Published at 21st of April 2026 6:31 am

Chapter 2103 Damir's madness

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The chaotic and relentless state in Mid sector 101 stretched on for an extended period, much longer than anyone could have imagined. This was a sector already steeped in centuries of unending wars and devastating destruction, wars that had ravaged every single planet in one way or another.

Nothing remained untouched: cities reduced to rubble, civilizations pushed to their limits, and landscapes scarred by repeated battles. Every single force present in the sector was thoroughly exhausted. No commander wished for another engagement. No soldier wanted to risk another loss. No fleet desired to be thrown into yet another storm of destruction.

The sector's inhabitants, from the highest-ranking leaders to the lowest-ranked operatives, were all mentally and physically drained.

Even the alliance forces that had maintained a siege on the military base began to falter in their efforts. Gradually, their attacks grew weaker, their coordination slipped, and waves of disorganization and cautious retreat emerged.

Their primary focus shifted to self-preservation; they were beginning to protect themselves before all else. Any further assault achieved nothing except to provoke the Law Dominators of the Cursed Behemoth's army, whose hunger for destruction and plunder grew stronger with each passing day.

Observing the situation, commanders realized that continuing aggressive attacks was counterproductive. They began to call off assaults, offering a variety of excuses and reasons, effectively giving the Law Dominators a free hand to gather whatever resources they wished and leave the sector at will. For an entire year, this pattern repeated almost rhythmically. The storerooms of the military base filled steadily with gathered resources.

The Law Dominators collected supplies, repaired equipment, and prepared for eventual departure, inching ever closer to the point where they could leave with everything they required.

Then, without warning, the calm shattered.

Explosions erupted from within the military base itself. This was no ordinary facility-it encompassed an entire solar system, one that had successfully withstood the might of 4,000 fleets and multiple Law Dominators. And yet, it now exploded violently from within. The detonations tore through supply storages and the core sections of several massive, strategically critical arrays.

The alliance commanders, aware of the magnitude of the situation, immediately recognized the potential for a decisive counter-operation, one that the Shadow Swords had meticulously planned for months.

They issued full-scale assault orders instantly, intending to strike while the base's defensive arrays lay in ruins.

However, the majority of the alliance army failed to respond as expected. Some soldiers were frozen in shock, unable to process the events rapidly enough to follow commands. Others refused to act, angered that the careful plans, which were designed to finally force the Cursed Behemoth's army out of the sector, had failed so completely.

Amidst the chaos, anger, and furious shouting of the alliance leaders-who had personally led their elite detachments into the fray to prevent the sacrifices of the Shadow Swords from being wasted-a sudden, blinding light appeared on the horizon. It was a light unlike anything seen before, pulsating with raw energy and unstoppable momentum.

From the distance, a Note-4 Armada emerged in all its formidable glory. A colossal fleet of 500 fleets moved at impossible speed, each vessel bristling with weapons and heavy artillery.

Almost instantly, they opened fire with their main cannons, and the first wave of their bombardment obliterated the final protective layer surrounding the military base.

The second wave of strikes was even more catastrophic. It annihilated the three innermost planets of the solar system entirely, wiping out all soldiers, vehicles, and installations stationed there.

The third wave penetrated deep into the heart of the solar system, forcing the twenty Law Dominators inside to emerge in a desperate attempt to counter the assault. Yet even together, they could not stop half of the destructive power unleashed by the Note-4 armada.

Countless apace crafts on the inner planets were obliterated before they could lift off or mount any effective defense.

By the fourth wave, the Note-4 Armada had infiltrated the solar system fully, dividing into specialized groups. They systematically struck everything in their path, targeting both planetary installations and mobile units, while simultaneously engaging the twenty Law Dominators with unrelenting precision.

The fifth wave of main cannon fire completed the devastation. Almost every remaining spacecraft of the Cursed Behemoth's armada was either destroyed on the surface of the planets or engaged in desperate combat in the skies above.

