"How did that sense of the 'catch' disappear? Jiamu should be the one to notice," Weng Shali's cockpit was awash in golden light, the vibrant particles dancing as if the starlit sky had been brought inside, instantly inspiring awe.

In the mere three and one-third seconds it took, Weng Shali piloted his fighter at breakneck speed for one hundred thousand kilometers, continuing his frantic flight. Yet, neither through the eyes of the Masters nor on the fighter's radar could he detect anything at all.

Even for Master Weifeng, sensing something a hundred thousand kilometers away would not be this clear; merely grasping the direction would be good enough. To perceive the exact distance of one hundred thousand kilometers and the scale of the enemy was utterly impossible.

He could not tell if the enemy that registered on his senses was fifty thousand kilometers out or two hundred thousand kilometers out.

"Since I activated the Meteor Halo, the sensation of others has been steadily diminishing. They must have realized I was pursuing them, but... where exactly are they?"

Weng Shali was deeply perplexed. He did not believe his intuition could betray him; every Master-level expert trusted their feelings implicitly, and Weng Shali was no different.

He shut down the Meteor Halo. The gold sheen gradually receded from the fighter's exterior, returning it to gray. By this point, he had flown three hundred thousand kilometers without encountering a single anomaly, and he decided against searching any further out.

After circling aimlessly twice more and finding nothing, he reluctantly reactivated the Meteor Halo system, transforming once more into a streak of golden light as he returned to the Poison Fang fighter squadron.

"Finally gone."

Seeing the golden meteor return, Yang Ying let out a breath of relief. He retracted his eleven clones, then summoned a Ghost fighter and settled into the cockpit, heading toward Jupiter.

He didn't intend to bring his warships out again until he was a safe distance away from Weng Shali.

The Ghost fighter flew a full five hundred thousand kilometers before Yang Ying finally summoned all thirteen warships back from the floating continent.

Back on the bridge of the Number One Ship, Howard and the staff officers turned to face him.

Howard smiled faintly. "Sir, your movements were exceptionally swift."

Yang Ying laughed twice, waving a hand dismissively. "High praise, but we managed to slip away in the end." Settling into the command chair, Yang Ying leaned back, adopting a relaxed posture, and chuckled, "Let's head back to Jupiter."

"Yes, sir!" the crew responded.

Howard then inquired, "Sir, the battles on the left and right flanks are not yet concluded. Shall we lend them a hand?"

Yang Ying mused for a moment, then nodded. "Here's the plan: If the left flank hasn't cleared those five patrol fleets by the time we reach Jupiter, we'll assist. If they have, they will link up with the right flank, and we will join them then."

As Yang Ying's fleet neared Jupiter's orbit, the left flank had already shattered the five patrol fleets and was converging with the right flank, intending to surround the main body of the five Ancient Legions.

Because the vast majority of the Poison Fang fighters had been withdrawn, the offensive capability of the five enemy fleets had dropped significantly. Weng Shali's replacement adjutant clearly understood the dire consequences of being pincered by four of Earth's primary battle lines.

Therefore, before the left flank arrived, the enemy force retreated.

When the left flank reached the engagement zone, only the right flank, busy retrieving the wounded, remained on the battlefield.

The Third and Fifth Fleets of the right flank had suffered devastating losses this time; at least fifty percent of their fighters and one-third of their warships were combat-ineffective. Had the left flank arrived even slightly later, the right flank might have collapsed entirely.

The fact that they held on this long was due, firstly, to the mortal enmity between the Ancient Legions and humanity—this was a war for species survival, and few would flee the field. Secondly, the pressure had eased immensely when nearly ten thousand Poison Fang fighters were drawn away, giving the soldiers the hope to keep fighting until reinforcements arrived.

After the Ancient Legions withdrew, the heavily battered right flank made no attempt to pursue. Instead, they began recovering the escape pods launched before their ships were sunk, as well as the pilots who ejected when their fighters were destroyed.

When the left flank arrived, Marshal Alexander took his Second Fleet and the Mercenary Corps to pursue the retreating enemy, leaving behind a contingent of ships to assist in the rescue operations.

This was the scene Yang Ying's fleet encountered upon arrival.

A short while later, Marshal Alexander's pursuit force returned. He instructed his intelligence officer to relay the results of the chase to all the fleets. The Ancient Legion forces had already entered Jupiter Fortress's defensive perimeter; the Second Fleet had not caught up.

"Sir, the flagship is requesting communications."

An officer reported to Yang Ying.

"Connect the call," Yang Ying replied.

The main screen directly in front of the bridge flickered, displaying Marshal Alexander's haggard image.

