The Pantheon of Roman, the most sacred place in the hearts of the Roman people, was the very source of their faith.

Yet, before the towering, magnificent gates of the Pantheon today, nearly a thousand bodies lay sprawled, every single one killed by a violently twisted neck or a crushed skull. In the plaza near the temple, ten heavy war chariots were ripped to shreds, their Roman soldiers reduced to gruesome paste, blood spraying across the ground.

Hundreds of thousands of elite Roman warriors rushed toward the Pantheon from all directions in panicked disarray; they had to defend their faith, guard their deities. But these warriors could not even approach the holy site; they were mercilessly intercepted and sniped down while still tens of kilometers away.

The Pantheon stood upon a vast grassland, a place typically lush with flowers and grass—grass that grew waist-deep, and flower stalks that reached the neck, dotted with dozens of substantial groves. But today, all of it had transformed into a horrifying killing ground, unleashing a despair-inducing lethality that turned the advancing Roman forces into a river of blood, never allowing them to draw close to the Pantheon by even a single step.

The slender blades of grass had elongated to hundreds of meters, their thin leaves acting like blades cast from alloy, slicing through the void with a ghastly whistling sound, leaving behind pale green afterimages. Any Roman soldier struck by these leaves, even those encased in Roman-manufactured energy armor, was effortlessly torn into bloody chunks.

The once tender blossoms had become terrifyingly grotesque. Their petals had morphed into gaping maws several meters wide, suddenly springing up from the undergrowth to swallow several, sometimes a dozen, Roman soldiers whole. The intensely corrosive sap instantly dissolved the bodies of these unlucky souls, turning them into nourishment for the grassland, which only made the flora grow more luxuriant.

As for the towering forests, their capacity to kill far surpassed that of the flowers and grass.

Thanks to the exceptional natural environment of the Thirteen Star System, the trees here grew exceptionally tall, easily reaching fifty or even eighty to one hundred meters high. Today, these colossal trees seemed to uproot themselves, drawing their thick roots from the earth like legs, moving rapidly across the ground. Their sturdy branches twisted into arms, flailing wildly, sending Roman soldiers flying into the air; those struck had their very organs liquefied from the impact.

When Roman battleships and fighters swept overhead, these giant timbers would raise their arms, launching their thick boughs like missiles. These wooden projectiles, now harder than alloy steel, were fired with incredible velocity. Even the main battleships the Romans had deployed here were rocked violently, struggling to maintain forward momentum. Smaller fighter craft were obliterated mid-flight by direct impacts from the wooden shards.

Lily, wreathed in an intense, glowing green mist, hovered above the plaza before the Pantheon, watching the butchered Roman warriors with an expressionless face.

"You won't disturb Xiao. Anyone who dares approach must die!" Lily smiled, her eyes narrowing, the expression utterly sweet and tender. My Xiao, she affirmed to herself.

The distant attack from the Roman soldiers suddenly ceased, followed immediately by a tide of Elven warriors surging forward. These Elves shone with green light from their eyes, and powerful waves of psychic energy swept the surroundings as they began contesting Lily's control over the flora.

The combined mental power of tens of thousands of Elven warriors exceeded the limit of the mental strength Lily currently possessed.

But Lily moved—Gu Xiechen had gifted her three ancient immortal artifacts on Volus Prime. She drew the delicate jade knife and tossed it casually toward the void.

A foot-long dagger, intensely white and dazzling, sparkling like crystal under the sun, shot high into the sky. At Lily’s mental command, countless shards of pure, brilliant white light, each barely an inch long, swept out in all directions in dense patterns. In a single strike, the heads of the tens of thousands of surging Elven soldiers and the ten thousand Roman warriors holding the rear simultaneously flew skyward, spraying pale gold and pale green blood everywhere—a scene so horrific it resembled hell itself.

"Time to shatter! Roman warriors, do you still have the courage to fight on?" Lily sneered, a mocking smile playing on her lips. Based on her understanding of the Romans, having suffered such massive casualties, they should have retreated to regroup for the next assault—though usually, that next wave took two or three months to materialize!

The unexpected happened. The normally timid and weak Roman soldiers, led by a contingent of high-ranking fighters, formed perfect ranks and charged forward, roaring their battle cry.

"For Roman, Advance!"

The slogan was simple, but the Roman warriors bellowed it with ferocity, their cries rising wave after wave, crashing against the shore like a tsunami, relentless and continuous. The astonishing momentum caused Lily’s complexion to turn ashen. She stared at the charging Romans, knitted her brows, and gritted her teeth, unleashing every ounce of her power.

Sharp eagle shrieks echoed from all directions. Countless fist-sized green light eagles burst forth from Lily’s vicinity, streaking toward the Roman ranks with long, green contrails. Massive explosions erupted; the destructive power of each exploding light eagle equaled that of a standard battleship main cannon. Thousands of Roman soldiers were pulverized into dust within the brilliant green flash, yet endless numbers of Romans kept pouring in from every side, their sole focus being to reach Lily and unleash a mental shockwave with all their might.

