The Land Marines were ordered to charge through the crowd, pushing those around them aside as they advanced, yet carefully avoiding shoving people so hard as to cause a panic.

Still, they quickly carved a path. Ordinary people simply couldn't match the force of powered armor, and the Marines weren't fighting the entire mass of people, only concentrating their efforts in one direction to tear a rift through the throng.

Gradually, a green corridor opened within the crowd.

Blade dispatched another squad of Land Marines to the far end of the green corridor to maintain order and disperse any lingering civilians.

A short while later, the first wave of women and children began running back through the corridor, their faces alight with relief and joy. They repeatedly offered thanks as they hurried past the standing Marines.

Blade could see a small yellow flower land on the head of one of the Land Marines.

Evacuation of the various colonies was underway. Beyond Jupiter, the Emperor's fleet had gained two patrol flotillas. The patrol fleets of the Ancient Legion were only one-fifth the size of the main battle fleet, and their commanders were typically Quasi-Masters, lacking Apes Masters.

However, with this reinforcement, the Emperor's confidence surged. He immediately moved within range of the Allied Fleet, and the two sides opened fire in a massive artillery exchange.

Artillery duels between the main fleets in the Sol system generally occurred at distances of around one hundred thousand kilometers. Although Uranium Cannons had a range exceeding a million kilometers, targeting systems lacked that level of precision; one hundred thousand kilometers was considered the limit of their accuracy.

Of course, even at that range, a direct hit was not guaranteed. Because the beam of light had to traverse one hundred thousand kilometers, an angular difference of just one thousandth of a degree at the point of firing translated to an error margin of nearly a kilometer at the target. This error alone exceeded the length of the largest battleships in the Sol system.

Furthermore, the warships were piloted by sentient beings, not just inert stones waiting to be struck.

Both Human and Ape warships were equipped with radar-locking warning systems. Once locked by an enemy's weapon system, there was always time to initiate emergency evasive maneuvers.

Due to these cumulative factors, achieving an accurate strike on an enemy in space was never a simple matter.

At that moment, on the bridge of the Face flagship, a piercing alarm suddenly blared, and flickering red lights bathed the entire command center in a bloody hue.

"Captain, we've been locked!" a staff officer shouted to Howard.

"Activate port thrusters, emergency evasion!" Howard sat firmly in the command chair, his voice remarkably steady, as if entirely unconcerned by their ship being targeted.

The several thrusters on the port side of the Number One simultaneously fired at full power, shoving the battleship to the starboard. Almost simultaneously, two streams of Level Five energy beams sliced past the ship, vanishing into the void. I realize there’s no dust in space, so light doesn't scatter, and you can't actually see these shots, but an unseen battle lacks narrative interest. Readers, please imagine you can see them.

Howard slapped the armrest, unconcerned. "A trifle. Find the firing vessel, transmit the coordinates to the Number Two and Number Three, and prepare a combined barrage. Give them a taste of our return fire!"

Yang Ying smiled slightly, rubbing his hands together as he manipulated the control console. His hands moved with blinding speed, becoming streaks of afterimage.

Since Howard occupied the Captain's chair, Yang Ying was seated at the main cannon operator's station, effectively taking the gunner's place.

It was rare for any warship to have an operator of the Upper Mind-Energy Practitioner level manning the guns.

The cognitive abilities, reaction speeds, and manual dexterity of a Mind-Energy Practitioner far surpassed those of ordinary people, making their ability to operate weaponry vastly superior. The main issue was their scarcity, and assigning one as a mere gunner was often seen as a waste of talent.

Rows of data streamed across the optical screen before Yang Ying. His expression was focused, his eyes darting left and right, memorizing the data sets.

By using the counter-tracking feature of the radar-locking warning system, Yang Ying located the Ape warship that had fired upon them—a Tyrannosaurus class heavy cruiser from the patrol flotilla, armed with six Level Five Uranium Cannons, two more than the Number One.

This Tyrannosaurus appeared on Yang Ying’s screen encircled by a glowing ring. At the center of the screen, several overlapping geometric targeting graphics were displayed, surrounded by calibration marks for reference.

A continuous line connected the exact center of the screen to the Tyrannosaurus, with a parameter indicating the line's length. This line was steadily shrinking, indicating the targeting process was advancing.

Suddenly, the harsh alarm sounded once more; the Tyrannosaurus had re-acquired their lock.

"Activate ventral thrusters, emergency evasion!" Howard immediately commanded.

Several jets of gas erupted from the Number One's underside, propelling the ship upward instantly, evading the incoming attack.

The sudden change in direction disrupted Yang Ying’s process of locking onto the enemy, causing the connecting line to lengthen significantly. However, he corrected quickly. Within seconds, the Tyrannosaurus was centered within the targeting reticle on the screen. The lines across the entire display suddenly intensified in brightness.

Simultaneously with the lock, Yang Ying shouted, "Lock confirmed!"

"Fire!" Howard yelled almost at the same instant.

Yang Ying pressed two green firing studs. The main cannons of the Number One illuminated at the muzzle ends, and after a second of energy buildup, they launched two brilliant beams directly toward the target.

However, in that brief second, the Tyrannosaurus reacted, executing an emergency maneuver.

