Legacy of the Void Fleet

And one more thing became clear: for all the effort and planning behind this move, it might have been a deliberate distraction—designed to buy just enough time that, even if their real objective came to light, no one would be ready to stop it. This was the conclusion reached by think tanks and power blocs across the galaxy. They couldn’t be certain, but most believed there was a better than 50 percent chance they were right.

Even with only a 50 percent probability, there was still uncertainty. Doubts lingered. Analysts couldn’t say for sure whether their assessment was correct. In the past, something like this wouldn’t have happened—but the confusion caused by the strategy had shaken their confidence. They couldn’t be certain about anything anymore... unless the probability rose above 90 percent.

Still, 50 percent was more than enough for some smaller factions. These minor forces had already begun preparing. Their goal? To move toward the galactic rim—following the same direction as the fleets of the Four Great Powers. They knew they couldn’t compete directly, but they hoped to scavenge whatever was left in the giants’ wake. And in a conflict of this scale, even scraps could be valuable.

With that in mind, many mid-tier battleships began their voyages. Their destinations were the same. Whether the future would be bright or bleak was still unknown—even to them.

Meanwhile, a new theory—no, not quite a theory, more of a speculation—began circulating. And it was enough to shake many to their core.

The speculation was this: the direction in which the Four Powers’ fleets were heading coincided with the path taken by the Star Empire fleet. This connection led to an even more disturbing possibility—what if the Star Empire, together with the Tier-Two, low-grade Minotaur Clan (a small regional power at the galactic rim), and its network of blockades in that region, were somehow involved with the Four Powers?

The implications were massive. All four fleets were moving in roughly the same direction. While their exact destinations were still unknown, the probability that they were converging was estimated at over 40 percent—likely higher, if not for the

But that wasn’t the end of it.

The initial speculation sparked a wildfire of even deeper, more radical theories. One in particular was spreading fast—challenging the very foundation of what everyone believed from the beginning.

What if this was all a misdirection?

What if the Star Empire, in coordination with the Four Powers, had engineered the entire scenario to draw attention away from themselves? According to the theory, the fleets of the Four Powers had been deliberately split into 160 groups, making unpredictable and often illogical movements. The purpose? To stir up confusion. To consume resources. To force everyone’s eyes on the chaos—while something else was happening in the shadows.

The author of this speculation pointed out several ”obvious” signs to support his case.

First: the Star Empire’s fleet at the galactic rim had indeed drawn major attention at just the right moment.

Second: the Four Powers’ sudden mobilization occurred within the same narrow timeframe.

Third: during this period, the Star Empire—along with the Minotaur Clan—established a blockade around a key star region, sealing it off completely. No one could enter. No one could leave.

And fourth: all Four Powers’ fleets, despite their erratic behavior, were ultimately heading in the same general direction as that sealed-off region.

It was too much coincidence, the theory claimed.

But in the end, the speculation collapsed under its own weight. Analysts and military strategists across dozens of factions dismissed it. The flaws were obvious: no hard data, no intercepted communications, just circumstantial connections and conjecture stitched together to form a shaky narrative.

Soon enough, under the influence of powerful figures and strategic manipulation, the speculation was rebranded as a conspiracy theory—one allegedly concocted by individuals tied to the Four Powers, meant to distract the public from the bigger picture. Whether confidently or reluctantly, many agreed: this was a tactic designed to confuse and mislead them.

And so, after a brief moment of attention that pushed the theory to the top, the very same spotlight became the reason for its rapid downfall. While there were still some who believed the theory held merit, public opinion shifted quickly. After all, when even the truth is loudly dismissed as false, it becomes easy for people to doubt what might actually be real.

It wasn’t so different from the kinds of speculations back on Earth—rumors about actors and celebrities, where well-orchestrated PR stunts convinced audiences of things that were never true. What was happening here followed the same pattern, only on a much larger scale—and with far more complexity.

The other possibility, of course, was that it was the truth—the most accurate theory among all the speculations and analyses put forth by various experts. And yet, it was dismissed, buried under a narrative branding it as false and deliberately manipulative. The irony? Many powerful factions failed to notice the obvious signs, overlooking what might have been the most genuine insight simply because it was too inconvenient to acknowledge.

As rumors continued to spread and more theories surfaced across the Galactic Net, tension rippled through the populace. The confusion that was already present only deepened, especially among powerful individuals from various factions—each unable to discern truth from fabrication.

Meanwhile, in a place unknown to most—yet undeniably the center of all this chaos—a change had occurred, one done by none other than the Void Fleet.

In the Holy Region—more accurately, the Sol Region—the Solar System—on the Moon, a colossal portal tore open on its southern hemisphere. It was massive, large enough to swallow the Moon itself. From within, mana-powered ships began to pour out—thousands at first, then tens of thousands—emerging in perfect coordination and formation.

Some of these vessels were enormous, stretching up to 14 kilometers in length, and there were at least ten of them. They were followed by fleets of other ships ranging from 1 to 10 kilometers in size, numbering in the thousands, possibly tens of thousands.

The armada included every class of warship imaginable: dreadnoughts, battleships, heavy and light cruisers, massive carrier-class missile platforms, destroyers of both light and heavy design, frigates in similar categories, and swift corvettes. Among them were also special-class vessels—warp ships, mobile space gates capable of instantaneous deployment across vast distances.

In total, nearly one hundred thousand warships

These one hundred or so ships belonged to the same class, with only one major difference—the ten enormous vessels, each 14 kilometers in length. These were the Ragnarok-class warships. Though classified as dreadnought battleships, they were equipped with different armaments and served various specialized roles.

Out of the ten, about three were all-purpose grand battleships. The remaining seven served distinct functions: some fulfilled dual roles as both battleships and fleet carrier-class ships, while others were heavily armed with missile systems, designed specifically for high-volume, saturated attacks—ideal for facing numerically superior enemies.

A few were of the heavy shielding type, equipped like protectors or guardians for the fleet.

As for the rest of the fleet, the ships remained largely uniform in design, with no major differences—at least not visibly or structurally. However, all of them had undergone significant upgrades over the past century. These changes, born from a hundred years of technological progress and accumulated expertise, had been fully integrated into the design and capabilities of these warships when they were finally produced.

From the initial fleet of just one thousand ships to now a staggering one hundred thousand—the increase marked a calculated growth of 9,900%. And what was truly terrifying wasn’t just the number, but the time it took: a mere 14 days in real-world time. While over a hundred years had passed within the universe’s artificial timeline set by Kallus, the rapid progress would still send chills down the spine of many.

After all, the creation of such a massive number of warships would demand an astronomical amount of resources—far more than even many Tier-One superstates could afford. And those were civilizations with millions upon millions of years of foundation behind them, yet they still hadn’t managed to field fleets of this scale.

Though this feat was a one-time event for Kallus, it was enough.

Now, for the first time, he had a fleet vast and powerful enough to face whatever threats lay ahead. Well, not truly the first time—he already possessed his mighty Obliterator-class dreadnought, an indestructible ship, along with several other, more conventional vessels. But compared to the Obliterator, those were far fewer in number, which had prevented him from fully focusing on conquest or stabilizing newly claimed territories with the additional manpower he simply didn’t have.

But now, things were different.

but now, things were different.

He no longer had to worry about the Solar System or the people living there. Of the one hundred thousand ships under his command, thirty thousand were specifically designed for internal defense or system-level conquest—to protect the inner boundaries. All in all, he was now truly ready to begin.