The bridge of the Number One ship was awash in the glow of screens, where fighter jets streaked across the inky black canvas of space like wisps of smoke trailing a solitary fox.

The battle group contained over ten thousand fighters. It was the first time Yang Ying had witnessed a battlefield of such immense scale, with so many lives vanishing before his eyes, leaving him with a profoundly complex sensation.

Within the fighter battle group, some aircraft possessed remarkably elegant designs and superior performance; these belonged to the military fleet. Yet, they were not the standard military Night Owl or Dragon series; these were the exclusive fighters of the Psions.

Though fewer than twenty of them were present, they swept through the battlefield seemingly unstoppable. Even the Viper fighters appeared as fragile as paper before them.

After all, most pilots in the Viper fighters were merely apprentice-level High Apes.

Due to innate limitations, it was far more difficult for High Apes to break past the apprentice level than it was for Psions. Many High Apes remained at the apprentice level for their entire lives, with no possibility of advancement, and thus they ended up on the battlefield.

Although Yang Ying’s hands never ceased their motion, guiding the Hammer-Shot Cannon to fire upon enemy warships, his mind had drifted from the immediate conflict, traveling back through the river of history to recall the accounts he had read of the era when the Psion Temple was established.

Awakened ones possessed far too many advantages over ordinary humans: superior physical function and coordination, brains that absorbed knowledge faster, more resilient immune systems, and miraculous supernatural powers. In every aspect, baseline humans could only look up at the Awakened, akin to primitive peoples gazing upon modern man.

Three centuries ago, when the existence of Awakened ones was first acknowledged, many believed they represented a more evolved humanity, whose presence was enough to transform human society and propel it toward a new zenith.

But the inertia of human society rejected change. This conservative force, deeply rooted in human nature, ultimately transformed into a butcher’s cleaver of slaughter.

The dazzling brilliance of the Awakened drew the envy of ordinary people. The entirety of human society began to persecute the Awakened under the pretext that "those who are not of our kind must have different intentions." Countless politicians pandered to this sentiment for their own advancement, fueling the fire until the Awakened were driven to the precipice.

Innumerable societal elites were murdered by heavily armed terrorists. Even those who escaped death through their formidable strength had to live in perpetual caution, hiding from the malice of society, daring not to display their talents.

During that time, Awakened ones dared not whisper their secrets even to their closest kin or dearest friends. Anyone could betray them, and once discovered, the only prospect was endless pursuit.

Many nations enacted laws stripping the Awakened of their rightful powers, persecuting them in ways reminiscent of the Nazis targeting Jews—and often exceeding those measures.

According to historical records, some extremist organizations even imprisoned Awakened individuals in research facilities for dissection and vivisection, desperately seeking to unlock the mysteries of Psionic energy.

Some Awakened individuals became cynical due to these atrocities, developing endless hatred for baseline humans. They channeled their power into the flames of vengeance, slaying a hundred or a thousand times more ordinary people in retaliation. This action, in turn, only intensified the hatred between the two factions, causing the conflict to drag on relentlessly.

This horrifying cycle repeated year after year, shattering countless families when a member suddenly Awakened. Only with the founding of the Psion Temple did this cruel reality reach its peak and begin to recede.

The Psion Temple in those days was not the peaceful sanctuary it is now. With society viewing all Awakened with visceral hostility, the Awakened could not protect themselves without fighting.

Therefore, the Awakened had no choice but to fight!

At that time, Master-level experts forged in the crucible of slaughter possessed limitless destructive capacity. They could enter and exit any location freely, impossible to corner and destroy; even fully armed armies could not stop a Master’s assassination. Countless politicians who advocated for hardline measures against the Awakened died in their homes, workplaces, inside their vehicles, and in all manner of secluded places.

What set the Psion Temple apart from those embittered, vengeful Awakened was that the slaughter orchestrated by the Temple was calculated, purposeful, restrained, and aimed at predictable outcomes—it was controlled destruction, not mere venting.

This campaign of controlled killing continued until not a single politician dared to stand against the Awakened, and no nation dared to retain laws that discriminated against them.

The Psion Temple paved a path to survival for the Awakened with bones.

Subsequently, the Psion Temple established methods of self-restraint to regulate the behavior of the Awakened, creating a deliberate separation between the world of the Awakened and that of baseline humanity.

Several generations passed before the ideology of discriminating against the Awakened gradually calmed.

Through decades of development, the Psion Temple refined its various ethical codes, gathering vast numbers of Awakened. Under the guidance of several dozen Master-level experts, they synthesized a complete understanding of the Psionic Way, from which the Psions emerged.

Psions steadfastly adhered to a life of ascetic cultivation, isolated from human society, until the war against the Ancient Legion erupted half a century ago. The Apes became humanity's primary foe, drawing the full spectrum of human hatred onto themselves. Only then did the Psions emerge from their seclusion to join the war effort.

