Idyne screamed as if she had seen a ghost, her eyes unfocused as she uttered the words, as though she had just heard the most incredible tall tale of her life. The most impossible thing had abruptly materialized before her.

Who was Singriel? He was not merely the leader of the rebels; long before the rebellion even surfaced, he was universally acknowledged as the foremost master among the Flinn people. He was battle-hardened, always victorious, with no other Flinn capable of matching him. Countless failures had built the pedestal of his incomparable renown, which towered as unreachable as the sky. Nearly every Flinn believed that Singriel’s Blizzard technique was invincible, that it had never failed, and never would. Now, Singriel was the President of the Flinn Republic, making assassination ten times more difficult. The Presidential Palace defenses were terrifyingly dense, with layers upon layers of masters surrounding Singriel, ensuring anyone attempting to approach him first had to contend with his perimeter defenses—a perimeter that had already caused countless aspirants to drink bitter failure, proving its flawless integrity.

Yet, Yang Ying had succeeded. Singriel’s mantle of invincibility was thus shattered; he died so suddenly in an assassination attempt, right within the heavily fortified Presidential Palace.

Idyne felt as if she were dreaming. Her mind was a chaotic knot, incapable of rational thought.

Seeing her descend into confusion, Yang Ying shrugged. "It seems getting you to accept the facts won't be a quick process. Head back to your quarters and get some rest. If you still have doubts and require proof, I have Singriel’s head here. You are welcome to examine it."

Idyne vigorously shook her head, breaking free from her trance-like state, her gaze sharpening. "Let's go. You have thirteen peak Third-Level masters. Infiltrating the Presidential Palace together, securing Singriel’s head isn't impossible. However, to confirm, I still need to see his head. Can I see it now?"

"No problem."

Yang Ying led her to the isolated chamber where the head was stored. In this room, barely ten square meters in size, a crystal box floated solitary in the center. Singriel’s head rested peacefully within the box, his eyes tightly shut, his face still retaining a trace of the arrogance that once surveyed all others.

"It is indeed him."

A complex expression flickered across Idyne’s face, a mixture of hatred and bewilderment. The hatred stemmed from Singriel's betrayal, which had caused countless people to bleed—not just in the past, but continuing into the future. Her own family was among the bleeding masses. The bewilderment arose because the legend among the Flinn, the invincible super-master who was once an object of worship for countless Flinn, including herself, had finally fallen.

After this churning of complex emotions, a burst of ecstasy surged from the depths of her heart. The collapse of the rebel leader and spiritual pillar would undoubtedly benefit the war effort immensely. Keeping such good news to herself was unthinkable.

Idyne could barely control the tremor in her voice. "Master Yang Ying, this man's death will surely accelerate the war effort, allowing us to suppress the seditious activities of the pseudo-republic sooner. I will report this achievement to the Royal Family; His Majesty and the others will be overjoyed."

She offered a quick apology to Yang Ying, spun around, and darted out of the room, a dreamlike excitement still plastered on her face. She couldn't wait to share the news with everyone else.

Another day passed, and Yang Ying arrived at the Capital Star once more. When he was last here, this planet was still under rebel control; now, it had returned to the Kingdom’s fold. Yang Ying left his fleet in orbit and descended to the Capital Star aboard the Shenshou.

Two days had passed since the attack on the Presidential Palace on Beihu Star, and the news of Singriel’s death had already spread widely. As information exceedingly favorable to the Flinn Kingdom, the royal faction spared no effort in disseminating it everywhere. The veteran elder and initiator of the rebellion, concurrently the supreme military and political leader, the Third-Level Limit expert Singriel, had been killed by the thirteen masters of the Teran Mercenary Group.

The thirteen Ghost fighters had made their presence known on Beihu Star. Even without Idyne’s report, the Kingdom’s high command had formed a very solid guess as to who accomplished this monumental feat.

Yang Ying’s return was met with heroic fanfare. The Royal Family organized a special celebration to welcome him back. As the Giant Beast landed on the vast plaza before the Royal Retreat, the massive crowd instantly erupted in cheers like a collapsing mountain range and a tidal wave. Colored smoke and fireworks burst forth, creating a spectacular display of light and sound.

As Yang Ying reached the hatch, he was enveloped by an intensely festive atmosphere. Below the hatch, the King and Queen arrived together, flanked by other royal members. Sinnie Di waved to him from a short distance away.

The King stepped forward to give a speech, expressing profound gratitude for the special contributions made by the Teran Mercenary Group to the Kingdom. He delivered an impassioned impromptu address that whipped the plaza crowds into frenzies of excitement.

