A brief silence fell over the battlefield as both sides took in the data that was still being collected by their sensors, with the other side immedialtely realizing that Xalthar the person who brought them here has already being captured, making their work harder than inntiatily expeted as not matter where he is they had taken an oath to rescue him and they had to keep that oath no matter what.At the same time they were also surprised by the sheer numbers displayed before them as despite it being lower than them by maginiutes it was still beyond their expectations. The only one unfazed was Aron, who stared passively at the massive number of enemy forces without a hint of emotion on his face as even if the number on the other side doubled it would still be within his expectation."Start sending the broadcast signals," he instructed calmly, aware that this was the only window he had before the chaos began. Once the other side finished analyzing their surroundings and pinpointing allie
In the next five seconds, silence gripped the Conclave forces as they struggled to process what had just occurred. The concept of a black hole was something they had only studied from afar, a distant cosmic phenomenon at the center of the galaxy, safely observed but never experienced. Now, faced with the unimaginable reality of being caught in its devastating force, panic set in. The terror was overwhelming—horror-inducing, will-breaking, and utterly impossible to combat.Ten seconds later, the urgency hit them. With only fifteen seconds left to respond or face another round of annihilation, chaos erupted. Frenzied shouting filled the air as soldiers and commanders alike screamed for their leaders to surrender. Discipline, rank, and years of training were forgotten in the face of imminent death, as the overwhelming fear of being obliterated consumed them.They were prepared to sacrifice their lives for their civilization, their organization, or any cause they believed in—but only if t
The imperial first-line fleets reacted instantly as the incoming missiles and spells entered the point of no return. They launched their own counterattack, deploying smaller missiles, which were accompanied by a barrage of sleek, black spheres. These spheres spread out in all directions, tasked with intercepting the incoming threats from every possible angle, given that the attacks were converging from multiple vectors in space to bypass potential defenses.While the missiles handled the initial phase of interception, the sleek spheres communicated and coordinated seamlessly with each other. Each one generated a hexagonal shield, which linked together to form an interlocking barrier around the fleet. This network of shields braced for impact, prepared to handle the incoming mana-powered attacks that could not be countered through conventional methods alone.The first attack to challenge the hexagonal shields was an immense ball of fire, burning with such intensity that it could melt m
From a two-dimensional perspective, an observer witnessing this conflict would see two sides engaged in entirely different battles as a result of the ongoing attacks. The imperial forces remained focused on thwarting waves of incoming assaults, while the Conclave forces were also caught in a defensive struggle against attacks that seemed to emerge from thin air.The invisible enemy skillfully capitalized on the gaps created by the Conclave forces, who had spaced themselves apart in preparation for a potential rush after the imperial forces were defeated. Their attacks, launched from these positions, caught the Conclave by surprise, throwing them into a scramble to respond effectively.As the Conclave struggled to counter the incoming assaults, they faced the daunting task of not only stopping the initial attacks but also preventing breaching pods from infiltrating their ships. At the same time, they had to focus on eliminating the stealth forces that were orchestrating the offensive.
The breaching pods launched by the stealth forces, despite being accompanied by missiles, weapons, and their own defenses, still had a very low success rate due to the advanced multi-target tracking systems of spacefaring civilizations. To counter this, the empire employed a tried-and-true strategy: overwhelming those systems with sheer numbers. This tactic was only possible thanks to their atomic printers, allowing them to mass-produce breaching pods and launch them to their almost certain destruction without risking any lives of their soldiers in such an operation.As a result of the numerous obstacles, only an average of one percent of the breaching pods successfully penetrated ships without being destroyed. Some forces experienced a higher number of breaches, while others, like the Shadari, had almost none. The Shadari's advanced detection systems allowed them to identify the pods from a greater distance, providing a buffer zone that enabled them to intercept and eliminate all of
‘This is very weird,’ Seraphina thought to herself as she gazed at the scattered remains of the enemy soldiers now littering the floor. Fragments of metal, bone, roots, and remnants of mana floated in the air, their strange compositions scattered after the soldiers had exploded. She had effortlessly eliminated each one as they emerged from the breaching pod, but something felt deeply unsettling about the encounter. It wasn’t the act of killing—she was long accustomed to that—it was the way the enemy reacted. There was no fear, no panic, almost as if they weren't concerned about death at all. It was as though dying was a game to them.Before Seraphina could ponder further, she was alerted to another breach elsewhere on the ship. She needed to respond immediately. Turning on her heel, wings began materializing from her back—elegant, yet powerful, forming in a mere two seconds. With a single, mighty flap, she vanished from the room. The only evidence of her presence was the aftermath: un
