Published at 14th of December 2025 8:43 am

Chapter 1829 Demolition

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Planet Apocalypse - The Imperial Palace.

Bam

Ranther slammed the massive War Hall door with his foot, the sound echoing powerfully through the cavernous chamber, and stormed inside with a clear, seething anger. "Where is that horned bastard?!"

The hall, overflowing with generals, officers, and government officials, a hall that had normally thrummed with constant movement, discussion, and strategic planning, froze instantly at Ranther's thunderous shout. The sheer presence and commanding aura of Ranther within the Grave Empire rivaled that of Marshal Aru himself, instilling respect and fear alike in anyone present. "Here!" Aru raised his hand, stepping slightly from the center of his numerous attendants. "You've taken far too long, you fanged rogue."

"What exactly is going on here?!" Ranther growled, pushing aside anyone in his path with forceful shoves, anger radiating off him in waves. "Why was I not informed beforehand about the strike against the Holva Millennium Empire?!"

"I told you-you're late!" Aru replied nonchalantly, his gaze fixed intently on the high platform displaying the live battlefield feed. "You've been away for seven whole days, Ranther."

"You know how maddening it is to deal with those two stubborn old men!" Ranther muttered as he advanced beside Aru, now focusing on the platform himself. "... By the heavens, what exactly transpired during those seven days?!" "We received a brand-new 10-fleet armada, accompanied by an utterly unexpected surprise," Aru said, a wide, almost gleeful smile spreading across his face. "Among the forty new fleets that arrived were ten fleets of the Note Family-4 Gen- Note of Supremacy, Note of Destruction, and Note of the Flood -all fully fourth-Generation!"

"What?!" Even Ranther's anger vanished, replaced by disbelief.

Reports had been arriving steadily about the construction of the Destruction Note-4, accompanied by simplified assessments of their design and points of strength. Every officer and general had been waiting anxiously, hoping to witness at least a single fourth-generation vessel-but now ten entire fleets had already arrived? The scale was beyond comprehension.

Ranther glanced at Aru, his eyes narrowing. "Is that why you decided to begin the attack early and put me in that situation? You wanted to test the new fleets, you horned bastard!?"

"The attack was scheduled a month from now anyway," Aru replied calmly, gesturing with his hand in a series of deliberate waves. "What's the harm in moving it up slightly, before word spreads of the new fleets and our enemies adjust their defenses? Secondly, I launched the strike the instant I received word that you had successfully gained access to the Guardians' presence." "After I entered?" Ranther's brilliant yellow eyes flashed with intensity. "Did they intend to attack me only after receiving news of the strike?!"

"Of course not," Aru continued, his gaze returning to the platform. "I gave you opportunities to present your case to them-opportunities they could not possibly refuse. My goal was simply to advance the negotiations a little... When they see that you seek their favor while simultaneously observing us striking another Millennium Empire, they will understand, first: that we genuinely respect them and seek no personal conflict, as is evident in how we treat them differently from others. And second: even patience has its limits."

Then he turned fully toward Ranther, a subtle seriousness settling across his expression. "I cannot imagine they caused any problems for you after receiving the news, right? They will not. They will take a step back and choose to observe. The Holva Millennium Empire is far from weak. This war will serve as an effective prelude to whatever may unfold between us in the near future, and will ensure that we maintain the upper hand strategically while still respecting the balance of power."

"...." Ranther's yellow eyes narrowed as he furrowed his brows with intensity, a mix of disbelief, fury, and frustration brewing within him.

At first, the two elders had erupted in anger, deeply insulted that while they were locked in negotiations over strategic benefits, a potential ally of theirs was being attacked simultaneously. The audacity had angered them to the core, yet this fire of outrage was brief, melting under the cold reality of the situation.

Soon enough, Ranther was instructed to step aside and follow through with the official procedures alongside the Empire's senior administrators. They even delivered the words directly, with a calm yet ominous tone: "Since you insist on us watching, we will watch very, very closely, and we mean every detail."

A statement dripping with layered threats, a veiled warning cloaked in politeness-but unmistakably a declaration of power.

Still... at the very least, the agreement that had been painstakingly reached didn't change.

Aro... despite his young age, so young that calling him a toddler would not have been far from the truth, possessed a mind far beyond his years. His strategic thinking, his cold political calculations, and his instinctive grasp of warfare were genuinely terrifying. Even Ranther, a seasoned tactician, could not ignore the chilling brilliance of the boy's mind.

"What do you think will happen next? Will they simply sit back and watch silently?" Ranther muttered, shaking his head with a mixture of caution and

unease.

"I fear they will manipulate the doubled profits from our trade agreements," he continued, "turning them into support for the Holva Millennium Empire merely to save face and maintain their pride."

"Let them do as they please," Aro replied, his smile sharp and merciless, cutting through the tension in the war room like a blade. "If they think they can meddle, we'll simply destroy more than they could ever imagine supporting. We will show them the consequences of crossing us." He gestured to the massive platform before them, brimming with detailed projections and real-time data. "Look carefully. What do you see?"

"... What exactly is this?" Ranther's eyelid twitched uncontrollably as he tried to process the scene.

He was now staring at a sprawling expanse of massive stone fragments drifting through the void, ranging from small, jagged rocks to colossal chunks the size of towering mountains. Gigantic quantities of water floated weightlessly amidst the debris, molten rock slowly drifting and twisting through the chaos, all moving as if in a slow, methodical ballet of destruction...

And amidst this chaos, vessels of the Flood Note class darted rapidly between the debris, weaving through space like predators, engaging enemy warships, or launching precision strikes against World Cataclysms before retreating with

terrifying speed.

"This..." Aro's smile became colder, sharper, almost predatory. "...is what was once known as Planet Draklon."

"......!!?!"

Ranther's eyes shot open wide in shock, his neck slowly turning toward Aru as his gaze bore into him, a mixture of rage and disbelief churning within him. His stare seemed to try to etch that infuriating, provoking smile into his memory forever.

"Draklon? You destroyed Planet Draklon... you despicable fiend!?" he shouted, voice rising with ucontrollable fury.

Planet Draklon had been the birthplace of Guardian Sylas and his ruling family.

Tens of millions of years ago, they were born there, grew there, and expanded their dominion from that very world. It had served as the family's capital for millions of years, a hub of power, prosperity, and legacy. Eventually, after centuries of growth and consolidation, they had made the painstaking decision to relocate to a larger, richer, and far more defensible world to better secure

their future.

Draklon then became a sacred sanctuary for the family. It was where their

children were trained, raised, and molded into the next generation of officers, leaders, and administrators. It was hallowed ground, the strategic and symbolic heart of their lineage, and the world's exposed throat-a place no one dared to

approach carelessly.

Its importance was immense:

While the current Holfa capital was permanently defended by three fleets,

Draklon itself had five fleets stationed around it at all times, forming an impregnable ring of protection. Its prestige, its symbolic value, and its military significance were unparalleled within the Mid Sector 99.

And now... this was the planet before them.

Aru had reduced it to floating debris, shattered fragments of stone and

resources.

Planet Draklon-one of the most renowned and strategically vital planets in the entire Mid Sector 99- had been obliterated into dust and drifting rubble. The horned, despicable fiend had just turned the entire sector against them, leaving nothing but chaos, devastation, and disbelief in his wake. Ranther could hardly believe his eyes. This destruction would change the balance of power forever. The entire Mid Sector 99 would now bear the scars of this audacious,

unthinkable act.

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