The combined fleet of the Earth Forces and the mercenaries finally arrived at the frigid lunar body of Callisto… Even though Io and Callisto orbited close to each other, the difference in their orbital radii exceeded eight hundred thousand kilometers. This meant the minimum distance between the two celestial bodies was still eighty thousand kilometers.

On the day of the assault, the straight-line distance between Callisto and Io was a staggering 1.6 million kilometers. When the allied fleet arrived, Ongsha Lie's fleet was already positioned outside Ganymede, perfectly arrayed and awaiting them.

Once both sides entered firing range, the battle was poised to erupt instantly. "Fire." "Attack!" Both sides simultaneously issued the order to engage.

In that very instant, dazzling beams of light shot forth from both sides, slicing across the void of space toward the opposing formations. The troop disposition for the engagement was as follows: The Earth Forces deployed nine fleets—the Second, Third, Fifth, Sixth, Seventh, Eighth, Ninth, Eleventh, and Twelfth.

In terms of warships, they possessed over two hundred and fifty Pacific-class battlecruisers, more than thirteen hundred heavy cruisers, an equal number of light cruisers, and nearly three thousand smaller destroyers and frigates combined. The mercenary faction was too diverse to count accurately.

The forces of the Ancient Legion were approximately half the size of the Earth Forces. Due to unreplaced losses from previous engagements, they were at a distinct disadvantage in sheer scale.

In fact, the array the Earth Forces had established around Jupiter already surpassed the entirety of the Ancient Legion’s visible strength. Looking back over half a century of conflict between Earth and the Ancient Legion, this numerical superiority was common.

The Earth Forces often held the advantage in troop numbers on the battlefield. Conversely, the Ancient Legion’s edge lay in their more fluid tactics and the superior capability of the Viper fighter craft when they held the advantage.

Up until recently, the two sides had maintained a stalemate, neither achieving a decisive victory. "Detachment the destroyers and frigates; form them into a screen fleet to secure the landing of our ground forces on Ganymede!

We will engage and tie down the Ancient Legion's fleet," Marshal Alexander commanded shortly after the battle commenced. Following this order, nearly three thousand medium and small warships escorted five hundred transport vessels, carrying one hundred thousand landing troops along with three days' worth of necessary supplies and materiel, toward Ganymede.

The decision to provision for three days was a precaution against a scenario where the fortress defenses were too formidable, preventing a quick breakthrough and forcing a protracted siege. If a long battle did ensue, three days' worth of supplies might buy them just enough time for the rear echelon to prepare and send the next wave of logistics.

As the screen fleet turned to peel away, countless fighter craft detached from the Ancient Legion's warships and sped toward the Earth Forces fleet. Nearly ten thousand Viper fighters served as their vanguard.

Seeing this, Marshal Alexander immediately issued the order for the Earth Forces' fighter wings to scramble. The combined nine fleets of the Earth Forces boasted a full two hundred thousand fighters, far outnumbering the Ancient Legion.

Among them were forty thousand first-generation Ghost fighters. Set against the backdrop of starlit space, the two masses of fighters approached, resembling two perfectly ordered swarms of bees.

Ten minutes later, the two swarms met. Instantly, sheets of beam fire erupted, missiles flew astray, and explosions blossomed ceaselessly.

The battle was thrust into a near white-hot intensity from the outset. After half an hour, the two distinct fighter masses merged into one chaotic cloud, almost entirely devoid of formation.

An organized line of fighters, once drawn into the fray, would be shattered within moments, only to repeat the cycle of chaotic engagement. However, a large pocket of open space remained in the center of the dogfight.

Here, the Master-class fighters from both sides were engaged in a higher-order battle. The speed of the craft here was so extreme it was invisible to the naked eye; turning ten times in a single second was common.

The afterburners of the small fighters snaked and twisted like myriad serpentine bolts of lightning. Yet, after fighting for a long time, no fighter was definitively destroyed.

As Master-level pilots, they possessed an innate understanding of ebb and flow on the battlefield. Once a fighter sustained damage beyond its combat capability, it would immediately retreat, and a friendly Master-class fighter would proactively provide cover.

Meanwhile, the landing force, protected by the screen fleet, pressed toward the surface of Ganymede under a barrage of intense anti-air fire. Ganymede’s defensive preparations were far superior to those on Callisto.

The layout of its anti-air batteries covered nearly every inch of the sky, making the landing significantly harder than the previous assault. The screen fleet hammered the surface, attempting to suppress the ground defenses.

Still, the transport ships descended through the thick curtain of beams, and occasionally, a transport would be struck, burst into flames, and disintegrate in mid-air. As they neared the surface, the transport ships began deploying numerous landing pods, scattering as they descended.

Landing pods were armored auxiliary craft, shaped like square containers, offering some defense against anti-air fire. Once on the ground, the pods would automatically disassemble: four armored panels would fall outward, allowing the troops inside, already prepped for combat, to swarm out in the shortest possible time.

