The sudden appearance of thirteen Blade Emperors instantly encircled the group of Fourth-Tier existences who had been conversing; Shalo, Yingmuli, Emperor Salian, and the others were all extremely shocked.

If they had merely been outmaneuvered by one Blade Emperor, they wouldn't have cared much, but what stood before them was a full contingent of thirteen Blade Emperors!

A single peak Fourth-Tier existence was already astounding enough; in the Orion Arm, only Shalo had reached that limit. Thirteen peak Fourth-Tier existences—one could scour the entire Orion Arm and the Perseus Arm combined and still not find such a number!

In an instant, Shalo, Yingmuli, Emperor Salian, and the rest mentally reviewed tens of thousands of years of galactic history, muttering curses under their breath. Since ancient times, no race other than the True Humans had ever possessed three peak Fourth-Tier beings, let alone thirteen!

If someone had told them just a few days, or even minutes, ago that this would happen, they would have assumed the speaker had gone mad, as, in their estimation, this situation was fundamentally impossible.

This turn of events, which seemed to defy all common sense, even led a few of the weaker Fourth-Tier beings to suspect they were suffering from a mental attack and hallucinating. Yet, no matter how many times they calmed their minds and concentrated, the scene before them remained unchanged.

After ruling out the possibility of psychic assault, they had no choice but to reluctantly accept the reality, their faces etched with an unprecedented gravity.

Yingmuli surveyed the encirclement, his brow deeply furrowed. He stepped forward and spoke, "Undoubtedly, you are all followers of that Zerg adept. What purpose does this sudden siege serve today?"

The others remained silent, allowing Yingmuli to engage with the opposing side, while simultaneously waiting and searching for any exploitable opportunity.

"Don't speak of 'that Zerg.' We have names. You may call us the Zerg-G, or the Zerg-G race," stated the Blade Emperor who had assumed the role of spokesman. "As for our purpose, isn't it quite obvious? You were gathered here discussing how to deal with our kin. Naturally, we cannot allow such a matter to proceed unchallenged. To strike preemptively before you consolidate your strength—is that not perfectly normal?"

As soon as the words fell, the speaking Blade Emperor suddenly felt a somewhat familiar energy reach out toward them. A flicker crossed his mind as he thought, This energy... is it the Force Sea? It seems too many Fourth-Tier beings have gathered here, triggering the Force Sea's reconnaissance capabilities. Truly worthy of being the super-mental network that once spanned the galaxy; despite heavy damage, it still possesses profound mysteries. Well, it’s not a major issue anyway; if discovered, so be it.

Immediately after, he and the other twelve Blade Emperors assumed combat stances, addressing their encircled targets: "Let's dispense with the pleasantries and begin."

The battle erupted in an instant. Although Yingmuli and the others had hoped to stall for a bit longer, their voices received no response from the Blade Emperors. Yang Ying had deployed this force not for negotiation.

In the galaxy, nothing could escape the perception of a peak Fourth-Tier existence. He was well aware that the expeditionary forces of various races had classified the Zerg as a race posing a severe threat to their development, one that required complete extermination. Many official narratives already labeled the Zerg as the common enemy of all races, and the internal resolve to eliminate the Zerg was firm, their determination absolute.

They would never accept a truce from the Zerg. If the Zerg were in a weaker position, they would be ruthlessly wiped out without hesitation. This was precisely the current situation; it was just that the Zerg's resilience surpassed their expectations, temporarily plunging them into a difficult predicament.

Their gathering today was solely to discuss methods for encircling and annihilating the Blade Emperors. If matters had proceeded according to their plans, leading to the destruction of the Blade Emperors and chaos among the Zerg, the subsequent steps were predictable: they would bring the plan to annihilate the entire Zerg race to the forefront.

If the roles were reversed, the races of the Orion Arm would certainly not grant the Zerg a path to survival simply because they held the advantage. Thus, Yang Ying, while currently holding the upper hand, had no intention of leaving them an escape route either.

Racial warfare, a life-or-death struggle—such events had transpired countless times throughout the long history of the universe.

As the thirteen Blade Emperors struck, they simultaneously concealed their forms. In their hands materialized twin crescent-shaped Coldflame Blades, forged from pure void energy. Although they superficially resembled flames, their actual temperature approached absolute zero.

It was worth noting that the Photon Blades used by the Protoss Dark Templars utilized a similar type of energy—another miraculous power employed by the Protoss, distinct from psionic lightning. However, the Blade Emperors wielded it with greater refinement, marking a qualitative leap in its destructive potency.

As peak experts, the Blade Emperors’ cloaking made them virtually indistinguishable from the cosmic void, hiding their killing intent without the slightest betraying shimmer.

The Fourth-Tier existences of the Orion Arm immediately activated their High-Level Spiritual Sense Eyes, but they found almost no trace of the Blade Emperors within their sightline.

