The midday sun blazed bright, and amidst the ever-shifting white clouds, a flock of Wūlèi Shēngfěn swept through, their cries crisp and sharply piercing.

Clad in scales and bearing two pairs of membranous wings, they were roughly the size of pigeons—a relatively unremarkable species on Fulin’s capital planet.

On a landing pad not far from the temporary palace, a line of obsidian-black hovercraft slowly advanced toward the Jùshòuhào (Behemoth) parked at the pad's center.

When the convoy reached the Jùshòuhào, a detachment of bodyguards dressed in royal livery disembarked first. They positioned themselves as a perimeter around the most opulent vehicle in the center. As its door opened, Xinnidi stepped out first, followed by the King and Queen, Princess Hāfēn, and Yang Ying.

Several cabinet ministers emerged from the following vehicles; they had accompanied the royal couple. Except for one, Yidini, who had also arrived at the landing pad with the convoy to see Yang Ying off.

The ground crew, upon seeing this procession, bowed deeply. They recognized the highest echelon of the kingdom's figures.

“Master Yang Ying, though I would personally dearly wish you could stay a while longer, since you have made up your mind to depart, I can only wish you a safe journey,” the King said, a note of regret in his voice.

“Thank you, Your Majesty the King,” Yang Ying chuckled. “We have a saying where I come from: all good things must come to an end. The battlefield here no longer requires my presence. Moreover, once I leave, you still have Master Xinnidi and the help of the Ge Xing people. They will provide the Fulin Kingdom with far greater aid than I ever could.”

Xinnidi offered a slight smile from the side, not interjecting. She had revealed none of her conversations with Yang Ying to anyone, wishing to avoid any misunderstanding. Yang Ying was in complete accord with her on this matter.

Not long before, the Kusta people had officially broadcast across the entire Orion Arm, asserting the Fulin people’s inherent right to determine their own future, condemning the Fulin Kingdom’s use of military force to suppress the populace. To protect the Fulin people’s rightful autonomy from high-handed oppression, the Kusta Empire formally announced the annexation of the Fulin Republic as a protected state, immediately deploying troops within the Fulin Republic.

Following this, the Kusta people sent a final ultimatum to the Fulin Kingdom, demanding the King and Queen abdicate, the Royal Family self-exile, and the government and military be disbanded. Otherwise, the Kusta Empire would take any necessary action to achieve this goal, holding the Royal Family entirely responsible for all resulting consequences.

This was, in essence, a declaration of war.

The Ge Xing people reacted swiftly, officially announcing their support for the Fulin Kingdom’s military operations to eradicate the rebels. They deemed the pseudo-republic’s insurrection a violation of the Higher Civilizations’ accords of the Orion Arm, warning that the Kusta people’s arrogant intervention would bring about their own ruin. Simultaneously, they publicly released various atrocities committed by the rebels collected over a long period.

The declarations from both sides acted like a fuse. Dozens of other Higher Civilizations aligned with the Ge Xing and Kusta military blocs swiftly voiced support for their allies, ordering troop mobilization and raising alert levels.

All races sensed an atmosphere where a storm was brewing on the horizon. The thousand-year war between the Ge Xing and Kusta people—the galaxy’s greatest powder keg—now stood on the brink of eruption.

Under these circumstances, Yang Ying announced his departure. Although the King regretted the loss of thirteen Grandmasters, he could find no convincing reason to make them stay. He readily agreed, even taking time out of his busy schedule to see Yang Ying off at the landing pad.

The group reached the Jùshòuhào, standing before the boarding ramp. The Queen addressed them: “Master Yang Ying, your power brought us immense assistance; even my husband and I were saved by you. We will forever hold that bond in our hearts.”

“You should thank the esteemed Princes and Princesses; they paid a great price for it.”

Yang Ying referred to the habitable planet located in the Perseus Arm. The advance team had already sent back initial survey reports, and the results were exceptionally promising.

Although the planetary environment was far from ideal—temperatures were consistently high, averaging around forty-five degrees Celsius, and thousands of unstable volcanoes occasionally spewed lava—the advantages far outweighed the drawbacks. The local biosphere was incredibly robust, a benefit that eclipsed all negatives.

The planet hosted a full spectrum of large, medium, and small wild beasts, alongside high, medium, and low-tier flora. Water and necessary nutrients for carbon-based life were abundant. Geological surveys indicated the surface earth contained twenty-six times the carbon content of Earth and seventeen point three times the organic matter—a veritable biological paradise.

Yang Ying recalled the video data sent back: scenes of dense, sprawling vegetation, ancient trees towering to the sky. Wild grasses grew taller than a person. Ample sunlight made the land seem to flow with milk and honey, while countless colossal beasts, some as tall as buildings, patrolled and foraged.

And then there were the terrifying swarms of flying creatures. A single swarm numbered at least a million, some in the hundreds of millions. When they took flight, they blotted out the sun, plunging vast regions of the sky into darkness for hundreds of kilometers. They soared with fluid grace, constantly shifting formations into countless breathtaking patterns—a truly awe-inspiring spectacle.

