Published at 5th of February 2026 6:36 am

Chapter 1968 Pressure

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Bam Bam Bam

The ground artillery of the Brown Army pounded the opposing side with savage, unrelenting ferocity. The thunder of the cannons rolled endlessly across the battlefield, shaking the land itself. It was painfully clear that those manning the artillery had completely abandoned any thought of conserving ammunition for a decisive moment or saving supplies for the next day... they fired and fired without pause, as though they knew their lives might not even last another hour.

And that was the truth-

"Forward!!"

The Black-Golden Army continued its overwhelming onslaught, pressing forward in perfect formation, advancing as though they were towering giants trampling helpless ants beneath their feet. Their momentum was absolute, their presence crushing, leaving no room for hesitation or retreat.

This battle was never supposed to be this easy-especially considering that the Black-Golden Army was clearly inferior in numbers. Yet the utter lack of organization within the Brown Army, and more importantly, the complete absence of leadership and the withering of their fighting spirit, made the clash feel less like a war and more like massacre. It was as if a trained army was cutting down a group of desperate highway bandits.

Even the clashes between World Cataclysms high above the battlefield had devolved into nothing more than a brutal chase, one side fleeing while the other pursued relentlessly!

Katchaaa!

A bolt of blinding white light tore through the sky between the two armies on the ground, splitting the heavens apart. In its wake, a lone figure appeared atop a raised rock, standing tall and unmoving, a slender spear with a jagged, twisted head gripped firmly in his hand. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, but the severity etched into his expression and the sharp, tightly focused eyes-keen and predatory like those of a hawk-gave him an air of experience far beyond his apparent age.

Then-Bam-the young man slammed the butt of his spear into the rock beneath him. Sparks erupted in all directions, forcing the vanguards of both armies to halt and turn their attention toward him. He raised his arm and gestured toward the Black-Golden Army, bringing their advance to an immediate stop, before turning to address the Brown Army in a clear, commanding voice:

"Soldiers of the Empire of Twilight Spectrum, I am General Raiden. You have my respect and you will keep your lives. There is no longer any need for you to continue this futile battle. Lay down your weapons, and Marshal Caesar will personally see to your arrangements!"

"You murderers... murderers!!"

The Brown Army's commander, entrenched among his men, roared in uncontrollable fury. His voice cracked with rage and despair. "You slaughtered them! You wiped them all out in a single night-every single one of the ruling family!!" He pointed accusingly at Raiden. "We will not lay down our arms until we destroy you, or until we follow our leaders into death!!"

""

The soldiers of the Empire of Twilight Spectrum exchanged uneasy glances. Sweat poured from every pore of their bodies as fear and doubt gnawed at their resolve. Those words shattered what little morale they still had left. They did not want to die!!!

"It seems I'll have to spill more blood before the rest of you understand the situation. Very well."

Raiden spoke with cold resolve. He slowly raised his hand, preparing to give the signal to resume the merciless advance.

"Wait!"

Whoooosh

"Hm?"

Raiden turned sharply toward the source of the sudden interruption-it was a small warship cutting through the air.

Frowning in surprise, Raiden lifted his gaze toward the sky, wondering how the World Cataclysms and the tightly sealed Note Gen-4 fleet encircling the planet had allowed such a vessel to pass. The answer revealed itself moments later... an entire fleet of unidentified spacecraft emerged on the northern horizon, their silhouettes filling the distant sky.

With his exceptionally sharp naked eye, Raiden quickly made out their general outlines. After a brief moment, understanding dawned upon him, and he gave a subtle nod. He then returned his attention to the small fighter craft, his posture tightening with caution.

They were from the Seven Thrones Millennium Empire.

Kssh

The small craft descended and landed beside the general of the Empire of Twilight Specters' forces. Several figures stepped out, each radiating formidable pressure-every one of them within the realm of combat Emperors. It was obvious that this overwhelming individual strength was what had allowed them to pass through the encirclement of the Note Gen-4 fleet

without provoking an attack.

Step Step

The individuals who emerged from the craft were grotesque to an extreme degree. Their legs, from ankle to knee, bent unnaturally forward like drawn bows. Their bodies were slender at the waist yet unnervingly broad at the shoulders, their arms long and disproportionate, and their skulls pulled slightly backward in an unsettling manner.