This descent operation allowed no time for assembly; the landing troops had to achieve combat readiness instantly and consolidate their positions while fighting. Despite extensive preparation, many landing pods were still shot down during the final descent phase.

Aboard the bridge of the Trant Mercenary Group's lead vessel, orbiting Callisto. Yang Ying sat in the command chair, observing the optical display on the main screen.

He could see the sporadic sparks of impacts and the silhouettes of anti-air emplacements being destroyed by the escort ships' fire. "Howard, have our Thors not deployed yet?" Yang Ying inquired.

"Not yet, sir. The surface defenses still pose a significant threat.

A Thor is too large a target; deploying now would make it the focus of everything. The Thors are designated as crucial assault assets, and Marshal Alexander has ensured the military will clear a path for us.

We estimate another half hour, waiting for the screen fleet to blast a corridor through the AA fire. Then the military will notify us," Howard replied.

"Understood." Yang Ying fell silent, returning his gaze to the battle unfolding on the optical image. Perhaps because of the intervening light screen, the tension of the battlefield felt somewhat muted, watching the cold violence as if observing a film.

Half an hour later. "Sir, notification from the military.

They are authorizing the Thors to enter the battleground from coordinate N." an aide reported. "Go," Yang Ying commanded.

Three Thor transport ships broke away from the Trant Mercenary Group's formation and began their descent toward Ganymede. The anti-air fire from the surface had been partially suppressed by the initial landing troops, thinning out to the point where it no longer posed a credible threat to the transports.

Blade, piloting his own craft, escorted the Thor transports downward. Through his cockpit canopy, he could clearly see the surface troops forming a preliminary front line, pushing toward Ganymede Fortress One.

In the air, in addition to the ground action, tens of thousands of Earth Forces fighters were locked in fierce struggle with the Ancient Legion's defending craft, battling desperately for air superiority. As the Thor transports approached the surface, three incredibly fast fighters suddenly peeled away from the Ancient Legion's main fighter mass.

Judging by their acceleration profile, they clearly outclassed standard Viper fighters. Blade watched the radar image, muttering to himself, "Master-class craft.

The Thor transports, due to carrying heavy cargo like the Thors, required some modifications, making their external profile slightly different from standard transports. While these differences are subtle, to a Master-level pilot, they are glaringly obvious." However, their appearance was anticipated.

From the Earth Forces fighter mass, three elaborately designed, brightly shimmering Psion Temple Master-class fighters launched, each selecting an enemy to intercept. Blade let out an astonished sound.

"A perfect three-on-three matchup? That's too coincidental." Before the words had fully faded, another Master-class fighter broke from the Ancient Legion’s formation and sped directly toward the Thor transports.

"Did I just tempt fate?" Blade slapped his forehead. "Then let me add this: the Psion Temple should be deploying its fourth Master about now." With that, Blade fixed an expectant gaze upon the Earth Forces fighter cluster.

But until that Ape Master-class fighter reached the Thor transports, and a red, trident-shaped metal needle extended from its nose, a thick, crimson and black filament materialized out of thin air, wrapping around the trident's tip. It coalesced into a small, reddish sphere of energy that rapidly grew, blazing intensely—clearly preparing to fire.

At that moment, there was still no reaction from the Earth Forces fighter group. Blade realized the Psion Temple did not have a fourth Master-class craft available.

"This tells me two things, both good and bad. The good news is I'm not a jinx.

The bad news is I might have to handle this Master-class fighter myself." After taking down two Master-level experts, Mika and Jingsa, he no longer hesitated about engaging a Master-class opponent head-on. Shaking off his momentary doubt, Blade aimed his trigger at the Master-class fighter’s trident tip and fired two Hammer-Rays precisely toward it.

Blade’s thought process was lightning-fast; he’d barely spent any time on his lengthy internal monologue. As he fired, the trident was still in its energy-gathering state.

With Uranium traveling at three hundred thousand kilometers per second, once fired, the target would have no time to evade. However, Master-level experts exist on a reaction plane faster than time itself.

Before the Hammer-Rays could connect, that Master-class fighter executed a subtle evasive maneuver, a small movement that perfectly caused both drilling beams to pass harmlessly by. But in doing so, it lost its firing angle.

The red energy sphere charged to maximum and unleashed a thick beam of light, directed toward the empty space adjacent to the three Thor transports. Then, with a flash of crimson light, two of the Thor transports exploded with concussive force!

Blade’s heart seized. The visual confirmation was unmistakable.

Although the beam had missed its original intended target, the energy column had undeniably struck two Thor transports, and those two transports had not even been in a direct line with the trident when it fired! This strange event occurred because, even though the beam's initial trajectory was not aimed at the Thor transports, the light beam had violated the law of straight-line motion and bent!