A fleet of spaceships blasted through space and headed for the newly discovered civilization.
In the mothership, Netchaz sat quietly in the captain's cabin. Even though it had been just over a month and a half, there were dark circles under his eyes and a gloomy expression on his face.
All the arrogance that the Young Master Netchaz possessed was gone. Now, only a solemn teenager with a heavy mission on his shoulders remained.
Compared to when they set off, more than half of the ships were missing. They lost three rank 2s and plenty of rank 1s. The loss of Sovereigns and the lower powerhouses was something they didn't even bother to count.
"Young Master, Eeral succumbed to her injuries." The door opened with a reluctant creak and an old man with a long beard bowed.
The news of a rank 1 passing away wasn't so new anymore. But it still caused Netchaz to grip his seat's armrest tightly.