Legacy of the Void Fleet-Chapter 290: ch
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As the hidden marines suddenly came out of their stealth, they began launching an attack on the command bridge operators. In an instant, they were given the signal.
Those in close proximity moved in with bladed weapons, slashing here and there to kill the minotaurs around them. Each strike was precise and lethal. Some were cut clean in two, others decapitated before they could react.
For enemies a bit farther away, the marines shifted their weapons into energy handguns and took them down with a few short shots. Every slash and every energy bullet struck with deadly accuracy. The swords ended lives in a single motion, while the energy rounds pierced straight through the fragile bodies of the minotaur operators.
Unlike the normal minotaurs who wore heavy armor, these operators were lightly protected for they were never meant to directly fight a battle. The energy bullets instantly obliterated their hearts and vital organs, killing them on the spot.
It wouldn’t have made any difference even if they had worn that heavy armor like the other warrior-type minotaurs, because the energy bullets would still have pierced it and destroyed their hearts and other internal organs, killing them in the same way.
As the bloodbath unfolded around the command bridge of Taurus Prime, Thoraz, brimming with confidence in his madness, was for a brief moment stunned and surprised. He watched as almost a quarter of his crew died instantly, without any resistance or warning.
However, the shock and surpise did not last long and was quickly pushed aside from his mind.
He refocused his focus once again entirely on the adversary in front of him, ignoring the slaughter of his people as if their lives mattered nothing to him. To a great extent, they infact didn’t really mattered much to him that is mostly beacuse of current state of mind; For the current state of his mind had reached a level that could only be described as far beyond madness.
As Thoraz focused on the adversary ahead, a thought flickered through his mind regarding his crew, who were still being slaughtered like chickens in the wild. If one were to think those thoughts were fueled by rage or a desire for revenge, they would be wrong—at least to some extent.
He didn’t care who the invaders were; he simply thought about the "how." He marveled at how these people had somehow invaded his ship without his knowledge and without alerting a vessel full of his warriors. Their ability to suddenly appear out of thin air was likely the same method they used to infiltrate so deep inside the ship. But no matter their tricks, he remained undeterred: this would not stop him from taking them down.
If these humans of the so-called Void Fleet think they are enough to take me down with a mere trick, they are wrong!" Thoraz sneered internally. "They don’t know the strength of my race! I’ll show them that strength and let them enjoy the sight as I kill them right in front of their comrades’ eyes—just as they are doing to mine!" These thoughts churned in his mind like a cycle of madness.
Then, a second voice surfaced in his mind—his own inner conscience whispering: "Don’t you think they might be stronger than you? Look at their fleet outside..."
He scoffed at his own doubt. "Heh! Those ships in their fleet are likely just leftovers they scavenged from the inheritance of a mighty race destroyed long ago! I refuse to believe a fragile race like theirs could possess the strength of a true warrior race like ours!"
Thoraz spoke to himself, violently rejecting the idea that the humans in front of him were powerful. Instead, he chose to see them as every other human he had encountered in his life: weak, helpless, and fit only to serve a race like his as a slave.
The inner voice spoke once again, persistent and cold: "Then what about how they killed your people? It is no coincidence when hundreds have fallen. And the way they made their entrance... it’s as if the guards outside were already dealt with. Otherwise, they never would have allowed them to step foot inside."
"Heh," Thoraz sneered, dismissing his own logic. "It is likely only because of the armor they wear. It gives them a slight advantage to take down a few of my men, but that is just borrowed strength. What can it do against my own power, which is twenty-fold in this state? I do not fear them, nor their borrowed toys!"
He convinced himself that no being at World Building Rank 5 or below could be his match. With a smirk, Thoraz pushed the slaughter of his crew out of his mind, blaming their deaths entirely on the high-tech suits of the Shadow Division Marines.
With a roar of defiance, Thoraz began to release his aura to its absolute limit. His cultivation surged, temporarily skyrocketing to the World Building Realm 5 Peak. He directed this crushing pressure toward Zena, who stood before him with a posture Thoraz despised—a calm, superior stance that made him feel, deep down, as if he were standing before someone far beyond his reach.
Zena stood firm, sensing the erratic state of the Minotaur leader before her. She had been briefed by her subordinates already inside the bridge, but seeing him in person confirmed their reports. Her spiritual sense told her exactly what had happened: the being in front of her had completely fallen under the control of his Inner Demons.
In the world of cultivation, such a collapse was common, but seeing it here in the heat of battle was telling. She realized that the "conversation" Thoraz had been having moments ago was likely with these dark fragments of his own mind.
Watching him struggle, Zena spoke with a cold, piercing clarity. "You Minotaurs fall so easily to your Inner Demons," she said. "For a race of warriors, you are remarkably unstable. To fall into such a state in the middle of a battle shows just how much control your people lack over your own internal minds and power."
She looked at him with an expression of dismissive pity. "And yet, you still dare to dream of something as grand as reaching a Tier One state, or even ruling this galaxy in the far future. You cannot even rule yourselves."
"You do not realize that your dreams as race will never come true, nor will your race survive in its current form," Zena continued. Her voice was calm, stating facts rather than insults. "Seeing this so-called ’rage state’ of your people—with not even a tiny amount of control—and seeing you, a leader, falling into the hands of your Inner Demons... it is honestly disappointing."
As she spoke, Thoraz’s massive aura pressed down upon her with crushing force. She casually shrugged it off as if it were nothing—and to her, it truly was nothing.
Thoraz’s brow furrowed. Zena’s words enraged him even more than her actions did. He felt a desperate need to refute her. "You... what nonsense are you spewing?" he snarled. "Falling to Inner Demons? Has my power made you so fearful that you’ve resorted to babbling, human?"
He managed a slight grin, forcing himself to ignore the fact that she remained completely unaffected by the mounting pressure. He once again credited her resilience to her armor.
"It seems the legacy of that ancient, mighty race has given you the courage to stand before me," he said, shaking his head as he took a heavy step toward her. "But can that courage last forever? Let’s test it!"
"What?" Hearing his words, Zena was momentarily stunned. The sheer absurdity of his statement left her with a metaphorical question mark hovering over her head. She watched with wide eyes as the Minotaur walked toward her at a leisurely pace, seemingly convinced of his own victory.
Thoraz, completely misinterpreting her stunned silence as paralyzing fear, let out a jagged grin. "Now what happened, human? Fearing me already? I haven’t even started yet! Hahaha! But don’t worry, I won’t kill you just yet. After I defeat you, I will kill your subordinates one by one in the most brutal fashion imaginable! Just as you did to mine, I will make you watch and feel the desperation your people are causing all over this fleet!"
Zena’s initial shock was quickly replaced by a sudden burst of laughter.
"Hahaha! You Minotaurs really are a strange race," she mocked. "You certainly know how to tell a joke in a serious moment. You people always bark about ’borrowed strength’ this, and ’ancient legacy’ that... I don’t know what that Grand Admiral of yours—from the 7th Light Fleet, was it?—was thinking when his bones were being crushed by our Generals. He screamed the same nonsense about our strength being borrowed while he was dying! And here you are, saying the exact same thing! Hahaha!"
"Actually, I should thank you," Zena said, her laughter subsiding into a cold, sharp smile.
