The grayish Biekelan Planet quietly drifts in the universe. It rotates imperceptibly, revolving around the star numbered B-7-2, which attracts it and provides it with light and heat, similar to what humans call the Sun. This rotation, which deeply signifies the passage of time to humans, has continued since ancient times and will continue until it finally meets its destruction one day.

Compared to the universe, the ancient and weathered Biekelan is like a speck of dust, tiny and insignificant. And for Biekelan, the human fleet less than thirty thousand kilometers away is even more pitifully small. If Biekelan had life, it would find the fight between two groups of ants laughable, just like how an elephant views them.

Humans are not ants; human wars, in fact, could destroy any planet like Biekelan even thousands of years ago. This kind of technology, it's unclear whether it's progress or sorrow. At this moment, in the vast and dark universe, technology once again gives rise to a dazzling battle involving thousands of warships.

The Desic Fleet, making a leap forward with an inexplicable posture and using inertial speed to launch a surprise attack, has crashed into the front of the Southeast Expeditionary Fleet. This premeditated assault by the Desic Fleet's commander Hall uses the most direct method to nullify the defense and firepower advantage of the Feiyang and Ryan battleships at a very close range.

The high-speed cruisers, destroyers, and space fighters swarm in, replacing the heavily armed battleships and becoming the primary actors in the first wave of confrontation. These relatively small space killers twist and turn, fighting at unimaginable speeds.

Countless energy cannon fire and missiles shuttle and collide recklessly. Every warship on both sides is frantically spewing death light balls from every energy cannon on their hull. The fighters dance among the swarm of warships, engaging in mutual killing. The bright red or blue energy shields flicker, casting a fleeting light shadow on the thick, dark armor as they swiftly pass the side of the ships.

As the distance shrinks, the battle grows fiercer.

One explosion after another, large or small, blooms like fireworks against the black night sky, briefly appearing and quickly disappearing. The densely packed warships are intertwined, the energy cannon fire flowing in torrents. The narrow space for the skirmish causes many ships to collide head-on, shattering and exploding. Some ships, struck by debris from other exploding ships, are cut into pieces, with their occupants and contents hurled into the void like splattered blood.

Moth-like fighters, relying on agility to avoid chaos in this extremely messy battlefield, often fail to change direction in time and crash into the shimmering energy shields of the warships, turning into small sparks.

This is a silent and brutal scene; in the vacuum of space, there is no explosion sound, no fierce yelling. In this quiet world, humans are painting the desolate universe with the most cruel yet splendid massacre, as if God has ignited a string of noiseless electric fireworks here.

"First Fleet's left wing has completed the turn, entering the preparatory attack area."

"Fourth Fleet's right wing has completed the turn, entering the preparatory attack area."

"System's anti-jamming capacity has risen to 60%."

"Desic Fleet is dividing, intending to attack our transport fleet."

In the central command room of the Expeditionary Army flagship Poseidon, the reports of the coordinators for command, communications, electronics, fire control, damage control, and landing systems echoed continuously.

Through accurate and swift responses, the Expeditionary Army Fleet managed to endure the initial chaos of the battle. In the subsequent nearly two-hour tug-of-war, this joint fleet of Feiyang and Ryan fully displayed their military professionalism and the combat power forged by their warship technology, firmly intercepting the Desic Fleet's advance.

While the Expeditionary Army's Second, Third, and newly assembled Fifth Fleets were fighting fiercely in the central battlefield, the First and Fourth Fleets successfully accelerated and detached from the enemy, completing strategic turns on the Desic Fleet's flanks, one on the left and one on the right.

The situation became delicate. The Desic Fleet seemed unaware of their disadvantage, continuing their frenzied assault on the Expeditionary Army's middle line. Since the battle began, their fast-paced advance has never stopped. Two of their fleets have completely tangled into the Southeast Expeditionary Fleet's formation. Under their cover, another Desic Fleet is rapidly crossing the front of the Expeditionary Army's formation, heading towards the gathering area of the giant transport ships.