Many Note-4 Armada vessels were also lost, overwhelmed by the relentless attacks of the furious and indomitable Law Dominators and Royal Soul Masters. Yet, despite these losses, the momentum of the hungry fleet remained

unstoppable.

Every salvo fired by the enormous Note-4 Armada was supported by an unfathomable quantity of Pearls, far beyond what any standard operation would require. This was a stockpile so immense that it could have sustained an entire empire for hundreds of years, yet it was being expended in a single, unprecedented volley.

The squadron's strategy cleverly compensated for the absence of Law

Dominators in their ranks by hurling hundreds of millions of Pearls at every obstacle, obliterating it without hesitation, leaving no room for error or

resistance.

...When the massive cannons began to gleam ominously, signaling the sixth wave, there was no intention whatsoever of holding their ground. The Eighth-Star Royal Soul Master, responsible for defending the garrison in Damir's absence, acted with immediate decisiveness.

Fearing that the relentless Note armada would pursue the remaining spacecrafts and annihilate every last one of them, he issued an order for a full-scale, randomized withdrawal of all remaining fleets.

The sixth wave struck, catching new spacecrafts in its devastating path, while the survivors scattered at impossible speeds, fleeing in different directions, not daring to glance back, every second a matter of life and death.

Driven by searing anger, the Eighth-Star Royal Soul Master roared in fury and led a furious counterattack on the Note armada, accompanied by his brothers. With no protective fleets to hold the line or shield them, they struck with brutal speed and precision. In mere seconds, multiple enemy spacecrafts were destroyed, leaving trails of smoke and fire in their wake.

Yet the leader of Note-4 armada, Alexander, had no desire to witness whether

his armada was stronger than twenty Law Dominators. With a calm and calculated resolve, he issued the order to retreat randomly, scattering his forces to avoid further losses.

...An oppressive, suffocating silence fell over the battlefield in that moment. From the very first strike to the final withdrawal, the entire confrontation had lasted fewer than ten minutes. The Law Dominators of the Cursed Behemoth looked around, their hearts sinking in disbelief and pain.

The military base was obliterated; every defensive array had been annihilated; storerooms containing centuries' worth of supplies were wiped clean. Over half of their fleet lay in ruins, destroyed beyond repair.

Meanwhile, the leaders of the alliance fleet stood dumbfounded, mouths agapein astonishment, unable to comprehend the scale of the devastation.

It was, without a shadow of doubt, a total and absolute massacre. The Dominator fleets that managed to escape could not even muster 400

fleets... only minutes earlier, their numbers had exceeded a thousand. And the losses suffered by Note-4 armada? Practically insignificant.

The destruction that hit their fleet amounted to no more than five fleets-a

large number in theory, as each vessel was priceless, yet inconsequential compared to the havoc they had wrought.

"Ugh..." muttered the alliance commanders, a collective sound of disbelief and frustration escaping their lips.

The inevitable followed. The enraged Law Dominators, furious beyond comprehension, launched a relentless counterattack on the alliance fleet.

Every individual wielding a planetary weapon unleashed it with devastating precision; every Dominator equipped with a personal array activated it, unleashing torrents of energy; anyone with cursed-infused equipment deployed it fully, amplifying the chaos.

Within moments, the alliance fleet was battered, decimated, and forced into a chaotic retreat, scrambling to preserve what remained of their forces, just as the Law Dominators themselves had been forced to flee in previous conflicts. Later that day, when Damir and his brothers returned to the military base and beheld the aftermath of the carnage, his rage erupted uncontrollably. Without hesitation, he immediately mobilized ALL his brothers, and directed them toward the nearest Millennium Empire among the six.

They unleashed unrelenting destruction on its inhabitants, leveling both the homeworld and the imperial capital.

Upon opening the storerooms, they found them empty, intensifying Damir and

his brothers' fury.

What followed was relentless, methodical campaign of annihilation. Over the course of a single week, they decimated the largest one hundred planets under that empire, leaving nothing but ruins in their wake.

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