Lily became slightly panicked, and her momentary loss of composure caused her attacks to suddenly weaken. The Romans seized the opportunity, closing the distance. Powerful mental impacts ripped through the void, shattering the dancing grass blades and flowers, screaming as they hurtled toward Lily.

Suddenly, several Doom Guard Knights materialized near Lily and unleashed simultaneous mental shocks that slammed directly into her.

A mouthful of pale green blood erupted. Lily grunted and was flung backward, colliding heavily with the massive doors of the Pantheon, forcing the half-open entrance to swing wide with a resounding crash.

Inside the Pantheon, Ducate, his eyes burning crimson, was savagely hunting down the temple priests scurrying about in panic. Clad in the Flowing Cloud Armor, his hands transformed into razor-sharp blades, he moved like a whirlwind through the dimly lit sanctuary, slaughtering the priests until their heads rolled everywhere, the ground slick with pale gold blood.

A storage ring floated beside him. Wherever Ducate passed, towering statues were continuously sucked into the ring. He let out a triumphant laugh: "These statues are all Divine Crystals, forged entirely from Divine Crystals! You fools, you used such precious energy stones to make statues! Hahaha! Where is your God?"

A few priests suddenly turned and attacked Ducate, chanting strange incantations. The statues beside them erupted in dense light, coalescing into vague human shapes, ready to pounce on the priests. But Ducate reacted with terrifying speed. Six wings suddenly sprouted from his back, beating violently, and he lunged like a bolt of black lightning toward the shadowy figures, swallowing them whole.

A brilliant black light surged over Ducate’s body as he threw his head back, roaring with utter satisfaction: "What pure psychic conglomerates! Are there any more? I want more!"

The priests screamed in terror; some actually died of fright upon witnessing this.

What had they seen? Ducate, the demon, had devoured deities!

Amidst maniacal laughter, Ducate glared with his scarlet eyes at the few surviving priests. With a sharp cry of pain, their bodies spontaneously burst into intense flame from within. An invisible, colorless fire consumed them, and in the blink of an eye, they were reduced to ash, not even a wisp remaining. The panicked souls of the priests fled out, hesitating where to escape, but Ducate swallowed their spirits in a single gulp.

In barely fifteen minutes, Ducate had turned the Pantheon into a scene of carnage, blood flowing everywhere, corpses strewn about. His speed was overwhelming; in that short time, he had swept through hundreds of large and small halls, killing nearly ten thousand temple priests. Ducate mercilessly consumed their flesh and souls, appropriating all their power.

Finally, Ducate arrived at the side hall secretly dedicated to the Mother Goddess of Roman. The High Priest of Roman, cloaked in black robes, stood before two statues of the Mother Goddess, his gaze serene as still water, looking gently upon Ducate.

"My child!" the High Priest extended a hand toward Ducate. "Did you absorb the black bead Pol Pot gave you?"

Ducate paused, his six wings fluttering briefly. He growled deeply:

"So what if I did?"

The High Priest gave a strange, knowing smile and spoke softly: "Then that is excellent. Pol Pot was a good child; the probability of success was only one in a thousand, but you actually absorbed it! My child, what can I say? You have made a tremendous contribution to us Romans!"

"Contribution?" Ducate chuckled grimly. "Did I also contribute to Roman by killing so many priests?"

The High Priest did not answer Ducate’s question. He merely trembled as he raised his staff and slammed it forcefully onto the ground. The High Priest’s body ignited silently, his soul even burning within the faint golden flame. He smiled strangely at Ducate, his expression filled with an indescribable sense of accomplishment.

"Pol Pot and the others were good children. If they hadn't brought back those ancestral records, I would never have realized the secret hidden within the Mother Goddess statues!"

A massive surge of power condensed within the High Priest. Before Ducate could react, the High Priest’s body turned to ash, and a fist-sized golden halo suspended above the staff suddenly transformed into a bizarre rune that plunged into Ducate’s body. Ducate staggered, feeling his strength swell to the point of bursting, as if he had just swallowed a nuclear bomb that detonated inside him.

A torrent of violent black light erupted from Ducate’s core. The light seemed alive, lunging toward the Mother Goddess statues, which quickly absorbed it. Visible streams of black energy rapidly circulated within the two crystal statues. The female statue, carved from crystal, slowly raised its head and unleashed a blinding, sharp beam of light. This powerful ray instantly pierced the barriers of space, flashing several times before shooting toward an extremely distant sector of the cosmos.

Ducate watched the statue, which quickly returned to its original state, with confusion. He felt manipulated, but what was the intention behind what the High Priest had risked his life to achieve?