Throughout the entire debacle, which had been raging for over half an hour, Aron remained a silent observer. His role, as always, was to step back and watch the unfolding chaos with calculated detachment. He had already given John the mental "picture" he envisioned—an abstract strategy, a broad outline of how events should transpire. It was John's job, as usual, to transform that vision into a masterpiece. For years, John's sole purpose had been to execute Aron's will with precise artistry, and he had yet to disappoint, ever since Aron had cured him a few years ago.Meanwhile, every sensor embedded in the battlefield was constantly relaying streams of data back to the central servers for storage and analysis. Nova handled the cataloging process, ensuring that every piece of information was meticulously organized. The rest of the AIs were tasked with more direct functions, managing the countless minute details of the battlefield. The sheer scale of the conflict was something no human c
{A/N: Sorry for the messy upload schedule. School has opened I’m trying to adjust to it}The Valthorin, Shadari, Elara, Xor'Vak, Kha'Sar, Erythians, Zevlora, Trinarians, Yrral Coalition, and Glavinith were the top ten races in the Conclave. Each of these civilizations had mastered a unique specialization that allowed them to secure and maintain their position among the top ten, despite the constant influx of new civilizations joining the Conclave. These specializations were the cornerstones of their power, shaping their influence and dominance in the ever-evolving political and military landscape of the Conclave.The Valthorins’ society is built around a core philosophy called "Kairos," meaning "The Eternal Flame of Pride." This belief system determines their self-worth by how well they preserve and protect their pride in every aspect of life. As a result, Valthorins are incredibly hard-working, relentlessly striving to elevate their status within their society. Honor and reputation
“Seraphina,” Aron began, his voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of authority, “I’m not your enemy—unless you choose to make me one. I understand your anger, your frustration. You’ve lost control of a situation you believed was firmly under your command. But this predicament wasn’t my doing—you’re here because your leader chose to sacrifice you. What I’m offering you isn’t a chain—it’s an opportunity.”Her sharp eyes narrowed, the intensity of her gaze unwavering, but she held her silence. Aron leaned forward, his own gaze unrelenting as it met hers.“You can continue resisting, pushing the boundaries of the mana oath, and enduring needless pain. Or…” He paused, letting the words linger like a challenge. “You can choose to turn this situation into one that serves us both. Your strength, your insight—these are not things I wish to suppress. Quite the opposite. I want them refined, amplified, and put to meaningful use.”He motioned toward the table, where Nova was still doing fina
[Colosseum]Aron and Seraphina stood motionless, maintaining the same distance as at the start of their faceoff. Neither had moved, even during the spectacular fireworks show that followed Aron’s acceptance of her surrender. The only exception was Aron briefly waving to the citizens of his empire watching the broadcast, many of whom were overcome with emotion, crying in celebration of their historic victory. This event marked the first-ever interstellar combat they had participated in, and despite their lack of experience, they emerged as the sole victors.As cheers of triumph reverberated among his people and the disbelief of others lingered, the broadcast concluded. The moment Aron secured his final victory, the Arena itself was officially handed over to him as part of his reward, along with control of the AI referee. Without hesitation, the AI complied with her new owner’s first command: to end the broadcast. Aron had more pressing matters to attend to—a private conversation with a
[Meeting Room]Inside the Zelvora mental network, an oppressive silence hung over the gathered representatives around the meeting table. The events of the day had left them all stunned, their minds racing with the implications of what had transpired. These were not just any representatives—they were the ones who had signed off on the agreements, the architects of their civilizations’ participation in this contest.Now, they were confronted with the brutal outcome of their decisions.Many representatives sat deep in thought, their faces betraying various degrees of fear, frustration, and resignation. Those who hailed from civilizations steeped in selfish political traditions knew all too well the grim truth: scapegoats would be needed. Someone would have to bear the brunt of the blame for the humiliation, anger, and setbacks their civilizations had suffered.For many of them, the path forward seemed bleak. In the best-case scenario, they might lose their positions, exiled from the corr
