I started by watching videos, and I chose 10,000 combat power.

The captain finally shut his mouth.

The tightly pressed lips etched a deep groove into his dark gray skin.

His right hand slowly rose from the cold holographic projection table, his four fingers suddenly clenched into a fist, and the deep wrinkles on his gray-black skin were forcibly flattened by this brute force, exposing the tangled veins underneath.

His gaze was as sharp as a hawk's, fixed on the tiny figure floating in space not far outside the porthole.

Against the backdrop of the vast and boundless universe, that figure appeared so insignificant, yet it exuded a chilling aura.

The captain forced out a few words, his voice hoarse, which amplified through the bridge's loudspeaker system, each word sounding as if it were being forced out from between his teeth, carrying a chilling intent: "Secondary gun... lock onto him."

The mothership's AI-generated voice, devoid of any emotion, immediately responded: "Secondary guns have locked onto the target. Charging..."

The captain loosened his clenched fist, spread his fingers, and pressed them heavily on the holographic projection table. The cold surface of the table seemed unable to cool down the anxiety in his heart.

"All unmanned fighter jets, sortie! Leave no reserves! All! I'll say it again, all!"

His voice was much louder than before, with a hint of a near-explosive roar, but this anger was not directed at the adjutant, but at the artificial intelligence that could only mechanically execute orders.

On the side of the mothership, several hatches opened simultaneously, like a giant beast that had been lying dormant for a long time slowly opening its eyes.

These "eyes" are not the usual round shapes, but rather regular rectangles.

From these rectangular openings, one after another, strangely shaped aircraft flew out like a swarm of bees.

Their shapes are extremely bizarre, neither the common circle nor the triangle, and are difficult to describe using any known spacecraft shape on Earth.

It resembles an octopus flattened by an invisible giant hand, and also has a twisted feel like an umbrella with a broken skeleton.

The gray-black hull is covered with the same mysterious patterns as the mothership, with dark red light flowing slowly within the patterns, like blood surging in the veins of a living being.

They poured out from the hatches on both sides of the mothership, not in an orderly line one after another, but in swarms, densely packed, like wasps swarming out of their hive after a mischievous child disturbed it. There were so many that it was impossible to count them all; all that could be seen was a dark shadow rapidly expanding in space.

They nimbly adjusted their posture in the air, their dark red engine nozzles lit up, and then accelerated simultaneously, leaving trails of afterimages as they pounced towards Luo Fei.

Inside the bridge, the captain's eyes were fixed on the contrails of the fighter jets.

Looking out the porthole at the figure that remained suspended in place, motionless.

His lips twitched slightly, revealing a few sharp teeth. It was a kind of ruthlessness that was suppressed in his throat and was about to overflow, like a wild beast that had been driven to the brink of despair and bared its fangs.

His adjutant stood silently in the shadows, his expression hidden from view.

But his hand unconsciously clenched into a fist. Under the dim red light of the bridge, that fist looked like a piece of charred stone scorched by a raging fire, with its knuckles protruding high, veins bulging like earthworms, and fingernails digging deep into its palm, almost embedding themselves into the flesh.

He waited, his heart filled with a desire for victory and a greed for plunder.

Waiting for the swarming fighter jets to tear that arrogant carbon-based life form to shreds.

Waiting for that tiny spaceship hidden on the far side of the moon to be blasted into cosmic dust by the mothership's main guns.

We await the swift end of this lopsided battle.

They can now begin to reap the rewards of resources and life on that blue planet.

The distance between the fighter jets and Luo Fei was rapidly decreasing, and Luo Fei's figure became increasingly clear on their advanced sensor screens, with every detail magnified and locked in.

The weapon system began charging, and dark red energy beams converged and rotated at the launch port on the nose of the aircraft, growing brighter and brighter, like small suns about to explode, foreshadowing the coming of destruction.

They were about to open fire, and the shadow of death seemed to have already loomed over Luo Fei.

At this critical moment, Luo Fei extended his right hand, palm up, fingers slightly spread.

Without any warning, an ancient-looking knife appeared out of thin air in his hand.

The blade is dark gray, over a meter long, with a thick and heavy back, yet the edge is so sharp it seems capable of slicing through space. There are no ornate patterns or mysterious inscriptions on the blade.

It's a meteorite iron sword.

The moment he gripped the hilt, his energy began to flow continuously from his palm into the blade, and the dark gray surface of the blade instantly glowed with a dark red light.

The light seemed to come alive, spreading rapidly from the hilt to the tip and then across the entire blade. Then, orange-red flames suddenly ignited on the blade, burning brightly in the cold, desolate space, appearing exceptionally dazzling.

On the live broadcast from Blue Star, countless people watching the broadcast nervously saw a solitary figure floating in space in the center of the screen. He held a long sword burning with raging blue flames in his hand and calmly faced hundreds of unmanned fighter jets rushing towards him.

