Ruan Linzhan was a soldier; even his posture while walking was ramrod straight, like a sharp, unsheathed blade that radiated a powerful aura, making him seem unapproachable.
Ruan Shu couldn’t help but sneak glances at him.
His hair was white like hers, but his skin was dark, not quite black, but more of a deep brown.
His snow-white hair was on the longer side, and his facial features were sharply defined. His eyes were a striking violet. Though his skin was dark, it complemented his looks, giving him an exotic beauty—like a god from ancient Egyptian mythology.
The wind lifted the white strands on his forehead, allowing Ruan Shu to catch a glimpse of a white marking there.
It looked somewhat like the patterns on a tiger, yet also had a resemblance to cloud patterns, adding to his air of mystery.
Of course, Ruan Linzhan noticed the little one in his arms sneaking glances at him. Whenever he lowered his head slightly, she would quickly tuck her little head back in.
Perhaps embarrassed at being caught, the girl’s cheeks flushed faintly.
“Commander, there’s a mutated blackberry vine over here.”
As he approached, most of the onlookers’ gazes shifted to the little figure in his arms.
It was impossible not to notice—the commander’s skin was dark, while the girl in his arms had snow-white skin. Even though patches on her were stained red with blood, her pallor remained striking.
The contrast between the two was too stark; it was hard not to pay attention.
Feeling the weight of so many gazes on her, Ruan Shu subtly leaned closer to the person holding her.
“Don’t harm that mutated plant,” Ruan Linzhan instructed. The group refrained from using dangerous weapons, though the mutated plant was extraordinarily powerful and appeared to be in a state of agitation.
In the brief time it took to exchange these words, several people were already flung aside by its tendrils.
Fortunately, as star beasts, their bodies were robust, and those who were thrown quickly got back up, albeit now dust-covered.
“Little Vine!” Ruan Shu finally mustered the courage to call out to the frenzied, aggressive mutated plant, her delicate face twisted in worry.
She’d used the loudest voice she could muster.
As soon as she called, all eyes turned to her in unison.
Ruan Shu buried herself further into Ruan Linzhan’s embrace. W-Why were they all looking at her like that?
In fact, the soldiers were all thinking the same thing: Who was this “Little Vine”? The name didn’t sound imposing at all.
They soon got their answer. The previously raging, mutated blackberry vine rapidly retracted and made its way towards the commander and the child, moving swiftly through the rubble of the broken buildings.
“Commander, watch out!”
Ruan Linzhan didn’t move, watching as the mutated vine stopped before them—or, more accurately, before the little girl in his arms.
Then, to everyone’s astonishment, the mutated blackberry vine shrank swiftly, transforming into the size of a small snake and coiling into the bloodied palm of the girl’s hand.
Ruan Shu’s hand had been injured during their escape and was still throbbing in pain, though she hadn’t said a word.
But Little Vine, it seemed, felt her pain.
Her tiny master was so fragile; previously, even a small prick would bring tears to her eyes. Now, however, her body was marked with numerous wounds.
The little vine twisted its tendrils, carefully avoiding Ruan Shu’s injuries as it affectionately rubbed against her to offer comfort.
Ruan Shu gently touched the tip of its tendrils, and, under the shocked gaze of everyone around, she placed it on her wrist.
“Can you help me contact my dad and the others?”
“Sure.”
Ruan Linzhan withdrew his gaze, looking at her face for a brief moment before nodding in agreement—he had already intended to make contact.
He instructed the others to help clear and secure the battlefield, then made a video call to his uncle.
Meanwhile, not too far from the main star, Ruan Xiao was leading the Third Legion in a coordinated assault with other legions against the invading star pirates and insect beasts.
A massive white Kirin tiger, with mechanical wings on its back, soared toward an advanced insectoid creature, crushing its head with a single paw.
His eyes gleamed with killing intent as he locked onto the high-level insect beasts attempting to escape. In a flash, he reappeared above another creature, his claws striking down, piercing the beast’s skull like a sharp blade.
“No one’s escaping. If you even think about it, I’ll kill it!”
From one of the star pirate’s battleships, a massive beast resembling a mix between a crocodile and a dinosaur—a star beast—emerged, holding a young insect creature in its jaws as a threat to the fleeing insect beasts.
As soon as it appeared with the insect, the surrounding insect creatures went berserk. Their multifaceted eyes gleamed with hatred and a thirst for revenge as they stared at the star beast, though something held them back, stopping them from acting recklessly.
With their hatred redirected, they turned on the star beast legion, charging forward with a deadly resolve.
Ruan Xiao narrowed his eyes at the star beast wielding the young insect as a hostage. It was clear that the creature it held was likely the newly born queen of the entire insect swarm, explaining why so many high-level insects were willing to throw themselves towards the main star with reckless abandon.
Ruan Xiao wanted to deal with the rebels on that side.
Yes, the star pirates attacking the main star were also a faction of star beasts—rebels who had long sought to overthrow the current royal family and rule in their place.
They worshiped a dark beast god and were descendants of star beasts exiled in a great war ten thousand years ago.
But now there were too many insect beasts; every time he tried to reach the rebels, he was immediately intercepted by multiple high-level insect creatures.
The rebel leaders watching from the rear were filled with a crazed bloodlust and excitement. Even if they couldn’t succeed today, causing severe damage to the main star’s forces would be enough to satisfy them.
Their ultimate goal was to eliminate as many of the main star’s marshals as possible.
Suddenly, a mighty dragon roar resounded, carrying an intense, oppressive fury. Even the high-level Zergs felt a powerful sense of threat.
The rebellious star beast’s face froze in horror, and he turned to flee into the starship. But from the void, a massive black dragon’s claw extended, grasping the rebel leader’s head.
Crack!
In an instant, under his astonished gaze, his head was crushed.
Including the insectoid larva.
With the death of the insect queen larva, a wave of despair spread through the insect creatures. Those left in the cosmos went entirely berserk, their red, compound eyes brimming with unrestrained fury and bloodlust.
The massive black dragon appeared in the cosmos, opening his jaws to release several fireballs imbued with dragon’s breath. The intense heat distorted the air around them, yet each shot landed precisely on the insect beasts.
In an instant, the insect creatures were reduced to ashes.
The dragon turned and flew toward the fleeing starships. With a single swipe of his claw, he left half of each starship in ruins. Then, prying open the cockpit doors with his claws, he exhaled a blast of dragon’s breath inside, ensuring that no one inside had a chance to escape.
Within seconds, each starship exploded from within, scattering debris into the universe.
In the face of absolute power, the schemers were left with no option but to be slaughtered.
The other marshals, alongside their soldiers, continued the massacre of the remaining insect creatures.
Since they dared to invade, there would be no escape. The star beasts, vengeful and fiercely protective, would spare none of their enemies.