At the front were Jie Kui and another Star-Eye Clan bronze-masked warrior.
As warriors, maintaining vigilance was fundamental. But this was the base camp, and the room had been empty moments ago, so everyone was relaxed. With their business concluded and heading toward their quarters, no one expected an attack.
Even if they encountered others, yielding would have sufficedâyet their opponents struck without warning.
Jie Kui and the bronze-masked warrior reacted swiftly. The former's body blurred as he shifted backward, hands raised to deflect the force. The bronze-masked warrior met the attack head-on, his fist lashing out with a glint of cold steel between his fingers.
Behind them, Aslan watchedâthen shut her eyes in anguish.
She recognized the assailants instantly: the Nangmao Clan.
Among the spacefaring races, they were infamous as siege warriorsâthick-skinned, monstrously strong, surpassing even many parasitic lifeforms in raw power.
Compared to them, the Star-Eye Clan's bodies were as fragile as glass.
Thud! Thud!
Jie Kui and the bronze warrior were sent flying.
Their attackers barely budged.
Ye Zhongming had been walking a meter behind Jie Kui. Seeing the man hurtling toward him, he hesitated briefly before reaching out, tapping Jie Kuiâs shoulder while pivoting aside. His other hand gripped the warriorâs arm, guiding him in a smooth arc before releasing.
By the time Jie Kuiâs feet touched the ground, the momentum had been redirectedâthough he still staggered back several steps.
As top-tier fighters, everyone recognized Ye Zhongmingâs skill: absorbing the impact, then using a deft technique to prevent a crippling fall. Jie Kui shot him a grateful glance, though his flushed face betrayed lingering discomfort. His gaze toward the doorway now burned with undisguised killing intent.
The bronze-masked warrior fared worse. Behind him stood Shi Kangbo and Bu Lanuoâneither as charitable as Ye Zhongming. They sidestepped, letting the warrior sail past until a third-row comrade caught him. Both tumbled to the floor in a heap.
"Truly filthy trash."
The Nangmao giant whoâd traded blows with the bronze warrior examined his knucklesâwhere a small cut bledâand spat the words with dull contempt.
The bronze warrior clambered up, one arm dangling uselesslyâlikely brokenâhis hand grotesquely twisted. He, too, recognized their foes, but with no room to evade, heâd had no choice. The blade between his fingers was standard Star-Eye gear, dubbed Fingerbladesâtools of many assassinations.
"Warriors of the Nangmao Clan, youâ" Aslan stepped forward, attempting to defuse the conflict. Though the fault was clearly theirs, the Star-Eye Clan was weak, while the Nangmao ranked among the top hundred factions. Reason wouldnât prevail here.
Before she could finish, the wounded Nangmao fighter roared and charged againâthis time aiming a killing blow at the already-crippled bronze warrior. The punch carried even greater force, leaving no doubt of its lethal intent.
Rage flashed across every Star-Eye face.
This was too much. Theyâd been the aggressors, attacking without provocation, and now sought to murder a man with a shattered arm over a scratch?
Yet neither Aslan nor the bronze warriors resisted. The birdwoman darted to her injured comrade, yanking him backward while the others scattered from the impact zone.
Shi Kangbo and Bu Lanuo had already distanced themselves from the group, their expressions detached.
Only one figure remained unmoved.
Ye Zhongming.
Heâd merely tilted his stance slightly, his gaze locked on the assailantâs throat.
The bronze warriorâs face was masked, but his exposed eyes brimmed with despair.
Star-Eye members were ill-suited for frontal combatâespecially against melee specialists like the Nangmao. At full strength, he mightâve held out briefly, seeking an opening. But with a broken arm and grievous injuries in this cramped space, evasion was nearly impossible.
Even as Aslan pulled him back, he knewâthis punch would land.
Then, as he braced for a desperate counterattack, his enemy froze.
Silence gripped the room.
"Huh? Little trash?"
The Nangmao fighter kept his fist raised, his entire body coiled to strike, but his head turned toward Ye Zhongming.
"Donât make this trash kill you," Ye Zhongming retorted coldly.
The Cloud Peak King was pissed.
On Earth, harming a Cloud Peak member in his presence meant the annihilation of their entire faction. Here, though their roles were reversedâwith many Star-Eye members viewing him as the outsiderâthe principle stood. Shared interests now bound him and the clan: access to cosmic knowledge, resources, and Jikesuâs goodwill.
He wouldnât tolerate this slaughter.
Moreover, that "filthy trash" comment? A blanket insult, Ye Zhongming took personally.
Back in the Survivor Fortress, Earthâs gravity control had weakened. Here, it returnedâstronger than ever.
Now, the lethality focused on the Nangmaoâs throat.
For now, that was warning enough.
"Another defiant one? Then you die first."
The Nangmao didnât even shift his stanceâa shadowy afterimage split from his body, slashing toward Ye Zhongming.
At this proximity, the phantom struck instantlyâthen detonated, flooding the room with thick black mist.
"Trash who only know one trick," a voice sneered through the haze.