As for how to deal with Blin, Wyatt, and the rest—Graham had held dozens of meetings back in Edean. There were multiple contingency plans. Every senior officer had run the scenarios again and again in the simulators.
So when the order came down, the three fleets paused their bombardment at once. Each pulled nearly half its fighters and surged toward the Nightmare. Hundreds of warships shifted as well, moving to block any other enemy units from interfering.
The Nightmare was isolated within seconds.
Seen from far away, the void suddenly filled with broad blue streaks—like countless invisible fluorescent brushes dragging lines across the canvas of space. Those “strokes” were the engine trails of thousands of fighters, converging from every direction. They held equal spacing, like a gigantic net, and they didn’t fire. They simply relied on their numbers, steadily compressing the Nightmare’s room to maneuver.
Blin shot down several fighters and immediately saw it didn’t matter. The formation absorbed the losses without flinching. He understood their intent and tried to break out—but slipping between the ships was impossible now. Forcing it meant colliding with enemy planes that didn’t care if they died.
The only gaps left were covered by warships, waiting for him to take the bait. And as the net tightened, those gaps shrank further and further.
After a brief calculation, the Nightmare committed. It lunged for one opening—
—and the moment it cleared the ring, it vanished into a sea of explosions.
On the flagship, Graham watched the feed and couldn’t help smiling. Exactly as expected. The warships hammered the target for a full two minutes, enough firepower to shred a battleship into scraps.
A minute later, reports arrived from the three captains in quick succession: target confirmed destroyed.
The bridge erupted—cheers, clapping, relief.
The fleets pressed on toward Deep Space Base No. 2. By now, the outer turrets and outposts were almost completely wiped out. The surviving defenders were forced to fall back to the base’s perimeter, using the remaining fortifications and their last ships to make a final stand.
Deep Space Base No. 2 resembled a snowflake in structure, about 40 km across. The central tower formed the core, with shield generators at two ends. Along the tower’s body were sixteen Sakiel heavy laser cannons, twenty-four “Hive” missile launchers, and one hundred eighty seven-barrel 30mm rapid-fire anti-aircraft guns.
Six Y-shaped arms extended outward—each nearly 15 km long. They served as docking berths and shipyards for building warships. At each arm’s tip sat a Metal Storm Defense Tower and a long-range missile tower.
Now, facing the invading fleets, every barrel and launcher tracked the oncoming ships. When the enemy crossed into range, the base and its defending warships unleashed everything at once.
The crossfire immediately wove into a blinding lattice. Missiles with long, needle-thin tails traded back and forth. Fighters tangled again in chaotic dogfights. But the defenders were outnumbered three to one—and they could only hold by leaning on the base’s firepower. When the Third Fleet joined the engagement, the balance tipped sharply.
The three fleets tightened their ring around the base and traded at close range with the remaining defenders. The battle turned horrific. Every second, ships and fighters ignited and blew apart—and most of the wrecks belonged to Julian’s dwindling forces.
Continuous blasts, scattered fireballs, and rippling energy waves painted the battlefield in violent color. From inside the fight, it would have felt like flying through endless fireworks.
The base’s shields took punishing damage as well, strobing so hard that the already-chaotic space became almost impossible to look at.
…
Cole stood beside Graham, watching the feeds. “General, shouldn’t we go secure the mainframe?”
Graham waved him off. “Why the rush? We’ll go once we’ve fully occupied the place.”
“But if they’ve important information, they might blow the core early.”
Ogen smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ll have personnel protect the mainframe first.”
“Exactly,” Graham said. “Let professionals handle professional work. We’ll just watch.”
“Understood,” Cole said, and sat back down.
…
The final landing phase began.
By this point, every turret on the base had been destroyed. Wreckage littered the ground. The surviving robots had vanished into the shadows, firing only sporadic, token shots. The Third Fleet’s transport ships and carriers dropped tens of thousands of ground units with almost no resistance.
A small transport ship set down. Gandio—the Hell Piledriver—was the first to jump out, practically vibrating with excitement.
“Finally, it’s our turn. Where’s Wyatt? I’m going to tear it into pieces.”
Gunnar the Scarless Tyrant scanned the smoke-choked battlefield. “Don’t get cocky. I’ve heard it’s dangerous.”
Gandio snorted. “That’s only because it hasn’t met us. I’m going to find them and kill them all.”
Sili the Thorn Banshee flicked her gaze aside. “Do whatever you want. But that bitch Alika is mine.”
“This is a battlefield, not an arena, Sili!” Gunnar hefted his greatsword. “We split up. Whoever finds them first gets them.”
“Fine.” Sili pouted dramatically.
The three Demon Kings each took a route and dispersed with their squads.
Meanwhile, the landing force finished deploying. A small number of human soldiers were mixed in as well. Lieutenant General Adelaide had already organized everyone into teams, and now they spread to their assigned sectors. In under ten minutes, every access tunnel into the base was forcibly breached, and the machine army poured inside.
…
“Two-Dimensional Blade!” someone on the bridge shouted in excitement. “It’s finally here! It’s Wyatt!”
But Ogen spoke immediately. “No. That’s Target Three—Bit.”
Almost at the same time, another squad ran into an ambush. The first robots through an airlock had their heads detonate without warning. The units behind them pushed in while firing—and suffered the same fate. No one made it past the threshold.
Ogen’s voice hardened. “Target Four has appeared. General—should we send Gunnar’s team over?”
“General?”
Ogen glanced toward Graham and froze. The general hadn’t been listening. He wasn’t even watching the two enlarged feeds Ogen had highlighted.
Graham had been frowning for some time, staring at a smaller image like he was trying to solve a puzzle. Then he stood up so abruptly his chair rattled.
“No. Pull them back.”
“What?” Ogen thought he’d misheard.
“It’s a trap!” Graham raised his voice. “Recall them—everyone!”
Then he pointed at Cole and barked at the nearby guards:
“Seize him.”