※ Truthfully, the Edict Plan held no intention of exterminating the entire Micasar lineage. After all, powerful families endure for millennia, like a centipede that won't truly die even when stepped on; eradicating all their descendants would take an immense amount of time and far too much investment. Yang Ying had no desire for a protracted war. However, thoroughly cleansing the high command of this family and installing a moderate faction to guide its future trajectory was necessary.

At this moment, in the central conference hall of the core sector, Gaius sat before a group of elders.

Gaius’s face was grim. “The current unrest has been confirmed to be triggered by an... attack. The objective was likely to cover the infiltration of a small contingent into the core sector. We still don't know exactly how many enemies managed to slip through, but judging by the string of recent assaults we’ve sustained, the enemy has planned meticulously. Every move, every timing, has been perfect; they are consistently one step ahead. Now that they have arrived at the Julian Fortress, it means they are absolutely confident. We must retreat immediately!”

A severe-faced elder sneered sarcastically, “The Julian Fortress is one of Earth’s most impregnable strongholds. Our supplies are ample, our troops fully equipped. Are we to panic and abandon our solid defenses simply because of a single bombardment? Gaius XIII, you are overreacting.”

Gaius frowned. The recent cascade of setbacks had severely eroded his authority as Patriarch; even an elder who usually remained silent now dared to call him by his given name.

Gaius addressed that elder in a stern tone. “The situation is now abundantly clear. Everything that happened before was preparation for this current blow. This strike must be their most powerful. If you wish to remain within the fortress, that is your choice, but if you intend to drag the rest of us down with you to die, I will not accompany you.”

A relatively younger elder spoke with an air of nonchalance. “Haven't you already unleashed Tim? Tim is reputed to be unbeatable below the Master rank. With his light-sabers flying, he can slaughter any number that comes. Do you truly believe our enemies include Master-level experts? If so, the analysis is simple: only the Ancient Legion, the Psionic Temple, the Ape Worship Cult, and the Vatican Curia possess Master-level strength. The Ancient Legion has no reason to target us. If the Psionic Temple moved, they wouldn’t hide like this. The Ape Worship Cult has already retreated to the asteroid belt, and Saint Radis of the Vatican Curia is also stationed in the asteroid belt—all confirmed intelligence.”

Gaius glanced at him. “Don’t forget the existence of Master-level experts among the populace.”

The younger elder immediately retorted, “Those are legends! Even our intelligence network cannot confirm if there are any hidden Masters among the populace. Can you really use unsubstantiated rumors as your argument?”

Gaius shook his head. “Now is the time to err on the side of caution. If a Master wishes to remain hidden, even the Psionic Temple cannot find them; naturally, neither can our intelligence agencies or the governmental ones! Furthermore, do you truly believe Tim’s boast that he is unbeatable below Master rank means he is truly without peer?”

The eldest elder in the hall suddenly sneered coldly. “The depths of the Psionic Temple are vast. We still cannot discern their full capabilities, nor can humanity as a whole. Compared to the Ancient Legion, the Psionic Temple is the enemy humanity needs to watch most closely. The ape-men cannot seize the authority of the human world, but the Psionic Temple can. Many have forgotten, or deliberately forgotten, that those so-called Awakened are no longer truly human. Those not of our kind! Their intentions must be alien!! Cough, cough…”

Finishing his last sentence, the old elder spoke with desperate, strained intensity, as if trying to expel the pent-up frustration from his chest. After shouting, he began coughing violently.

Gaius’s brow furrowed deeper. But this elder held immense prestige within the Caesar family—he was of the Patriarch’s uncle generation, well over a century old. Even as Patriarch, Gaius could only offer gentle consolation. “Please, catch your breath first. Now is not the time to debate the Psionic Temple threat theory. We should focus our attention on the invading enemy.”

“Nonsense!” The old elder slammed his cane down heavily. “I am certain that our Caesar family’s major losses have been orchestrated by the Psionic Temple—eight out of ten odds. They seek to weaken our standing as humanity’s leader and elevate their own status. Moreover, the fact that those unseen enemies are making an issue of the human experimentation at the Santos Institute—that is too obvious! Among the powers at our level, who besides those hypocrites in the Psionic Temple would have the leisure to care about the fate of a few mortals?”

Gaius truly felt helpless against the old elder and could only continue to persuade. “The Santos affair is excellent fodder for inciting the masses. Even if it wasn't the Psionic Temple, any faction hostile to us would employ it. This has nothing to do with 'leisure'; I believe your argument is being unduly influenced by personal emotion.”

“You!” The old elder pointed a trembling finger at Gaius’s nose, clearly furious. He took several deep, ragged breaths before finally calming down slightly. “You remain stubbornly blind, unwilling to acknowledge the threat of the Psionic Temple. I can do nothing more. Regarding our predicament, you and those powers at our level—”

“Do you mean the Military-Industrial Directorate?” Gaius nodded. “As one of the three Vice-Directors of the Directorate, I certainly have the authority to call an emergency session. However, apart from expressing sympathy for our plight, the other powers have shown no intention of providing us with direct aid.”