The scene was visually striking, evoking both despair and a tragic sense of desperate gamble.

Inside the bridge, the captain's pupils contracted sharply again, his eyes filled with disbelief and shock.

What shocked him wasn't the fighter jets surging towards Luo Fei like a tidal wave, but the flaming blade in Luo Fei's hand. His gaze was fixed on the orange-red light emanating from the blade, the power contained within that light sending a strange shiver down his spine.

His lips twitched involuntarily, and a low, guttural sound, like a sigh or a murmur of praise, escaped his throat.

The first word that flashed through his mind was not "dangerous" or "impossible," but an extremely inappropriate word—"f***ing cool."

This absurd thought only lingered in his mind for a fraction of a second before he forcibly dispelled it, but it had indeed truly occurred to him.

Just then, another beam of light suddenly appeared on one side of the mothership.

It did not come from the direction of the fighter jet group, but from the moon, from the location of the Wannian Falcon.

A dazzling beam of light, like lightning piercing the darkness, suddenly shot out from the shadows on the far side of the moon, moving at a speed beyond the limits of human vision.

It accurately struck the fighter jet at the forefront. The gray-black aircraft was as fragile as paper, pierced directly by the beam of light, its fuselage splitting in two before exploding violently.

The scorching debris scattered in all directions, and half of the debris spun and collided with another fighter jet next to it. The two aircraft then turned into a larger cloud of debris.

Immediately afterwards, a second, a third... beam of silvery-white light shot out from the direction of the moon.

All the laser cannons on the Eternal Falcon were like scalpels given life, slicing deadly beams of light in the dark space.

With each stroke, a fighter jet was precisely sliced ​​in two and then exploded.

They did not attack one by one, but fired multiple cannons at once. The muzzles of all the laser cannons were rotating at high speed, like the most precise instruments. Every shot hit a target accurately, without missing or repeating.

The massive fighter jet formation fell in swathes like wheat fields crushed by a sharp harvester. Explosions lit up space, creating a dazzling yet deadly spectacle, with shattered debris scattered across the cold cosmos.

After destroying all the unmanned fighter jets, the silver-white streamlined hull of the Eternal Falcon emerged from the shadows on the far side of the moon and came to a steady stop behind Luo Fei.

It was much smaller than the alien mothership, so small that it looked like a tiny destroyer next to a huge aircraft carrier, appearing disproportionately small.

Inside the alien mothership, the emotionless voice of the artificial intelligence rang out once more, shattering the deathly silence on the bridge: "Warning! Our signal has been locked onto by the enemy ship. Analysis shows that conventional maneuvering will not break the lock."

The captain's fist clenched involuntarily again, his knuckles making a slight "crackling" sound from the force.

But this time, he did not order a counterattack as he had done before.

Just then, Luo Fei made a move.

His body began to move slowly forward, not fast, his movements as light as a fish swimming in water.

His body began to emit a soft white light, which was the energy within him being released outwards.

On the live stream from Blue Star, everyone watching held their breath. They saw a humanoid object enveloped in dazzling white light, flying unstoppably toward the massive alien mothership that blotted out the sky.

In the comments section, someone typed, trembling, "Is he...is he going to just run right into it?"

No one replied, because everyone was captivated by the stunning scene, staring intently at the screen, their hearts filled with tension and doubt, all wanting to know the answer to this question.

The next second, something astonishing happened.

Luo Fei passed directly through the mothership's light blue energy shield.

It didn't force its way through, nor did it explode violently; rather, it passed right through as if strolling through a garden, like passing through a thin curtain of water, a layer of misty fog, or a phantom that didn't even exist.

The mothership's sturdy energy barrier, strong enough to withstand the simultaneous attack of dozens of particle cannons, was nothing more than an insignificant background light in front of him, failing to even cause a ripple.

Luo Fei stood steadily outside the porthole of the mothership's bridge.

Through the transparent porthole, made of some kind of super-strong material, he stared at the captain in the bridge.

The captain's dark red vertical pupils shrank to almost invisible slits in extreme shock, and his mouth opened uncontrollably, exposing two rows of dark yellow fangs, making him look particularly ferocious.

At this moment, the captain's last straw was this seemingly fragile "glass" in front of him.

But he knew very well that it was not ordinary glass, but part of the outer shell of the spaceship, the outermost armor of the mothership, a super-strong material that could withstand high-speed meteorite impacts, withstand close-range direct fire from laser cannons, and travel light-years through the perilous asteroid belt without being worn through.

His eyes were fixed on Luo Fei's hand, on the meteorite iron sword that was still burning with raging flames. His lips moved silently, but no sound came out.

But that mouth shape, in the language of the Karda civilization, is a word filled with fear and despair—"No!"