Without the protection of its shields, the battleship's thick armor was like paper before the particle beams.
Where the beams passed, alloys were vaporized and evaporated layer by layer, tearing terrifying gashes thousands of meters long and hundreds of meters wide into the hull.
The internal anti-reactor compartments, ammunition depots, and habitation zones were completely swept through and detonated by the high-energy particle streams.
Giant orange-red fireballs violently erupted from the breaches, illuminating the entire theater.
The battleship's massive frame began to tilt and fracture, losing all power, turning into a floating steel coffin.
The final blow came from the Venom Plasma Torpedoes.
Several torpedoes encased in magnetic confinement casings silently slid out of their launch tubes, trailing faint purple wakes as they flew toward the still-burning, struggling Imperial heavy vessels.
As the torpedoes closed in on their targets, the magnetic confinement casings disengaged.
Unstable plasma clusters with internal temperatures reaching hundreds of millions of degrees were instantly released.
Forming rapidly expanding, purple-red destruction clouds several kilometers in diameter, they completely engulfed the remaining Imperial warships.
Under the extreme heat of the plasma, the warships' metal structures directly sublimated, twisted, and melted.
Even the battleship's thick gun barrels bent and melted like wax.
All ships caught within the clouds, after a brief flash of intense light,
Completely lost their forms, turning into slowly cooling, twisted metal wreckage.
Stargate Defense Perimeter, aboard the Demon Prince battleship.
Admiral Scott watched helplessly on the tactical screen as nearly a hundred icons representing their own Rapid Reaction Force
Were brutally erased like pencil marks by the cursors representing the Federation Fleet within just a few minutes. He trembled with rage, his eyes wide with fury.
"Damn Federation bastards!"
He roared, slamming his fist onto the control console.
"They waited until we pulled our main force back to the Stargate, then targeted our rapid response fleet!
Cowardly ambushers!"
He sharply turned toward the communication screen, looking at Admiral Armstrong.
But he found the other man pinching his chin with one hand, brow furrowed deeply.
Staring silently at the star chart, seemingly lost in some profound doubt.
"Admiral Armstrong!
What are you still waiting for?"
Scott urged impatiently.
"Order the pursuit immediately!
Those bastards have less than three hundred ships, just the size of a mother-class fleet, and they dare to warp right under our noses to cause trouble.
And they took out over a hundred of our ships!
If we let them retreat unscathed, where will the face of our two joint fleets be?
How can we ever hold our heads up in front of our sister units again?!"
Armstrong looked up, his gaze sharp, his tone thick with suspicion.
"Admiral Scott, calm down.
Don't you think this whole situation reeks of something strange?
A limited-scale Federation Fleet, taking enormous risks to warp into our core territory.
Deploying an unprecedented full-spectrum interference weapon to create chaos.
Then not attacking the Stargate, not engaging our main force in decisive battle.
Just clearing out an outer perimeter guard fleet, and then...
Running away?"
He shook his head.
"They've paid such a tremendous price just to take a sightseeing tour, destroy a few patrol ships, and then run away?
That doesn't make sense.
I suspect they have a greater scheme, or...
This is simply bait."
"Bait?
What bait!"
Scott was furious and wouldn't listen.
"All I see are our starships burning and the enemy fleeing!
If we hesitate any longer, they'll slip into deep space and we'll never catch them!
I don't care about your doubts—my fleet will not suffer such humiliation!"
He ignored Armstrong and turned to his fleet channel.
Shouting with all his might.
"Blood Locust Fleet!
This is Admiral Scott!
I order you to engage immediately!
Target: the retreating Federation Fleet!
Pursue them, pin them down, and annihilate them completely!
I want to see their wreckage littering the stars!"
A steady, battle-ready voice immediately came over the communication channel.
"Blood Locust Fleet acknowledges!
Gavin Knight understands!
Target locked, all units engage!
Your Excellency, the Blood Locust Fleet will accomplish its mission and wash away this disgrace with the blood of the Federation Fleet!"
The moment the order was given.
The massive Duke-class Blood Locust Fleet, which had been guarding the flanks of the Stargate, sprang into action.
Over three thousand warships of various types ignited their engines simultaneously, blazing like a disturbed swarm of bees.
They broke from their original positions, forming a sharp pursuit array, and charged at full speed toward the direction of Qin Bei Wang's retreating fleet.
Within their formation, the figures of over a hundred T5-class battleships stood out prominently, like moving mountains of steel.
The Blood Locust Fleet's massive pursuit array, like a school of sharks scenting blood, cut in from the deep space to the side and rear.
Soon, the distance between the two sides narrowed to just four million kilometers.
On the Kunlun Mountain - Modified Bridge, Qin Bei Wang watched the swarm of red cursors on the tactical screen, almost pressing against them.
His face showed no trace of panic; instead, a faint, satisfied smile appeared.
"What was bound to come has finally arrived."
He murmured, then gave the order.
"Relay orders: Zhen Yue, prepare to activate Titan's Grip.
Tiankui Star Fleet, cover the flanks and construct a defensive barrier."
"Yes, sir!"
The orders were executed instantly.
Within the retreating Federation Fleet, the hundred or so warships of the Tiankui Star Fleet, positioned at the rear of the array, fired short, bright adjustment bursts from their side auxiliary thrusters.
The entire fleet, as if moved by an invisible hand, executed a coordinated and rapid turn, shifting from a retreat posture to an engagement posture.
They quickly deployed, forming a wide, curved defensive line.
Like a fan-shaped shell opening up, they firmly guarded the Mount Stabilizer special-class battleship—exceptionally large and menacing in its hull lines—at the center of the arc.
This series of fluid maneuvers was observed in full by the pursuing Blood Locust Fleet commander, Lieutenant General Gavin Knight.
Watching the Federation Fleet suddenly turn around and assume a defensive formation on the sensor screen.
He was momentarily stunned, then let out an undisguised scoff in his flagship bridge.
"What are they doing!"
"Do they really think a mere hundred starships can hold off our Blood Locust Fleet?
It seems they truly look down on us!"
At that moment, his adjutant made a suggestion.
"Commander, perhaps we should first dispatch two mother-class fleets to intercept that sub-fleet still fleeing.
This remaining fleet seems more like a deliberate rearguard!"
Lieutenant General Knight raised his hand, rejecting his adjutant's suggestion.
"It's just a sub-fleet!
They can't stop us!
No need to divide forces!"
He could already envision victory within reach—the Federation Fleet reduced to dust under his overwhelming firepower.
"Order all ships to maintain formation and advance steadily!
Prioritize concentrated fire on the enemy's outer defensive vessels—break that turtle shell!
Let the Federation scum know that before the Empire's steel tide, any petty tricks are futile!"
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