Legacy of the Void Fleet-Chapter 327: Ch

Meanwhile, the Minotaurs—specifically Jarkon, alongside Mimosa and Zyth—were currently in a shuttle heading toward the Star Empire fleet. Their goal was to convince their allies to stay and deal heavy damage to their now-mortal enemies before leaving the system.

They had previously considered directly contacting the Grand Admiral regarding the insights they had gathered on the sudden appearance of this "unknown enemy," but Jarkon had rejected that idea. According to him, a face-to-face meeting would give them more leverage over the Star Empire; he believed they could use certain tricks to perhaps make the "Star Race" do their bidding.

Though Mimosa and Zyth weren’t entirely convinced, they ultimately decided to follow Jarkon’s lead, regardless of how he wanted things done.

The clueless Minotaurs had no idea that their plan was already over before it could even be implemented. Jarkon was lost in thought, calculating just how much damage he could inflict on the "Void Humans" by utilizing these "mentors" of his. If successful, he felt he could achieve legendary results, and he was more confident than ever. He had no realization that nothing he wished for would happen today. If anything, things were about to go in a direction more terrifying than he could have ever imagined.

Nearing the Star Empire fleet, the shuttle was intercepted by the Starfleet vanguard and ordered to halt.

"[This is Starfleet to unknown Minotaur vessel. You are to stop and hold your position immediately. Confirm your intent. You have been warned: if you dare move more than a mile from your current coordinates, you will be considered an enemy and treated as such.]"

Jarkon, hearing the broadcast along with the others, was left stunned and speechless. The same went for his companions. Their identity should have been obvious; the vessel they were traveling in was a diplomatic craft—a detail they had discussed beforehand. It was supposed to be granted clearance to approach the fleet in times of need.

Zyth, regaining his bearings, frowned deeply as a cold sensation washed over him. He felt that something was about to go horribly wrong.

Jarkon, feeling both frustrated and embarrassed at being stopped—and increasingly Dreadful as alarms began to blare throughout the small vessel—shouted to the cockpit. "W-what happened?! Why are the alarms ringing?"

"Vice-Admiral!" the pilot spoke, his voice shaking with terror. "We... we have been locked on by the Starfleet vessels. Their weapon systems are hot!"

"It looks like if we even dare to move a few inches, we’ll be facing an all-out attack! Do something! Please, tell those Star People who we are, or they might as well shoot us down!" With the lingering fear of death clawing at him, the pilot couldn’t help but plead for his life.

"Grand Commander Zyth, see to it! Find out what is happening! Contact your counterpart immediately, or we might truly be considered hostile by our own allies," Jarkon said. His voice carried a sharp hint of urgency, underscored by a fear he tried desperately to hide.

Internally, however, he was a storm of curses. What is wrong with these Star Race people? To do something like this... we are their allies, for God’s sake! Don’t they recognize us? Damnit! If this isn’t resolved, we might actually die at their hands instead of the enemy’s. Damnit, I feel like a fool for even coming here. It would have been better to remain on the flagship and talk from there... everything would have been clear then. Damnit!

"I hope this is only a misunderstanding and nothing else," Jarkon thought as he swallowed hard, his throat dry with nerves.

Zyth nodded. "I’ll contact Grand Admiral Flexie at once." Knowing the urgency of the situation, Zyth didn’t even blink. He quickly opened the communication device attached to his left wrist, tapping a sequence into the interface. Fortunately, the Grand Admiral accepted the transmission immediately, and a small holographic figure materialized above Zyth’s hand.

It was none other than Duke Flexie. Seeing the connection go through, Zyth sighed in relief. (Looks like it isn’t as bad as it seemed; quite possibly, it was just a miscommunication.)

"Greetings to you, Grand Commander of the Minotaur Clan," Flexie said with utter indifference. "Speak. Why have you reached out to me?" He motioned with his hand for Zyth to continue.

"Hello, hello, Duke Flexie!" Zyth said before proceeding to bow. "It is my honor to be in your presence, Duke of the Star Empire and capable hand of your Great Emperor. The reason I have reached out is that I am currently on board a vessel heading toward your flagship to report on something urgent that must reach your ears. But before we could even proceed, we were stopped by your fleet and told not to move, lest we be targeted."

With a hint of disguised complaint, Zyth continued, "True to their words, our ship is currently locked in the sights of your weapon batteries. I plead with you to help us and allow us into your graceful presence to report, Lord Duke!" Zyth bowed again, abandoning the pride of his position. He knew he needed to please the Duke with every ounce of praise he could muster, without appearing too desperate.

Hearing this, Flexie’s face didn’t change at all. Internally, he thought: You have a way with words, but unfortunately, they carry no weight because the standing of your race is even less. It would be better not to be praised at all than to be praised by a lowly creature. Flexie felt a wave of disgust; to him, anything coming from a race with no status was beneath him.

Paying little heed to Zyth’s flattery, Flexie checked his tactical display; his fleet officers had just confirmed that the Elven and Forger Guild fleets had officially entered warp space and jumped out of the star system. Knowing he needed to get away soon and didn’t have much time to spare for the Minotaurs, he decided to get it over with. As for whatever information these Minotaurs had on the "Void Humans"—it likely wasn’t worth the delay.

"Oh? So you haven’t been told anything by the others, huh..." Flexie said, his words leaving Zyth and the others confused. They had no idea what he was talking about.

"Anyway," Flexie muttered, "I don’t have much time to waste on you. But since we are technically in an alliance for the moment, let me inform you: the Elven Empire and the Forger Guild walked away from this star system a moment ago. With that, they have also walked away from the Alliance."

He watched the color drain from Zyth’s holographic face. "We are now outgunned by an enemy we have no information on. Therefore, the Star Empire, the Alchemy Association, and the Mountain Dwarf clan have decided to pull our forces from this place to regroup and replan. I suggest you hurry up as well, or it will be too late."

He added that last sentence with a chilling seriousness before abruptly cutting off the communication.

Zyth didn’t even have time to fully swallow what the Duke of the Star Empire was saying before a series of verbal "bombs" were dropped on him as if they were nothing. Then, Flexie’s hologram completely vanished, leaving Zyth with no chance to clear his confusion.

"What the hell was he speaking about?! Why did no one tell me?!" Zyth screamed, his voice cracking. "What is this about the Elven Empire and the Forger Guild already leaving the star system? How was I not aware of this?! How could this even happen?!"

He stood there, staring at his empty wrist where the hologram had been, his mind racing to catch up with the devastating reality. The alliance hadn’t just fractured—it had evaporated. The "Elite" powers had made their choice in secret, and the Minotaurs were never part of the exit plan.

Zyth felt it clearly, as did Jarkon and Mimosa. If Zyth hadn’t reached out to the Starfleet and their Duke, would they have been left completely in the dark regarding this secret move made by the five Tier One elite forces?

For all they knew, the so-called "escape" of the Elven and Forger Guilds might just be an excuse the Star Empire had concocted to save face. To protect their own reputations, they were more than willing to sacrifice the lives of others. After all, it was shameful for such "powers" to flee this star system.

Thinking about it, Zyth turned toward Jarkon. He felt a dark sense of amusement mixed with pity; before Jarkon could even place his cards on the table, the table itself had been overturned by the very people he was supposed to play with. Jarkon had become the punchline of a joke he was about to start himself.

Above all, the warning the Duke of the Star Empire had left him with weighed heavily on Zyth’s mind. His senses told him that something immensely terrible was about to happen. But before he had any time to think further, the pilot’s voice cracked over the intercom.

"Commander! We have an emergency! An incoming message is coming from the fleet... and... and the sensors!"