A sharp alarm jolted Yang Ying from his reverie.

“Sir, the Gangdi Fleet has dispatched its First Flight Wing toward Space City!” an aide shouted.

“Intelligence suggests the First Flight Wing is the Gangdi Fleet's elite unit, led by a Near-Master and including many Upper High Apes. Their combat effectiveness cannot be underestimated,” Howard stated slowly.

“But Space City is protected by the Twelfth Fleet,” a staff officer questioned doubtfully. “Surely an entire fleet is more than a match for a flight wing of just under three hundred fighters?”

Howard stepped forward, clapping him on the shoulder, and smiled. “Howard, how could the Gangdi Emperor not consider what you just thought of? That flight wing is likely a trick. Transfer the physical imagery to me.”

The aide immediately brought up the visual feed. A dense formation of aircraft was visible, hurtling toward Space City. Surprisingly, the small cluster consisted entirely of Viper fighters, not a single other type among them.

The physical image was captured from above, showing only the fighters' backs, revealing nothing of their undersides.

“It seems normal,” the aide murmured.

Howard frowned, pondering. “Change the angle.”

The aide shifted the viewing perspective. Since the physical image was captured by an observer, changing the observer's position yielded different viewpoints.

The aircraft formation on the screen gradually rotated, moving from a rear view to a profile view.

Still, nothing amiss could be detected.

“Rotate it a full three hundred and sixty degrees,” Howard commanded next.

The lens swung from the side to the belly, then to the opposite side, and finally returned to the rear view.

After a full revolution, the problem remained hidden.

“This indicates the issue isn't on the surface, but internal,” Howard stated slowly, his fingers tapping a rhythm, betraying deep thought.

“If it were you, how would you use a flight wing of three hundred to attack Space City while ensuring you gained maximum attention?” Yang Ying pressed the fire button on his Hammer-Shot Cannon again, speaking simultaneously.

Sometimes, thinking from another’s perspective proved highly useful.

“If it were me?” Howard snapped his fingers suddenly. “Nuclear weapons! Only by creating enough destructive force to draw Admiral Alexander’s attention could the pressure on the Gangdi Fleet be alleviated. Viper missiles can carry nuclear warheads; the exterior of the missile would show no anomalies.”

“It must be nuclear warheads,” Yang Ying sighed, turning to the aide beside him. “Ask Admiral Alexander if they’ve already reached the same conclusion.”

At that moment, the Psions’ fighters within the battle group seemed to receive an unspoken command. They uniformly banked and broke away from the main engagement, accelerating toward Space City.

Moments later, the aide reported, “Admiral Alexander believes a nuclear strike by the Gangdi is highly probable. He has already dispatched our Psions to support Space City. Furthermore, he requests Colonel Blade join the support contingent.”

Yang Ying nodded slightly. “So be it. Those Viper fighters are slower than the specialized Ghost fighters. Blade should still have time to catch up.”

Within the battle group, Blade suddenly activated the common channel to address all Ghost fighters. “I’m leaving momentarily. Follow your respective squadron commanders’ orders, and retreat if necessary.”

“Yes!” came the chorus of acknowledgment over the comms.

Blade whipped his fighter around, executing a series of sharp maneuvers to exit the battle group, then engaged maximum speed, racing toward the cluster of Space Cities.

Nuclear warheads possessed immense destructive power, but their utility in the vastness of the cosmic battlefield, where distances spanned thousands of kilometers, was limited. Fast fighters could often escape the blast radius within seconds.

Sometimes, the nuclear detonation would occur behind them while they fled ahead; the shockwave spread slower than their escape velocity.

For this reason, nuclear weapons were rarely used in space warfare.

Their greatest value lay only in attacking fixed targets, such as Space Cities, fortresses, or planets.

Meanwhile, the Gangdi Fleet, under siege from ten thousand fighters, was forced to deploy all its remaining carrier-based aircraft, coordinating with the warships’ anti-air defenses to create a barrage net.

Destroyers and frigates were established precisely for moments like this. These medium and small warships carried numerous missile launch tubes, using saturation missile fire to defend against fighters—a tactic far more effective than anti-air cannons.

Anti-air cannons generally consisted of Level One or Level Two uranium cannons, layered densely across the hulls of large or super-large warships. Every vessel carried hundreds of these guns, capable of inflicting massive damage on fighters.

As the ten thousand enemy fighters entered the Gangdi Fleet's anti-air envelope, the engagement reached a stalemate.

The Gangdi Fleet was left with only about three thousand fighters for defense, but they held the home-field advantage. For the time being, the combined fleet’s fighter swarm had no easy way to crack this metallic hedgehog.