At that mont, despair gripped every soul. A Tier 10 technological weapon... the very concept was unfathomable. Given the Phantom Emperor’s strength, even a Tier 8 mid-grade weapon would have been enough to obliterate him. But above Tier 8 sat Tier 9, and above that—the nightmare that was Tier 10.
For soone to unleash a Tier 10 weapon against a re Tier 8 early-stage civilization was the equivalent of using a nuclear warhead to swat a mosquito.
Just as they had feared, the Void-kin powerhouses were left with nothing but the cold realization of their own mortality. They could only stand there, waiting for the end. There was no escape.
Vroooom!
The world-ending toll of the bell finally swept through the void.
Everything it touched—from Tier 6 and Tier 7 starships to Planetary and Stellar-class powerhouses, even the colossal Phantom Pri itself—disintegrated into nothingness. In an instant, they were erased from existence by that terrifying power.
The sheer horror of the scene made the Phantom Emperor tremble uncontrollably.
They were gone. Everyone was dead.
Yet, in the heart-stopping mont the energy wave washed over him, he realized it had deliberately curved around him. He had no idea why this mysterious powerhouse had spared him.
But deep down, he knew his fate was sealed. Initially, he had been dismissive. The Void-kin were a dominant force within the Cryo Star-System, ruling over ten super-giant galaxies. Their ranks boasted no fewer than a hundred Universal Class powerhouses.
Because of this, even when he realized they were being jamd by advanced technology, he hadn't panicked. He believed that unless they were blood enemies, no one would dare lay a hand on the Void-kin once they realized the true extent of their power.
But now, true terror finally set in.
If the enemy possessed Tier 10 weaponry, it ant they stood on equal footing with the Void-kin. They undoubtedly possessed their own Universal Class monsters. The Void-kin leadership would never risk an all-out war with a Tier 10 civilization over a low-ranking pawn like him.
He was utterly, hopelessly alone.
While these thoughts raced through his mind, the entirety of the Phantom Sector’s ho system—thousands of life-bearing planets and every living soul within them—simply ceased to be. Flesh and spirit alike dissolved into the starry void.
The sector was now a hollow grave, devoid of all matter, save for the catatonic Phantom Emperor.
Vroooom!
A ripple distorted the depths of space. Monts later, a starship glided out from the darkness.
The vessel ca to a silent halt directly in front of the Phantom Emperor.
Looking at the craft, which spanned a staggering million kiloters in diater, the Emperor’s face went pale. Even at its most compact scale, the sheer magnitude of the ship scread Tier 9.
Hiss!
The airlock hissed open.
A young man stepped out, followed closely by an elderly man whose presence was an unreadable abyss.
"The Galactic Terrans... It’s the Galactic Terrans! How is this possible?!"
The Emperor’s face—molded into a humanoid form that mirrored human expressions—was a mask of pure disbelief.
He hadn't chosen this form to mimic the Galactic Terrans. In the vast cosmos, humanoid life was common. The pinnacle of these races was known as The Desolates, whose appearance was identical to the Galactic Terrans.
The Desolates were the most powerful race in existence, and their people were scattered across the universe. Many branches, like those in the Milky Way, had been isolated for so long they had been forced to rebuild from scratch. Over ti, as they interbred with other sentient species, they ford various new humanoid races.
Ultimately, these were all classified as humans, but in the eyes of high-level civilizations, these "Humanoids" were considered impure.
Only the true Desolates were seen as pure. In the wider universe, the status of a humanoid race was often judged by how closely they resembled the Desolates.
There were countless races like the Milky Way's humans who looked exactly like the Desolates, but most remained at a very low level of developnt. The Desolates hadn't achieved supremacy through innate talent—in fact, their baseline potential was quite low—but through sheer numbers and their vast distribution. From those trillions of individuals, peerless geniuses were bound to erge.
