The smoke in the void had not yet dissipated, and the golden behemoths had already returned with the last batch of spoils.
The broken core of the ship and the crystal condensed with the original energy were neatly stacked in front of Martin, and a faint light flickered in the command cabin.
Martin raised his hand and waved, and all the cores emitting rich energy fluctuations flew into his space ring, and his fingertips passed across the console.
The remaining energy material transformed into streams of light and poured into the shipboard system—the energy bar on the screen suddenly surged, emitting a buzzing prompt sound.
"Return home," he said succinctly, his eyes scanning the smoke and dust that was still slowly dissipating outside the porthole. "Return to the Gods' Plane to rest and recuperate."
The fleet changed course and the jump engine started again.
The jumps continued, and when the familiar plane barriers unfolded in front of him, the star port of the Gods' plane was already visible in the distance.
Soon, it docked with the starport, and maintenance robots swarmed out like a swarm of bees and began to inspect the cracks in the ship's hull.
The supply pipes in the ammunition depot hissed, transporting various types of artillery shells to the gun positions.
The beam of light from the energy station shot straight into the sky, injecting new power into the entire fleet.
Inside the command cabin, Martin watched the maintenance progress bar slowly climb up, tapping his fingertips on the star map.
The rest is only temporary, as the undercurrents outside the Matrix Era are waiting for him.
Martin stepped down from the flagship, his boots making a steady sound as they stepped on the metal floor of the starport.
Malcador, accompanied by a group of officials, was waiting nearby. Upon seeing him approach, he bowed and saluted. "Congratulations, Your Majesty, on your triumphant return."
The crowd behind him immediately echoed in unison, and the shouts of "Congratulations to Your Majesty on your triumphant return" echoed over the starport.
Martin simply nodded, raised his hand to signal everyone to excuse themselves, and turned his gaze to Malcador: "Follow me."
The two walked through the corridor and soon arrived at Martin's study. The door closed, isolating the noise from the outside world.
Martin sat down at the main seat, tapping his fingertips on the rosewood tabletop. He got straight to the point: "How's the investigation into the spy going?"
The joy on Malcador's face faded, his brow furrowed slightly, and he hesitated for a moment before speaking in a low voice: "Your Majesty, the situation is not optimistic."
He paused, his tone becoming more serious.
"Sixty percent of the non-believers we initially recruited were spies planted by Matrix Galaxy. We've secretly eliminated forty percent of them, but the rest..."
He looked up at Martin with concern in his eyes.
"If we conduct a large-scale cleanup, we might alert the enemy and even provoke them to revolt, which would be detrimental to our rule in the newly occupied areas. So for now, we have to take it slow, and the cleanup progress has been very slow."
The study fell into a brief silence, with only the sound of Martin's fingertips tapping on the table, regular and clear, as if he was measuring something.
His gaze fell on the distant training ground outside the window, where soldiers were marching in formation, the glare from their armor glaring. After a long pause, he spoke slowly, his voice unrecognizable as either emotion or anger.
“Slowness is not necessarily a bad thing sometimes.”
Martin's fingers paused on the table, his eyes sharp as a knife: "But now that I'm back, let's speed up."
He stood up and walked to the window, looking at the formation of dragon knights passing by in the sky.
"I will mobilize the dragon knights to assist you. Don't be afraid of their resistance. Just crush them."
Malcador bowed his head and replied, "Yes, Your Majesty."
Martin turned around and traced the spheres of influence of the gods on the map. "Malcador, how have the gods expanded recently?"
"Your Majesty, they are moving very quickly. Their territory has expanded to more than three times its original size and is currently under full surveillance."
Malcador handed over the encrypted information.
"Information from spies in various regions indicates they appear to be stockpiling resources and their movements are becoming more frequent."
Martin sneered and jabbed his fingertips firmly at the center of the map. "Keep monitoring. It's almost time to pick the peaches—when I return from the Matrix Galaxy, I'll just take action against them."
Outside the window, the dragon knight's roar pierced through the clouds, carrying with it an unquestionable pressure.
The air in the study seemed to be frozen by this hidden ambition, and a bigger storm was brewing.
Martin's return was like a huge rock thrown into a lake, causing ripples in the realm of gods.
An agreement was reached with the local dragon tribe to offer 500 dragon eggs every year, which not only demonstrated strength but also laid a solid foundation for the empire's war reserve.
The reappearance of the Behemoth clan was good news, but there was still no news of the birth of the Golden Behemoth, which was like a stone weighing on Martin's heart.
He stood in front of the star map, his fingertips running across the light spots representing a dozen small planes, and finally made a decision - to divide these areas among the loyal dragons and behemoths.
"Resources are tilted towards these planes,"
Martin's voice was transmitted to the ears of the tribal leaders through the communicator.
"The Dragon and Behemoth tribes are fully committed to their reproduction plans. I want to see a vast amount of dragon eggs and golden Behemoths within a hundred years."
The roar of the dragon leader echoed in the void, filled with submission and excitement.
The Behemoth leader responded with a deep voice, promising to awaken the tribe's bloodline to greater power in the new territory.
With the order of enfeoffment, more than a dozen small planes instantly became busy. The ancient reproduction ritual continued day and night.
The entire plane of the gods exudes a tense yet energetic atmosphere due to this series of actions.
At Martin's command, the dragon knight formation and the legion from the light column plane were like sharp swords drawn from their sheaths, setting off a thunderous cleansing in the plane of the gods.
The dragon's breath burned all the hidden strongholds, and the legion array strangled the stubborn hidden spies within three months.
Ninety percent of the matrix spies were eradicated, and the remaining ones who escaped the net were like frightened birds, unable to cause any more trouble.
In the throne room, Martin tapped his fingertips on the edge of the table as he looked at the ever-shrinking list in the intelligence.
Although there were still some spies that had not been eliminated, he had no intention of delaying - the fleet's energy core was humming with full power, the ammunition depot and personnel were basically repaired, and it was time to set off.
"The rest of the tail is up to you."
Martin looked at Malcador, his eyes sharp as an eagle. "After I leave, continue digging deeper and don't let anyone go."
Malcador bowed and accepted the command. "Rest assured, Your Majesty, I will fulfill this mission."
According to the intelligence about the Matrix Galaxy, the confrontation situation is clearly visible.
The Pig King and his wife from a distant country led their tribe on a rampage across the star field, causing war wherever they passed, and became a variable that disrupted the situation.
Martin turned and looked out the window at the fleet ready to set sail, a cold smile forming at the corner of his mouth.
"Matrix Galaxy... this time we'll completely break you down."
The roar of the jump engine shook the heavens and the earth, and the huge fleet tore through the space barrier and rushed towards the distant matrix galaxy.
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