Chapter 1012: The First Shot in the Shining World

Chapter 1012: The First Shot That Echoes Across the Shining World

The logistical fleet, composed primarily of transport vessels, cargo haulers, and industrial ships, boasted considerable mass; though armed and shielded, their maneuverability and firepower paled in comparison to combat vessels of equivalent technological tier, forcing them to huddle at the formation’s core, sheltered by the armed vanguard.

At this moment, a fraction of the support ships fell prey to a virtual incursion, ramming outward into the escort frigates and instantly tearing the expeditionary armada’s formation asunder; their onboard weapons, far from idle, unleashed a frenzied barrage from behind, mercilessly targeting the aft sections of the escorts.

Because the outer warships had diverted scant energy to their rear shields, their sterns were instantly ruptured in a cascade of sparks, plunging multiple squadrons into disarray.

“Regain control of those rogue vessels, hold the line, hold it! All other ships, reinforce your intelligent defense perimeters and increase system diagnostic frequency!” Rodick had no leisure for contemplation, barking orders to contain the sudden crisis.

A Beyond Grade A virtual mechanic had always been a cataclysmic force in interstellar warfare; any fleet unfortunate enough to face such a foe would inevitably find itself gripped by dread.

The only permanent solution would be to sever all shipboard intelligences, yet that would paralyze the command network, an act indistinguishable from steering the entire armada into suicide.

For now, quantum-network-based control and communication systems remained the cosmos’s most efficient standard; alternative frameworks rooted in arcane or biological artifices certainly existed, but they carried far greater flaws.

To enchant a vessel into a sentient alchemical entity, for instance, would multiply its cost exponentially, yield control efficiency vastly inferior to quantum networks, suffer incomparable deficits in transmission range and speed, and expose numerous vulnerabilities; by any metric, their encryption paled against quantum firewalls, and against mages or psychics, they would surrender just as easily.

Every civilization across the stars possessed countermeasures against virtual intrusion, yet their efficacy hinged entirely upon the adversary’s prowess.

Confronting Han Xiao at his peak Beyond Grade A zenith, the Mordu civilization’s digital defenses clearly buckled, merely delaying the inevitable breach rather than truly barring his entry; no matter how fiercely they resisted, their lines would be consecutively shattered, his data streams injected without mercy.

As for the vessels already wrested from their grasp, reclaiming them was a task bordering on the impossible.

Amid the chaos, the expeditionary fleet found itself besieged from both front and rear, forced to detach squadrons to quell the internal revolt sparked by the hijacked ships; the battlefield devolved into turmoil, hammered from two directions, and the Mordu armada gradually began to falter.

Some compromised vessels pierced the formation and escaped, swiftly captured by the assailants, while others careened wildly, launching suicidal strikes that targeted not only the closing escorts but also their own uncompromised logistical brethren.

To stem the bleeding, Rodick was forced to order the destruction of several support ships; watching vessels laden with vital resources blossom into fleeting fireworks against the void, his countenance darkened profoundly, his features twisting with barely contained anguish.

The Shining World was now teeming with travelers, and though this route lay off the beaten path, it was not entirely deserted; the violent energy fluctuations rippling from the engagement soon drew the attention of numerous passing convoys.

Most witnesses, beholding an interstellar conflict of such magnitude and fearing entanglement, dared not linger, hastily altering course to flee the vicinity.

Yet a handful of factions approached with caution, observing from a distance; upon recognizing the Mordu insignia, they could not resist exchanging whispers across the broad-spectrum communication channels.

“The Mordu fleet is actually under attack?”

“Who dares such a thing? To provoke a Super Cluster civilization, and seemingly hold the advantage, no less.”

“We have only just entered the Shining World, yet they have mobilized such a force; it is all but certain the attackers hail from the Empire.”

“The assailants have masked their faction markers. Their identity remains unknown.”

“Tsk, they concealed their banners precisely to leave no trail. Guard your tongues, lest you invite calamity.”

