The hangar bay of the Jinwei Flame opened, unleashing hundreds of fighters, when suddenly, a violent explosion erupted from the main propulsion unit. The alloy armor seemed like mere tissue paper, ripped in two by the sheer force of the blast!

The entire hull fractured front to back, splitting into halves. Sparks erupted continuously from the severed edges, exposing the internal corridors, cabins, and various systems of the warship.

The vacuum of space acted like a colossal vacuum cleaner, periodically sucking out debris from the ship—crew members, personal effects, weapons, and more.

Not only that, but massive detonations continued to wrack the hull. Continuous explosions generated one after the other, each one growing in intensity.

After about a minute, the final, catastrophic explosion occurred. This was triggered by the ship's reactor losing containment, leading to a severe overload that pulverized both the forward and aft wreckage into shrapnel!

A colossal fireball engulfed the entire warship. The shockwave from the explosion raced outward into space, even sweeping up some of the fighters that hadn't managed to scramble clear of the hangar bay in time.

The Ghost fighters were far enough from the blast center that the impact was minimal. However, the blinding light from the reactor explosion, coupled with the accompanying radiation bursts, severely interfered with their sensor equipment, making it even harder for the pilots to keep pace with the fleeing Caesar Mercenary Corps fighters.

Still, they pressed the pursuit.

"It’s a good thing our net launchers are on the back; that’s what gave us a chance to escape. Judging by where the missiles came from just now, those cloaked fighters should be over a hundred kilometers ahead of us now. Chasing us at full throttle, it’s absolutely impossible for them to catch up," Kozmo mused among the two hundred-plus fleeing fighters.

Although he wasn't a pilot, he certainly knew how to handle a fighter craft.

When he had first seen nothing on the radar screens, yet missiles materialized from thin air, taking down his squadron's ships one by one, he instantly understood: the Tran Mercenary Corps possessed cloaking technology. They had deployed hundreds, perhaps thousands, of stealth fighters to assault his fleet.

Thus, he immediately resolved to flee.

During the final explosion just moments ago, his fighter was violently buffeted by the shockwave and nearly caught in the blast radius.

Yet, he considered himself lucky. Intelligence gathered from the radar indicated that every single fighter trailing him had been annihilated.

Before fleeing, he had instructed all his pilots to immediately seek out the other Laurel Fleet, led by the battlecruiser Iron Hammer, and relay everything that had transpired here.

"As long as a single fighter escapes, or one can break free of the jamming zone to warn the Iron Hammer, then our battle hasn't been a complete failure!"

He looked at the remaining two hundred-plus signals on his radar, his anxiety easing slightly.

Several kilometers behind him, the Ghost fighter squadron was closing in fast.

On the bridge, Yang Ying intently watched the radar returns relayed by the Observers, tracking the desperate pursuit of the Ghosts and the seemingly chaotic scattering of the fleeing enemy squadron.

He knew this chase was a critical test for the Ghosts. If they couldn't wipe out this enemy contingent within the active jamming zone, their carefully guarded cloaking technology would be exposed.

Having his possession of stealth technology become public knowledge wouldn't necessarily cause a fatal blow, but the ensuing complications would certainly become an exhausting hassle to manage.

"Some of those fighters are exceptionally fast," the Commodore-Captain pointed out, indicating two dozen bright contacts that had pulled significantly ahead on the radar. "Those fighters must belong to the Caesar Group, special craft built for pilots of superior skill. Their performance far surpasses the mass-produced models."

Bohr nodded, then shook his head. "However, we also possess specially modified Ghost fighters. Though, our numbers are likely fewer than Caesar's. Only pilots holding the rank of Colonel or above are equipped with these custom Ghosts."

Yang Ying counted them: there were exactly twenty-five of these exceptionally fast enemy fighters, clustered together, charging outward as a single unit, having already pulled significant distance ahead of the main body in the first minute or two of their flight.

A staff officer calculated their vector and reported to the Commodore-Captain: "Their trajectory indicates they are heading for the Ethereal Sector, aiming to rendezvous with another Laurel Fleet!"

"Calculate the time it will take for them to exit the jamming field," the Commodore-Captain commanded immediately.

"The fastest one needs twelve minutes and thirty-five seconds!" The staff officer manipulated the console, quickly establishing a computational model to determine the exit time for the lead aircraft.

"Project the visual onto the main screen so we can see clearly," the Commodore-Captain instructed.

"Yes, sir." The staff officer transferred the image to the screen.

Yang Ying looked up at the main screen. It displayed a deep blue background dotted with over two hundred small contacts moving outward in all directions. Surrounding them was a jamming area represented by a grid of small spheres, each sphere containing an Observer at its center.

In an empty space on the screen, a timer ticked, currently displaying twelve minutes and twenty-five seconds. A white line extended from the timer, pointing to the contact nearest the outer boundary of the spheres.

"Once they pass the outermost sphere, they exit our jamming field," the staff officer explained.

"Our jamming is emitted by the Observers, and since the Observers can move, the jamming field can also move," Bohr reminded them.

