Ten thousand light-years from the god realm's star, a sleek black warship materialized. This survey vessel, hailing from a distant galaxy, matched the size of a small Flying Dragon Warship. Through its observation window, we glimpsed its crew—monsters. The pilot, a humanoid with four arms and three eyes, confirmed it. Cosmic evolution leaned humanoid, but this race's aesthetics were… questionable.
In the vast universe, ten thousand light-years was a hop. "Captain, we've detected an intelligent planet, ten thousand light-years out," the pilot reported from the bridge.
"No. 1, bring the ship closer. Let's study their lifestyle and society. If feasible, we'll conquer them, haha. The leader won't mind," the captain said, grinning.
"Yes, sir." Their crew used numerical designations, save the captain. With a flash, the warship vanished, reappearing in the god realm's orbit.
"Captain, we've arrived. Orders?"
"Scan the planet," the captain said, thrilled. Lucky break on this survey. Soon, this world might bear his name per protocol.
"Ah, that's what they look like!" No. 1 gasped at the scan results. "What's that?" The crew turned to the screen, inhaling sharply.
"Gods, they're ugly!" "Look, they transform—wings!" "Whoa, they shoot fire!" Chatter erupted. Unknown beings sparked curiosity, especially for a race new to the cosmos. Life abounded, but civilized species were rare. The god realm's beauty and its inhabitants' oddity stunned them.
As the aliens scanned and critiqued the gods, the God King, fueled by "Indian God Oil," was "laboring" in his palace. When the scan's light swept his chambers, he sensed it—a peeping unease. Since returning from the demon realm, discomfort plagued him; now, it intensified. With a few forceful thrusts to finish, he rose, exiting the palace. Today feels dangerous. I must prepare.
"Captain, this race lacks industrial foundations but has advanced biological potential. Their lifespans outstrip ours, and they manipulate energy like living converters," the scanner reported.
"Hmm, wait—satellites in their orbit?" the scanner exclaimed. "What?" The captain jolted. Satellites meant discovery, yet the planet showed no reaction.
Pondering, the captain concluded the satellites weren't god-made. Their strength lay in biology, not tech, evident from the scans. The issue: would the satellite-placing race attack upon spotting them? These were surveillance satellites, hinting at conquest plans. Abandoning the prize irked him.
"Analyze the satellites' tech level," he ordered. If the spacefaring race was weaker, he'd claim both. If stronger, he'd report to the leader and bolt. The analysis came quickly: "Captain, their tech lags ours by a century—just early cosmic stage. These are remote satellites." He exhaled, relieved. But this report doomed them. The satellites, Earth-derived and retrofitted with long-range relays, belied Flying Dragon Star's advanced tech-magic fusion, far surpassing the aliens' estimates. The god realm's surveillance used upgraded Earth tech, not a century behind but leaps ahead.
Earth tech paled against cosmic standards, but these satellites used advanced tweaks—otherwise, the gap would've been millennia. As the warship entered god realm space, Yanhuang Star's monitoring system pinged.
"Majesty, anomaly in the god realm—an alien warship appeared and analyzed our satellites," Mengjiang reported via military video.
"Noted. Hold position and observe their intent. Stick to our plan. Relay that," I said. Aliens joining the fray? Seems we weren't the only ones eyeing gods. I'd prepare, cocky but not clueless. The universe teemed with superior civilizations.
"Xue'er, how many warships do we have?" I asked. She handled logistics, easing my load. "Six legions of large Dragon-class warships, one hundred per legion. One thousand medium, ten thousand small—a tenfold increase," she said casually.
"That many? Enough soldiers to crew them?" A year's growth stunned me. Time to reassign defense zones. Post-conquest, one legion per planet—god and demon realms.
"Shortfalls are filled by robotic soldiers. Human-to-robot ratio is one to ten. We have about 1.2 million human troops. Ground forces are mostly beastmen, who prefer it. Fox and cat clans, being frail, choose command roles," Xue'er explained, her mastery humbling.
"Xue'er, you're amazing," I said, holding her hand, moved.
"Tian, don't. From day one, I chose you. This makes me happier," she said, nestling into my arms.
"Heh, remember when we knew nothing but stumbled into husband-wife duties? Hilarious now," I chuckled, recalling our naive start.