Yang Ying noticed that this plaza was filled with artifacts steeped in history and information. Along the edges of the plaza stood numerous five-meter-high pillars, completely black, dotted with silvery star-like specks across their surfaces. This characteristic instantly identified them as being polished from the renowned Galaxy Stone. At the apex of each pillar rested a figure carved from Galaxy Stone. The poses of the statues varied greatly: some gazed toward the heavens, some charged with swords drawn, some looked down upon the world with disdain, and others commanded with composure. However, they shared one commonality: every figure depicted was a most famous personality in Flinn history.

These figures spanned a period exceeding ten thousand years, encompassing not only those from the Flinn Kingdom era but also renowned figures predating the Kingdom's founding, such as the pioneers who led the Flinn into space, and the brilliant scientists who developed spatial jump technology.

Every individual carved into stone had performed an action that profoundly affected the entire Flinn society, thus earning the right to have their statue erected in this plaza. Inscribed upon the pillars supporting the statues were records of their historical deeds.

The expressions and postures of these statues were incredibly lifelike and vivid, representing works of supreme artistry. Only a grand lineage such as the Flinn Royal Family, stretching back thousands of years, could possess such priceless heritage.

Most striking was a colossal wall built of Galaxy Stone standing on the western side of the plaza, towering over thirty meters high and stretching more than a hundred meters long. Engraved upon this wall were seven towering full-body figures of kings, each wearing a royal crown, clad in royal robes, holding either a sword or the book of laws, gazing forward.

Yang Ying recalled that Idyne had mentioned this treasure of the Flinn Kingdom in passing—the Wall of the Seven Kings, depicting the seven most famous monarchs in the thousand-year history of the Flinn Kingdom. The creation of the Wall of the Seven Kings took over two hundred standard years, involving more than a hundred artists. A universally recognized supreme genius in Flinn history served as the overseer of this epic artistic endeavor. From the age of thirty-five, when he transcended mortal limits in the Way of Art and advanced to the Third Level, until his death at the age of two hundred and sixty-one as a Third-Level Limit master, he poured his entire life's essence into this wall, achieving the galaxy-renowned fame of this Galaxy Stone structure.

This plaza seemed to encapsulate nearly the entire history of the Flinn Kingdom. Standing there felt like wandering through the Flinn nation’s history; a millennium of glorious achievements condensed into tangible form, showcasing to the plaza crowds the intense, core spirit of the advanced Galaxy civilization: the Flinn people. Yang Ying couldn't help but sigh internally: "The rebels occupied the Capital Star for several months, yet they never razed this plaza to the ground. It seems this plaza truly holds a deep significance in the hearts of the Flinn people."

The sea of people stretched from beneath the statues all the way to the Giant Beast, almost everyone being staunch supporters of the Royal Family. They were the ones most oppressed during the months of rebel rule on the Capital Star; their families, relatives, and friends had suffered persecution by the rebels to varying degrees, fostering a deep-seated hatred for them. Simultaneously, they were the group most delighted by Singriel’s death.

Surrounded by the throng, Yang Ying completed the solemn ceremony and was invited into the Retreat by the King and Queen. The reason it was the Retreat and not the most formal Royal Palace was that the Palace had been destroyed during the battle where Yang Ying and his thirteen companions rescued the King and Queen. The rebels, centered on Beihu Star, had absolutely no interest in repairing the Palace, so it remained in ruins.

The King had ordered the Palace rebuilt, but until the reconstruction was finished, the Royals had to temporarily reside in this Retreat. Yet, one could tell from the history-laden plaza outside that this Retreat was no casual location.

They proceeded to a lavish conference room where the King and Queen and Yang Ying sat down according to protocol. Attendants brought out rare beverages. Most of the other royal members had dispersed, as they had their own duties, but Princess Haifen was asked to remain by the King and Queen, seated beside them.

"Your actions and their results have astonished me, Master Yang Ying," the King stated, leaning slightly forward with sincerity. "The achievements of the Teran Mercenary Group behind rebel lines have far exceeded our expectations."

"Not at all," Yang Ying laughed. "The battlefield is not static, and tactics cannot remain rigid, or one will face crisis. Our assassination of Singriel was merely a necessity of tactics."

"Haha," the King chuckled heartily, waving a hand. "Alas, I must be getting old; my thinking can’t keep up with the times. What you see as a tactical necessity has drastically shifted the strategic balance between us and the rebels. Are all the tactics conceived by Terrans this far-reaching?"

"Your Majesty flatters me," Yang Ying replied with a smile.

The Queen took Princess Haifen’s hand and said to Yang Ying, "Master Yang Ying, I hope you can forgive this child’s recklessness."

"Oh? What is this about?" Yang Ying asked curiously.