Legacy of the Void Fleet

He glanced around the room, his tone turning slightly more serious. ”And besides, we’re allies, aren’t we? Any mistake you make would end up dragging me down as well. So of course I’d point it out. Your interests are tied to mine—we’re all in the same boat here.”

His words were simple, but they carried weight. They were practical—and essential—for any movement of this scale. They also served as a reminder to all four of them: no matter how high their ranks, they were stronger together, at least in this case, where they stood united in alliance.

If they discovered anything that could harm anyone tied to the alliance, they had a duty to speak up. Damage to one would ultimately hurt all.

And that was the only reason the Mountain Dwarf elder spoke up at all. Otherwise, he would’ve stayed silent. But since they were in an alliance, it was important he made his stance clear. Just as he stood to gain, he also stood to lose.

Speaking up not only protected his interests—it also bought him a measure of trust from the others. With any luck, that trust would ensure his clan wouldn’t be the first target once the alliance ended... or at least make any plans to harm him or his people far less likely.

”Anyway,” the Mountain Dwarf Elder continued, ”I believe a day or two should be more than enough for each of us to prepare the additional logistics and supplies needed for our fleets before this mission begins.”

As he spoke, his gaze shifted toward the Dark Elven Empress, the Guild Master, and the Association Master—each one meeting his eyes.

The three nodded in agreement.

”Yes,” the Empress said, ”One or two days should be sufficient to arrange the necessary supplies and logistics.”

”Agreed,” added the Guild Master. ”We’ll make the preparations without issue.”

”That timeframe is acceptable,” the Association Master confirmed.

The Elder nodded with satisfaction. ”Good. That should be workable. Though this delay means we’ll be arriving two days later than initially planned, I believe it’s still manageable.”

He then turned toward the Star Emperor. ”However,” he added, ”this might make things a bit difficult for you to manage. You must’ve guessed by now that we won’t be able to rush to reach you. There’s no way for us to make up for those lost two days.”

He paused for a moment, then spoke more firmly. ”And if we try to, it could cause more problems than it solves—in more ways than one. What say you, Star Emperor?”

”It is just as you’ve said, Elder,” the Star Emperor replied with a solemn nod. ”I had my suspicions... and I fear you might be right.”

His tone grew heavier as he continued. ”The more time passes, the more pressure my fleet will face on the Galactic Rim. The challenges are mounting—and with each passing hour, more attention is being drawn to that region. Attention that will only grow.”

He looked around at the others, his expression serious. ”With reinforcements impossible to send on my own, and your four fleets delayed, the situation will indeed become problematic. I’ll manage—somehow—but I need to be clear about one thing.”

His gaze locked onto the Mountain Dwarf Elder. ”You must all understand... I can’t maintain a total blockade around the Holy Region forever. As the days stretch, so do our limits.”

A heavy silence settled in the room as the implications of his words sank in.

Association Master Benjamin said, ”We understand your difficulty, Star Emperor, but there’s no other way around you. I just hope you give it your best—because this is all we can do.

We’ll try to hurry things up, though right now, it feels nearly impossible. But oh well... we don’t have many options left, do we? Let’s just leave it to fate.”

”It’s truly frustrating,” the Dark Elven Empress muttered, her voice laced with irritation. ”If, after all this preparation and careful planning, we end up gaining nothing... it would be a complete waste. Not just of effort, but of opportunity.”

She leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing. ”And worse still, it would damage our image across the galaxy. To fail despite having such a clear advantage—others will mock us, question our competence, and see us as weakened.”

Guild Master Titan Dwarva shook his head with a sigh. ”You might be right, Empress. But if that happens... we’ll have no one to blame but ourselves.”

His tone was calm, but there was a hint of bitterness behind his words. ”We were too hasty with something this important. Trusting the Minotaur Clan was a mistake—one we should’ve never made. We didn’t verify, didn’t cross-check, just rushed forward based on their words.”

He paused, his expression grim. ”But what’s done is done. Decisions were made, and so were the mistakes. If this mission fails... then we must own that failure. Completely.”

The Star Emperor’s expression was bitter—perhaps more than anyone else’s. For others, the Holy Region might hold symbolic or strategic value, but for his race, it was vital. Their kind required dense resources to mature, and the Holy Region was one of the few places that could provide them. That was why he had gone to such lengths, desperate to secure it by any means necessary.

But now, fury churned inside him—no less than in the others, perhaps even greater. His anger was directed squarely at the Minotaur’s. It had been a grave mistake not to cross-verify their information.

Instead, he had acted on their intelligence, moving his fleet prematurely, drawing attention—and now, that exposure made it impossible to send additional support without risking full discovery.

Instead, he had acted on their intelligence, moving his fleet prematurely, drawing attention—and now, that exposure made it impossible to send additional support without risking full discovery.

His fists clenched as he cursed under his breath—not just the Minotaurs, but their ancestors across generations for feeding him false intelligence. Then he muttered, loud enough for others to hear:

”If we fail to secure the Holy Region... then at the very least, I will make sure the Minotaurs pay—for deceiving us, for stealing this opportunity from me.”

The others nodded grimly. They, too, harbored the same thought. If the Star Emperor’s suspicions proved true, they would see the Minotaur clan erased—down to the last trace of their bloodline.

”Sigh... Let this be a matter for the future,” the elder said solemnly. ”For now, let us do what we can. Who knows—if everything unfolds just as expected, then what you’re all thinking right now may become reality. But only the future can tell, right?”

His face grew even more serious as he continued, ”What matters now is that we act swiftly. Inform your subordinates of the change in plans, get them moving, and make sure they’re fully stocked with supplies and logistics. Time is of the essence.”

Sigh ”Elder, I must admit... you’ve made a fair point,” the Star Emperor said, his voice calmer now, touched with a note of weary clarity. ”And thinking about it... perhaps it’s pointless to obsess over what may or may not happen in the future.”

He looked around the chamber, his gaze steady. ”Whatever comes, we’ll face it when it does. For now, our duty is to focus on the preparations at hand—to do what we can, rather than be paralyzed by what we can’t control.”

He gave a small, resolute nod. ”So let’s make sure everything is ready, and manage our expectations—not with hopelessness, but with realism. That doesn’t mean we give up, not at all. It means we move forward with clear eyes.”

His voice gained a firm edge, regaining some of the force he was known for. ”We must do our best now, with full effort. Let the future worry about itself. Because this moment—this mission—is still in our hands. And that... is something we can influence.”

There was a quiet strength in his tone—wisdom forged in the fires of responsibility, and a message the others needed to hear.

”Yes... let’s just get it done,” the Dark Elven Empress said, exhaling sharply. ”We’ll see what happens when the time comes. No point wasting our time now thinking about what might happen—or who might be to blame if it does.”

She stood up slowly, her gaze steady. ”All that does is drain our energy, cloud our judgment, and feed disappointment. We’re not helping anyone—not even ourselves—by dwelling on uncertainties.”

The others began to rise as well, nodding in agreement.

”Might as well focus on what we can deal with,” Guild Master Titan Dwarva added. ”The adjustments to the plan, the logistical changes, the coordination. Those are real. And they need to be handled now.”

”Exactly,” said the Association Master with a grunt. ”Enough talk. We act.”

With that, the tone of the room shifted. The weight of speculation lifted, replaced by the heavier but clearer burden of duty.

They all had a role to play. And now—it was time to play it.