In Yang Ying’s mind, this world was a heaven-sent nest for the Zerg. Acquiring this planet alone made the entire endeavor worthwhile.

“Will you ever return?” Yidini asked, her expression complex. She seemed uncertain whether she should pose the question, yet she softly asked it anyway.

This question drew the attention of everyone nearby.

“Perhaps… I won’t,” Yang Ying shook his head, then suddenly laughed. “But no one can predict the future. Who knows? We might meet again.”

Hearing the first part of his response, Yidini felt a pang of disappointment. But the latter part invigorated her, and she laughed. “If you come back next time, don’t suddenly appear right behind me; you’ll scare the life out of someone!”

After bidding farewell to the others in turn, Yang Ying turned and ascended the ramp, entering the Jùshòuhào. The ramp retracted automatically, and the hatch slowly sealed shut.

Yang Ying reached the bridge, straightened his uniform, and settled into his command seat. He instructed, “Howard, initiate departure.”

“Yes, Officer.” Howard surveyed the bridge, then repeated the order, “Initiate departure.”

The Jùshòuhào ignited its engines and ascended. A rush of air swept outwards, and the send-off party waved again. They watched the ship climb higher and higher before finally returning to their convoy.

Reaching high altitude, the Jùshòuhào shimmered, executing a spatial jump toward the Sol system.

Although the Fulin Kingdom was extremely distant from the Sol system, requiring twelve days of travel through hyperspace, Yang Ying had no intention of stopping along the way this time; he planned a direct return.

Moreover, he did not wish to spend these twelve days confined to the monotony of hyperspace.

Once the Jùshòuhào entered hyperspace, Yang Ying entrusted the remainder of the journey entirely to Howard. He then left the bridge and returned to his quarters. He sat cross-legged and began meditating.

With a slight mental shift, Yang Ying’s primary soul instantly traversed tens of thousands of light-years via the psychic resonance channel to the Perseus Arm, inhabiting the shell of a clone body, displacing the clone soul within it. That clone soul, in turn, transferred to another clone body on the Floating Continent to join the others in practicing various combat techniques. Yang Ying was unwilling to forgo any opportunity to cultivate his abilities.

He no longer required a medical stasis pod; the soul exiting his body caused no significant harm now.

Through long practice of the Niànnéng Sùtǐ Shù (Psionic Body Sculpting Technique), his physical form had completely transformed into that of a transcended Master’s Body, free from dependence on air, water, food, or sleep. He could sustain himself by absorbing cosmic radiation even in a vacuum, continuing until the natural end of his lifespan.

In ancient practices, reaching this level was termed achieving the 'Golden Body'; the physical remains of some meditating monks reportedly resisted decay for millennia. Yang Ying’s body was similar; even after a period of soul departure, it maintained full vitality.

Psychic resonance was a miraculous state; fluctuations of the mind could reach their destination instantly, regardless of distance, even spanning the entire universe—a speed slightly faster than a wormhole.

Yang Ying awoke within the clone body and found himself atop a volcanic crater. Peering into the caldera, he beheld a searing world before him. The magma glowed with a fierce, fiery light, emitting billowing heat. Volcanic ash mingled with the rising currents, and flashes of fire occasionally pierced the dense smoke.

Not far from him, several small streams of lava jetted out from the crater, flowing down toward the base of the mountain.

Yang Ying maintained constant communication with his clones. He was mentally prepared for the environment here.

A research observation station was situated nearby. It had recently noted unstable movements from this very volcano. This particular clone had been leading a team of soldiers and researchers to survey the environment, and Yang Ying’s main soul possessed the body just as the preliminary results were coming in.

The survey concluded that this volcano had a high probability of a massive eruption in the near future, rendering the surrounding dozens of kilometers a danger zone.

Two minutes prior, the clone had issued the evacuation order for that research station.

A Major of the Marine Corps was communicating with the station. After only a few words, his expression suddenly shifted. He hurried over to Yang Ying, reporting: “Officer, there is a problem with the station’s evacuation. Those on the line report a large number of medium-sized beasts are approaching them—easily over five thousand. They are extremely aggressive and have already engaged the security detail protecting the station. The situation is critical; they can barely hold on.”

Medium-sized, in the context of this planet, equated to the size of lions or tigers on Earth. This world hosted large creatures nearly the size of elephants, and behemoths even larger than a Tyrannosaurus Rex.

As for the massive sea creatures, their size dwarfed anything terrestrial; an Earth blue whale would be little more than an appetizer here.

Learning the station was in crisis, Yang Ying commanded, “Time is short. I will proceed to the station first; you all follow cautiously afterward.”

“Yes, Officer,” the others responded. Yang Ying’s figure flashed, and he darted down the mountain, stepping across the slick rocks.

On the descent, he felt the searing wind wash over his face, the scenery on both sides blurring past rapidly. From the mountaintop, he could glimpse the incomparably beautiful, primeval landscape in the distance. An overwhelming sense of exhilaration surged through Yang Ying’s chest, and he threw back his head and roared to the heavens!