He couldn't fathom the spectacle of a cannon, with a barrel made of two hundred million stars, firing.
He also couldn't imagine the power contained within the Galactic Center if it were unleashed.
In just a few hundred years, a massive stellar system's gravity source was turned into a weapon.
That was what a well-developed Fourth-class Civilization could accomplish, the essence of leading civilizations.
Even if this Fourth-class Civilization was a puppet, controlled by the Slave Tribe, with the passage of time working in their favor, they would have the advantage.
No matter what ingenious strategies or numerous fleets and soldiers were rushing in to help from outside, everything turned into an illusion, and all became meaningless.
In the face of absolute despair, Nico Ross' movements became slower and slower, his thinking gradually congealing as if trapped in a swamp.
At that moment, a murmur suddenly came to his mind.
"Eat it."
Huh?