Apocalypse Gachapon Chapter 1876: Descend (3)

Aboard the biggest spaceship beyond the Novice Star, identical scenes appeared across the glowing displays: a compact meeting chamber where multiple holographic forms were positioned.

"Can we trust the details?" inquired a figure with a subdued tone.

As the head of the Su Race, their skills in space surveillance lagged far behind; they excelled instead in building structures and protective formations.

"Why would we deceive you?" replied a female voice, tinged with clear irritation.

Theoretically, this gathering represented the top echelon of the Cosmic races, where such brusque exchanges shouldn't occur.

Yet, circumstances left little choice. The coalitions from Reina Star and Huo’er Star held overwhelming power, used to throwing their weight around. Such dynamics mirrored their superior might.

Without the Slave Races surging twice—first through massive breeding, then via a nutrient surge—destabilizing the Cosmic races' inner affairs severely, this assembly would never have taken place.

"We must prepare ahead of time." The Su Race chief appeared utterly unmoved by the haughty demeanor of this key Reina Star personality, simply offering a nod of assent.

Off to one side, a stout, red-bearded 'dwarf' cast a scornful glance at the Su Race leader. Deep down, he held utter contempt for this individual.

Despite the vast disparity in power, this setup remained highly insulting. He wouldn't display the same patience as the Su Race.

The individual before them wasn't Reina Star's Empress; what risks might arise from challenging her?

"And the range?" the Su Race delegate pressed further.

"Assuming the course holds steady, it'll hit the nearest approach in six cosmic days," announced the senior Hall Star officer who had stayed silent up to that point.

"Six days..." The group mulled over this duration.

"We have to decide now." The Reina Star woman struck her palms together. She remained uneasy with this collaborative approach.

Since when did Reina Star's folk need to seek input on their choices? They frequently brushed off even Huo’er Star's input.

However, things had shifted. The recent episode where Cosmic races united to corner them forced their supreme leader to see that the gradual, simmering handling of these groups had worked in the past, but rapid shifts triggered fierce pushback.

Right now, crushing or eliminating threats wasn't feasible.

"We've covered the scenario before. A Slave Race heads toward the Novice Star's location. Whether it's merely transiting or not, we can't risk assuming."

As the woman spoke these words, her manner turned utterly composed.

Indeed, nobody could afford to take that chance.

To date, despite the wheel's aid, the Cosmic races hadn't slain even one Slave Race directly. They merely drifted aimlessly across the stars like lost hounds.

They couldn't conquer the Slave Races in combat or escape their grasp, as the power for countless devices and survivor bastions derived from the Slave Races.

A Slave Race approached now. Though the Novice Star stood as a world already 'devastated' by Slave Races, thanks to Cosmic race contributions, during the planet's closing phase, abundant creatures lingered, including hordes of parasites.

Should this Slave Race take a sudden fancy and drop in for a bite, such an outcome wasn't impossible.

A single world's fate held no sway over the Cosmic races. Yet, currently, its parasites signified vast reserves of Moonspan Gold. Simply forsaking it would sting deeply.

Moreover, though the planet's novices didn't embody the Cosmic races' future, more than half the elite youth generation dwelled there. Losing them to entrapment would amplify the damage.

"Given all that, we pull out." The top Huo’er Star aide gestured openly with his hands. He pushed for total withdrawal. With no one willing to bet, depart swiftly, distancing far from that Slave Race for total security.

"But fleeing outright would cut the novice arena short. How then to tally the ultimate scores? Certain parties would protest fiercely. Plus, a complete retreat wastes every resource poured into the world. For us, that's a massive hit, rivaling the cost of a quarter small survivor fortress."

The woman denied it with a shake of her head. Total pullout carried losses too steep to bear.

"So what's the move?" queried the Su Race delegate. He tended to obey directives and struggled with original ideas.

"The newcomers' fourth mini-phase has just over a day remaining. We suggest sending in the warriors who've gathered ahead of schedule, finishing this phase, then finalizing standings, handing out prizes, and starting planetary cleanup right after. Prior to the Slave Race's arrival, extract whatever we can."

This approach truly stood as the optimal solution; objections fell flat.

Yet deep inside, all grasped plainly: who stood to profit most from this abrupt twist?

Obviously, the premier powerhouse races boasting the greatest collective force on the Novice Star.

Still, consensus formed since nothing superior existed.

"Agreed then!" At that instant, the woman's ethereal form rose, signaling the session's close.

"Hold on." The Taros Red Dwarves' chief, silent from the outset, abruptly halted the group.

"One issue... My envoy got ambushed en route by rivals. What's the resolution?"

……………………………………

She let out a pained grunt. With her unbroken arm pressing into the dirt, she intentionally ducked her head low. A sacred emblem on her back flared with intense glow, shattering the parasite coiled at her ankle.

Without restoring her mobility, she realized escape that day proved impossible.

Just one sacred mark adorned her back, reserved for dire need. In the Changxu Water Race, it bore the name 'Base Sigil,' the core of every sacred emblem, the origin of physical power. Its essence was primal force, not for casual deployment, lest it ravage the frame.

But now, such concerns faded from her mind.

The 'Base Sigil's' strike proved devastating. That nearby parasite met instant demise.

Her form achieved liberation, yet threats extended beyond parasites to foes as well. She spotted the arm-breaker grabbing his clubs once more, poised to strike anew.

Yet at that precise moment, a broadcast echoed from each novice's device.

"Urgent alert. Mutual Assistance Mode activated. Races with living novice reps must send three fighters into the arena to help gather scores. Ultimate standings combine the novice's scores with those of the support team. Mutual Assistance Mode endures one day, concluding the fourth mini-phase. Likewise, the novice arena shuts post-phase. Novices, grab every moment to rack up points."