Shaking his head, the crimson light in Ducate’s eyes burned even hotter. He spat contemptuously at the two statues, then thrust them into his storage ring. After thoroughly looting the sanctuary and sweeping all statues from every hall, he stalked out of the Pantheon, completely satisfied.

Just then, Lily, having been struck down, collided with the massive Pantheon door. Her slender body rebounded sharply from the heavy wood, landing right in front of Ducate.

Ducate roared in fury, enraged, and charged toward the Doom Guard Knights.

In the vast void, the beam of light spat out by the Roman Mother Goddess statue was traveling at an unimaginable speed, crossing one or dozens of star systems almost every blink of an eye. The beam streaked through space, arriving at the Star Alliance territory after about forty minutes.

The light beam released a certain special signal frequency—frequencies so faint that several six-star civilizations it passed by never detected them. However, as it traversed certain instruments secretly placed in the void, the signals embedded in the light were absorbed and rapidly converted into a specific language and script.

On the border of the Flame Dragon Empire, within an extremely remote asteroid belt, three colossal Nightmare Octopuses, each over twenty thousand meters long, circled a tiny metal outpost, only about three hundred meters in diameter. This outpost was luxuriously appointed, equipped with everything needed for survival. Five handsome, imposing youths, looking like celestial beings, lay lazily on soft couches, staring expressionlessly out the viewport at a few meteors whipping past.

After a while, the youths yawned boredly and began a listless conversation.

"That pack from the Wolf Clan seems to have hit a snag; they took a huge loss."

"It's a good thing, too. They were embarrassed, so they went to bully those five-star civilizations. Otherwise, those few might have been wiped out along with Davilms."

"Oh, the Star Alliance departments were taken out in one sweep. High command has issued orders: to restore the normal administrative functions of the Alliance, the headquarters will be rebuilt in about half a month. The new Dragon Star Envoy will also take residence there."

"Who do you think killed Davilms? Terrifying. So many bloodline brothers... suffering such heavy losses! But it has nothing to do with us. Our families are hidden throughout the Alliance; we suffered no losses."

"Right, nothing to do with us. What we need to worry about now is how to pass this boring rotation! We still have one hundred and seventy years before this tour of duty ends!"

"So boring. I want women, hot women! Really, so boring!"

After some idle chatter, the youths yawned simultaneously. Just then, a black crystal sphere, about a meter in diameter, suddenly materialized on the floor before them, a faint black light rapidly flickering across its surface. One youth casually sat up, frowning, and mocked:

"Which liaison station brother is bored? Using a signal this dense to tease us... Oh, my God!" The youth suddenly sprang up, screaming hoarsely: "Brothers, am I seeing things? Six spiral gene chains? It’s… it’s the Romans!"

The eyes of the other four youths flashed with cold light. They jumped up simultaneously, all five rushing to the crystal sphere, staring intently.

Then, all five placed their palms on the sphere. Their lips moved silently for a moment before they cried out in unison: "Yes, it is the six spiral gene chains unique to the Romans! It's the Romans, the damned Romans! They even forcibly merged with our noble genes! These wretched scum!"

All five shouted at once: "Quick, transmit the intelligence back! We've made a massive contribution! We’ve made a massive contribution!"

Another blinding beam of intense light shot out of this small metal outpost, followed by dozens of sharp beams that constantly radiated from this location out into the vast starry expanse.

Dozens of identical metal outposts received the signal fluctuations carried by the intense light from the Thirteen Star System. The bloodline descendants of the Council of Elders within these outposts, filled with both excitement and rage, rapidly forwarded this information.

"Six spiral gene chains discovered… confirmed to be Roman—Signal source: a remote minor stellar system. Recommend immediate dispatch of reconnaissance fleets for investigation. Suggest immediate mobilization of the nearest low-grade civilized nations to form a joint fleet to intercept that signal."

Shortly after the signal was transmitted, a command of the highest possible level swept through all the secret outposts of the Council of Elders: "All units mobilize, all units mobilize! Deploy all available forces, surround that small stellar system, eliminate all Romans! Take back what belongs to us! Wash away our disgrace!"

Emergency signals, dense as sparks, flew across the universe, passing through star region after star region until they finally rushed past the known limits of space imaginable to the beings within the Star Alliance, traveling to unbelievably distant, far-flung reaches of the cosmos.

All signals repeated the same message over and over:

"Six spiral gene chains discovered… confirmed to be Roman. Six spiral gene chains discovered… confirmed to be Roman. Six Roman gene chains discovered... confirmed to be Roman." Following this, signals traveled back toward the Star Alliance at a terrifyingly high speed, originating from all corners of the universe. The nearest signals, even utilizing the fastest transportation methods currently known to the Alliance, would take tens of thousands of years to arrive.

The content of these signals was almost identical—stark, yet filled with killing intent that sent shivers down the spine:

"Sons of the Demon-Crushing Dragon... take up your weapons and attack any Roman you find! We are on our way back!"

We are on our way back!