In the nebulous expanse that held the legendary ruins whispered of by the ancients of the Star Sea, a colossal warship approached the sea of clouds at near-light speed. A dense swarm of vessels, varying in size, clung tightly to its wake. The very posture of the pursuers suggested they would not rest until the ship ahead was overtaken.

Impossible. The pursuing fleet was clearly inferior in speed. They were rapidly falling behind, the distance between them widening into a yawning gap.

As the target vessel plunged into the cloud sea, the entire fleet slowed. This nebula was notorious, a graveyard where countless brilliant explorers had been swallowed whole since time immemorial.

The fleet dared not follow. They maintained a cautious perimeter watch. Months later, the warship that had entered the cloud sea remained nowhere in sight.

That solitary vessel, in this starless region that offered no return, was most likely destroyed.

This alliance, forged by a dozen nations, harbored mutual distrust; it existed only under the shadow of immense threat. They could not remain stationed here forever. With the immediate peril gone, the union naturally dissolved.

Though a few suspected the fearsome entity had not vanished so easily, their voices were too faint. The loose coalition was destined to crumble.

The saga truly began more than two months prior, when a small nation near the nebula was annihilated by a single warship.

Ordinarily, such an event unfolded daily in the Star Sea, meriting little more than a passing glance.

What made this different was the perpetrator’s intent. The ship’s master neither claimed the nation nor seized the planet. Instead, the entire populace was expelled, and the crucial oxygen-rich habitat chambers were systematically destroyed.

This was an outrage! The Star Sea possessed no native habitable worlds; civilization depended on constructing sealed habitats on dead spheres, carving out spaces for survival. Now, someone had demolished their very existence. Every soul in the Star Sea would view this individual as a public enemy.

While indignation was strong, without tangible self-interest, compelling the rulers of various nations to dispatch forces against this public foe was impossible. Everyone preferred to sweep their own doorstep clean, so long as the trouble didn't spill over.

But matters rarely remained that simple. Ten days later, the warship reappeared. This time, it destroyed three nations in quick succession. Again, the habitat chambers on those planets were utterly ruined.

A mere ten days after that, the warship struck again. This time, the number of destroyed nations reached ten.

This finally sent a jolt of panic through all neighboring states. Each ruler was consumed by anxiety, fearing that the god of slaughter might turn his attention toward them next. They each intensified their defenses.

Another fortnight passed, and the slaughter god returned. Thirty nations fell this time, leaving the region surrounding the nebula almost entirely swept clean.

Under this intense pressure of crisis, the nations slightly further from the nebula, those yet untouched, united and dispatched a desperate plea for aid to the suzerain state, the Nation of Aier.

Ten days later, the slaughter god appeared right on schedule. This time, his blade pointed directly toward Aier, sparing none of the nations in his path. He slaughtered his way to Aier’s very doorstep before abruptly withdrawing.

In this single campaign, over a hundred nations were extinguished. Countless displaced citizens flocked to surrounding countries, seeking refuge.

When the news reached Aier, their fury was incandescent. They immediately mobilized their elite forces, uniting with nearby subordinate states to assemble a colossal fleet unprecedented in history, swearing to eradicate the slaughter god and wash away the humiliation in blood.

They waited like stones by a rabbit hole. After ten-odd days, the slaughter god appeared, but he did not drive straight into the fleet’s encirclement. Instead, he bypassed them, shaking them off with transcendent speed, continuing his path of national destruction.

After a chase spanning more than ten days, the allied fleet finally caught up to the slaughter god, whose momentum had been slowed by the sheer effort of his conquests. Relying on sheer numbers, they sought to annihilate him.

But the slaughter god proved remarkably agile, managing to slip the net once more. However, the combined fleet’s commander was no fool. Maintaining the encirclement, he managed to drive the enemy ship out of Aier’s sovereign space, pursuing it all the way to the legendary nebula.

The slaughter god finally vanished. The allied fleet disbanded, its members returning to their respective homelands. Yet, the legend of the slaughter god began to spread throughout the Star Sea. Such a maniacal being was truly the public enemy of all Star Sea inhabitants.