Though these passing powers indulged in their spectator’s curiosity, none dared intervene; no one wished to court disaster.

As the battle raged, Rodick ordered his fleet to fight while advancing, steadily dragging the engagement toward the coordinates of the next star gate station.

Imperial squadrons garrisoned that station, and though Rodick knew the attackers were inextricably linked to the Empire, the Empire could not openly strike the Mordu without catastrophic repercussions; such an act would shatter their pledge of a free and open Shining World and furnish their political rivals with a devastating pretext.

Schooled by the ways of Super Cluster civilizations, he understood the true nature of the three cosmic hegemonies all too well; in his eyes, they were not merely brigands, but harlots who insisted on erecting monuments to their own virtue, desperate to legitimize their dominion.

With so many onlookers now gathered, Rodick knew the Imperial garrison would be compelled to intervene; merely approaching the star gate would be enough to force the attackers’ retreat.

After a period of fierce exchange, the assailants finally ceased their assault, voluntarily disengaging and slipping into warp drive; one by one, they dissolved into streaks of luminescence, slipping beyond radar horizons and vanishing without a trace.

“The enemy has fled.” Witnessing this, Lagos finally allowed his tense frame to relax, though he hesitated before asking, “Shall we give chase?”

“We cannot pursue. This is not our territory.”

Rodick’s expression remained grim; though fury burned within him, his reason held firm. Grinding his teeth, he commanded, “Secure the battlefield. Tally our losses.”

The casualties were swiftly compiled, and an adjutant approached, daring not to meet Rodick’s gaze as he delivered his report with meticulous caution.

“Report: we have lost eight percent of our armed escorts, with twenty-nine percent sustaining varying degrees of damage and currently undergoing nanite reconstruction. The logistical division has suffered a thirty-seven percent vessel loss, fifteen percent of which were captured by the enemy, predominantly transports…”

Rodick’s vision swam with darkness.

Over a third of the support fleet, gone in an instant, along with a mountain of critical resources; this ambush had exacted a toll far too grievous to bear!

A catastrophic deficit!

“Absolutely disgraceful!” The Three Kings of Mordu wore expressions as dark as cast iron; their communication link had remained open throughout, forcing them to witness the expeditionary fleet’s brutal mauling firsthand.

They had pinned immense hopes upon the armada and Rodick alike, yet mere steps into the Shining World had yielded such devastating losses; the monarchs’ disappointment and wrath required no words to convey.

“My apologies. This failure rests upon my shoulders.” Rodick turned swiftly, jaw clenched as he accepted the blame.

As commander, there was no shifting this burden; he had walked into a snare, and he could hardly fault the enemy for laying it. Regardless of justification, the loss was absolute, and his failure to shield the logistical wing was an undeniable truth; to offer excuses would only brand him as a coward shirking duty in the Kings’ eyes, so however suffocating the injustice, he could only swallow it.

“We granted you command of the expeditionary fleet out of faith in your capabilities, yet your performance now compels us to question the wisdom of that appointment…” The Three Kings delivered their reprimand with chilling severity.

Rodick dared not utter a word of defiance to his sovereigns; he stood rigid beneath the verbal lashing, enduring it like a chastised subordinate, offering only repeated vows of future vigilance.

Having vented their fury, the Three Kings finally ordered him to manage the aftermath with haste, their faces stormy as they severed the transmission.

Only then did Rodick straighten, his complexion ashen, his entire being trembling with suppressed humiliation.

He knew this debacle had already tarnished his standing with his superiors; without a decisive act of redemption, his future would undoubtedly be shrouded in obscurity.

A frigid silence permeated the command chamber; every officer present watched Rodick with trepidation, and though the fleet awaited his next directive, no one dared to provoke his temper.

Lagos cleared his throat, steeling himself before breaking the silence:

“The Empire possesses only a handful of Beyond Grade A mechanics. Though our adversary relied on virtual intrusion and never revealed themselves, judging by the efficiency of the breach, I suspect Black Star is the most likely culprit.”