As if on cue, one of the spheres began to shift position.

The Commodore-Captain nodded. "Understood! It seems Howard calculates the same way. Although the mobility of the Observers is our advantage, it only buys us about five minutes of effective range."

Yang Ying smiled slightly. "Five minutes isn't insignificant. The rest depends on the pilots' performance."

Bohr heard this, his eyebrow twitched, and he offered a cryptic smile. "Let's hope so!"

The staff officer incorporated the movement of the Observers into the calculation; the predicted exit time shifted to seventeen minutes and six seconds.

Five minutes into the pursuit, the ten fastest modified Ghost fighters had caught up to the slower mass-produced enemy craft. They ignored those, passing them by to continue the chase.

Another five minutes elapsed, and they reached the twenty-five elite fighters ahead.

Only seven minutes and a fraction remained.

These twenty-five fighters formed a tight pyramid formation, one fighter leading the apex pointed directly forward, with six fighters aligned linearly along each of the four edges.

The ten specialized Ghost fighters, upon spotting the enemy ahead, simultaneously launched their proximity missiles. Twenty missiles instantly disrupted the Caesar fighters' tight formation.

However, these were Caesar's aces—pilots who were, at minimum, seasoned elite veterans. Any one of them could have made a name for themselves in the Asteroid Belt. Furthermore, they were flying specialized craft meticulously engineered by the Caesar Group.

Of the twenty missiles launched, only three Caesar fighters were successfully destroyed; the rest were evaded or detonated harmlessly by the enemy craft.

Seeing that proximity missiles were proving ineffective, the Ghost pilots switched to their Uranium Cannons.

But the veteran pilots of the Caesar Mercenary Corps were extremely vigilant, especially with cloaked fighters on their tail. They executed continuous rolls and direction changes, weaving an array of dazzling evasive maneuvers.

The Ghost fighters unleashed another salvo of proximity missiles. Four Caesar fighters suddenly reversed course, firing their Uranium Cannons back at the missile launch points.

One Ghost fighter was struck by a focused beam, then immediately executed an emergency evasive maneuver, avoiding the remaining attacks.

The Caesar fighters, however, fared worse. Seizing the opportunity, the other nine Ghost fighters unleashed a concentrated barrage from their Uranium Cannons, eliminating two of the four turning Caesar craft. A follow-up attack instantly destroyed the remaining two.

Just as the four fighters exploded, the proximity missiles slammed into the main Caesar formation. The Ghosts utilized their Uranium Cannons to disrupt the enemy's evasive actions, achieving remarkable success.

In this single engagement, a full five Caesar fighters were destroyed by proximity missiles, and two more vaporized by Uranium beams!

After the attack, eleven Caesar fighters remained, while one of the ten Ghost fighters sustained minor damage. Four minutes remained.

The Ghost fighters launched another missile volley, but the Caesar craft seemed to realize that clustering together meant certain annihilation. They instantly scattered, breaking off in all directions.

Although widely dispersed, their general trajectory still pointed toward the edge of the jamming zone. The Ghost fighters immediately broke formation as well, chasing the ten remaining Caesar craft.

On the bridge, Yang Ying clapped his hands in approval, watching the ferocity of the Ghost pilots. "Well done!"

"Brilliant!"

"Truly outstanding!"

"Push hard and wipe out every last one of those Caesar fighters!"

Everyone else on the bridge shared his sentiment, voicing their agreement.

Yang Ying glanced at the timer: three minutes left.

Both the pursuers and the pursued commanded extremely capable fighters. Even discounting the stealth advantage, the custom Ghost fighters still held a slight edge in performance. However, once the engagement devolved into one-on-one duels, the lack of coordinated support slightly diminished their overall combat efficiency.

Two minutes flashed by with no confirmed kills.

But during the third minute, the ten Caesar fighters being tailed suddenly seemed to run out of tricks; they were eliminated one by one.

Only the very last Caesar fighter managed to put significant distance between itself and the Ghosts while they were occupied dispatching its comrades. It reached the very edge of the jamming zone!

The timer steadily counted down, entering the final ten seconds.

"Can't catch it?" Yang Ying frowned. "Must we rely on that fighter failing to realize communications are restored the moment it leaves the jam zone, thereby granting the Ghosts more time?"

"Even if that happens, we've lost," the Commodore-Captain stated. "While victory in war is often built upon the enemy's mistakes, we cannot place our hopes on them slipping up."

Three seconds. Two seconds...

"Let me just say," Bohr announced excitedly, "I already knew what was going to happen in the next second."

One second...

The Caesar fighter was almost perfectly superimposed on the edge of the jamming field!

Bang!

A missile suddenly shot out from beyond the jamming field toward the enemy craft. The fighter initiated an evasive roll, but the missile detonated prematurely. An invisible shockwave propagated outward.

The fighter sputtered electric sparks; its engine, weapons, communication systems—everything—powered down completely.

Bohr smacked his lips. "You know, a single Boron missile is quite expensive. To use it against a mere fighter... well, I suppose it was worth it."