The T4 Starlight Emperor-class Medium Carrier Starship · the bridge.
Qin Hu, on the verge of breaking down, looked at the electronic screen before him — the information-data representing the 20,000 interstellar warships he led.
At this moment, of the 20,000 interstellar warships upon it, fully half had already turned gray.
They had been reduced to so much wreckage and refuse in this stretch of the star-firmament.
And the remaining 10,000 interstellar warships were, one and all, flashing with red light — which meant their hulls were under attack.
Everywhere Qin Hu's gaze fell, very nearly every second he could see one more interstellar-warship icon turn gray.
In despair, he sank down into the captain's chair.
"Your Highness, in this present situation… the enemy fleet's numbers have outstripped the intelligence we possessed. And so I counsel… that we break out and withdraw at once! Come what may, your life-safety is the most important thing." An adjutant looked at the Third Prince.
Qin Hu covered his eyes; his very arms trembled without cease.
His feelings at this moment were most complex.
Fury?
Bitter unwillingness?
Shame?
Doubt?…
Every manner of emotion filled his mind, leaving him feeling that all of this before him was for all the world like a dream.
For a few seconds, he truly fancied that all of it was merely his own dreaming — that none of it was real.
But the news, coming to his ears without cease, of friendly ship after friendly ship destroyed, made him understand:
it was all real!
All of this was fact.
That accursed Zhao Chen was, of all things, master of 3,000 T3-grade interstellar warships.
This bastard!
This shameless creature!
He'd hidden his strength — had he not hidden his strength, then Qin Hu would never have taken a loss here, would never have faced such a plight.
This base, shameless bastard!
"Break out! Break out at once!" Qin Hu, seated in the captain's chair, ground his teeth; in his mind he'd already fixed on a plan of revenge.
It was no matter that he'd failed this time.
Once he'd gone back, he'd ask his brother for more interstellar warships.
If 20,000 weren't enough, then 50,000!
If 50,000 weren't enough, then 100,000!
He, Qin Hu, would, without fail, level the whole Owl Dragon Star System flat; he'd bombard that planet from the Owl Dragon main star's near-orbit, and blast that planet of the Zhao clan's into a stretch of ruins.
Qin Hu's two eyes were bloodshot; at this moment there was already something of madness in his heart.
The adjutant beside him, seeing this, knew in his heart that the Third Prince Qin Hu was now somewhat possessed.
He who had originally been a favored son of Heaven, falling one time after another at the hands of this fellow Zhao Chen — it had already made Zhao Chen no longer merely a demon in the Third Prince's heart, but very nearly a nightmare of an existence.
If Zhao Chen were not cut down by his own hand, then in all likelihood, before very long, the Third Prince's temper would change utterly, his emotions slipping his control.
The adjutant heaved a long sigh, and looked at the interstellar battlefield before him.
Not only the Third Prince — even these senior officers of theirs had never imagined that this interstellar campaign would, of all things, develop into such a state.
The strength the Owl Dragon Legion had shown forth had dealt everyone a slap in the face.
And the sound of that slap was heard, clear and plain, throughout the whole Starlight Empire.
The adjutant began to organize the breakout.
Time passed, bit by bit.
The Third Prince fleet's numbers, too, plunged from the 20,000 of the start down to 10,000, and then to 5,000.
And as the T3 Triceratops-class Interstellar Heavy Assault Frigates' encircling ring shrank, 5,000 gradually became 3,000… 2,000… 1,000…
In the end, the Third Prince fleet's several plans to break out all miscarried.
Each time they tried to break out, the T3 Blizzard-class Light Interstellar Battlecruisers and T3 Wind-Eagle-class Medium Interstellar Cruisers would come rushing to the field, and intercept the Third Prince fleet's attempt outright.
As the interstellar-warship numbers fell, the possibility of breaking out grew smaller and smaller.
The more so since the Owl Dragon Legion still held a sharp weapon in hand — the T3-grade interstellar missile ships!
More than two hours' time had passed since that last round of interstellar-missile attack.