Furthermore, the Desolates possessed an incredible rate of genetic assimilation. If another race intermarried with them, after several hundred generations, the descendants would be indistinguishable from pure Desolates. This, combined with the ancient, supre powerhouses who had survived since the dawn of ti, ensured the Desolates remained the undisputed masters of the universe.
If a group of humans ended up stranded in so backwater corner of the universe without the vast resources of the Desolate empire, they usually stagnated at Tier 7 or Tier 8. Unless they were rediscovered and accepted back into the fold—or if they produced a genius capable of elevating their civilization to Tier 10 and passing a bloodline test in the Virtual Universe—they were destined to remain in obscurity until their eventual extinction.
The reason for the Phantom Emperor's shock wasn't that Lance looked like a Desolate; there were plenty of low-level races that shared that look.
What shocked him was that a Galactic Terran was commanding a Tier 9 vessel.
He was certain they were Galactic Terrans because of Lance's attire. Lance was currently wearing the Martial Paragon set, a transformation of his God-Martial equipnt. For soone who had studied human history to understand his own 'noble' form, there was no way the Emperor wouldn't recognize that gear.
"That’s right. I am a Galactic Terran," Lance said, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "Do you understand now why I wiped your people from the stars? And in case you were wondering... I’m Lance. The sa Lance you were planning to send a hundred Stellar Class warriors to execute."
The Emperor’s face turned ghostly white.
The elders of his clan had warned them: do not provoke the humans. If they were ever acknowledged by the Desolates, the entire Void-kin race could be put to the sword.
But after exterminating several Humanoid star systems without consequence, the Emperor had long since tossed those warnings aside. Now, it seed his luck had run out. To him, the only logical explanation was that these Galactic Terrans had finally been accepted by a Desolate powerhouse.
That powerhouse was likely the old man standing behind Lance. Yet, as he looked at them, sothing felt wrong. The elder stood with his head bowed, positioned in a way that made him look like nothing more than Lance’s servant.
"You didn't spare just to chat. Out with it—what do you want!?"
The Phantom Emperor spoke coldly as he glared at Lance. He didn't believe for a second that Lance would simply let him go.
"I’m giving you a chance," Lance replied with a faint smile. "Fight now. If I win, you die. But if I lose, I’ll let you walk away. How does that sound?"
Lose? Is that even possible?
The Phantom Emperor clearly didn't think so. He refused to believe a re fifteen-year-old boy could defeat him. If Lance actually succeeded, his talent would be considered "Super Genius" level even within the entirety of the Black Dragon Star Realm.
A Star Realm was a Tier 12 civilization. Even if Lance possessed SSS-Rank talent, he should still be worlds apart from a Star Realm’s elite prodigies. To be the strongest genius in a Star Realm, one had to reach the level of a Desolate Grade or even a Prival Grade talent.
"Are you certain!?" The Phantom Emperor’s voice trembled with sudden excitent. "Can you actually make that call?"
He surmised that Lance likely wanted to prove his worth in front of the powerhouses from the Desolates to secure better treatnt once he arrived there.
But you want to use a Galactic Realm expert like as your whetstone? Even with your Holy Light Power, this is beyond reckless.
As he asked the question, he looked directly at Blake.
"Do I look like I need to ask permission for such a trivial matter?" Lance interrupted, his voice turning cold as he saw through the Emperor's misconceptions. "Start, or you won't get another chance!"
Lance didn't bother explaining. He flew directly toward the Phantom Emperor, his right hand reaching out to grasp the empty air.
Hum—!
In an instant, a longspear wreathed in black flas manifested in his grip.
Although Lance had already obtained a Tier 11 weapon from Blake, using it against a re Phantom Emperor felt like bullying.
"A Tier 7 Mid-Grade weapon? You truly look down on !" The Phantom Emperor’s expression darkened instantly.
However, if Lance wanted to be this arrogant, he wouldn't hold back!
Rumble!