Simultaneously, a grudging admiration grew for the slaughter god’s sheer power. Rumor held that he commanded a "Count-class" warship, but more terrifying was his seemingly endless supply of high-grade mechs. In every engagement, the Count-class vessel never engaged directly; it simply submerged the enemy beneath a sea of millions of mechs.

Needless to say, that slaughter god was Zhong Yun, primarily driven by the need to accumulate Contribution Points. Over the span of a month, he had amassed an operational force of over a million mechs—truly capable of crushing gods and buddhas alike.

His Contribution Points had long surpassed ten thousand, granting him Level Four clearance, which included the authority to utilize Spatial Jumps. However, the energy required for these jumps had to be supplied by him.

To jump back to the dimension inhabited by the Cosmic Civilization required one hundred billion units of energy. This was an astronomical sum; even for Davo, accumulating such wealth might take a millennium.

Zhong Yun ransacked every corner of his assets. The energy blocks left by the previous owner of the Mercury—plus what he had plundered from the Beast Nations—amounted to roughly ten billion units of energy.

Even this meager hoard was enough to make him the envy of a Third Stage nation within an Intermediate Civilization.

In the Cosmic Civilization, energy blocks were hard currency, usable everywhere for direct exchange. The wealth inherited aboard the Mercury was, quite frankly, enough to rival a kingdom.

Provided he avoided frequent combat, this energy reserve alone could sustain him for a century.

Under normal circumstances, gathering one hundred billion units of energy was an impossible quest. But Zhong Yun possessed an energy block production line, which changed everything.

When pushed to maximum output, the production line in Sector Three could generate ten energy blocks per day, equating to eighty million units of energy.

To secure the remaining ninety billion, it would still take over a thousand days—more than three years.

Zhong Yun could not afford such a wait. He desperately sought alternatives. Sector Four was busy manufacturing four-star mechs and various high-grade components, which were temporarily useless.

After deep thought, he set his sights on the nations of the Star Sea. These nations, in order to maintain the daily operation of their oxygen habitats, burned through massive amounts of energy. Coupled with their constant warfare, their demand for resources was immense. In fact, their stockpiles of energy blocks were far greater than those held by nations in the Omi System.

The last time Zhong Yun raided the Beast Nation’s treasury, he acquired nearly one billion units of energy blocks. It had to be admitted that, from another perspective, the nations of the Star Sea were exceptionally wealthy. Even a minor state here was richer than Davo, which controlled thirteen administrative planets.

Thus, Zhong Yun began his campaign of national destruction. When conquering a nation, he would leave only one-tenth of the energy blocks for the migrating populace; he confiscated the rest.

In just six sorties, Zhong Yun annihilated nearly three hundred nations, seizing over a hundred billion units of energy blocks in total. He also gained sixty thousand Contribution Points—a spectacular harvest.

Even being chased to the brink of annihilation by the massive fleet—exceeding ten thousand vessels—assembled by the Nation of Aier, it was all worth it. As for the dispossessed peoples, he could only offer a quiet, internal apology.

The Mercury, laden with energy blocks, flew into the base. Zhong Yun immediately summoned everyone. The two million-plus souls were transferred to the Mars, which had been emptied in preparation. They were ready for the Spatial Jump.

The departure point for the jump was Sector Eight. Led by a small scout craft, the Mercury and the Mars navigated toward the designated area.

In the main control room of the Mercury, Chu Tiange and Ming Yunyu sat below, their tension palpable. After being stranded here for several years, the prospect of returning home was finally real. A complex wave of emotion washed over them—excitement mixed with a faint thread of dread.

Zhong Yun brought everyone along; not a single soul was left behind at the base. The facility, built by the Lansen Empire, was too vital to risk any unforeseen issues.

The journey was slow. Ten hours later, the scout ship ahead finally halted. They had arrived at a cavernous space, larger even than the repair bay used for the Jupiter. The Mercury and the Mars appeared minuscule within it.

