1

At the other corner of the solar system, diametrically opposite to where the Pala Princes were staying, a patch of space cracked.

It expanded slowly, the red crack inside wriggling like a living slime before it stabilized into a rectangular door shape.

The fluctuations of space began to spread from the red space door. If left to themselves, they'd spread from this end to the other end of the solar system.

It might not be detected by rank 4 awakeners, but peak rank 6 to low rank 7—the suspected ranks of Black Rose members—would be able to detect the fluctuations clearly.

To prevent that scenario, a few blue orbs were thrown out of the red crack which quickly distorted the gravity and wrapped the surrounding area of space.

The fluctuations that were supposed to go out in a straightline curved into a loop and confined within the space.

A few colorless orbs were shot out of the door next. These orbs did something weirder and absorbed the space fluctuations.

The final items that came out were a few cubes that isolated the surrounding area from giving out any life, space, or gravity fluctuations.

Prince Xoler, like other Zions, was 5-foot tall, purple-skinned, and looked as human as a purple skin could get.

"Humanity, huh." Xoler pursed his lips, the brilliant sun reflecting in his purple irises. "The piece no one knew toppled the abyssals."

The information sent back by Oleg detailed the history of the human race.

The Abyssals—whose entire race: every warrior, scholar, and powerhouse—couldn't even amount to a mob in front of Zions—were ironically the biggest enemies humans faced so far.

Xoler had read some documents by eminent human historians who described the abyssals as some sort of devil spawn, the harbingers of death, destruction, and damnation.

Perhaps that's why, Black Rose stationed themselves here. This was such a backward place that even their pets wouldn't want to live here.

An old man with three conspicuous facial scars stepped out with a long sword and a heavy shield.

Xoler frowned. "Sage Nevar, I told you it's going to be safe. I have done this before."

"One should always be prepared, Prince. Always." Sage Nevar replied with a calm expression and put away his shield.

"You can always teleport away," Xoler said.

Nevar's expression broke for a moment before it quickly recovered.

Despite being a Zion, he awakened in the space path and was shunned by everyone. So, he joined the army and achieved massive success before retiring.

No one could shun him now. But the duchy hadn't embraced him like he hoped they would. Every time the topic came up, Nevar felt like they were pointing fingers at him and ridiculing his birth.

"Sometimes, running away is more dangerous than staying and fighting." The old man said and turned to the red space door.

"Champion Gor. Enter."

"Gor! Gor! Gor!"

With heavy sounds of metal rubbing, the 6-foot Gor walked out.

Compared to Xoler who was the typical 5 foot of Zions and Nevar who was 4 foot, he looked like a giant.

But—

"Come," Gor made a gesture to the door.

Shockwaves of aura began to leak out. A red-skinned, red-haired giant standing at 8-foot walked out of the door.

He had an emotionless face coupled with dull eyes and stood like a statue.

It was a—

"Hybrid," Xoler opened his mouth in surprise and felt like someone punched him in the gut.

'So this is where that fortune went! He bought a rank 7 Hybrid! But why? We don't need one!'

A star system in Zion duchy was attacked by a dangerous spiritual species that escaped from a laboratory.

They requested help. The Zion Imperial Court assured the public that they were going to hire professionals to remove the parasites and bring back the infected—who acted nothing more than zombies—back to their senses.

It was a publicly announced failure since the species were a much more advanced version than initially believed. The planets and the star were rented off for a hundred years to private laboratories as they were too infested.

The truth was much simpler. The Zions never hired any professionals. The army was sent to slaughter those twenty billion lives.

Xoler heard the finance minister boast during a banquet. They not only 'saved' the costs of hiring a professional group, but also didn't have to spend any funds on rehabilitating those twenty billion.

Not just that, they also amassed a fortune by renting out the star system. The previous finance minister, though irredeemably corrupt, never crossed some lines. He was dismissed by Duke Jataur after they had some 'ideological' differences.

'He lost his job than do this disgusting thing. He's not as much as a piece of shit I thought he was,' Xoler laughed bleakly.

Looking at the strong, tall and ripped Hybrid exuding two rank 7 auras, he felt as if he was seeing the dead bodies of 20 billion Zions.

Sage Nevar noticed his emotional fluctuations but didn't bother. Calmly moving around the hybrid, he inspected it like an appraiser checking out a weapon.

"Not bad. Is he fully under your command?" The old man asked.

Champion Gor nodded, his charred face cracking a smile that was more menacing and less reassuring.

Nevar didn't care. He had seen worse in the army.

What the three of them—since Hybrid Mor couldn't think anyway—didn't know was that even though they made the best preparations and acted with utmost caution, they would've been caught.

The fortresses used by the Princes weren't there for defense. The Princes didn't need to be defended. What they were for was primarily to search for any space fluctuations.

Varian anticipated this problem and used his own sliver powers to create a few fields of isolation around this space crack long back.

It was all a gargantuous task.

Firstly, he had to move the space crack to the edge of the solar system—to the current position of the Princes.

Second, he had to erase all traces of that movement.

Third, he had to use his space powers, create another space crack from the existing one.

Four, he had to move that space crack to a diametrically opposite position of the solar system.

Simply calling it 'Hard work' would be doing a grave injustice to what he had to go through.

"Let's first meet Oleg."

The pieces were moving, just as planned.