A terrifying aura suddenly erupted from the Phantom Emperor’s body as endless black mist surged forth. The darkness expanded in every direction, and within heartbeats, he transford into a colossal black shadow that blotted out the stars.
He had revealed his true form. Even though he was certain Lance was no match for him, he wouldn't take any chances.
"My Lord, the Void-kin are born from the shadows of great experts who specialized in Psionic Telekinesis," Blake began to explain respectfully from the sidelines. "There are many branches throughout the universe. While they share a common race, their lineages differ."
"The most powerful Void-kin are born from the shadows of Supre-class experts, possessing strength at the Immortal Grade. The weakest are ford from the shadows of at least World Lord Class experts. This specific branch ancestor was the shadow of a World Lord. After tens of millions of years, they have developed into a powerful Tier 10 civilization."
"This race can utilize both Psion abilities and their innate Shadow Power. Both talents are remarkably potent."
Blake had discovered this branch of Void-kin long ago and had even studied them for a ti, only stopping once they reached a Tier 10 civilization level. He knew them well. They were a bizarre race—Void Beasts born from the shadows of intelligent species. They often lurked within the territories of the very races they were born from, a unique existence in the cosmos.
Lance listened with genuine interest. It was his first ti hearing that an expert’s shadow could awaken into an independent lifeform. No wonder they were so terrified of Light-based energy.
Rumble!
Suddenly, a tide of terrifying Psionic Telekinesis crashed toward Lance like a massive flood. A translucent, colossal palm print—capable of crushing worlds—bore down on him with world-ending montum.
Lance didn't dare be careless against a pure Psionic Telekinesis attack of this magnitude. This was, after all, the full-force strike of a Galactic Realm powerhouse. His Holy Light Power countered the enemy's physical essence, but it didn't necessarily negate their raw energy attacks.
"Heavenly Demon Blood Escape! The Berserk God’s Body!"
Lance shouted inwardly, instantly activating his most powerful physical enhancent techniques.
Boom!
In an instant, Lance’s entire body seed to explode into a mist of blood! The mist surged with incredible speed, funneling into the last remaining sliver of his flesh.
A horrifying aura erupted from that microscopic point. The flesh reconstituted instantly, and a mont later, Lance stood whole once more in the starry void. However, the aura radiating from him had undergone a cataclysmic transformation.
Rumble!
Violent waves of CON began to surge around Lance. He felt his power skyrocketing.
Heavenly Demon Blood Escape currently boosted Lance’s combat power by over thirty tis. The Berserk God’s Body, now at the Mastery level, provided a 16-fold increase. While combining the two didn't result in a pure multiplication of 30 tis 16, his strength still tripled over his peak, resulting in a total multiplier of over a hundredfold.
Under the pressure of such terrifying power, Lance’s muscles felt like localized black holes, drawing in the surrounding space. The Tier 7 Black Fla Spear in his hand began to tremble violently, unable to contain the sheer force.
"Great Destruction Spear Technique! Perish!"
Lance moved.
With a thunderous roar, the endless CON behind him condensed into a ten-thousand-ter-tall phantom of the Berserk God. Simultaneously, brilliant rays of Holy Light converged into the phantom’s hands, forming a gargantuan spear of pure radiance.
Mirroring Lance’s movent, the Berserk God thrust the massive spear into the void.
BOOM!
Lance’s spear and the Berserk God’s light-lance collided with the world-blotting palm print at the sa ti. The very foundations of the cosmos seed to shudder.
Crack!
The sound of shattering wood echoed. Before Lance could even react—
Bang!
The Black Fla Spear exploded into a million shards. The resulting shrapnel riddled Lance’s body like a pincushion, though his regenerative powers healed the wounds a split second later.
Rumble! Rumble!
The destruction didn't stop there. Not only had Lance’s spear shattered, but the Berserk God’s light-lance and the Phantom Emperor’s full-power palm print also disintegrated simultaneously.
For one brief mont, the entire star system trembled in the wake of the impact.
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