Chapter 426

Chapter 426

Ambrose stood before a building in the city center, the planet's administrative center.

Alva stood at his side.

Ambrose pulled off his gloves, tossed them casually to the ground, flexed his wrists, and re-gripped his sword before striding straight inside, his mental power flooding into the entire building as he walked.

Guards in the corridor ahead barely had time to approach, rifles raised, before Alanson behind them took them out with a thrown knife.

Ambrose didn't even pause, striding forward unimpeded toward the main floor of the building—the core of the entire administrative center, where all commands were issued and executed.

A short distance from the door, Alva moved ahead and shouldered it open. Ambrose walked in without missing a beat.

Inside was a spacious meeting room—more like a hall than a room, with a long central table packed with people.

As Ambrose stepped in, everyone turned to look, holographic screens before each seat streaming with information.

The room went deathly quiet. The guards inside reacted swiftly, leveling their weapons at him.

A man at the table stood up, his face twisted with fury. He didn't even bother to acknowledge Ambrose, instead addressing a soldier beside him, "Go tell your commanding officer to—"

He didn't get to finish.

A flood of people entered behind Ambrose, weapons raised, surrounding the conference table in a tight ring, muzzles aimed at everyone inside.

Even the guards hesitated, then lowered their weapons.

Ambrose looked around the room. It was impressive—high ceilings, a row of bookshelves along one wall.

He set his sword on the table casually, but kept his hand on it.

Beside him was the head of the table. The man sitting there flinched as Ambrose set down the blade, then rose and joined the guards.

Ambrose smiled. "I'd rather not get rough with an old man."

Despite his words, his hand stayed on the sword. Once the man got up, Ambrose sat down in the head seat with ease.

As soon as he sat down, the others hesitantly got to their feet.

Alva, standing at his side, gestured for them to leave, his tone stiff. "You can go."

A middle-aged man worked up the courage to ask, "What does this mean?"

Alva just stared at him coldly, saying nothing more. Alanson beside him took over, speaking patiently, "This meeting room, and this whole planet, now belong to us. But don't worry, we're not going to kill anyone, as long as you don't resist."

He said the last part softly.

He raised his voice slightly. "Alright, you're free to go. The route to the docking bays is open to you, but don't hang around anywhere else."

...

Ye Mo saw bloodstains along the way, bodies slumped in alleys and streets, and wreckage of security droids scattered everywhere.

The fighting seemed to be wrapping up.

The supply planet also had its share of ordinary residents. Most people Ye Mo ran into fled in panic at the sight of him; only a few raised their weapons, and even then, they usually fired wildly before running off.

It made Ye Mo uneasy—like a beast covered in blood stumbling into a civilized world.

Being watched. Being feared.

The flare had landed in front of the planet's administrative center.

Ye Mo stopped on a nearby rooftop and crouched down to observe. The administrative center looked quiet, seemed normal—no one at the entrance.

He dropped down to a windowsill below, about to take another look.

Then the alarm that had been blaring across the planet since they arrived suddenly stopped, replaced by an electronic voice.

[Put down your weapons. Stop resisting. The port is open. This planet has been taken. Everyone can leave freely, but we don't guarantee the safety of those who resist.]

The message kept repeating, over and over.

On billboards and holographic screens across the streets, a symbol flashed—fire and sword crossed.

Ye Mo looked up, surprised. "It's over?"

Theodore answered, [At least here. There might still be small skirmishes elsewhere.]

But it was basically over—the most important administrative center had fallen, meaning the planet had changed hands.

Theodore wasn't surprised by how fast it happened. It was just one planet, and they'd sent so many Graths. Otherwise, he wouldn't have agreed to let Ye Mo come along. He'd figured Ye Mo was safer here than back in the old place—the biggest risk was being spotted on the way, and he was great at faking data to fool warships.

Data doesn't lie. Was this place more dangerous than the Rift?

If the Graths hadn't been worn out killing the Insect Tide in the Rift—and couldn't fly—they wouldn't have been stuck in the old place for so long.

The auto-camera that had been following Ye Mo hovered beside him, its round body spinning, its mechanical exterior somehow looking like it couldn't believe what it was hearing.