The Number Two and Number Three opened fire slightly later, unleashing a total of four beams toward their opponent. The enemy Tyrannosaurus executed three sharp course changes within a few seconds, evading most of the beams, but one beam from the Number Two grazed its edge, costing it two main cannons and several secondary weapons.

Just managing a graze on the first pass was acceptable, Yang Ying nodded, and returned to his console.

The two firing studs he had just pressed now glowed red—indicating the main cannons were recharging and unable to fire.

Firing the main cannons required a cycle of charging, focusing, launching, cooling, and then recharging. The interval between successive shots was approximately thirty seconds.

Originally, the main cannons of these three Face warships could not sustain this firing rate. They were already one or two generations behind in design, and their Uranium Cannon technology was over a decade old.

When Yang Ying’s mercenary unit acquired them, the interval between shots was at least a full minute. Fortunately, their superior technical skills allowed them to modify and upgrade these cannons to their current state.

A frequency of one shot every thirty seconds actually surpassed the rate of the most advanced Level Five cannons currently operating in the Sol system.

Yang Ying’s hands blurring over the console, the optical screen once again enclosed the Tyrannosaurus. Once the vessel was grasped by the targeting box, Yang Ying immediately called out, "Lock again!"

"Fire," Howard stated.

Yang Ying instantly slammed the other two firing studs. The two main cannons immediately began to charge, their muzzles glowing, and launched another pair of brilliant beams toward the target.

The Number Two and Number Three did not fire simultaneously; their gunners were not as swift as Yang Ying, and they had not yet re-acquired a lock on the enemy.

The two beams from the Number One sliced through space, slamming hard into the Tyrannosaurus's hull!

This time, although the Tyrannosaurus attempted to dodge, the maneuver actually placed it more directly in the path of the beams.

Originally, due to minute angular variations, the beams from the Number One would have missed their intended location by a small margin after crossing the hundred-thousand-kilometer distance. However, as the Tyrannosaurus dodged, it moved precisely in the direction of that slight deviation, resulting in a direct collision with the beam.

It must be said, the battlefield was ever-changing; any eventuality was possible.

Following this, the Number Two and Number Three also locked onto the heavily damaged Tyrannosaurus. Four more beams struck, one missed, and the remaining three slammed into the enemy ship. Several other vessels in the Allied Fleet had also spotted the crippled Tyrannosaurus and joined in the action to beat a dog while it was down.

Instantly, a barrage of energy beams hammered the Tyrannosaurus. In less than half a minute, it was reduced to cosmic scrap.

On the bridge of the Dragon King class battlecruiser, the Emperor saw the Tyrannosaurus obliterated on his screen. He pressed his armrest and stood up. "What is the status of the Second Flight Wing?"

An Ape staff officer called out over the comms channel for a moment, then shook his head. "Negative, Commander. Every sub-squadron has been intercepted by the Humans. They have too many fighters. They have already lost seventy percent of their strength, and the remainder cannot possibly break through the Human defenses to raid the colonies."

The Vice-Commander was highly dissatisfied and demanded loudly, "What about the Wing Commander? He is a High-Level expert. Can he not break through the Human defenses either?"

"The Wing Commander lost contact with us moments ago. He has likely been eliminated by the Humans," the staff officer replied.

"Damn it! The Humans have pitifully few Mind-Energy Practitioners. How could his luck be so terrible? Attacking a colony and running into a Human even stronger than himself!" The Vice-Commander roared, slamming a fist onto the console. Fortunately, he remembered which ship he was on and restrained his strength.

The Emperor raised a hand, halting the Vice-Commander’s tirade. His eyes narrowed sharply. "We underestimated these Humans. They actually managed to stop the breakthrough attempt by the Second Flight Wing. If that is the case, there's no need for us to fight an uphill battle. We will withdraw for now!"

The Vice-Commander was shocked. "Commander, we haven't lost yet! We can send in the First Flight Wing to test them. They are the elite of the elite, boasting ten experts at the Upper-Level, and their commander possesses Quasi-Master strength. We can equip them with nuclear payloads to strike those Human colonies and eliminate all the civilians, creating massive chaos!"

"What benefit would that bring us?" the Emperor dismissed the Vice-Commander’s suggestion without a second thought. "We need to tie down this Human Allied Fleet here, buying time for our reinforcements to arrive. Once our full force is assembled, we will crush them in one go and deal another devastating blow to Human resistance. The strategic value of Human civilians is negligible compared to the Allied Fleet! Even if we reduce the colonies to rubble, it only removes a burden from the Human fleet and lets us complete our objective faster."

The Vice-Commander instantly understood, lowering his head. "My apologies, Lord Emperor. I was impulsive."

The Emperor nodded, flicking his cloak, and strode back to his command seat like a tiger. "Even if all the civilians evacuate to the Space Cities, that is still beneficial to us. Space Cities are fragile shells that explode easily. If the Allied Fleet has to protect the Space Cities, they cannot utilize their full strength; every movement will be constrained by the safety of the civilians. We only need to wait; the scales of victory will tip in our favor."

"As you command!" The Vice-Commander was overjoyed, turning to shout at the Ape staff officers, "The Commander has decreed: withdraw."