However slow it might be, this work of resupplying the interstellar missiles ought, by now, to have been completed.
And so, the officers of the Third Prince fleet knew full well in their hearts that they now had no hope whatever of breaking out and escaping.
Perhaps… they had only one choice.
The flagship's adjutant walked once more before the captain's chair; he looked at the Third Prince, ashen as death, still steeped in the defeat of this campaign.
The adjutant knew that to disturb the Third Prince at a time like this was a very poor choice.
But for the sake of these remaining thousand interstellar warships, he had no other choice.
"Your Highness," the adjutant called softly.
Qin Hu, in a daze, lifted his head and looked toward his own adjutant.
The adjutant bowed his head, and said, "Your Highness, the enemy's encircling ring is exceedingly solid; our several breakouts have all failed. We now have under 1,000 interstellar warships left — including two T4 Starlight Emperor-class Medium Carrier Starships and one T4 Boreas-class Heavy Interstellar Battleship, along with 100 T3-grade interstellar warships and under 1,000 T2-grade interstellar warships. And the condition of these interstellar warships is not cause for optimism either. Should we go on fighting, then in under an hour, we'll be wholly annihilated by the Owl Dragon Legion."
The adjutant paused here a moment, and looked toward Qin Hu, a complex light in his eyes.
"In consideration of your life-safety, Your Highness, we hold that the one and only choice now… is to surrender. However bold that Zhao Chen may be, he'll not dare, after your surrender, launch a fresh attack upon your flagship. And thereafter, so long as the Prince Faction brings pressure to bear, you may be restored to freedom."
"You… you'd have me surrender! Surrender to that Zhao Chen!" Qin Hu, with the very expression of one who'd eaten filth, looked at his own adjutant.
The adjutant knelt straight down on one knee.
"Your subordinate knows that such an act is deeply humiliating — that it brings shame upon you. But I beg Your Highness to consider the greater situation. For us, these thousand interstellar warships included, to be destroyed and fall is a small matter. None of us can compare to your life! And so — surrender for now, for the moment, and ensure your safety. As the common saying has it well: keep the green hills, and you'll never want for firewood! Once Your Highness is restored to freedom and has reorganized the fleet, then, personally leading 50,000, 100,000 interstellar warships, come again with your army to the Owl Dragon Star System's gates — you may then wash away this former shame! The founding monarch of the Starlight Empire once spoke a line to this effect: no matter how many battles you lose, none of it matters — so long as you can seize the victory of the very last battle, then you are the final victor!"
Qin Hu listened to his adjutant's words; he drew a deep breath, both hands clenched into fists in a death-grip, his fingertips already sunk into his palms, blood flowing out.
"…Fine… surrender… to the Owl Dragon Legion."
In the end, Qin Hu handed down this order to surrender.
A gladness rose in the adjutant's heart, but not a trace of it showed upon his face.
He at once went to have the comm crew issue the surrender announcement to the Owl Dragon Legion, and at the same time relayed the order for all interstellar warships of the Third Prince fleet to cease their attacks, and to make ready to shut off their ship engines at any moment.
Surrender?
He'd never imagined he'd see a day of surrendering to the very fellow who'd snatched away his own betrothed.
Qin Hu sat in the captain's chair, his soul-lost look for all the world like that of a homeless cur.
But very soon, a pair of military boots appeared before him once more.
Qin Hu lifted his head and looked toward his adjutant, whose expression was complex.
"That bastard Zhao Chen — has he accepted our surrender?"
The adjutant hesitated a good while before he said, slowly, "The Owl Dragon Legion's commander Zhao Chen has replied by comm that… if you want to surrender… then he'll have you tell him yourself, in person…"
Qin Hu's whole face flushed crimson, the veins standing straight out on his neck; he felt a surge of blood rushing to his very head.
"Your Highness, I beg you — consider your life!" The adjutant knelt again on one knee.
"Get me… Zhao Chen's comm!" Qin Hu ground out these few words through his teeth, for all the world as though he'd spent the whole courage of his life to do it.