Before this, the largest-scale single interstellar-missile launch the Owl Dragon Legion had ever made had used only five T3 Judicator-class Heavy Interstellar Missile Ships.
And now it was 30!
A full six times as many as before!
What did this mean?
"You lot… just how many interstellar missiles did you launch…" Xue Xiaoxiao, upon the T4 Vermilion Bird's bridge, watched the interstellar missiles screaming toward the Third Prince's fleet upon the interstellar holo-table, for all the world like a meteor shower — the terrifying density of them.
It left her feeling for all the world as though she'd come down with a case of trypophobia.
"How much money must this be burning through…" Su Lan, too, marveled.
Zhao Chen laid a finger on his chin, and said, light and offhand, "The T3 Judicator-class Heavy Interstellar Missile Ship is fitted, per single ship, with 25,000 interstellar missiles of various models — a total interstellar-missile value of 200 million star coins. And now, there are 750,000 interstellar missiles 'in flight' across this stretch of the star-firmament. Which is to say, an amount of wealth equivalent to 6 billion star coins is, at this very moment, streaking past before your eyes."
"S-s-six… six… six… six… 6 billion star coins!" Xue Xiaoxiao turned, all at once, into a stammerer.
She knew that interstellar missile ships burned money — that was knowledge to be had straight out of the books.
But when she truly witnessed all of this, and heard that figure, only then did she realize she'd vastly underestimated the speed of that money-burning.
"You mean to say… just now… you flung out 6 billion star coins!" Xue Xiaoxiao gulped, and looked at Zhao Chen in disbelief.
Zhao Chen gave a shrug, and pointed at the holographic projection.
"You can still admire this '6 billion' a while longer — otherwise, very soon, it'll be turning into gorgeous fireworks."
Xue Xiaoxiao fixed her eyes tight on the battlefield image of the holographic projection; the interstellar missiles launched earliest had, by now, entered the firepower range of the Third Prince's fleet.
The Third Prince's fleet was, after all, built to the standard of the second-line imperial army; it was not like that pack of small-fry in the Reef Star Region, and was, besides, a good deal more elite than that mob of Warhammer brutes.
On detecting the interstellar missiles in transit, it had handed down the order to form an air-defense position, and to muster, as far as possible, every starship weapon to intercept these interstellar missiles.
But wanting to intercept was one thing, and whether it could truly intercept them was another matter entirely.
For, after all… these were a full 750,000 interstellar missiles, and T3-grade interstellar missiles besides.
"Intercept! Intercept! Intercept them for me with all our strength!" Qin Hu roared aboard his own flagship, beads of sweat already spread across his forehead; and at the same time he ordered his adjutant, "Call for aid! Request support from the outside at once!"
The battle had only just begun, and Qin Hu was already thinking of calling for aid.
The adjutant gulped, and, without the least hesitation, sent out the request for aid to the outside.
And it was not only Qin Hu; at this very moment, the officers and captains upon the bridges of every interstellar warship within the Third Prince's fleet were, one and all, steeped in terror.
3,000 T3-grade interstellar warships!
They dared not believe their own eyes — but the enemy-ship energy fluctuations detected upon the starship radar did not lie.
The Owl Dragon Legion did, indeed and in truth, have 3,000 T3-grade interstellar warships!
But terror was of no use now; the crux was how to intercept this wave of the interstellar-missile attack.
Aboard the interstellar-media warships in the distance, very nearly every last person, at this moment, had their eyes gone wide and their mouths fallen open, and not one of them spoke.
For they had, one and all, been left dumbstruck by this scene before them.
Seen from afar, it was a densely teeming meteor shower coming down toward the Third Prince's fleet.
By this time the Third Prince's fleet had begun to open fire in interception; some of the interstellar missiles intercepted exploded straight away midway, the flame-flowers born of the blasts vanishing as swiftly as they came.
But very soon, there were interstellar missiles that broke through the interception firepower net, coming down, one after another, upon those interstellar warships!
That scene… was for all the world like tossing a single match into a stretch of dry-timbered grassland — the grassland, little by little, beginning to be engulfed.
Exploding fireballs, smoke, and dust began to sweep across the whole of the Third Prince's fleet.
