features.

Li Xiao looked up, his brow furrowing instantly.

According to the evacuation grid, that specific starship was assigned to cover this exact zone. Yet, before the civilians had even been fully cleared, the massive vessel was pulling its landing gear and ascending.

Qian Can ran to the edge of the awning, straining his neck to look further out. “What the fuck?! Look over there—all the rescue ships are pulling out! Even the frontline clearing fighters are retreating!”

The rescued civilians, already on edge, immediately descended into sheer panic. Several began to weep openly.

“What are we supposed to do now?!”

“Are they just leaving us here to die?! This is insane!”

“Forget about us—the Second Prince is right here! What the hell is the military playing at?!”

Li Xiao immediately commanded AI 09, who was monitoring the airspace from above, to feed the surveillance data directly to his terminal.

The footage was damning. The rescue starships across five adjacent sectors were executing a synchronized retreat. The combat units were pulling back en masse toward the south. The entirety of the DP Zone had been completely stripped of military presence.

A strategic retreat? Or a deliberate clearing of the board?

A dark premonition gripped Li Xiao’s chest. He quickened his pace toward the vehicle. “Keep close. I will get you out of here.”

The civilians’ eyes lit up with renewed hope. In this moment of utter abandonment, the presence of the Second Prince provided an overwhelming sense of security.

With the streets outside crawling with beasts, Li Xiao instructed Jiang Hao’s group to keep the civilians protected inside the lobby while he stepped out onto the threshold, waiting for 09 to pilot the transport vehicle over.

Suddenly, a red alert flashed across his vision.

[09: Warning. Unidentified spacecraft detected entering the airspace.]

Almost at the exact same moment, Song Jin locked his gaze onto a specific coordinate in the sky, his expression darkening completely.

“What are they doing here?”

As the airborne spacecraft gradually descended, its silhouette became increasingly distinct. It was a silhouette all too familiar to Li Xiao. However, seeing it appear here, of all places on an active battlefield, left him deeply astonished.

This ship belonged to the Ravens.

As the logistics transport vehicle drew closer to the entrance, the monitoring feed inside the cabin suddenly flared to life on its own. The moment the camera captured Li Xiao standing behind the vehicle, a line of crimson text flashed across the system’s operational interface:

[Target Locked. Initiating Self-Destruct Sequence.]

Li Xiao was still observing the movements of the Raven spacecraft when AI 09’s urgent, piercing warning blasted directly into his earpiece.

[The transport vehicle’s system has been hijacked!]

[Time bomb detected!!! Exploding in three seconds, get back!]

The instant the warning registered, Li Xiao forcefully yanked Song Jin back, throwing himself over the other man to shield him as they crashed to the ground a fraction of a second before the blast.

In that split second, acting on Li Xiao’s automated fallback commands, AI 09 reasserted enough control over the transport vehicle to force it to accelerate away from the building at maximum speed. Simultaneously, AI 07 responded to Song Jin’s emergency directive, rapidly deploying a localized kinetic shield that expanded to envelop everyone huddled inside the main lobby.

BOOM—!

A deafening explosion tore through the air, sending a violent shockwave that made the very ground beneath them shudder. Shredded metal shards and pulverized concrete debris erupted outward like a hail of bullets, clattering sharply against the reinforced metal walls.

Song Jin immediately checked on Li Xiao’s condition. “Are you alright?”

Li Xiao held a hand to his brow, his expression freezing over. “I’m fine.”

The transport vehicle had detonated the exact moment the Ravens appeared. From the very start of this deployment, they had been ordered to operate independently, confined to a fixed flight path that conveniently routed them to the isolated DP Zone. Every bizarre anomaly they had encountered today finally fell into place.

So, this was what had been waiting for them.

This trap was a multi-faceted strike engineered to eliminate him, deal a crippling blow to his brother, and simultaneously frame the newly arrived Ravens. To achieve this end, their orchestrators had cast aside all restraint.

Li Xiao swiped open his terminal and sent a direct comms request to Wei Feng. After a few agonizing moments of ringing, the call finally connected.

Wei Feng’s characteristically detached voice filtered through: “My apologies. I am currently occupied and am not accepting any contracts.”

“Are you on Planet S80 right now?” Li Xiao demanded without preamble. “Order your people to pull back immediately!”

Silence stretched over the channel for a beat before Wei Feng’s tone shifted, turning cold and dismissive. “Impossible.”

Li Xiao pressed on, his voice dropping an octave. “What are you trying to accomplish?”

“This is Raven business,” Wei Feng replied rigidly. “You would do well not to interfere, little prince. I have no desire to count you among my enemies.”

Li Xiao’s face remained grim. “If you do not recall your forces right now, we are no longer friends.”

