Although Lumina’s nano-bots couldn’t achieve the Swarm’s level of converting elents to mimic sothing akin to materializing from nothing, he only needed to weather this crisis. After all, star systems were abundant throughout the universe—he could simply move a bit and find plenty more.
To Lumina, even if this entire galaxy were emptied out, it didn’t matter. At worst, it would just leave future erging civilizations from distant galaxies staring at the void in the sea of stars with boundless confusion and speculation.
With this wave of replenishnt, the Ji Race’s military strength surged once more—but this was rely temporary. The Swarm had only mobilized two of its extragalactic bases so far.
Once the new ultra-long-range interstellar Star Gates were completed, and two more extragalactic bases joined the war, the current balance of power would surely be shattered again.
To ensure that reinforcents could be swiftly delivered to the front lines, the Swarm had begun a new Star Gate construction plan connecting to the Inner-circle Alliance. In both the Swarm’s territory and the front line, 5,000 new Star Gates would be completed.
Thanks to their new cooperation, the races had now achieved a “Friendly” status with the Swarm. Their ships no longer needed to skulk around and could travel freely—so long as they weren’t afraid of running into Ji guerrilla fleets.
That long-missed freedom of travel ant they could now head to the front lines and observe the war up close, gaining the most accurate firsthand intel.
As a result, both the Ji Race’s and the Swarm’s actions ca under observation, sparking waves of discussion.
“Man, what a relief. Who would’ve thought the ones to save us in the end would be the Swarm,” a race’s representative chuckled. No one could tell what species he belonged to—his wrinkled, leathery face made even normal speech sound laced with insincerity. Especially since every sentence was paired with a villainous chuckle, making everyone quite speechless.
“Hmph. If it weren’t for the Swarm, the Ji wouldn’t have ended up like this,” another person offered a different take. Judging by their appearance, it was a representative from the Yuntu Race, an old adversary of the Swarm. They had once fought in the wars against the Swarm, but their forces were nearly wiped out, causing them to miss the Hundred-Race War entirely.
“Heh heh, that hypothetical doesn’t hold water. The Ji prepared all this—they were going to use it sooner or later,” soone else interjected. It was true: if they had all these weapons stockpiled, there must have been a reason. Otherwise, why go through the trouble of making them in the first place? It was like thermonuclear weapons: they don’t get used unless you’re desperate. But when the ti cos, no one dies holding it in.
“Bako, you’re picking sides now? Isn’t it a bit too early?” The Yuntu representative, having held a high office for many years, frowned at being challenged and responded unhappily.
“Hmph hmph, there are perks to picking late, but there are also perks to picking early,” Bako said smugly, his wrinkled face lifted in pride.
“Careful you don’t offer your warm face just to get a cold shoulder.”
“That’s none of your business. The Swarm is going to be our new master. Better cozy up before it’s too late. I know so of you have offended them in the past, so you’d best not speak ill of the new boss. I’m not above tattling~” Bako belonged to a race far from the Swarm’s area. They had responded to the initial call to arms against the Swarm but recalled their troops halfway once the war ended. With sharp instincts, they’d dodged the worst of it and had felt lucky ever since.
But his bizarre tone and trembly voice made everyone around him shudder involuntarily. Even the Yuntu representative felt a tightness in his throat, as though he’d swallowed a fly. The room fell awkwardly silent.
Only after a while did another representative finally break the silence.
“The Ji really went too far this ti. We do owe the Swarm—if not for them, we wouldn’t be much better off.”
“Likely worse~” Bako chid in again. This ti, his words found silent agreent in the hearts of many.
The Ji had at least evacuated the populations of their own star systems before deploying nano-bots—brutal as it was, they had at least done it. But in foreign systems, perhaps because supply routes were cut off and transport ships couldn’t get through, they skipped the evacuation entirely. The fate of those people was obvious—they’d probably been converted directly into raw materials for warships.
“The Ji are likely finished. Sure, they still have many star systems, but in a prolonged war, the Swarm clearly has the upper hand.”
“Yeah, the Swarm is already building new Star Gates—so many, in fact, it’s basically a doubling of their previous infrastructure. That proves they’ve still been holding back.”
“Too bad even though we’re allowed into parts of Swarm territory now, those Star Gates are strictly off-limits. We can’t get anywhere near them.”
“Hah, even if they weren’t restricted, would you actually dare go take a look? Would you waltz over to the enemy lines and wave hello?”
“What, so looking is a cri now? What could the Swarm even do to ?” one person blustered.
“If you’ve got a death wish, don’t drag us down with you. Just because the Swarm is playing nice now doesn’t an you should push your luck. If they wipe you out after they’re done with the Ji, I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised.”
“Oh, and you think saying that scares ?” The man tried to act unshaken, but the other people were already distancing themselves. So things, even if privately believed, just shouldn’t be spoken aloud. This guy belonged to a species that had never clashed with the Swarm directly. To them, the Swarm now seed civilized and courteous, so they mistook that for reasonableness.
But to so, “reasonable” was an insult. They had no qualms provoking powerful enemies, yet feared a re rat—because a rat would bite you, no matter how weak it was, without any regard for decorum.
For soone to still be that naive while representing an entire civilization was truly astounding. But the universe was vast, and all things existed within it. The others, realizing this guy operated on a completely different wavelength, chose not to argue further—lest they make an enemy out of soone so unreasonable.
Bako watched with a shadowed expression. He had already made it clear—talk bad about the new boss, and he’d snitch. He’d been about to let it go, but this fool went and dove onto the barrel himself. Bako now began to calculate: weigh the strengths of both sides and decide whether to report him or offer the Swarm a bigger welco gift.
He didn’t notice, however, that the others were now also distancing themselves from him. It seed nobody wanted to be near these unstable lunatics.
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