[? Don't joke. Look, the center's still fine—they must have hacked the comms system.]

[Hope nobody falls for it.]

[I doubt these space pirates have that kind of tech. They've never had real tech talent or culture—even with the best gear, it's all just for show.]

[Even if the takeover is real, so what? They might try to extort us, but they wouldn't dare kill our people. Space pirates have never killed citizens of major nations. They only hurt people in secret, and with this much attention on them...]

Theodore reached out with a tendril of mental power and took control of the round camera.

It slowly turned back into a long-haired white cat perched on Ye Mo's shoulder.

He wrapped himself around Ye Mo's neck and licked his cheek. "We did it."

Theodore couldn't understand those people—they thought a beast that could kill a tiger was a tame dog they could push around.

After all, no Grath had ever died in the Rift, or at the hands of a King Insect.

Either don't make enemies of the Graths, or lock them down with the harshest means possible—never give them a single chance to get to you. If it were Theodore, he wouldn't have even let metal for building warships exist in the old place.

Ye Mo, after the initial excitement, felt a little guilty. "So Yisang must be really busy right now?"

He regretted not staying to help—he'd rushed over early and hadn't done much.

...

Fiona stood guard at the port, tasked with taking control of it as planned. When she heard the announcement echoing across the planet, she wasn't excited—she was confused. "That was... a little too easy."

From the moment they'd entered this planet, everything had gone suspiciously smooth.

Belinda wiped the blood from the side of her face. "It's just the sky getting in our way."

Fiona didn't say anything else—she just smiled.

She felt Ambrose's mental energy spreading over the planet.

Then came a deafening crash, and everyone looked up.

In the sky, a massive insectoid creature was slowly descending toward the ground, and in the process, many smaller insects were falling off its body.

"The insectoids are already making the jump—looks like things aren't going well at the Rift. I'll go handle this—Shalom, you keep watch here."

Before Shalom could respond, Fiona had already flung her sword, shattering the window, then followed it out, leaping off the tall building and disappearing.

Shalom seemed used to this and had no objections. The Graths had long ago established a strict hierarchy through repeated clashes, otherwise their incompatible mental energies would have them fighting hundreds of times over who gets to claim this area.

Shalom was still preoccupied with other matters. He said to Belinda, "Go mobilize the warships and bring the others over. Cyril's in a tough spot—Yisang has probably already figured it out. If we don't get back soon, he's going to be angry. Cyril's with him now, who knows how that's going. Is Brian over there too?"

Someone nearby chimed in, "Yes, we figured Brian would definitely let something slip if he knew."

Belinda scoffed. "Stupid boys. I'm heading over with my team now—hope they can at least keep an eye on the kid."

Shalom, meanwhile, gazed at the sky outside, looking more worried than usual.

...

In the square, the crowd, which had stayed calm through the initial attack and the announcement that the planet was occupied and they'd be expelled, now panicked and fled—a rare sight.

The massive insectoid was covered in swarms of smaller insects—it was the transport vehicle of the swarm. Wherever it landed, an entire insectoid colony had migrated there.

It would stop on planets that the King Insect considered good for living. Now, its massive form blotted out the sky and stretched across nearly the whole horizon, but this massive creature itself would later be devoured by the even more ferocious King Insect and its own kind.

Caspar, rushing through the streets outside, also saw it. He stopped and looked up. "With all of us gone, the Rift couldn't hold, of course. Yisang's going to have a tough time—good thing I wasn't the one left behind."

A moment later, he looked up again, a hint of panic in his eyes, turning to Lika beside him. "Cyril's there with him too—Cyril won't get hurt, right?"

Lika frowned, speaking rarely. "I've never seen a Grath die to insectoid fangs."

Caspar wasn't convinced by that reasoning; it didn't feel reassuring. "Brother, you've only lived so long—what if there's a first time?"

Lika fell silent, his brow furrowing deeper.

Caspar pinned a scurrying insectoid to the wall with his blade, then said regretfully, "I should've brought Cyril along, kept him with us. I definitely could've taken care of him."

Elsewhere.

Ye Mo was still crouching guiltily on the windowsill in a corner.