As the territory of the Sub-King’s habitat continued to shrink, Sarkdi, pressing toward the enemy’s stronghold, exchanged battle zones with Clark.
“I need to tear him apart personally,” the silver-gray female said, looking at the central region of the star map. His wings hung low behind him as he explained, “This is the rule, and it is a task the initiator of a Death Duel must complete.”
“He and I share the same source; we are destined to return to one. Only one of us can survive until the end.”
The silver-gray eyes held a hint of a smile. “And you haven’t even been an adult for a full Great Cycle yet, have you?”
“You are impressive. Your experience and judgment surpass almost every insect I have ever met, but your scales are not yet hard enough.”
“Do not underestimate a Sub-King.” The leader of the Grey-Winged tribe sighed softly, picking up a floating model of the Old King’s Nest to examine it closely. “Perhaps those widespread rumors have given you some misconceptions about Krisha, but we would never allow a weakling to sit upon the throne. Krisha himself is actually very powerful... he is different from the Katra you challenged before.”
“Every fellow who differentiates into a Sub-King has devoured a portion of the Queen’s remains. There is a chasm of difference between them and ordinary Direct Lineages.”
Sarkdi: “...”
He was already quite old in spirit, yet he was being protected by his boss like a newly matured hatchling. If he counted his previous life, he should actually be older than Clark. It was a truly surreal experience.
“Are you certain of victory?” he asked.
It wasn’t that he insisted on meddling in the core battle; as long as Clark could successfully topple the opponent, Sarkdi was perfectly content to engage in "friendly sparring" in the outer war zones with the neighboring spectators who were hovering around, waiting to scavenge.
“He will die.” His gaze dropping, the silver-gray female gave his promise.
And so, they split up once more.
When Sarkdi arrived at the outer battlefield, the Pedipalp and Broad-winged species—who had been terrified by the "Butcher of the Northern Front"—found that a stranger of unknown breed had taken over. They once again had the gall to tentatively press forward.
Consequently, they suffered a double blow, chased by Sarkdi across the distance of a small star system.
There is a realistic foundation for why history repeats itself. Perhaps these neighbors harbored the mindset of: *We can’t beat Clark, but can’t we beat a newly matured little female?* After all, the resources of the Grey-Winged tribe were too abundant, and such a large-scale internal schism was a rare sight. If they missed this golden opportunity for hunting, who knew how long they would have to wait for the next.
Then they discovered that they couldn't win. They really couldn't win.
But for some unknown reason, the Broad-winged and Pedipalp species refused to leave entirely, preferring to waste away while waiting for an opportunity to strike. After being chased and bitten by Sarkdi for several rounds, the now-obedient insects kept a respectful distance. The moment he moved toward them, they would immediately turn tail and run.
The coldness of a black Core Species and the ferocity of the Grey-Winged tribe were not of the same type.
The bellicose savagery of the Grey-Wings was etched into their genes; they were merely following their nature. Sarkdi, however, was calculating.
Except for his own tribe and allies, every other tribe was a target for "rectification." It wasn't a gentle negotiation. Just as he had decided back on the energy planet, he did not hesitate to use any means necessary to knead this species into a shape he found pleasing, filing down all the defiant edges.
It wasn't out of some noble moral ideal; it was simply because it needed to be done.
As a result, while he was chasing a squad of Broad-winged species across the universe, he received a communication from Gera.
This was actually quite rare. The male understood that his partner was on the battlefield; no matter how anxious the wait, he almost never took the initiative to contact Sarkdi unless it was an urgent situation.
“I feel like something is wrong,” was the first thing Gera said after the connection was established. His background was the Information Nest. Recently, the male had been quietly tinkering, trying to establish a stable authorization path between himself and the Great Information Nest, occasionally sending intercepted intelligence to the Core Species and to Arthur on Clark’s side.
Krisha never expected that while he held the physical body of the Great Information Nest, the enemy was digging a hole along the base of the wall to steal his home.
“What’s wrong? Where is the problem?” The Core Species had raised this male himself and knew exactly how reliable his partner was regarding serious matters. Anything that made Gera rush to find him wouldn't be a small thing; the last time, the shock the male brought was the news of the Grey-Winged tribe’s split.