To say Aron was surprised would be the understatement of the gigaannum. The announcement had obliterated every scenario he had meticulously crafted in his mind. In all his time spent in simulations, preparing for countless contingencies, not once had he considered the possibility of the Xor’Vaks surrendering—least of all without a fight.Their pride in their strength was legendary, surpassing even the vaunted arrogance of the Valthorins. For a race that reveled in their dominance, surrendering, especially on such a grand stage, was unthinkable. This sudden reversal of expectations hit him with such force that he could practically feel the metaphorical veins in his temple throbbing from the sheer shock of it all.The audience’s collective astonishment mirrored his own, but none felt it as acutely as Aron, whose carefully laid strategies now seemed almost laughably over-prepared in the face of this unanticipated twist.The largest part of Aron's shock wasn’t just the surrender itself bu
The minutes passed quickly for the viewers, their eyes glued to Aron as he sat unmoving in the same meditative position for over fifteen minutes. Speculation ran rampant on both sides, fueled by curiosity and tension.For those in the Empire, the consensus was that Aron was in VR, likely meeting with family or key figures. Many debated who he might be speaking with, guessing that he was either calming worried loved ones or strategizing for the next fight.On the other hand, viewers from the Astral Conclave harbored a mix of anxiety and intrigue. They questioned whether Aron was recuperating in preparation for the upcoming battle, enhancing his focus and mental clarity, or if his recovery from the previous fight was incomplete and he was still in the process of healing.But their speculations ceased to matter as Aron opened his eyes with five minutes remaining in the waiting period. Calm and deliberate, he removed the glasses from his head, placing them back into their container. His n
The moment the fight was officially declared over, Nova acted without hesitation. She immediately dispatched the collector ship, equipped with a medipod, to retrieve the Trinarian fighter's body. Simultaneously, she ensured Aron could rearm himself with a fresh set of nanomachines. For the first time, this process was being done openly, marking a significant shift.Previously, nanomachines had been classified technology, their existence kept strictly under wraps. However, that secrecy had been unintentionally broken when Nova used them to cover Aron’s exposed body during a critical moment, prioritizing his dignity over confidentiality. As a result, while the technology remained shrouded in mystery, its existence was now officially acknowledged, albeit without disclosing any further details.Aron retrieved a small canister from the ship and opened it, revealing a liquid-like substance inside. Pouring it onto his hand, the substance behaved unnaturally, defying gravity as it began to sp
"Him alive is better than dead, right? I can use his live brain data to study how they use their spatial abilities—it might even help accelerate my plans if things go as intended," Aron said as he stood over the fainting Trinarian fighter.{True, having him alive presents opportunities. But dead men cause no problems, while the living carry infinite potential for chaos—especially one like him. If our spatial lockdown isn’t enough to fully contain his abilities, he could use them long enough to cause catastrophic damage, even if it means enduring the backlash,} Nova replied, her tone laced with caution. She wanted to ensure Aron was fully aware of the risks he was inviting by sparing the fighter's life.Usually, Nova would have been in favor of keeping him alive—it meant more data for her to process, analyze, and extrapolate from. But spatial ability users were in a league of their own when it came to danger. Even a dead one would yield enough data to at least satisfy her curiosity for
“Nova,” Aron called out in his mind the moment his eyes snapped open, rapidly collecting information and orienting himself, realizing he had finally left the enigmatic place the system had sent him.“Nova,” he called again, this time aloud, his voice carrying a commanding weight as it echoed faintly in the arena. Receiving no response to his first call, his sharp gaze shifted to his surroundings. It didn’t take long for him to notice his current state—nearly naked, save for the swarm of nanomachines that had begun assembling around him.{The system had ejected me, sir,} Nova’s voice finally came through, calm but slightly delayed as the nanomachines completed their task. They prioritized covering his lower body, forming a sleek pair of trousers, as there weren’t enough surviving nanomachines to reconstruct full armor. His chiseled upper body remained exposed, glistening under the lights of the Colosseum, much to the awe and unease of the spectators.Nova’s pragmatic choice left Aron l
Following Nova's orders and the AI referee's approval, the mana stone carriers swiftly began moving toward the Colosseum. As the first ship arrived and entered, it wasted no time, promptly unloading its entire cargo of mana stones before departing to make way for the next carrier to do the same. The process was conducted with remarkable efficiency, ensuring a steady flow of mana stones into the Colosseum without any unnecessary delays.The process continued as over fifty ships unloaded their cargo of mana stones, an act many from the Conclave viewed as both excessive and wasteful. With each successive ship, the pain of the Conclave's viewers grew, particularly when the fifth ship alone had already matched the quantity of mana stones used during the Colosseum's initial construction. Yet, they didn’t stop there; instead, they went on to unload ten times that amount, as if mana stones were an endless resource, leaving the Conclave citizens bewildered and horrified by such apparent extra