"Commander Yang Ying, your prediction was spot on. Weng Shali inflicted tremendous losses on the right flank. If the bulk of the Poison Fang fighters hadn't been pulled away mid-battle, the Third and Fifth Fleets likely wouldn't have lasted until the left flank arrived. I regret not heeding your advice sooner," Marshal Alexander said, his tone tinged with fatigue.

"Your Excellency, you didn't come all this way just to express regret, did you?" Yang Ying queried.

"Indeed. I need to ask you something. According to the right flank's reports, Weng Shali pulled out the Poison Fang fighters and even led his contingent away himself, heading directly toward the reinforcing fleet. Did your actions cause this?" Marshal Alexander asked with grim seriousness.

Yang Ying nodded readily. "I believe so."

Alexander pressed further, "What exactly did you do to that reinforcing fleet? Was it so devastating that even Weng Shali panicked?"

Weng Shali's move to withdraw all Poison Fang fighters had thoroughly baffled him, as well as nearly every high-ranking officer in both the left and right wings. What could possibly make Weng Shali abandon a victory so close at hand?

Yang Ying glanced briefly at Alexander's surroundings and said, "There are too many people here. It might be better if I explain everything during the post-battle conference."

Alexander, currently on his bridge surrounded by staff officers ranging from Colonels to Lieutenants, surveyed the room. "No need for that formality. We can discuss it here. Anyone serving on my bridge is trustworthy. I can't wait to hear the answer to the question I just posed."

The staff officers around him instantly swelled with a sense of honored trust, the kind that makes men ready to die for their confidant. Battle is an extreme environment that often pushes beliefs to extremes. To hear such words from a Marshal—they likely wouldn't complain even if assigned immediately to a suicide squad.

"Very well, if Your Excellency doesn't mind the audience, then I have no concerns either. The truth is, that reinforcing fleet has been completely annihilated," Yang Ying stated with utter nonchalance, as if commenting on the pleasantness of the day's sunshine.

Perhaps due to his tone, Marshal Alexander and his staff officers failed to react for a beat. After two seconds, allowing their minds to fully process the statement, they understood what Yang Ying had said.

Alexander clutched his chest, leaning back heavily against the chair, and exclaimed in shock, "What did you say?! You’re not joking? How long have you been gone? That fleet was more than ten hours away. Even with the speed of your Ghost fighters, a round trip is difficult enough—and you eliminated them!"

Yang Ying had anticipated this reaction. Locking missiles combined with the sweep by sixty thousand Ghost fighters had allowed him to send the reinforcing fleet to its grave in just over half an hour—an efficiency rate that would be recorded in history books during the half-century war between humanity and the Ancient Legions.

Victories achieved this rapidly in the past always involved a massive disparity in forces, often needing five or even ten times the troops to achieve such results. But how large was Yang Ying's force? Thirteen warships—three battlecruisers and ten heavy cruisers.

The reinforcing fleet, however, fielded over forty battlecruisers, more than one hundred fifty heavy cruisers, and hundreds of smaller vessels. By all logic, the Terran Mercenary Group should have been the one destroyed.

If the Terran Mercenary Group had been wiped out by the reinforcements in the same timeframe, Marshal Alexander would certainly have felt a brief pang of regret, but he would have believed it instantly, rather than exhibiting this current astonishment.

"Your Excellency, besides this fact, can you conceive of any other possible reason that would draw Weng Shali away?" Yang Ying asked with a smile.

Alexander pondered for a long moment, then shook his head. "No, I cannot imagine any other reason."

"I will send you video and photographic evidence showing the wrecks of that reinforcing fleet. Please check your receiver," Yang Ying instructed an attendant with a look. The officer immediately transmitted the pre-prepared data to the flagship.

In front of Alexander appeared rows of light screens displaying scattered warship wreckage drifting in space—debris from Ape-Dragon King class battlecruisers, Tyrannosaurus class heavy cruisers, and Stegosaurus class light cruisers.

"Oh, right," Yang Ying continued, "I have two decisive pieces of evidence." He stood up and walked behind the command seat, leaning down as if picking something up. Using the command seat for cover, he retrieved the light-staff hilts belonging to Mika and Seza from the floating continent.

He placed the two hilts on a tray. Upon presentation, Seza's light staff was merely damaged, but Mika's had shattered into fragments.

Yang Ying displayed the hilt names to Alexander, stating, "Your Excellency, these are the light-staff remnants of two Ape Masters from the reinforcing fleet, Mika and Satha. If Master Hamlyn from the Second Fleet is present, he can confirm their identity."

Alexander instantly recognized the shattered objects on the tray as light-staff remnants and immediately commanded, "Hurry and summon Master Hamlin!"