“Welcome to the Transfer Chamber. Please shut down your vessel engines. The Spatial Jump will commence in one hour,” a woman’s voice sounded in Zhong Yun’s ear.

The escorting scout detached itself and departed. A moment later, two colossal metal bulkheads sealed shut, isolating the space.

Peering through the sensor display, Zhong Yun observed that the chamber was circular, its total volume almost the size of a planet like Wolr.

Zhong Yun complied, cutting power to the Mercury. Across the way, the Mars also went dark. He had already transferred energy blocks to the Mainframe, paying the one hundred billion units of energy. He was left with over a billion—more than enough for contingencies.

They waited in silence. An hour was not long, but the tension made it an agony. Except for the ignorant natives of the Star Sea, the survivors of the Pearl were overwhelmingly agitated and anxious, wishing the transfer would start immediately so they could race back home.

The passage of time obeyed no human will; it neither hurried nor lagged, stubbornly proceeding according to the fixed rhythm of eons.

The hour finally elapsed. All instruments aboard the Mercury and the Mars powered down. The occupants of both ships were plunged into darkness, and the gravity floor ceased to function. Zhong Yun had issued strict orders: everyone must remain secured in their quarters with safety harnesses engaged. Thus, the sudden change caused minimal disruption.

Zhong Yun pulled the restraint latch behind his chair, fastening himself securely in place.

“Transfer will commence in three minutes. Repeating: Transfer will commence in three minutes. To prevent any unforeseen incidents, please ensure all vessel instruments are deactivated…”

As the Mainframe counted down, Zhong Yun closed his eyes and silently murmured: Yunqi, I’m home.

With the Mainframe’s announcement, “Transfer initiated,” Zhong Yun felt the ship shudder violently. The vibration intensified until it seemed the entire Mercury might disintegrate. Then came a sensation of being torn apart, as if every cell in his body were trying to flee its mooring.

He even had the bizarre sensation that his body was being decomposed into its constituent particles.

After an unknown duration—which felt both like a century and an instant—all sensation ceased.

Zhong Yun opened his eyes to absolute blackness.

“Did… did we make it?” a voice queried, tinged with uncertainty. It was Zeng Xiaosan.

Zhong Yun unlatched his restraint and pressed a control panel. Dim light gradually flooded the main control room. “Is everyone alright?”

“Yes, everyone seems fine.” Chu Tiange’s eyes swept over the assembled crew. They all appeared relatively stable.

“We’re back in the Omi System?” George sounded incredulous.

“We don’t know yet.” Zhong Yun’s fingers flew across the console, inputting a string of commands. His hands trembled slightly from tension.

He had shut down all systems on the Mercury earlier; restarting them now required manual operation.

Power system online. Gravity system online. Air circulation system… As each system rebooted, the crew’s tension ratcheted higher. Had the Spatial Jump succeeded?

The stellar map activated, displaying only blank space. Zhong Yun swallowed hard, his fist clenching quietly. After a moment, he said in a low voice, “Engage the Spatial Sensor. Send a signal to Qiyun Star.”

Zhong Yun stared intently at the icon representing the “Spatial Sensor” on the main screen. The tiny symbol began to flicker.

His grip tightened. In his mind, the mantra repeated: It must succeed. It must succeed…

Beep. The icon suddenly illuminated steadily. Zhong Yun felt a powerful blow to his chest, and a flush rose to his face.

“Success…” he murmured, his body shaking slightly, unable to fully process it.

“Success?” Everyone stared at him, their hearts in their throats, echoing his word.

“Transmission successful, transmission successful!” Zhong Yun’s voice grew louder. “We’re back! We’re back in the Omi System!” The final words were almost a roar.

It was as if a bomb had detonated among them. Everyone nearly cried out in joyous abandon. “We’re back! We’re finally back…” They dissolved into rapturous euphoria.

In the Star Sea, the Spatial Sensor was useless; sending even a single verifiable message implied they had returned to the Omi System.

