The Arbitrator, though a high-ranking member of the Iron-Blooded Clan, was first and foremost a Predator. That innate frenzy, that untamed spirit, and the rebellious thirst for war were woven into his very marrow, impossible to erase!

Humanity's repeated provocations had finally crossed his threshold!

But just as the imposing Arbitrator issued his command, a silver barrier suddenly materialized before him, deftly muffling the sound. The air beside him shimmered, and a form stepped out—a being of constantly shifting lines, transparent as crystal—and materialized beside the Arbitrator.

This was undoubtedly another Predator, but its pelvis was broad, its cheeks slender, and the contours of its full form were clearly discernible; one could immediately identify it as a female Predator.

In the Predator society, a matrilineal clan system, many powerful Elder Predators who held significant authority were accompanied by such formidable royal female warriors.

These royal female warriors trailed them like shadows, seemingly invisible at all times—unless the interests of the supreme Empress were jeopardized.

The royal female warrior stood proudly before the Arbitrator, her voice a low, pleasant resonance, "I regret, esteemed Arbitrator, but the command you just issued is void, as it violates the Queen's will."

A cascade of roars, like a beast's bellow, erupted from the Arbitrator's chest: "Do you wish for the glory of the Predators to be utterly ruined by my hand?! I have already yielded three times before those ant-like humans, but—but! Upon the third concession, I swore an oath in my father's name. I, the great bearer of the Kront lineage, a mighty being inheriting the blood of the King of Fangs, shall never retreat a fourth time, or else I shall reduce my own defiled soul and body to ash!"

"Regrettably, I understand your sentiment, esteemed Arbitrator. However, the Empress's majesty and will supersede all else. Therefore, I have no choice; I cannot allow your order to pass."

As this royal female warrior spoke, the Arbitrator's crimson mask and armor began to faintly exude a fresh scarlet hue, as if these lifeless objects were greedily sucking down blood. The Arbitrator slightly lowered his head, but his fists were clenched so tightly that his sharp claws nearly pierced the tough leather of his gauntlets.

"If... that... is... the... case... then... die!"

When the Arbitrator spoke, the initial few words were labored, as if he were afflicted by aphasia, only finding fluency in the latter part. Before speaking, he executed a sudden turn, but the power and agility of that movement carried the raw, terrifying ferocity of a beast hunting its prey!

The Arbitrator spun, threw a punch, and hammered a devastating blow directly into the royal female warrior's abdomen!!

The terrifying power contained in that punch was unimaginable; it tore through her armor, plunged deep into her abdominal cavity, ravaged her internal organs, and finally shattered her spine, bursting forth from her back!!!

The Arbitrator could distinctly feel, despite the slimy impediment of viscera affecting his grip, that the broken spine of the royal female warrior was stubbornly bracing against his arm, desperately trying to keep her body upright. Yet, the Predator’s surging life force was spraying out wildly with the emerald-tinged blood.

"I have had enough of you, Shanya. Rest now. I shall forgive your transgression; after your death, I will inter you in the tomb of the great King of Fangs, for you are my daughter."

Shanya gasped great draughts of air, her eyes filled not only with pain but also with fury: "You—you—you dare betray the Queen!"

"I am upholding the glory of the Iron-Blooded Clan!!" the Arbitrator roared, even as he seized Shanya's left arm with astonishing speed, brutally wrenching his daughter's limb and flinging it aside.

Then, the Arbitrator's explosive rage echoed through the ship's intercom: "Red Alert! We are entering the wormhole ahead and initiating transit! Anyone who dares to place an obstacle in our path is our enemy! What do we do to our enemies??"

After a brief interval, a thunderous roar erupted from every corner of the vessel: "Skin them! Hang those cowardly worms upside down from the ceiling!!"

The Arbitrator ripped off his mask and roared up toward the ceiling through his trapezoidal mandibles!

Four hours later, General Mongo aboard the Little Eagle received the report: the Sixth Fleet of the Andromeda Galaxy had been attacked while conducting maneuvers near Wormhole 1468.

The attackers were identified as ships from the Iron-Blooded Planet.

