The sudden cessation of the banging on the steel door did not signal surrender; instead, everyone could sense a taut stillness, like a drawn bow.

At that very moment, Fang Senyan sauntered to the front of the great door, seemingly chewing gum.

Among the remaining members, most had only heard tales of his might, and impressions built only on sound were notoriously unreliable. It wasn't until Fang Senyan nonchalantly stationed himself before the iron door that they gained a direct appreciation for the Brigadier General’s inherent dominance, realizing his storied reputation was hard-earned and not mere hyperbole.

And indeed, this was the truth: a person’s authority and sway within a group are forged in moments just like this.

After a few agonizing seconds, a single Elite Raptorial Beast, the size of a small calf, suddenly burst forth, shattering the steel door into fragments. Yet, it seemed to strike a veritable wall of lead shot; the creature was immediately riddled with bullet holes from the terrifying barrage, spraying viscous fluids everywhere.

Pontan, roaring in fury while gripping his welding pliers, violently jammed them into the Raptorial Beast's gaping maw. A violent spray of bright blood and pale-green ichor erupted, and just as the Elite Beast was about to retaliate, Fang Senyan seized its two forelimbs and hurled it away with brutal force, slamming it against the hard wall nearby!

The Elite Raptorial Beast was engineered as a ferocious bio-weapon for warfare; thus, even when wounded, it only grew stronger. It immediately lunged, biting at the nearest target, but the enemy reacted swiftly, parrying the attack and catching the creature's tooth on their elbow. While the bite achieved some impact, it nevertheless caused the creature's teeth to ache painfully.

During the brief stutter in its attack, a large, red Mark of Death was placed upon its head. A shadow flickered with unnatural swiftness behind it, and five or six flashes of crimson light erupted continuously. In an instant, the Elite Raptorial Beast exploded into a mist of gore!

It was Ronnie, making his move with silent precision!

Ronnie was undeniably pleased with himself at this moment. Having chosen to defect to this new rebel faction, his only losses were a two-level reduction in his basic skills, a five-point drop in Agility, and a five percent decrease in Critical Hit Rate and Evasion. However, the rewards were staggering. His most immediate gain was a survival capability that had increased by at least fifty percent, and perhaps doubled when factoring in the 'Healing Light' skill.

Furthermore, the extra ten percent boost provided by Fang Senyan's customized serums was more than enough to compensate for the lost five points of Agility and the five percent drop in crit and evasion rates. Even more significantly, Ronnie's prior greatest constraint had been insufficient Mana, which severely limited his ability to chain skills and unleash bursts of power.

Although he was the team's primary scout, the inherent weakness of his team's Main Tank meant that close-range combat was rarely as convenient or swift as ranged attacks. He constantly had to guard against enemy counter-strikes, placing him at a disadvantage in sustained output compared to pure ranged damage dealers. Consequently, equipment that increased Intelligence and maximum Mana capacity could never be prioritized for him...

Now, after gaining the Silver Team’s augmentation, if Ronnie previously had to worry about Mana consumption after deploying three or four skills, he now could unleash twenty or thirty before considering it a constraint. If the former Ronnie was like the Eighth Route Army, low on ammunition and forced to fire one shot and change position, the current Ronnie was a fully supplied field army—his burst capacity and sustained output had distinctly escalated!

Watching Ronnie execute an instant five-hit combo, landing three critical strikes to vaporize the Elite Raptorial Beast, Fang Senyan couldn't help but marvel at the monstrosity of the man's fourfold critical damage multiplier.

Having secured the kill, Fang Senyan swiftly snatched the Soul Crystal dropped by the slain beast and stated in a grave voice, "Don't linger! The Protoss and Zerg forces will undoubtedly focus their attention on the city. We need to move quickly; we cannot waste the few minutes of advantage we gained by entering the Ancient City first."

As he spoke, he directed Ramtas to cast 'Vine Growth.' A mass of resilient vines immediately began drawing nutrients from the surrounding Hassock organic matter, rapidly growing and spreading.

These vines were exceptionally tough, covered in razor-sharp thorns, and possessed paralytic toxins; their weakness, however, was fire.