“The Great Information Nest is very strange.”
However, this time the male hesitated, as if he hadn't fully grasped the situation himself.
“It... seems like something has gone wrong. Theoretically, I’ve established an inherent link, but now the pathway has suddenly become extremely unstable... and its data is corrupting at a very, very fast speed... large areas of information are disintegrating.”
“Messages are being sent out continuously to all the surrounding tribes. If you try to receive them, you should be able to intercept some.”
Clark had already cleared his way to the core area; a direct confrontation with the Sub-King was expected at any moment. For the Great Information Nest to act up at this critical juncture was not a good sign.
“I’m trying to divert all the backups to other places, but it’s very difficult. The volume of the Great Information Nest is too massive.” Gera’s speaking speed was very fast; clearly, he was working while maintaining the communication.
“My mental power isn't enough to support a sufficiently strong, high-traffic pathway. No insect can do it.”
“It is the hub for all data, the content is complex and difficult to parse. If a physical accident happens to the Nest’s main body, I am powerless on my own.”
“Just the parts I’ve rescued so far are already about to burst every small Information Nest in the habitat.”
“I understand.” Sarkdi summoned Kleiman as quickly as possible while instructing Gera: “Don’t overdo it. If anything feels wrong, disconnect immediately—a collapsing mental pathway is dangerous. Don’t forget the accident you encountered before.”
“The Great Information Nest isn't important. It’s just an incomplete model; it’s not worth risking your safety for.”
“Do you understand?”
This was actually a lie.
The Great Information Nest was derived from the remnant model of the *Fahna*, the first starship in the universe. Even if it was a cluttered, semi-finished product, it didn't change the fact that it shared the same blueprint as the Data Firmament. Once the Great Information Nest collapsed, the consequences would be like the entire internal network of the human Milky Way exploding—the information hub, the initial database, and all deep-space communication channels would cease to exist.
“Okay,” the male answered obediently, but his hands, quietly glued to the link bolts and the operation screen, showed that he had no intention of listening.
Sarkdi had given him a *Dawn*, a chance to fly into the sky; he had promised to give the other a complete Great Information Nest.
Hanging up the communication, the black female immediately faced the Armed Species leader.
“Can you contact Clark?” he asked.
“I can’t,” Kleiman replied. He had heard the latter half of the conversation, his tail flicking behind him. “The commander has entered the Sub-King’s nest for the final encirclement. All communications are in an unconnected state.”
“Our internal channels are very unstable; it might also be caused by transmission issues.”
“I must rush over there to see what happened on Clark’s side.” Sarkdi’s sixth sense had always been accurate; this near-beastly intuition had saved him countless times in war. If he felt a bad omen, then in all probability, something bad was bound to happen.
“Can you hold out on your own?” He looked at Kleiman. “Those Broad-winged and Pedipalp species haven't fully retreated yet. They might rush into the habitat to attack the defenseless nest areas at any time. I need you to stay here.”
“Fine.” The Armed Species leader’s answer was also concise. “I will stop them.”
“Not just stop them.” Sarkdi’s golden-brown pupils looked at him. “You must protect the entire population behind you... the Core Gene tribes aren't that easy to get rid of. They’ve seen that this war of succession will result in mutual losses, and like blood-sucking flies, they are circling the prey’s wounds, ready to bite at any moment.”
“Clark and I have drawn away all the armed forces. Those remaining in the habitat are mostly males, hatchlings, and some middle-to-low-tier species.”
“Once attacked, they lack sufficient retaliatory power. Even if they can mobilize orbital defense facilities, it will be hard to stop the combined assault of two Core tribes.”
“I know.” The cold-faced female gave a grunt. He didn't look displeased, nor did he look particularly happy; his tail just moved behind him. “No matter what, I will not let them cross the line or have the chance to rush into the habitat’s nest area.”
And so, the Core Species, who had only been separated for two days, planned his jump points in the shortest time possible. After arranging his subordinates, he prepared to rush back to the area where his boss was.
Had he known, they shouldn't have swapped battlefields. The previous arrangement—Clark fighting external enemies while he thrashed the Sub-King’s troops—was actually quite good.
