Legacy of the Void Fleet

Archduke Golden Sword met Archduke Lich’s gaze and gave a slow, deliberate nod.

’Yes, ”might be,”’ Golden Sword transmitted gravely. ’The Fortune of an Empire isn’t a plaything that bends to mere whim. It is an ocean of destiny anchored to the collective wills of trillions upon trillions of our citizens.

Even an emperor cannot manipulate it effortlessly. That is why I cannot say for certain—is this simply a display of his lingering imperial authority, or did his declaration genuinely strike at the foundational laws of the Empire’s Fortune?’

”Even if his words do touch upon the foundation of the empire’s fortune, we don’t all have to take it that seriously just yet,” Archduke Golden Sword continued, casting a deep look at the Star Emperor that held a trace of contempt—contrasted by a faint glimmer of respect.

Pulling his gaze away from the Star Emperor and turning back to the others beside him, he transmitted calmly, ”Even if it is the truth he speaks—and we all know just how much truth there is—” He lingered on the other three for a moment, eyeing Archduke Lich in particular, whose gaze narrowed briefly before steadying once more.

”—even then, it is mostly the Star Emperor’s own fault and greed. It is his instability, his out-of-line, over-the-top methods that never produce the results he claims,” Golden Sword said.

”It isn’t without reason that his orders are ignored, nor is it without reason that he was even thrashed by the elders.”

Listening to these words, the three Archdukes nodded. It was not merely because his stance favored them and avoided painting them in a bad light, but because of how truthful his words were, grounded entirely in the reality of the situation.

Golden Sword noticed this, but paid it no further mind. He wasn’t sparing their feelings by speaking like that—they all should have known him better. He never offered unearned praise, nor did he save face for anyone; he spoke of things as they were, without whitewashing the truth.

”There have been other emperors sitting upon the throne of the Star Empire who wielded the true authority this Star Emperor speaks of. And was that because we simply liked them? Hmm...” Golden Sword paused, but without waiting for any of them to reply, he continued, ”No, it was because they possessed the sheer power to command anyone’s obedience. More than that, they were never reckless or overbearing. Whatever they did, it always, somehow, benefited the empire.”

”And that is why most of us followed every emperor before this one, despite our individual differences. It was precisely because of their capability to keep us in line, even while we held our own ambitions...”

Golden Sword’s voice softened, taking on a pleasant warmth that carried an unmistakable trace of longing. None of the other three found it strange. Hearing those words, they all felt as though time had reversed, allowing them to relive that bygone era.

”What golden days those were...” All four spoke at the exact same moment.

Stunned silence followed. It had been centuries since they were last of one mind, and speaking the same words in unison caught them entirely off guard. At any other time, they would have laughed it off defiantly. But these were not normal times.

”As for the elders, they have always shown the utmost respect to whoever sits upon the throne...” Archduke Ice Soul took over the conversation, cutting in where Golden Sword left off, his tone sharp as though struck by sudden clarity.

”They were just as reverent toward the Star Emperor when he first ascended—just as we were, and just as they had been with the emperors before him.

This current state he complains about is a mess of his own making. In fact, if you all think back, the change began the moment he returned from the ancestral secret realm—the one that has watched over our empire since its very inception.”

”Now that you mention it...” Archduke Darkness murmured, deep in thought before his eyes sharpened. ”A memory comes to mind. Something that seemed trivial back then, something we never paid much attention to. But looking back now, something major has been off with him ever since.”

”He was always overbearing toward your Loyalist Faction,” Duke Darkness said, turning his gaze toward Duke Lich before shifting to Duke Golden Sword, ”and dismissive toward your Neutral Stellar Faction. Yet back then, he still intended to win both of you over, just as past emperors did—to earn your genuine respect and recognition of his authority.”

”All of that vanished after he returned from the secret realm.” Duke Darkness’s frown deepened the more the details fell into place. ”The Star Emperor lost every shred of patience he once had... almost as if he were suddenly running out of time.”

”And then there was that time he even spoke of brokering a truce with the Insect and Mechanical races along our borders, arguing that border stability was the optimal path forward,” Archduke Darkness admitted. ”At first glance, that was actually beneficial for the empire. The incessant skirmishes with those two races had bled us dry with constant, repetitive losses. A ceasefire truly would have been better for all of us.”

Darkness paused, recalling how he—and to some extent, all four of them—had initially welcomed the prospect. It would have relieved the empire’s war machine, freeing crucial resources to divert toward other ventures, such as expanding deeper into the outer realms.

”Right, until he took it a step too far,” Archduke Ice Sol cut in, his voice chilly. ”The Star Emperor didn’t just propose peace—he pushed to form an outright alliance with those two races, and several others, solely to accelerate exploration in the three outer realms. He even wanted to establish joint defensive perimeters inside them.”

”As the emperor, he should understand the deep-seated blood feud between our people and those races better than anyone,” Ice Sol continued, his brow furrowing.

”A truce is one thing—everyone would accept that with open arms. But aligning with monsters whose hands are soaked in the blood of our fallen compatriots? No one would ever stomach that.”

”Archduke Lich would certainly never accept it; his faction had manned the front lines against those two races longer and bloodier than anyone else. ”

”Nor could Archduke Golden Sword ever abide it, as such thing was no differnt than a betrayal which went against every foundational principle his faction stood for. They would never allow it.”

”And I wouldn’t agree either, naturally, being part of the Neutral Faction,” Ice Sol said. ”Though you might have accepted it, Duke Darkness...”

”Yet the Emperor still pushed for it knowingly, without ever giving us a specific reason why we had to do it. Fine, I get it—by doing that, we might have explored the outer realms at a faster rate. But that light wouldn’t belong to us alone. We would be inviting outsiders into the fold, and mortal enemies of our people at that. Secondary to that, our share of the benefits from such an exploration wouldn’t even be that significant.”

”Instead, it would have handed the Insect and Mechanical races the exact resources they need to trigger an explosive surge in their own military strength. And worse yet is the empire’s security, which would crumble the moment we allied with them. It would hand them an open invitation to contest our territories—borders they have coveted for generations. I refuse to believe they would abandon their ambitions so easily, all for a few promises tossed out by the Emperor.”

”In the end, the price would be paid in imperial blood, while we gained next to nothing. Am I right?” Ice Sol said, before falling into a grim silence.

”It was right around then that the Emperor began taking actions, each more extreme than the last,” Golden Sword added darkly. ”And before we knew it, we ended up right where we stand today.”

”But who could have known that this Emperor would do so many extreme things behind our backs, while we remained completely in the dark?” Duke Lich said grimly. ”And by the time we finally discovered the truth, it was already far too late...”

Hearing this, everyone let out a deep, collective sigh filled with bitter regret. It truly was too late, just as Archduke Lich had said.

”They’re finally moving!” Archduke Darkness suddenly barked, his sharp voice tearing the others from their brooding thoughts.

Their gazes snapped toward two towering figures clad entirely in full exo-armor. They were none other than the pair from the Annihilation Armada. Up until now, both had stood motionlessly at their posts, refusing to lift a finger even when the others had launched their joint assault against the Star Emperor. Now, at last, they were advancing—slowly, deliberately closing the distance toward the Emperor.

”Something’s wrong with him, Trek,” one of the Annihilation Legion super-elites transmitted to his comrade.

”You felt it too?” replied a commanding, feminine voice from beneath the adjacent helmet. She was Velcia, fellow super-elite and an invincible Star Law-tier being.