Wei Feng emphasized every syllable heavily: “Even if it means becoming enemies, you will not stop me today.”

“And what if this entire situation is a trap?” Li Xiao countered.

At that very moment, a breaking news headline surged past every other topic to claim the absolute top spot on the trending boards:

[FRONT LINE BREAKING NEWS: The terrorist organization ‘Raven’ has breached Planet S80 and launched a bombing raid on residential sectors. Casualties remain unconfirmed. According to reliable sources, the transport vehicle carrying the Second Prince, Li Xiao, was at the epicenter of the blast. All tracking signals from the vehicle have been lost!]

Having earned a massive wave of public adoration over the past few days, the sudden report of the Second Prince being obliterated by a terrorist group struck the populace like a physical blow. The tide of public opinion shifted instantly into a unified, furious denunciation of the Ravens, demanding they pay for this atrocity in blood.

The Imperial Palace of Danse.

Emperor Li Ji was in the middle of reviewing deployment reports from the various legions when his special assistant, Old Liu, rushed into the study with erratic, panicked steps.

“Your Majesty, a disaster has occurred!”

Li Ji kept his eyes on his papers. “What is it?”

Cold sweat beaded on Old Liu’s forehead as he stammered out the words. “The Second Prince… his position was hit by a Raven bombing run. The situation… looks incredibly grim!”

Li Ji froze instantly. He threw down his documents and stood up abruptly. “What did you say?!”

Old Liu handed over the raw intelligence report that had just filtered through from the military. Li Ji flipped through the first two pages at lightning speed. The moment his eyes locked onto the confirmation that Li Xiao’s designated vehicle was at the dead center of the detonation and had completely ceased transmission, he hurled the papers across the room in a towering rage.

“Meng Jian!”

On a heavily colonized and structurally secure planet, the Ravens’ heavily modified civilian craft shouldn’t have been capable of conducting a bombing run—they shouldn’t have even been able to penetrate the airspace, especially with the Fifth Legion’s active defensive grid deployed. Yet, the Ravens had not only breached the planet but had precisely targeted the exact vehicle carrying his brother.

This report wasn’t even attempting to hide the truth. It was a naked, unadulterated warning to the throne: You should not have resisted. If you do not play the part of a compliant puppet, you will find yourself powerless to protect anything.

The identity of the perpetrator was glaringly obvious. But without concrete evidence, there was no way to hold anyone accountable. Even if he could, no one possessed the leverage to enforce that accountability on his behalf. He had no choice but to swallow this bitter grievance. Standing alone, he simply lacked the pieces to dismantle an entire network of entrenched adversaries.

Looking at the trembling Emperor, Old Liu felt his eyes sting with unshed tears. Li Ji looked like a shattered marionette, teetering on the edge of a total collapse.

“Your Majesty… you must hold on…”

Military Headquarters.

“He truly believed that by showing a bit of teeth, he could break free from my grasp.”

Sitting in his expansive office at Military Headquarters, Admiral Meng Jian was in an exceptional mood as he perused the live intelligence reports streaming in from the front line.

Across from him, Qi Shoude placed a freshly brewed cup of tea before the Admiral. “In the end, he is learning that no matter how hard he struggles, he remains securely locked within the cage.”

To the side, however, Zheng Kang’an did not share their jubilant expressions. “The Emperor already harbored intentions of getting rid of Li Xiao. By doing this, you have essentially done his dirty work for him. He might very well be celebrating.”

“The board remains entirely under our control,” Qi Shoude intervened smoothly. “If he fails to realize that fundamental truth, then he deserves to be ousted from the throne.”

Zheng Kang’an frowned. “We have not yet fully secured the decentralized authority over the Ascendant Constellation, and yet we’ve already torn away the facade of civility. What is your next move?”

“He will hand it over,” Meng Jian stated, placing his teacup down with deliberate, ringing finality. “And if he refuses, we will simply take it.”

The Imperial Palace of Danse.

Li Ji sat entirely alone in his private chambers, staring blankly at his personal terminal for what felt like hours. He did not know if miracles could happen twice, but as long as he refused to seek final confirmation, a sliver of hope would always endure.

Suddenly, the terminal buzzed in his palm.

Li Ji’s heart leaped into his throat, his grip tightening convulsively around the device. On the familiar, highly encrypted messaging interface, a single line of text materialized:

[Do what you must do. I am more than capable of protecting myself.]

RULE 2: EXPERT GUIDE activated. The prompt contains an excerpt from a continuous narrative web novel. Would you like me to translate the next chapter, or do you have specific analysis questions about the political dynamics between the Royal Family and the Military Headquarters?