“Spare your suspicions. It was him!” Rodick’s voice was glacial, saturated with venom.

“A pity we lack proof. He…”

“And what would proof accomplish?!” Rodick cut him off, his words ground out through clenched teeth.

Even knowing the attackers were almost certainly the Black Star Army meant absolutely nothing; the Shining World was their domain, and marching his meager forces to confront them would be nothing short of delivering their own heads on a platter.

Rodick had attempted to force a boarding action earlier, hoping to capture enemy crewmen as evidence, but the assailants had meticulously maintained their distance, thwarting his design. Yet in his mind, even solid evidence would barely ripple the Black Star Army’s standing—within the Shining World, that entrenched power operated with near impunity!

Though the Mordu civilization ranked among the Super Clusters, their heartland lay in the Old Star River, vastly separated from the Broken Star Ring and the Shining World; their reach simply did not extend this far, and no amount of raw power could touch the Black Star Army here. Nor were they a cosmic hegemony backed by a pantheon of Beyond Grade A allies; against Black Star himself, they were equally powerless.

The result was a suffocating paradox: knowing exactly who had struck them, yet being utterly incapable of retaliation, forced to watch helplessly as the enemy dictated the terms; Rodick’s frustration threatened to shatter his composure entirely.

The realization only deepened his despair; drawing several sharp breaths, he whirled to glare at Lagos, snarling, “Patch me through to Garoze. I will personally demand to know why he refused to engage!”

With no other outlet for his wrath, he could only redirect it, and Garoze was indeed culpable; lingering so close yet refusing to fight suggested some profound failing, giving Rodick every right to his fury.

Lagos could only comply, reestablishing the link; the screen flickered, and Garoze’s figure materialized.

Rodick struck first, his voice a thunderous roar: “Give me one reason!”

Garoze’s brow furrowed, his expression impassive as he replied coolly, “Mind your tone.”

When facing the untouchable Black Star, his demeanor had been steeped in reverence and devoid of confidence, but before Rodick, he instantly reclaimed the aloof majesty of a Beyond Grade A, practically carving the word “untouchable” across his features.

Two words sufficed: brutally authentic.

“Why did you merely watch from the sidelines?”

“I will be contacting your superiors to terminate my contract.” Garoze offered no justification, severing the link without another word.

When he had accepted the commission, he had anticipated merely countering rival external factions, never expecting to cross paths with Black Star; the venture had instantly turned unprofitable, and he had no desire to continue, preferring to swallow a breach penalty rather than be dragged into a war between the Mordu and the Black Star Army.

Since he was already withdrawing, he would certainly not utter Black Star’s name—to offend both sides would be the height of folly, and having chosen his alignment, he would see it through to the end.

Moreover, he refused to admit he feared Black Star, and thus had no intention of explaining his motives to outsiders.

Yet this condescending, utterly dismissive posture caused Rodick’s barely settled blood pressure to surge violently once more!

—Oh, so he deems my station too insignificant to even warrant an explanation?!

"A pack of bastards!"

Rodick trembled with rage, his fists cycling through clenching and unclenching, his face twisted into an expression as foul as if he had swallowed excrement.

Lagos wore a mask of grim sorrow. "We have lost a great deal of equipment and resources. We can only draw from the reserves at our rear outposts now, which will inevitably slow our pace. The strategic implications are far too severe..."

Every faction was locked in fierce competition; to fall behind at the very outset meant sacrificing untold potential gains. Lagos dared not dwell on the details, his heart practically bleeding.

It was no exaggeration to say that the Modo Civilization's development plans for the Shining World had been utterly shattered by this single strike!

Just then, the Imperial patrol fleet, charged with keeping the peace, finally made its belated appearance, transmitting a hail as an officer's visage flickered onto the screen.

"We detected energy signatures consistent with combat. What transpired here?"

Rodick drew a deep breath, his face dark as a storm cloud, and recounted the recent events in full.