Overall, their appearance was deeply intimidating-as though they were a race engineered for nothing but pursuit, slaughter, and relentless killing.

"What brings the Seven Thrones Millennium Empire here?" Raiden spoke in a powerful, resonant voice that carried across the battlefield. "This is the territory of the Double Centennial Cradle Empire."

The tension in the air grew unbearably heavy, thick enough to suffocate. For the soldiers of the Twilight Spectrum Empire, it was even worse-they stood frozen between two humiliations: surrendering to their enemies, or accepting that their homeland had already been declared part of yet another empire without their consent. Their grips on their weapons tightened, knuckles pale, hearts pounding in confusion and despair.

"What do you mean we're standing on the land of the Double Centennial Cradle Empire?" One of the figures who had descended from the craft burst into laughter. "Hahaha-what a ridiculous name, and what laughable dreams!" He waved his hand dismissively, as if brushing away dust. "This is the land of the Centennial Twilight Spectrum Empire!"

"There is no such thing as the Centennial Twilight Spectrum Empire anymore," Raiden replied coldly, his tone sharp as steel. "We crushed their ruling class within a single hour, and subdued Planet Kraithorn in just two. Their fate is no different from that of all our enemies-extinction or submission." "Child's play." The man waved his hand twice, utterly unconcerned, his posture relaxed to the point of insult. "If you think those words amount to a threat, then you're still far too young. Your entire empire-still far too young, far too

naive."

"If you see it as child's play, then withdraw," Raiden said, pointing firmly toward the ship. The veins on his forehead bulged more with every passing second, his patience visibly eroding. "What exactly are you doing here?"

"These are unclaimed lands. We may come and go as we please," the envoy of the Seven Thrones Millennium Empire said, lifting his chin slightly, his voice dripping with entitlement. "And we have decided to annex this planet-along with all the planets once belonging to the Twilight Spectrum Empire-to protect their inhabitants from your brutality."

"What nonsense is this?!" Raiden roared. "You want to occupy them to prevent other powers from occupying them?! Is that the excuse you've settled on?"

"We agree!"

The general of the Twilight Spectrums' forces suddenly dropped to his knees before the envoys of the Seven Thrones Millennium Empire, his movements frantic and desperate. "Please, save us from the oppression of the dark ones, from the tyranny of the brutal! We beg you!"

"|||

Once again, the soldiers of the Twilight Spectrum Empire felt a sharp, nauseating pain twist in their stomachs. Shame burned hotter than fear. How had things fallen this far? How had their pride been ground into something so

pitiful?

"Did you hear that?" The envoy of the Seven Thrones Millennium Empire smiled toward Raiden, a slow, mocking smile, then gestured for him to leave with a thick, contempt-laced tone. "Go play somewhere else."

"You..." Raiden clenched his teeth fiercely, the sound almost audible. "Do you have any idea what this kind of pressure will lead to in the end?"

All armies of the Multiple Centennial Cradle Empire had standing orders: negotiate, compromise, and retreat before any potential conflict with the Seven Thrones Millennium Empire.

That was why the Note-4 fleet had not annihilated the incoming armada. That was why this small delegation had been allowed to pass unchallenged. And that was why Raiden had not killed them yet...

This scene had repeated itself many times across many battlefields-and with

every repetition, their greed grew deeper, their arrogance bolder, their provocations more shameless.

What should he do orders and halt the annexation every remaining planet of the Twilight Spectrum Empire? That would be humiliation beyond humiliation-an insult carved into history itself.

"Haha-what will pressure lead to?" the envoy scoffed. "What can you possibly

do?" He clapped mockingly beside him, then looked at Raiden with open

disgust. "Now get lost!"

Hoom

At that moment, General Raiden's ring flared with light for a brief instant. His

expression shifted-first to pure shock, then to a wide, unrestrained smile that sent a chill through everyone watching.

"... What is that expression?" The envoy of the Seven Thrones Millennium

Empire frowned deeply. "Did you receive news that your mother is getting married or something?"

"You asked what pressure leads to..."

Raiden's eyes began to glow with an intense, crackling light-bzzzt bzzzt-as he

lifted his spear, energy spiraling around its shaft.

"Pressure leads to explosion."

BOOOOOOOOOOOOM

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