Within the planetary warships, the warriors of Shield Cross Stars moved about like the ants of a colony, the speed and organization reaching an immaculate realm.
At that moment, within the personal cabins of some of the most elite troops there were, several meditating powerhouses slowly opened their eyes, their auras flashing with a robust heaviness before retracting into gentle streams of cool wind.
One after another, they stood.
Each one of these individuals was completely in the nude, soaking in a dense jelly-like substance. They stepped out with a movement and immediately became dry beneath an odd, inexplicable process.
They dressed themselves systematically. The rhythm was so smooth and without hitches that it would be clear to anyone watching that they had done this thousands of times. Although their rituals were all different, each one had one that they had drilled into their minds over decades.
However, no matter how different their processes were, in exactly three seconds, they all had finished dressing themselves and stepped out.
The moment they did, the hustle and bustle of the planetary warships seemed to slow and quiet, the echoes of their footsteps setting a new rhythm that they all fell into.
They stretched out their hands.
As obedient as servants, several groups rushed forward and handed them halberds twice the height of their bodies.
They stretched out their forearms.
In just as quick movements, several more groups rushed forward and handed them shields that weighed as heavy as mountains.
The moment they were equipped with weapons and shields, their steps only became heavier, the rumbling momentum causing even the warship itself to quake and shake.
The more these echoes resonated, the more controlled the others seemed to become. With every passing second, the cohesion of the group grew further. Even as they increased their pace of movement, the smoothness remained the same and, in fact, greatened. As though they were perfectly choreographed traffic, no one interrupted the path of another person, even to the point their shoulders didn't brush.
These entities stepped out, reaching the bow of their ships as crowds of warriors, previously seemingly moving in an unorganized swarm, formed neat and even lines to their back. For each one of these six planetary warships, there were 12 such existences, each one wielding the very same halberd and shield.
The uniformity was immaculate.
Their faces seemed hardly recognizable to the public, but to the terrorist organizations of the Dimensional Verse, they were all too well known.
Captain Zylgella.
This name meant nothing to the vast majority, however to the people of the colloquially known Zealot Sector, his name rang fear in all of their hearts.
The so-called Zealot Sector was a region of the Human Domain where there was an increased activity in Gods and Faiths due to certain unique opportunities presented. Unfortunately, that also made it a hotbed of religious extremists and cults which took advantage of the poor and needy, feeding them into systems that created sex trafficking rings and began cycles of hatred.
This region was Captain Zylgella's stomping ground. Over the years of his dominance, he came to be known as the Guillotine Apostate. The number of shrines and places of worship he had felled beneath his blade and soaked beneath rivers of blood were too numerous to count.This material belongs to .
Captain Urrith.
This name meant nothing to the vast majority, however to the people of the Skyward Sector, her name shook their souls and sunk claws into their hearts.
The Skyward Sector was one of the few barbarian Sectors of the Human Domain. There were only two methods of gaining such a title, both of which usually came hand in hand. The first was that there was not a prominent human family or organization in majority control of the land, and the second was that it had a population of non-human exceeding 20%.
The Oryx were not the only non-human race in the Human Domain, there were batches of others in minority positions that had learned to co-exist with humans, one of which being the Skyward Race.
Still, in such regions, the locations tended to be particularly lawless. Since these regions could not be controlled by humans, it was obvious that the humans there tended to be quite weak and the other races there tended to be quite strong.
Due to other powers being more focused on their own regions and maintaining control, Shield Cross Stars could only do its best to maintain order.
When Captain Urrith gained jurisdiction over the Skyward Sector, though, what once was a lawless region quickly became great obedient. Even now, the odd winged race followed to her back, having wings that alternated in leather skin and feathers, while having faces with prominent noses seemingly built with aerodynamics in mind.
Alone, she had subdued an entire Sector.
Captain Wimword.
This name meant nothing to the vast majority. Even to the people of the Necro Sector he oversaw, this name was completely unknown to them. However, the name that they did know was that of the Shield Reaper.
The Necro Sector was the deadest Sector in the Human Domain. It had an abnormally large concentration of dark and corrosion Forces, making it impossible for most to live there normally. Those that did were often sickly, malnourished and frail of body. This made them easy for beasts to prey upon and it was considered to be a region where beasts reigned supreme.
That was, until Captain Wimword set his flag and marched.
These were just three, just three of the 72 that had appeared, each one with a more vicious title and history than the last, and each fully prepared to lay down their lives in the name of the human race.
A silence fell over the battlefield as though all of the noise had been sucked out of the air. These 12 stood at the bows of their ships. Although less than a second had passed since they had appeared, somehow it felt like an eternity.
And then, they jumped.
Leonel felt his spine tingle.
He tapped his foot on the ground, retreating slightly and retracting his spear. Aina seemed to notice his change immediately and reacted in kind. Her hair fluttered in the air as she stepped onto a rotating blood rose, with a raise of her hands, the others followed along with her.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
The land trembled as a tsunami of earth rose into the air and spread out in all directions.
Leonel's eyes narrowed as his head raised.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The earth collapsed, causing the ground to shake so fiercely that it almost threatened to throw him off balance.
Dust was thrown into the, threatening to make visibility an impossibility. The Void Palace was already known for its dense fog, so this only made the situation several times more difficult to handle. However, before it could truly get out of hand, all of the dust was suddenly pressed into the ground as though a hand had descended from the skies above.
When Leonel's vision finally cleared, he found that both he and Aina were surrounded by towering shields the size of buildings. There were exactly 72 of them, each of them shimmering with a resplendent starlight.
They alternated between silver and royal blue depending on the angle, their translucent nature being just transparent enough to show the powerful armies that stood behind them.
Then, the sound of footsteps began to resonate. Each and every one of them walked at the exact same pace, raising the exact same leg and walking forward in unison. The resonance made it sound as though a single giant was moving through forward, each one aimed right for Leonel's heart.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
As they moved, the encirclement closed in, closing all paths of retreat.
Leonel slowly relaxed, exhaling a long breath. It seemed that he probably couldn't play around anymore.
His head angled upward again, looking toward the six planetary warships with narrowed eyes.
In the distance, DiVincenzo and the Void Elders stood high in the skies, watching this scene. None of them easily revealed their inner thoughts with their expressions. However, it was clear that they all felt that this matter was over, subconsciously relaxing.
DiVincenzo didn't slowly increase the pressure. The moment he saw that things weren't going well, he dialed up the heat to the greatest output he had, unwilling to take any more chances. However, never in his wildest dreams did he think that things might very well come crumbling down with a single sentence from Leonel.
Leonel, who was just about to get serious, paused for a moment, his brow raising.
His gaze shifted and he slowly landed on three people.
"You. You. And You."
With the training these warriors had, they simply continued to walk forward as though nothing at all had happened. However, Leonel didn't seem too shocked by this at all.
The ones he had pointed to hard reacted at all, until, that is, he pointed to the last one.
One wasn't an issue. Two was a coincidence. But three… three was a pattern, a pattern that shattered the status quo with another few words.
"Neither of the three of you are human. Cloud Race, I presume?"
Leonel clearly wasn't asking a question. In fact, he was making a very clear accusation. While he could break out of this encirclement using effort, it would take a lot out of him and he would most definitely end up injured. Plus, outside of himself, Aina would likely suffer as well.
If there was a chance to use his head and intelligence instead, why wouldn't he?
As for the three he had pointed to, they were none other than Zylgella, Urrith and Wimword.
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