In the headquarters building. The Cocoon Emperor, whom Kars called the Projection of the Warehouse, lightly stroked the armrest of his throne. To be precise, he was caressing certain cryptic runes engraved on the armrest. Such runes permeated the entire command hall, appearing ancient and rugged, constantly emitting a faint azure glow.
The staff officers in the command hall frequently cast glances of reverence toward these runes; they were simply too beautiful, surpassing even the void, holding some kind of cosmic truth. No language could adequately describe their mystery and spirituality. When the Burkh Emperor’s gaze swept over them, a flicker of longing would cross his eyes.
These runes were acquired over six hundred years ago by his ancestor, twenty-one generations removed, from Emperor Sarian.
According to the records of that time, Emperor Sarian inscribed three runes with a mere wave of his hand—without pen, paper, stone carving, or any other medium. He simply utilized his peak Fourth Tier mental power, drawing the three symbols in the empty air with his finger.
These runes then solidified into physical form, appearing like jade—visible and tangible.
After obtaining the three runes, that ancestor used them to configure three specialized chambers. It was said that when he activated the runes, a single rune multiplied into thousands, inscribing every surface of the chamber—walls, floor, ceiling, and even the arms of the imperial throne.
From that moment on, those three chambers were imbued with a specific property: the ability to block the perception of a peak Fourth Tier existence for ten hours. To this day, these three chambers serve as the Emperor’s bedroom, the military High Command, and a secret sanctuary.
Burkh scholars had studied these runes countless times without ever fully grasping their operating principles. They only knew that the runes were essentially pure energy, yet capable of automatically absorbing ambient cosmic energy to sustain their own existence.
It was as if the energy had come alive, forming a metabolic cycle in some unknown manner.
To conjure something from nothing, to be entirely self-sufficient—this alone demonstrated the unparalleled, rule-twisting power of the peak Fourth Tier.
“Do not underestimate this Emperor; the Burkh people will not surrender easily! Even at the final stage, I possess ultimate means! Do not force my hand!” the Burkh Emperor growled from his throne, his voice audible only to himself.
At that moment, a staff officer reported suddenly, “The fleet can no longer hold; major retreats are occurring at the front lines.”
The Minister of Military Affairs’ eyes widened, gleaming with a predatory intensity, and he stepped forward shouting, “Immediately dispatch every possible military asset into the fray! We must hold them back!”
The Chancellor approached the Emperor and whispered, “Your Majesty, it seems Duxing cannot be held.”
The Burkh Emperor’s face darkened, looking as though ink could drip from it, and he spoke in a tone of utter desperation, whispering low, “Prepare the final means.”
The Chancellor trembled, as if hearing something deeply shocking, but after a moment, he bowed his head deeply: “As you command, Your Majesty.”
About twenty minutes later, the staff officer reported again: “Your Majesty, the planetary defense system faces total collapse; the defensive lines have been completely breached. Ah, the enemy is preparing to land—they are deploying landing craft!”
“Inform all ground forces: fight to the death, no matter what.”
The Burkh Emperor ground his teeth and gave his final order. Then, with a slap on the armrest, his figure vanished entirely. He had deactivated the full-system projection in the throne.
Seeing the Emperor gone, the Chancellor and the Minister of Military Affairs exchanged glances, and without much ceremony, they too vanished without a trace.
The other civil and military officials, observing that the principal figures had departed, exchanged murmurs among themselves, then disappeared one by one.
Only the staff officers remained, continuing to resist according to established tactical plans.
Somewhere deep in the galaxy, the Burkh Emperor rose from a rather unassuming throne, a fierce glare blazing in his eyes.
He was in a modest chamber, perhaps only a hundred square meters. The runes designed for concealment were densely scattered across the surrounding walls, floor, and ceiling, their density far surpassing that of the command hall, which meant the level of concealment was exponentially greater.
This was the most hidden royal sanctuary of the Burkh Empire, a safe house constructed using Emperor Sarian’s third rune.
It was noteworthy that the safe house was not built on a planet or within an artificial celestial body, but rather within the core of a starship—a completely mobile sanctuary that could appear in any corner of the galaxy at any time.
If one looked out of the nearby viewport, one could see the beautiful spectacle of the starry sky. Unfortunately, for the resentful Burkh Emperor, no matter how beautiful the scenery, it could not cool the fire of his rage.
Just then, a voice came from outside the cabin door: “Reporting, Your Majesty, the final means are prepared. Please proceed.”
The Burkh Emperor’s mood settled slightly. “I’m coming!” He thought inwardly, Now you will all regret this!
Opening the door, the Chancellor and the Minister of Military Affairs stood waiting. The Burkh Emperor reiterated, “Success or failure hinges on this one move. Let us go.”
“Yes.”
