Roya could have joined forces with the Star Spirit, drawing on the planet's source energy to expand his spiritual perception into a vast domain, shielding the entire world within it so that no one would suffer from the crushing pressure and chaos spreading across the globe.
But he knew very clearly that such protection would, in the long run, do this world more harm than good.
Just as Im had said, the enemy's space fleet would certainly not be limited to the single pyramid ship looming beyond the astral portal.
When the day came to face the enemy's full armada, if only the thousand or so fighters at the current warfront could stand and fight, then this world would be utterly doomed.
This oppressive might, blanketing the whole planet, was in fact a test and a crucible for every being upon it.
Only by enduring this extinction-level crisis—and then being infused with the Star Spirit's energy—could all life on the planet undergo its metamorphosis, breaking free once and for all from the shackles of genetic hierarchy.
From that moment forward, they would no longer be creations and tools of the alien harvesters, but a true civilization of wisdom, bound to their world in mutual survival.
In this process, those who fell to madness, suicide, or slaughter were tragic but necessary sacrifices for the ascension of the whole world.
Roya sighed inwardly, withdrawing his focus from the chaos unfolding across the world that the Star Spirit had been transmitting to him.
"Rest in peace… your sacrifice will not be in vain. I swear I will make those self-styled higher beings—who plunder our lives and souls with impunity—pay a price beyond imagining."
His eyes hardened as he gazed toward the heart of the glowing membrane.
On the far side of the astral portal, the pyramid ship had, without a sound, adjusted itself so that its command chamber now faced directly toward this world.
Its sheer scale was staggering. Of all those present, no one had noticed its subtle movement—no one, except Roya, who had long since extended his perception through the portal, taking in the vessel's full form in his senses.
The command chamber occupied the entire top level of the pyramid.
Though this was the smallest level, its vastness and design gave it the gravitas of a grand temple.
There, reclining upon a throne just beneath the great central seat at the pyramid's apex, was the Seventh Overlord—the very one Green Bull had spoken of.
In appearance he was little different from the ordinary skeletal soldiers, save that the green fire pulsing in his eye sockets burned with far greater vitality.
Within Roya's perception, the Seventh Overlord's demeanor was one of utter ease and relaxation, as though the rebellion on this resource world was hardly worth his notice.
Beyond the animated flames in his sockets, what set him apart from lesser skeletons were two identical sigils: one large upon his chest, one smaller upon his forehead.
The smaller sigil on his brow even flickered with green flame, resonating with his eyes in an eerie, profound manner.
Almost against his will, Roya's perception was drawn into that sigil.
At the barest touch, he sensed an endless stream of information flowing outward, waiting for him to accept and interpret it.
He immediately pulled back, cutting off the contact, lest he be dragged deeper.
For in that fleeting instant he had realized: this sigil was linked to some existence so far beyond his current level that he could not possibly comprehend it.
Prolonged contact would inevitably devastate his will—and might even result in his consciousness being captured.
That would be disastrous.
Yet even from this brief brush, Roya gained something.
At the very least, he could now conclude with some certainty: this so-called Seventh Overlord was directly subordinate to that unknown being.
Their relationship was akin to Green Bull and the spore-clouds he released, except that the Overlord possessed far more autonomy than those clouds did.
This meant that the so-called Dynasty of the Fearless was structured in a way more resilient and unyielding than any system Roya had ever known.
At last, Roya's probing perception drew the Overlord's notice.
It was not that the being had failed to sense him before; he had simply not bothered to care.
Perhaps it was the fact that Roya had not been ensnared by the sigil's overwhelming tide of higher-order data, or perhaps it was mere boredom while waiting for the portal to fully open—but now the Overlord finally took interest.
The flames within his sockets shifted subtly, like living eyes, and through the veil of the portal he fixed his gaze upon Roya.
"So it is you. We meet again."
The voice of his will rang directly within Roya's mind.
Roya's brows furrowed as he instantly grasped the meaning. The "meeting again" referred to that moment he had once shared through the Star Spirit's memory, when their gazes had crossed.
In other words, what had occurred within the Star Spirit's recollections had, for the Overlord, been no different from a true encounter with his own self.
Roya tried to project his intent through spiritual perception to communicate, but to his astonishment, while his perception could indeed reach the far side of the portal, his will itself was mercilessly blocked.
"As I thought… his spiritual perception surpasses mine. No wonder he sits so nonchalant, as though nothing matters."
Roya gave a low snort, but within, a fierce battle spirit surged.
So long had he been unrivaled in this world that he had nearly forgotten the feeling of a true challenge.
Now, with an enemy clearly beyond him standing across the veil, he felt his blood boil anew, yearning to test his limits and push past them through combat.
"Come then—show me what you're truly capable of!"
As though sensing Roya's thirst for battle, the flames in the Overlord's eyes flared brightly for an instant.
And in that instant, a storm of spiritual energy erupted, like a thunderclap, breaking through the portal's barrier to crash against Roya's still-fragile perception.
Roya's eyes flew wide. His spiritual perception contracted, condensed to its utmost limit, standing firm like a lone reef battered by furious seas—unyielding, fearless, braving the crashing tide.
"Let him be strong as he will—still, the breeze passes lightly over Mountain Ridge!"
In that moment, a flash of insight stirred in his heart. Grasping it tightly, he stilled his spirit, and at once the external pressure dissolved into nothing, leaving him once more free and unbound.
The Overlord's spiritual assault ended there, cut off as abruptly as it had begun.
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