Yet, Fang Senyan had yet to observe any proclivity for smoking or arson among the Zerg. Thus, even with conservative estimates, the Zerg would take at least ten minutes to clear this wall of vegetation, especially since the area provided abundant nourishment.

"This way," Fang Senyan instructed, turning into a fork in the passage and choosing the upward path. The hurried, uneven footsteps of the group echoed down the corridor.

Pontan, clad in his cumbersome, heavily reinforced SCV armor, walked shoulder-to-shoulder with him, his heavy metal boots striking the ground like hammers—Clang, clang, clang! He cut an imposing figure, radiating pride, and though his skull seemed packed entirely with muscle, his courage and daring were second to none.

They moved through the metallic under-passages of the Protoss base. The sound of their boots striking the metal surface, coupled with the knowledge that this area had remained untouched for ages, lent the hollow echoes a layer of indescribable antiquity.

Surprisingly, there was no dust, no spiderwebs, no cracks—nothing. Fang Senyan lightly brushed his fingers across the wall. The sensation of their long passage felt deeply strange; it was nothing like walking through a grand metal metropolis sealed for tens of thousands of years, but rather like a brand-new city, recently scoured by the clear spring water from the base of the glacier...

But the most unsettling mystery was this: they had yet to find a single corpse, nor any sign of active Protoss presence.

This vast city felt like a ghost town, a dead city!

"FUCK, this damned place is giving me the creeps!" Gilgissna exclaimed with characteristic hardiness, showing no ill effects from any stimulant usage.

However, the other three Marines had fallen into a post-exertion weakness phase. Even walking a few steps left them gasping weakly, looking as if they had just completed a ten-kilometer forced march in full gear, needing at least an hour or two to recover.

Turning a corner, they suddenly found the path ahead blocked—or rather, the intended path had not yet been constructed. This area appeared to be a chaotic construction site. Pontan, using his professional eye, estimated that at least ten Zealot Probes had been actively working here. The welding and bridging marks were still faintly visible, but the expected workers were nowhere to be found.

Everyone looked toward Fang Senyan, their gazes clearly inquiring whether they should turn back. But Pontan had already adopted a professional stance, tapping and testing various surfaces. Finally, he concluded with certainty, "The wall here is thin; a little effort should get us through."

With that, Pontan picked up his crystal-cutting welding torch and began to work. Soon, with Fang Senyan’s assistance, they carved another large hole. The end of this gap led into another section of tunnel under construction, clearly intended to connect with the passage they were currently in.

Though the other side was pitch black, no foul or stagnant air rushed out, indicating adequate ventilation. Fang Senyan took the lead, cautiously entering first. The last Marine to enter set a timed demolition charge, which detonated once they had cleared a sufficient distance. Since Fang Senyan had already forcefully compromised the support pillars, the resulting landslide completely blocked their path behind them, creating a collapse so violent that even the burrowing Zerg would find passage extremely difficult.

After walking for about another ten minutes, Fang Senyan pushed open a door—or rather, after three soft pushes, he kicked it open in impatience. They immediately realized they had emerged onto a street level.

The surface of the Protoss street was remarkably smooth. Although its structure was clearly metallic, the surface was overlaid with a layer of thick, smooth material resembling organic glass—sleek and polished, featuring the Protoss's characteristic flowing blue textures. On the wing-shaped seats lining the street, they could even see readers and helmets scattered on the ground, suggesting the catastrophe struck instantaneously. Furthermore, triangular levitating cargo carriers visible everywhere indicated this district had once been quite prosperous.

Fang Senyan silently surveyed the bizarre and desolate scene. He walked over to one of the wing-shaped seats, sat down, and simulated the Protoss gesture of resting their forehead against a pillar. He remained motionless for a moment, then suddenly stated, "I think I understand now. If that’s the case, it explains most things. But there are still a few critical discrepancies... which I suspect we will discover later."

Just then, the sound of explosions and fierce Zerg screeching drifted in from the distance—likely two or three kilometers away. However, due to the dense buildings and complex terrain, it would take some time before the conflict reached their immediate vicinity.

Fang Senyan quickly oriented himself. "Our target is the city center. Based on Protoss habits, the heart of the city will house altars and statues to their deities. Therefore, the more precious or revered something is, the closer it will be to the center or their 'gods'! Come on, follow me."