In the span of a few short minutes, the range of the interstellar-missile firepower strike had already covered half the area of the Third Prince's fleet.
And there was, besides, no sign of any momentum toward stopping.
It was chiefly that there was nothing to be done — these interstellar missiles were truly too many, astonishing beyond measure in their number!
"The whole Starlight Empire will, this day, come to a boil over this one interstellar campaign!" An old interstellar-media veteran lit himself a cigarette upon the bridge, and blew out a deep ring of smoke.
He was a battlefield correspondent, who'd filmed no small number of battlefield scenes.
In earlier years he'd even gone in person to the Chu River Star Region's front against the Mechanical Race, and filmed the scenes of great pitched battles of upward of 100,000 interstellar warships.
But… those battlefield scenes he'd filmed, none of them was so soul-shaking as this present moment.
By virtue of these interstellar media's capabilities, this scene was broadcast to every quarter of the Starlight Empire — only, on account of near and far, with some delay.
The Chu family.
"This… this… these interstellar missiles… if these are all T3-grade interstellar missiles… then how much money must this one round be throwing out? Miss… this future husband of yours… is a bit of a spendthrift." The female adjutant, watching this gorgeous scene, gulped.
Chu Xuan watched all of it with her eyes ablaze, so that she had, even, no leisure to spare for the adjutant's teasing of her.
She knew Zhao Chen was strong; she knew Zhao Chen had a habit of using interstellar missile ships.
But these were T3-grade interstellar missile ships — and this number was, beyond all doubt, of a scale to be a small fleet in itself!
Every single time, you give me a surprise beyond imagining. Chu Xuan marveled inwardly, in secret.
The Imperial Capital Star.
From the very moment of the scene in which they'd discovered fresh Owl Dragon Legion fleets joining the battlefield, Consort Zhen, Qin Ming, Marshal Huang Zhixiong, and the rest had sensed that something was amiss.
And upon seeing that densely teeming, meteor-shower-like interstellar-missile firepower bombardment, they'd realized that this situation… seemed to have wholly outstripped their original expectations.
"What is the meaning of this! Didn't you say the Owl Dragon Legion wasn't strong! Where did they get so many T3-grade interstellar missile ships!" Qin Ming, eyes glaring round, demanded of Huang Zhixiong.
For, before this campaign, Huang Zhixiong had been charged with looking into and scouting out the strength of the Owl Dragon Legion in the Owl Dragon Star System.
In the intelligence obtained, it was described merely that the Owl Dragon Legion had a degree of strength, and was fitted with a portion of T3-grade interstellar warships.
But that number did not exceed 300!
And the total fleet number did not exceed 500!
Yet now?
The other side's T3-grade interstellar warship count alone surpassed 3,000.
So much so that not even the shadow of a T2-grade interstellar warship was to be seen.
And they possessed, besides, an astonishing number of T3 interstellar missile ships.
"I… I don't know either…" Huang Zhixiong was somewhat guilty of conscience; the Owl Dragon Legion intelligence he'd gathered before was, in fact, the military capability the Owl Dragon Legion had displayed last year when facing the hive-race disaster in the North Wind Star Region.
He'd then done a bit of enhancing on top of it.
For, after all — think of it: a lord in the ordinary way, in a stretch of half a year and more, to what degree could he expand his own interstellar fleet?
But now!
Who could have thought that, in the space of a mere half year and more, the Owl Dragon Legion would go from an interstellar fleet of originally under 500 ships to the monster it was now — a full 3,000 T3-grade interstellar warships strong!
"Ming'er! Quick! Quick, send reinforcements to save your younger brother!" Consort Zhen looked at her son, weeping.
Though she understood nothing of military matters, she too had sensed the wrongness of the present situation.
Qin Ming was silent; he watched the broadcast feed, and he knew that, do what he might now, it was already too late.
Even were he to order the several lord-forces nearest by — the ones planted within the North Wind Star Region — to dispatch fleets in support at any cost whatever, it would still need half a day and more.
Could his younger brother hold out for half a day and more?
Qin Ming dared not speak that answer aloud.
He could only, gritting his teeth, hand down another order.
"Order all interstellar-media personnel at once — they are not permitted to broadcast this interstellar battle. Cut off every broadcast signal! Now! This instant! Go and do it!"