"You, maturing so fast, growing tall. Otherwise, I wouldn't have," Xue'er blushed, reminiscing.
"Who can resist my charm? Someone couldn't help herself," I teased. "Ow!" She pinched me. "Look at you, thick-skinned."
"Alright, tell the Palace Guard Legion and Rapid Response Legion to prep. I've a hunch this won't be easy—a big fight's coming," I said. Aliens wouldn't appear randomly, especially one warship. The thrill of a true interstellar war sparked excitement.
"Captain, what now?"
"Energy scans show this race relies on biological prowess. Conquering them's easy, but another cosmic civilization's involved. Regardless of their strength, our lone ship can't take this planet. Inform the legion commander, regroup, then decide. For now, leave to avoid detection," the captain ordered.
"Yes, sir." The black warship vanished under our satellite's gaze.
"Majesty, they're gone," Mengjiang said. On the military's super-intelligent mega-screen, we tracked the god realm's orbit. Legion and district heads filled the conference room. Facing a new cosmic foe was uncharted territory; gauging them was critical.
"Could they have bailed due to weak strength?" Along ventured cautiously.
"Possible. Their satellite scan shows a cautious commander. But do they covet the god realm like us?" Xue'er said, brushing her bangs.
"They do," I said firmly.
"Why?" Alang asked, puzzled. "Think: when vastly different civilizations collide, what happens? For a spacefaring race, resource-rich planets are gold—key to survival and growth. No one resists a feast. Their warship's design screams predatory beast. A race's nature shines through their tech. If their ships reflect their psyche, they're a threat. Their retreat's temporary, likely to fetch reinforcements, as Along guessed," I explained. Clarity dawned, though not certain, giving them a baseline.
"Majesty, even if you're right, we can't just wait. We deploy in two days. If they hit us mid-attack, we're aiding them. Strike now," Mengjiang urged, earning some nods.
I smiled. "Mengjiang's scenario's plausible, but we can't rush. Why? If they're strong, we'd help them, wasting lives and resources. If weak, a cosmic race isn't that weak. Their ship's pure tech, unlike our tech-magic blend. We don't know their weapons' specs—could cost us. Worse, how many ships might they bring? That was a medium ship, by our standards. If not, what's their large ship like?" I paused, letting them ponder. Brute force and blades were obsolete; brains were needed.
"Majesty means if they want the gods, they'll attack. We wait, let them strike, then play oriole to their praying mantis. If strong, we dodge; if weak, we devour," Wenbo, Western Continent District commander, ventured.
"Close enough," I affirmed, but my next words stunned them. "Strong or weak, we fight them to the death. This war will be brutal." Seeing their shocked, confused eyes, I continued, "Consider: if they're strong and take the god realm as a base, their tech will find us. You know what follows. So, we ambush post-conquest, minimizing risk. Even if we fail, we gain data and time to prep. Cohen's data shows no life within twenty billion light-years. They're likely a scout fleet. Reinforcements from their homeworld take time. Their ship's behavior marks them as explorers. Eliminating them is non-negotiable."
Realization hit. Worry creased faces—fear before fighting was bad. "Don't fret. We don't know their true strength, but don't get cocky. Prep's our only move," I said, smiling.
"Majesty, per your theory, we wait for their move?" Abao, usually silent, spoke.
"Yes. We pause god and demon campaigns until this war's done. If they're just probing, we resume as planned."
"What if they don't show? We can't wait forever," Alang pressed.
"Of course not. We prep multiple plans: they don't appear, they attack the god realm, or they hit during our assault. The latter two assume we skip the demon attack. I can't pick yet—space monitoring's report will decide."
Time ticked by, tension thick in the room. "Alright, head back. Redirect the demon-bound legions to hide near the god realm. If the aliens don't show, pivot to demons. Order factories to ramp up warship production and install cutting-edge weapons," I said. Lingering here was pointless—rest was better.
"Yes, sir." The generals saluted and left. Staring at the god realm's star, I sensed an inevitable war with these aliens.
Reader's Corner: Yo, readers, aliens crash Feitian's cosmic party! Will his oriole strategy outwit these four-armed freaks, or are they packing heat to crush his empire? Is Meilina hiding more secrets? Drop your wildest theories in the comments—let's unravel this interstellar showdown!