"The Desic people are not lacking in courage for battle." Watching the Desic Fleet's fast sprint, the flying fighters, and the intense energy cannon fire that tangled into the Expeditionary Army's middle line, Fiscella thoughtfully cast her gaze towards the virtually unprotected giant transport fleet.

Standing beside Fiscella, serving as the command coordinator, Deputy Chief of Staff Lieutenant Colonel Delabin of the Expeditionary Army Command Department smiled slightly. The turn of the flanking fleets had already formed a pincer movement against the advancing Desic Fleet. As long as Fiscella issued a command, the Expeditionary Army Fleet would, like a monster, sweep this fleet into their jaws. And the Desic Fleet attacking the giant transport ships would also fail to escape being encircled and annihilated.

"First and Fourth Fleets, hold your positions." Fiscella raised her eyelids slightly, speaking calmly. The fierce battle in the distance outside the bridge and the transport fleet about to face an attack seemed unrelated to him, and the two fleets' two-hour maneuver to complete the side turns seemed merely to choose a better spot to watch.

Everyone was stunned. The officers exchanged puzzled glances, not understanding why Fiscella issued such an order. "First and Fourth Fleets, hold your positions." Delabin quickly reacted and confirmed Fiscella's order firmly as the command coordinator.

Despite the confusion, and although Fiscella was usually someone very open to suggestions and amiable, no one in the entire bridge questioned this command. This order would soon be relayed to every warship in the fleet.

"Any news from the scout units dispatched to the meteorite belt of Resource Planet No. 3?" Fiscella leaned on the armrest of the command seat, resting his head as he gazed at the interstellar map on the main control console.

"Report, General. Currently, within the scouting range, there are no signs of electronic, biological, or energy activities. The scout team is expanding the scouting range." The voice of the Intelligence Coordinator came from the communicator on the main control console.

Fiscella softly sighed and said, "Temporarily cancel the landing and have the transport fleet move to our rear."

"Yes!"

Actually, everyone understood that just a slight directional change by the First Fleet could block the Desic Fleet's assault on the transport fleet. Nevertheless, no one spoke up. Even those military advisers who dared to slam the table during operational analysis meetings remained exceptionally silent.

Because everyone knew that perhaps, in terms of operational style, decisiveness in killing, and operational planning and analysis, Fiscella might not be outstanding. But solely based on his battlefield command, he could easily rank among the great generals of contemporary times.

In battlefield command, Fiscella could definitely rank within the top five among the Feiyang Republic Military generals!

Since he said cancel the landing, then there must be a reason. In terms of battlefield command, no military adviser here dared to criticize his decision. These seemingly unreasonable decisions resulted from an extremely sharp intuition and a wealth of experience, proven correct repeatedly over the years.

The transport fleet swiftly moved behind the First Fleet. Their straight trajectory gradually vanished from the Desic 12th Fleet's line of sight, concealed behind the Expeditionary Army's First Fleet. If the Desic 12th Fleet wanted to continue its pursuit, it would either have to bypass the Expeditionary Army's First Fleet or pass through the First Fleet's ranks!

The Desic 12th Fleet did not pause. This force, seemingly only comparable to a second-rate fleet of the Ryan Republic in terms of Desic Space Force's strength, seemed to ignore the powerful presence of the Expeditionary Army's First Fleet, charging forward without any sign of changing direction.

When the central information system showed that the Desic 12th Fleet began accelerating at a distance of three thousand kilometers from the First Fleet, Fiscella smiled.

The command center was tense; everyone held their breath. Just eight thousand kilometers behind the First Fleet, within a burst of white light, three Desic fleets ended their leap and appeared in space. Faced with front and rear pincers and the dispersed formation disadvantage of the Expeditionary Army Fleet, Fiscella oddly smiled happily.

"Desic Empire's 2nd, 9th, and 13th Mixed Fleets." The Intelligence Coordinator quickly identified the enemy.

Fiscella smiled and asked Delabin, "Do you think Hall would be furious if he found nothing in our transport ships?" (To be continued... For more updates, visit www.qidian.com, support the author, support authentic reading!)

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