The Imperial officer gave a curt nod. "We are apprised of the situation. Pursuit teams will be dispatched immediately, and you will be notified the moment we have intelligence."

With that, the Imperial patrol fleet wheeled about, scattering into formation as they surged toward the attackers' last known trajectory.

They appeared the picture of dutiful diligence, yet both Rodick and Lagos knew in their bones that the Empire's pursuit would yield absolutely nothing.

...

Meanwhile, a contingent of the attackers halted in a secluded sector, engaging stealth protocols as they corralled the captured logistics vessels and began stripping them of their cargo.

The captured Modo crewmen were herded into a single vessel jammed against all transmissions, their gear confiscated, as they stared in trembling dread at the armored warriors standing guard with weapons ready.

At that moment, one armored fighter stepped forward from the ranks, removing his helmet to reveal a youthful, baby-faced countenance—it was Nilo.

A ripple of agitation swept through the captives at the sight of him; those who had studied his dossiers instantly realized their assailants were the Black Star Army.

Nilo surveyed the crowd, straining to project an air of stern authority, though the effort only served to make his cherubic features appear all the more endearing.

"Two paths now lie before you. The first is death. The second is to surrender your freedom in exchange for your lives, and labor for us in perpetuity."

A heavy silence fell over the assembly, only to be shattered by a sudden voice:

"Do you not fear that we will betray you?"

Nilo narrowed his eyes. "Who speaks?"

As the words hung in the air, a short-statured Modo stepped forward, murmuring, "I am the deputy logistics director for this expedition, and commander of the engineering technical corps. I am a senior engineer."

A spark of interest ignited in Nilo's gaze.

Had they just captured a high-ranking technical officer from the enemy?

"That is not your concern. You will have no contact with the outside world; you will become shadows of the Army forever," Nilo said slowly. "We will not force the unwilling. The airlock is right there. Step out into the void if you refuse. Choose now."

"It appears we have no other choice," the deputy logistics director replied, his face etched with resignation.

The captives exchanged glances, and without prolonged hesitation, every single one opted for the second path.

Swiftly, Nilo separated the technical specialists from the rest; they would prove useful, secretly serving the Army in the days to come as their remaining value was squeezed dry.

As for the non-technical crew, per Han Xiao's directives, they would be shipped to the Kunde race's homeworld. Whether they ended up as slaves or were torn to pieces by the Kunde mattered little to him; they were merely fodder to vent the Kunde's wrath.

Those who had joined the Modo expedition were soldiers at their core; they might have been ignorant of the Kunde incident, but they were far from innocent. Let them pay the debts of their civilization—it was only natural... Revenge demanded the proper visage of vengeance; there was no room for mercy.

...

En route to the Black Star Palace, Han Xiao received the victory report dispatched by Phillip, nodding involuntarily as a deep sense of satisfaction settled in his chest.

"Now, for the Modo Civilization to establish a foothold in the Shining World will be an ordeal upon an ordeal."

Han Xiao had ordered his fleet to strike the Modo expedition under concealed identities; so long as no irrefutable evidence remained, their private suspicions would hold no power over him.

He had no intention of annihilating Rodick's fleet entirely; he could not afford to extinguish the Modo Civilization's hope completely.

Only by compelling them to continuously pour resources into the Shining World could he orchestrate his long-term retribution; otherwise, if they truly abandoned the region, he would be forced to hunt them down in their own territory, the Old Star River, which would be a far greater hassle.

Now, the Modo Civilization would simply replenish their supplies, perfectly setting the stage for a slow, steady bleed.

A dull blade carving flesh was the most exquisite torment... Ask no questions, for the only answer is that he reigned as a sovereign of suffering.

In the previous life's Version 4.0 era, competition among external factions would only grow more cutthroat, and covert strikes under false flags would become increasingly commonplace.

Today, I have effectively fired the opening shot in the Shining World...

A sharp, calculating gleam flashed through Han Xiao's eyes.

"Just you wait, little ones. This is merely the beginning. You have not yet tasted the bitter vintage I have in store for you."