The fleet lost four "Satellite"-class interstellar destroyers and one "Planet"-class interstellar cruiser. However, the Iron-Blooded ships were also heavily damaged and fractured; approximately one-third of one vessel's hull split off after severe damage and was subsequently captured.

The transmitted imagery indicated that the original size of the Iron-Blooded Planet ship was comparable to a human "Star"-class vessel (ship classifications: Meteor < Comet < Planet < Star < Black Hole). Its initial shape was horseshoe-like, but it had morphed into a bow shape as it entered the wormhole.

Upon hearing the news, General Mongo couldn't help but slump back into his chair, pressing a hand to his forehead as if all strength and bone had been drained from his body.

After a long silence, he managed to ask the tactical AI before him with immense difficulty, "Then, in this event, the Iron-Blooded beings will arrive at the planet Eplos quite late, won't they?"

The AI quickly simulated a 3D route map and stated flatly, "Respected Lieutenant General, based on the data shared moments ago, the damage sustained by the Iron-Blooded vessels will not affect their speed."

General Mongo’s eyes snapped wide open: "How is that possible??"

The AI patiently explained, "The flight principle of the Iron-Blooded ships is entirely different from ours. They utilize the gravitational pull between stars as propulsion—the Sun can drag the 60 trillion-ton Earth through space at a speed of 30 kilometers per second in orbit. The Iron-Blooded beings have ingeniously harnessed this power; their vessel itself is a massive engine. Therefore, according to your request, the result I calculate is forty-eight hours."

"The Iron-Blooded beings will reach Eplos in a maximum of forty-eight hours."

At this time, Fang Senyan and the others were naturally unaware of this disastrous news, or perhaps, even if they knew, they couldn't spare the attention.

Because the assault on the Frenzied Beasts' nest was reaching its most intense peak. To entertain distracting thoughts at this juncture could only be described as courting death.

Aided by Hadrik, the Willow Seed had once again displayed its tremendous power. The Frenzied Beasts, who had just gathered the courage to enter the water, were immediately afflicted and crammed onto the land island. This time, Fang Senyan and his team appeared squarely in the distance. Bokan utilized the immense power of his terrain shaping, slowly constructing a solid embankment in the swamp, extending toward the land island. The reborn Ramtas lay prone atop this long causeway, its muscles constantly contracting, continuously firing its long quills into the packed mass of Frenzied Beasts on the island.

Although their numbers had decreased by a third, the population density on the island remained significant. More critically, thanks to Fang Senyan's detectors, even the Frenzied Beasts lurking just beneath the shallow topsoil could not hide.

Paul, meanwhile, had spent several hours assembling a sniper rifle from metal components that could perform both pinpoint sniping and rapid-fire suppression: the SIG SG550!

The bullets from this weapon had power roughly equivalent to a Desert Eagle but possessed a range of 1200 meters, capable of both semi-automatic and single-shot precision work.

Furthermore, since this weapon was custom-made by Paul, the elite soldiers could also use it. Having endured years here, every bullet, every shot, had to be utilized with a chilling degree of meticulous precision—killing two targets with one shot was the bare minimum requirement... Thus, one could imagine the bloodbath that would ensue when this weapon fell into the hands of those whose desire to shoot had been suppressed for too long!!

The swamp, once the undisputed hunting ground for the Savage Beasts, had now become an impassable chasm for them. The five-meter-wide embankment appeared fragile, and while Xenomorphs could easily surge up from the swamp to kill, Fang Senyan, Ronnie, and the recently repaired Iron Golem stood ready. Any Xenomorph that charged would face a tempestuous counter-attack!

The Xenomorphs' intelligence was clearly not low, which is why they had refrained from taking any action. However, their reaction was precisely within Fang Senyan's plan. Fang Senyan's presence exerted immense pressure, yet they were compelled to remain nearby, swimming constantly to reflect that pressure back onto the enemy. Otherwise, the Xenomorphs still retained the memory of the terrifying consequences when they allowed these humans to attack unchecked.

The two sides were locked in a stalemate, but this standoff was unequal. While Ramtas only had fifty quills available for shooting before needing hours to regrow them, Paul carried an inexhaustible supply of ammunition—given the precision of those powerful marksmen, the number of bullets they possessed was enough to slaughter the beasts on the island ten times over! (To be continued)