But it was useless. Core Gene tribes were, in a sense, very instinctual. If Clark wanted to replace the Sub-King, he had to personally bite through Krisha’s throat. Since the era of the Queen, the Direct Lineages of this race had slaughtered one another, killing their own brothers; only the one who survived until the end was qualified to ascend the high platform.
Clark was the one who initiated the Death Duel. Even a follower as blind as Kleiman never thought of using underhanded tactics to assassinate the Sub-King. They accepted this struggle as the default.
And Sarkdi, as an outsider, could only be a spectator unless he wanted to immediately usurp power himself.
“I’ll be back as soon as possible.” The Core Species gave a final pat to Kleiman’s shoulder. “I’m leaving this side to you for now.”
However, at the very moment he set out, the male far away in the habitat bled for the first time in a long while.
The data storage area of the Great Information Nest was collapsing at an extraordinary speed. Just trying to stabilize the shattered transmission pathway had already consumed a massive amount of Gera’s mental power; redundant pressure was constantly accumulating.
Something strange had truly happened in the Old King’s Nest area.
Gera, still unaware that his partner was rushing back alone, used his maximum speed to rescue and divert basic data backups to every small Information Nest within the Grey-Winged tribe. But it was far from enough; it was like using small lakes to receive the volume of an ocean—disordered information was constantly overflowing.
He couldn't contact Arthur either. When Arthur entered the core star system starting from the Old King’s Nest, he had still been cooperating with Gera, remotely parsing the defense mechanisms of the Great Information Nest. But not long after, the communication had been completely severed.
The white male was actually very afraid.
Because Sarkdi and Clark were too powerful, this fear had been well-hidden before. But he had seen too much slaughter between Core tribes; he himself was born from one of them. His kin had been forced to migrate collectively because they lost a struggle.
Sarkdi had built a warm little nest to shield him from the wind and rain, but everything outside that nest was the icy survival environment that matched the most primitive colors of this species.
He liked Arthur very much, he liked Clark very much, he liked all the males and hatchlings he had met, and he even liked Kleiman, who didn't express emotions directly. Of course, he loved his dearest partner most of all.
Everything now was better than any future he had ever imagined. He didn't want this fragile, glass-like little nest to break.
Just then, the male’s mental power suffered a shock. The already precarious information pathway almost entirely collapsed.
Something even further away had shattered.
It was as if a part of the Great Information Nest was letting out a wail of sorrow. This resonance triggered an information tsunami that affected almost every terminal in a receiving position.
All communications broke down completely. The entire star system of the Grey-Winged tribe fell into a chaotic state of total disconnection.
And outside the star systems of the Zerg and humans, thousands of light-years or even further away, a giant object floating in deep space slowly opened its "eyes."
All subsequent starships were based on the first-generation starship as a core template, and it heard the mournful, dying cry of its fellow source. That cry was calling to it.
—Another fragmented model of the *Fahna* was about to disintegrate.
Ignoring the limitations of distance and space, this was a typical characteristic of the Akashic Rift. This characteristic was fully inherited by the *Fahna* and manifested in all products modeled after it—such as the Data Firmament, the remnant model of Camlann, or the Zerg’s Great Information Nest. This was why they could complete deep-space communications and support the opening of unrestricted ports.
Before this, instantaneous communication over ultra-long distances measured in light-years had always been an insurmountable barrier.
The crimson outer armor retracted, and the massive warship, which had been submerged in endless darkness, slowly emerged. It was a form that would plunge all Zerg into terror.
It deactivated countless alarm protocols regarding the illegal use of ports.
Neither humans nor Zerg would allow the other to open a port of the River of Time directly into their own homes; for this reason, they had set up innumerable protective measures.
But at this moment, the scarlet starship used its autonomous consciousness to snuff out every warning, crushing the shackles that hindered its progress. Before the defense mechanisms could lock it down, it forcibly activated its own onboard River of Time.
Crossing more than half the galaxy, crossing the domains of humans and the swarm.
The landing coordinates were set upon the ruins of the former King’s Nest.
It was going to the side of its own kind.
***
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