“Speaker, all units are advancing. Our offensive operation is proceeding smoothly,” Garvath reported to Kars.
“Very good.” Kars first praised him, then added, “But a crisis is being plotted by the Burkh people. I perceive immense destructive power, although some of the future is obscured—ah, this must be the power of Emperor Sarian. Truly profound and mysterious. Worthy of the King of Kings; even for me, it is not easy to see through, only vague outlines remain. Order all units to temporarily halt their advance. Be wary that the Burkh people might resort to something extreme.”
“Understood.” Garvath acknowledged and immediately transmitted the order.
Having the preceding incident with the Level Ten Fortress Cannon as a reference, the mercenary forces this time obeyed the order, temporarily suspending their push.
Even so, two hours later, large contingents of mercenary forces still landed on Duxing, totaling nearly five million personnel. If the automated robots used as cannon fodder were included, the total fighting force exceeded ten million.
The Imperial Palace, the spaceports, and the Military Command Center were key strongholds and the areas receiving the most intense bombardment.
Outside the Command Center at this moment, swarms of starfighters swooped down, sweeping their beams across the defensive turrets on the adjacent mountain peaks. These were eliminated almost instantly, followed by the ground defense troops in the plaza.
The elite force defending the Burkh Command Center was equipped with sophisticated weaponry and rigorously trained. Each soldier weighed significantly less than a common Burkh, and while they still possessed a certain stoutness, they had trended toward normalcy. Moreover, their stone-like musculature distinguished them from ordinary Burkh citizens.
They wore powered armor, sheltering behind hastily constructed, yet reliably sturdy, temporary fortifications.
Under cover of these emplacements, they directed their weapons skyward. Plasma, particle beams, laser rays, missiles—various weapons bloomed brightly in the air, shooting down mercenary starfighters one by one.
Anti-air emplacements hidden in the nearby mountains finally revealed themselves, unleashing their full firepower. Within seconds, hundreds of thousands of missiles soared into the sky, inflicting massive casualties on the mercenary fighter formations.
A portion of the interceptors were also downed by the sheer volume of missiles—over ten thousand in total. Fortunately, the carrier fleets in the rear could replenish this number instantly, so the loss was negligible. Although the resistance from the Burkh soldiers was fierce, it only lasted ten minutes before being annihilated on the plaza by the massive waves of reinforcements rolling in behind. In this landing operation, millions of starfighters were dedicated to the task of seizing the enemy command center, and no matter the difficulty ahead, these mercenaries, whose eyes gleamed gold, would not retreat.
After eliminating the garrison troops, numerous landing craft descended onto the plaza, which had been reduced to a rubble heap. Thousands of mercenaries poured out of the transports, covering each other as they assaulted the Command Building.
“Your Majesty, the enemy has landed a significant number of troops on Duxing and are securing key departments. The Command Center cannot hold out much longer.”
The Minister of Military Affairs received the report from the Command Center. According to the staff officer who delivered it, this was likely the final communication.
Currently, the Burkh Emperor, the Chancellor, and the Minister of Military Affairs had gathered in a small hall. In the center of the hall stood a small circular table. At its core rested a strange apparatus composed of three crystal orbs. Each orb contained a three-dimensional keypad, and below each orb was a keyhole.
The Burkh Emperor, the Chancellor, and the Minister of Military Affairs each took their positions before one crystal orb. This was an ancient protocol established long ago; this ultimate measure required the unified action of the Emperor, the Chancellor, and the Minister of Military Affairs—none could be absent.
“You both know the situation on Duxing,” the Burkh Emperor stated. “Now is the time for our final step. Those Protoss people are truly despicable; they have seized half of the Burkh domains. Their crime is unforgivable. If they live, the Burkh Empire faces annihilation. Today, even at the cost of Duxing’s destruction, we must eliminate them all!”
“Indeed. May the sacrifice of our people bring a new path of development for the Burkh Empire! For the Burkh Empire!” the Minister of Military Affairs roared.
“For the Burkh Empire!” Though still harboring some hesitation, the Chancellor swallowed his words and echoed the Minister’s battle cry.
“Yes, for the Burkh Empire! Begin entering the access codes.”
The Burkh Emperor extended his hands and began pressing the crystal orb with practiced ease. The three-dimensional keypad within the orb constantly shifted its angles in response to his movements, yet the Emperor’s fingers remained absolutely steady, undisturbed, as if he had done this thousands of times—utterly proficient.
The Chancellor and the Minister of Military Affairs performed the same actions simultaneously. Each had their own unique access sequence, but the execution was equally fluid.
Moments later, the three stopped almost simultaneously; their input sequences were complete.
Each of the three produced a short, small key and inserted it into the keyhole, then began the countdown:
Click!
The three turned the keys at the exact same instant. The three resulting sounds merged into one.