Another elder with a sharp voice interjected, “Heh heh. In our case, a mysterious enemy used a nuclear bomb to obliterate our physical research center. I imagine the Directorate members were thoroughly shaken. They are likely afraid of attracting trouble themselves.”

A panicked voice cut in, “Oh dear! What if our enemies plan to use a nuclear bomb to vaporize the Julian Fortress?”

The sharp-voiced elder let out a cold laugh. “The implications of using a nuclear bomb on Earth versus using one in space are drastically different. Unless our enemies intend to incite public outrage, there’s little to worry about.”

Gaius mused, “Even so, we cannot rule out the possibility that the enemy might detonate other forms of WMD within the core sector. We need to prepare early—at least evacuate some of the younger generation. Now, let’s vote. Those who agree, please raise your hands!”

The elders exchanged glances, seemingly communicating wordlessly. Gradually, hands began to rise.

In the long corridor that had become the battlefield, before Yang Ying’s lightsaber even struck, Tim felt a piercing sensation in his heart. He instantly spun his light-techniques into a defensive vortex, parrying Yang Ying’s blade.

At this moment, the other four light-wheels returned to Tim’s side. Tim, feeling secure, ignored Yang Ying’s exact location and sent the five light-wheels slashing wildly outward.

Yang Ying felt utterly sealed off, above, below, left, and right. As he cleaved through one light-wheel, the adjacent one immediately filled the gap. This continued cycle revealed the absolute advantage Tim held due to his higher cultivation tier.

Until suddenly, with a sharp crack, one of the light-wheels exploded into fragments.

“What happened?” Tim was greatly alarmed as his lightsaber disintegrated.

Yang Ying, however, became energized. He had waited for this moment for a long time. The attack power of a Dark Templar’s photon blade was significantly greater than a standard lightsaber; nearly every invisible blade possessed the destructive force of a golden saber. Could it shatter a regular light-saber in ten strikes? The only reason it took this long to destroy one was that Tim rotated the use of his light-sabers, distributing the incoming attacks.

If Tim had held his light-sabers, he might have sustained longer using his ice energy, but manipulating five light-wheels with his telekinesis made it extremely difficult to simultaneously wrap the hilts in defensive frost energy.

Watching the fate of Tim’s shattered light-saber, Yang Ying thought to himself that if he could execute the Ten-Strike Sword Art while wielding several golden or invisible sabers as his primary weapons, even if he couldn't kill the enemy, he could certainly terrify them to death.

Seizing the moment of Tim’s surprise, Yang Ying exploded forward, his strikes raining down like a barrage of rain on banana leaves, consecutively shattering two more light-wheels—one of which he cleaved completely through at both ends of its staff.

When Tim desperately recalled his light-wheels, only six remained, and they radiated an intimidating heat, appearing as if they might explode within one or two more impacts.

Capitalizing on the setback, Yang Ying shifted his footing. Utilizing the telekinetic power of a high-tier Psionicist combined with his robust physique, he executed the advanced, near-Master level movement technique, 'Shrinking Step,' charging towards Tim at incredible speed.

Tim’s every hair stood on end. He desperately summoned two light-sabers with his mind to block. The moment they contacted the invisible blade, both exploded.

Yang Ying’s momentum did not slow in the slightest. In an instant, he was before Tim, bringing down another devastating cut!

“Surrender! I surrender! I yield!” Tim’s face turned ashen. He pushed off the ground, retreating backward, while simultaneously shouting his surrender via telepathy.

Yang Ying paid him no heed; the invisible blade sliced straight toward Tim’s front.

Tim desperately forced out all his remaining potential, accelerating his retreat even further. He abandoned any thought of parrying, instead directing the remaining four light-sabers to unleash their maximum combined speed toward Yang Ying. Finally, he gathered every last bit of his power and unleashed a telekinetic shockwave, attempting to blast Yang Ying backward.

“Think again about escaping!” Yang Ying’s muscles bulged, his bone-wings flared open, his tendons taut like a drawn crossbow string. He charged through Tim’s psychic blast!

His right hand gripped the invisible blade and swept it around his body, shattering the four charging light-sabers with sharp cracks, then brought the invisible blade forward directly ahead.

The Sword has Intent!

Despite using every ounce of his ability, Tim could not withstand the piercing thrust powered by a high-tier Psionicist’s mental energy combined with the Emperor Blade master’s sheer muscle strength. His chest was pierced. Yang Ying gave the blade a sharp twist and cleaved Tim clean in half across his sternum!

His upper torso shot forward with inertia to slam against the far wall of the corridor, while his lower half slid over ten meters across the floor, leaving a long, slick trail of blood.

Along the edge of this blood trail, a data chip had fallen from Tim’s waist. Yang Ying casually picked it up. Engraved on the surface of the chip were the words: Ten-Strike Sword Art Training Diary!