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In a brightly lit hall, stood the divine statue of a god that resembled a bear with the wings of an eagle. Carved from white marble like stone, the furious visage of the Rage Owl God threatened to engulf any onlooker in its wrath. Those who stood before it felt as if a storm was hurtling toward them, and the faint of heart could be shattered by its winds.

Primal High Priest Perbov sat steadily before the statue of the Primordial Rage Owl God.

He was receiving the baptism of the storm, while also hearkening to the fury of the divine spirit.

At that moment, a cleric wearing a gray hood silently appeared behind the High Priest.

Keeping his distance, he did not feel the wind, but he knew well the consequences of standing before the stormy effigy.

And the High Priest had been standing there for a long time.

The cleric’s eyes were filled with fear and devoutness as he reported in a low voice, “High Priest, our actions within Revival City have encountered some resistance. The governor who is not in the city has put too much pressure on the Alliance Government. They have increased their scrutiny of us substantially. Many supplies can no longer be transported openly using official channels, and our proselytizing among the outer city’s vagrant population has been forced underground.”

The High Priest turned around, his gaze deep, as if peering into the soul of the cleric. Though his lips did not move, his voice, like a gentle breeze, arose at the cleric’s ear, “The power of the storm is boundless, and we shall overcome all obstacles to fulfill our divine mission. Any hindrance will ultimately be destroyed by the storm, even if it is that governor.”

The cleric was wholeheartedly convinced, “You are right. The Howling Wind Divine Envoy sent a message earlier; the enemy has taken the bait. We should soon receive good news. Once the governor is dead, all of Revival City will be thrown into chaos! They cannot endure the fallout of the governor’s unnatural death. They will be too afraid of the starships above, and no one will have the capacity to care about what we are doing.”

The High Priest sighed, “Time flies, and humanity still wallows in ignorance, only the storm can lead them out of the darkness. Our mission is to spread God’s glory to every corner of the world.”

The cleric respectfully responded, “As you say, High Priest. We will spare no effort and not disappoint the expectations of the storm.”

The High Priest prayed in silence once more, then lamented, “May the storm guide our path, that we might be a beacon to those wandering in the dark. Go now, my child, and be blessed by the Lord.”

The cleric bowed reverently, then slipped away quietly, leaving the High Priest alone before the statue of the Rage Owl God.

…

Yan Fangxu was becoming acutely aware that something was amiss.

He led the newly formed 3rd Infantry Battalion, freshly equipped, on a cleansing mission through the alien woodland.

Four hours earlier, his troops had purified a monster nest.

They had slain dozens of the creatures lurking around the den, and the tasks that followed were no different from before. Although the size of this hatchery was larger than any they had encountered before, it still hadn’t exceeded their imagination.

After destroying the nest, they prepared to depart for the next location.

Then, the surrounding woodlands erupted with the sound of dense gunfire.

Yan Fangxu’s command style had always prioritized stability. Even though he had already destroyed many hatching nests before, upon encountering this one, he still didn’t relax his vigilance in the slightest. He didn’t miss a single perimeter alert that should have been set, and when it came to destroying the hatching nest, he also didn’t neglect to establish a temporary defensive position. In short, his approach highlighted methodical combat, leaving no flaws whatsoever.

He knew that old fellow Perbov had been grumbling behind his back about his slow efficiency, wishing to get the 2nd Battalion to do the job, allowing the newly formed 3rd Battalion to stay at home. But obviously, the Governor-General trusted him—a bona fide Imperial Captain—far more than the crash-trained Perbov.

And he didn’t let the Governor-General’s trust down. Since the operation began, the team he led had suffered very few casualties.

Especially today, his caution paid off.

The soldiers on perimeter alert discovered a very large group of monsters approaching. They opened fire first, delaying the monsters’ advance, and also bought time for Yan Fangxu here.

The alert soldiers fought as they retreated, and by the time they returned, Yan Fangxu had already directed his troops to construct a triangular defensive position. Each of the three infantry companies took a position, with parts extending outward to create angles, ensuring that their fire could provide mutual cover and support for one another.

To be able to achieve all this in the more than ten minutes bought by the perimeter alert soldiers was due in part to Yan Fangxu’s skilled command and prior preparation, with his troops strictly adhering to discipline, without any letup; on the other hand, it was also because the overall military proficiencies of the entire 3rd Battalion were fully up to the mark.

Even though they hadn’t been in a tough fight yet, the soldiers were visibly tense. But their morale remained high, and they carried out their orders meticulously, meeting the standard norms of the Imperial Star Realm Army.

Every time he saw this, Yan Fangxu couldn’t help but sigh in amazement.

Such troops weren’t too common even on the Quintet Starship. Most of the slave servant army or mechanized soldier servants didn’t reach this level. Only a few land battle regiments were capable; and as for the Land Assault Team he brought down, they were indeed more elite, but there were only about a thousand soldiers of this caliber on the entire starship.

The soldiers smoothly constructed the defensive position, which considerably eased Yan Fangxu’s tense mood from the sudden attack.

When those enemies appeared in front of them, the soldiers began to fire fiercely.

Under the crossfire, the monsters fell in swathes.

They quickly repelled the monster horde’s assault.

The disgusting, differently shaped pus monsters lay dead everywhere. The dark green pus that oozed from their bodies was exceptionally foul-smelling.

Disgusting as it was, the threat was indeed not much of one. Enemies that can only rely on biting, short-range pus spray corrosion, and can die from being shot, stood no chance under the barrage of firepower.

But before they could relax a little longer, the enemy’s second wave of attacks arrived.

It was still a large number of Pus Spewers, human-shaped, beast-shaped, and indescribable things covered in swellings, rushing out from the woods, screaming towards the position. And among this second wave of attack, there were some that possessed long-range attack capabilities.

Pus Spewers.

These monsters looked similar to the ordinary pus monsters, except they had a nozzle, either in the chest or on the top of the head. They would stop at a distance of around fifty meters, accumulate for a brief moment, and then spray out a large volume of yellow-green pus from the nozzle.

These monsters capable of spraying highly corrosive pus posed a significant threat to the position.