Even powerful beings like Yingmuli, Emperor Salian, and Xidilun could only discern vague outlines, and only Shalo could see them with slightly more clarity—and even that required a relatively close proximity.

"Gather! Do not let them pick us off one by one!"

As Yingmuli roared, they instantly coalesced amidst flashes of light and electricity, forming a tight defensive formation aimed outward. They unleashed their divine abilities, guarding their surroundings so securely that not even water could penetrate.

A robust shield wall was collaboratively erected by their combined efforts. Upon closer inspection, one could discern that the shield was composed of a dozen layers—perhaps a faint membrane of light, or a thick curtain of energy, or even structures woven from scintillating runes. Regardless of the surface appearance, the defensive power of these shields was extraordinary, as they were the product of the full strength of a group of Fourth-Tier beings.

Beneath the protection of the shield, Shalo's face showed a hint of anger; it was clear he was deeply displeased at being dragged into this grand conflict. However, seeing that the Blade Emperors had no intention of negotiating, he could only join the others in defense.

The Blade Emperors swept their Coldflame Blades toward the defensive barrier. The emerald-green, chilling sword-light flashed across the shields projected by the deities. One strike pierced two layers of defense and gouged a deep mark into the third.

Strike followed strike; dozens of blows landed in the blink of an eye, shattering the defensive barrier into pieces. Yet, in that brief window, those within the shield managed to reinforce it with another dozen layers!

Both sides moved too swiftly for the naked eye to follow, but the Blade Emperors held a multi-fold superiority in strength, meaning their rate of destruction far outpaced the rate of reconstruction. Within half a second, they tore through hundreds of defensive layers, arriving before the encircled Fourth-Tier existences of the Orion Arm.

A blinding explosion of light erupted. In just a brief moment, several arms, several legs, and two tails were flung out from the epicenter of the battle!

These severed limbs were stained with multicolored blood, and regardless of the hue, the blood radiated potent energy—the unmistakable hallmark of Fourth-Tier beings.

A few of the weaker Fourth-Tier existences were wounded within seconds of contact. The Blade Emperors' Coldflame Blades relentlessly slashed at them, carving deep wounds, their energized blood pouring out and staining the ground, yet the injured had no time to even register their injuries; they were fighting desperately for survival.

The weakest among them was only a mid-stage Fourth-Tier. If they hadn't received constant support from those nearby, they likely would have been instantly annihilated the moment the fighting began.

At this juncture, a fleet of Cycro ships arrived from the outer orbit of the planet, dotting the sky like scattered stars. One Blade Emperor glanced at them, quickly calculating that the fleet numbered at least a million vessels, which was clearly Shalo’s personal guard. The Blade Emperor also spotted several hundred star-destroyers, renowned throughout the Orion Arm, ships rumored capable of obliterating every living being on an entire planet with a single strike.

"Good timing!" The Blade Emperor remained unperturbed, merely intensifying his assault. With two swift slashes, he breached the defense of a mid-stage Fourth-Tier being. As Yingmuli nearby prepared to intervene, another Blade Emperor intercepted him.

A chilling flash of cold light split the air!

A head resembling an alligator’s soared into the sky.

The Blade Emperor who dispatched the enemy immediately joined the fray elsewhere. Two seconds later, another round head shot upward.

Less than half a minute into the engagement, the orbital fleet hadn't even fully formed its attack formation, yet two Fourth-Tier entities had already fallen to the Blade Emperors!

They possessed Fourth-Tier mental power, and vast fleets awaited their command in the distance, but on this planet, in this environment, they could receive no military support.

Except...

Boom!

A colossal vortex suddenly appeared in the sky—a gargantuan wormhole with an opening diameter spanning ten kilometers!

A fleet poured out of it ceaselessly; it was clearly a fleet belonging to the Galan race, entering attack positions ahead of the Cycro fleet!

Shalo’s gaze flickered within the battle zone, and he let out a cold laugh, offering no objection. He was currently enduring a combined assault from three Blade Emperors and was at a distinct disadvantage, though he could hold on for a short while longer.

The Galan warships continued to pour from the giant wormhole—their numbers quickly exceeding one thousand, then two, then three thousand. The ships emerging from the wormhole possessed the ability for short-range instantaneous jumps; they rapidly configured into offensive formations, their agility suggesting they were fighter craft rather than mere warships!

The Blade Emperors managed to encircle and destroy another high-stage Fourth-Tier being. One of them glanced toward the sky and performed a silent calculation.

This Galan fleet felt distinctly strange to him. At this current stage, even Yang Ying could not use wormholes for direct troop deployment. The technology to create wormholes was a navigation method superior to spatial jump technology. Yang Ying was certain the Galan race had not mastered this technique, meaning the appearance of this fleet was clearly linked to some hidden factor.