“Huh?” Zhong Yun suddenly uttered a sound of surprise, his eyes fixed on the main screen, as if he had spotted something unexpected.

“What is it? Don’t tell me there’s a complication?” Wang Xiao’er noticed his change in demeanor, his brow furrowing instantly. They couldn't let this joy be for nothing.

“This is not the Omi System,” Zhong Yun’s voice sounded heavy.

The noise in the main control room instantly died. They looked at Zhong Yun in stunned silence, the smiles on their faces slowly freezing. Hearing those words, their hearts sank halfway to despair.

“Are we still in the Star Sea?” George’s face was ashen, his voice laced with infinite bitterness.

How he longed to return home! His wife, his sons and daughters, waited for him in the Yanbin Empire. How devastated they must be after hearing the Pearl was lost. He yearned to fly back immediately, to let them know he was safe.

But now, that was merely a distant fantasy.

A near-despairing oppression settled over the main control room.

Meanwhile, Xiao Ling, which had entered a brief shutdown, rebooted and took control of the Mars.

The Mars held over two million people, requiring a massive intake of air. The prolonged shutdown of the air circulation system had already caused some degree of oxygen deprivation. Fortunately, Xiao Ling woke up in time.

Just as Zhong Yun was about to speak on the Mercury, he received an urgent warning from Xiao Ling. He frowned, boosting the sensor output to maximum. In his earlier excitement, he had nearly forgotten to scan their surroundings—a lapse that could have been fatal without Xiao Ling’s alert.

Indeed, the detector displayed a colossal fleet. Its sheer size and density stunned Zhong Yun.

Based on vessel volume, assuming they were not specialized transports, these ships were comparable in class to the Mars. There were over a thousand of them. Among them were larger warships; while perhaps a tier below the Mercury, they were formidable nonetheless. There were over fifty of these larger vessels.

The Mars was a "Satellite-class" warship, a class only Intermediate Civilization, Third Stage nations could manufacture. "Quasi-Planetary-class" ships were reserved for nations at the Fifth Stage of Intermediate Civilization.

One thousand Satellite-class warships, fifty Quasi-Planetary-class vessels, plus perhaps fifty ships of even higher capability—this force was sufficient to sweep clean an entire sector of an Intermediate Civilization.

An unwelcome arrival rarely comes bearing gifts. Zhong Yun instantly elevated his caution to the highest level. This was the first time he had encountered vessels of a comparable threat level; he could not afford his usual ease. If this fleet harbored ill intent and detected him, his end would be certain.

The enemy ships were moving at high velocity, while the Mercury remained stationary. Given their comparable class and proximity—only a few hundred thousand kilometers apart—escape was impossible.

Fortunately, Zhong Yun’s innate caution had prompted him to activate the stealth system from the outset; otherwise, they would certainly have been discovered.

“A fleet has appeared,” Zhong Yun stated, his expression profoundly grave. His demeanor instantly infected the others. They had never seen such a look on his face. They realized the enemy they faced must be immensely powerful.

“Everyone prepare yourselves. Although they haven't spotted us yet, my instinct tells me these are not friendly parties.”

“Who are they?” Chu Tiange quickly regained his composure. Even during their sedentary time at the base, he hadn't let his training lapse, immersing himself in ‘War Simulation’ drills whenever possible.

“Unknown. They are closing on us,” Zhong Yun replied, his brows knitting into a tight knot as he tracked the main screen.

Both the Mercury and the Mars possessed exceptional stealth capabilities; when stationary, the chance of detection was low unless the observer was extremely close.

When the enemy fleet was still thirty-odd thousand kilometers away, their speed gradually decreased. Several hundred vessels detached from the main formation, dispersing outward.

The main control room fell silent, the atmosphere thick with suppression.

“Are we still in the Star Sea?” Ming Yunyu suddenly asked.

“No,” Zhong Yun replied offhandedly, his eyes locked on the main screen as he processed possibilities. What exactly were they doing?

“No?” Not just Ming Yunyu, everyone paused in surprise.

“Then where are we now?”

P: Another week has passed, requesting some votes.