Chapter 43

The war was no longer a series of isolated battles.

It had become a game of strategy.

The Kree Empire had learned from their failures. They had analyzed every engagement, dissected every loss, and prepared a response that would shake the battlefield.

Now, they were ready to strike.

Deep within the Kree's command warship, Admiral Torr stood before a war table, reviewing the fleet's final formations.

Every soldier, every starfighter, every warship—a calculated piece in a larger plan.

The Kree had never underestimated their enemy.

But now, they understood them.

"Our scouts confirm the enemy's presence in Sector V-09," a tactical officer reported, his voice sharp and precise. "The white-armored warriors are on the move again."

Torr's eyes flickered toward the holographic map displaying the battlefield. "And what of their leader?"

The officer hesitated. "...No direct sightings. The Anomaly remains hidden."

Torr's jaw tightened.

That was a problem.

The enemy forces were brutal, efficient, and relentless—but it was The Anomaly himself that turned the tide of war.

If the Kree wanted to win, they had to eliminate him first.

Torr's voice was cold. "Prepare the Hunter Fleet. We lure them in, then we strike."

A nearby commander nodded. "The Nova Legion is in position."

Torr exhaled. Everything was in place.

---

Lin Fan studied the data before him.

The Kree were finally making their move.

His fingers traced the battle map, his eyes scanning the formations. Something was different this time.

Before, the Kree had relied on brute force and overwhelming numbers. This was different.

Their fleet was positioned with purpose. Their movements weren't reckless—they were calculated.

"They're learning," Lin Fan muttered.

Beside him, an officer frowned. "That's… bad, right?"

Lin Fan didn't answer immediately. He had known this moment would come—the moment when his enemies stopped fearing him and started adapting.

His forces had relied on their superior adaptability in combat. But if the Kree had figured out a way to counter that…

He exhaled.

This would be a different kind of battle.

"Deploy the scouts," he ordered. "I want every detail on that fleet."

His officer hesitated. "And if it's a trap?"

Lin Fan smirked. "Then we walk in with our eyes open."

---

The Kree struck first.

A fleet of warships descended from hyperspace, their weapons unleashing a relentless barrage.

Lin Fan's forces countered immediately, their white-armored warriors tearing through enemy lines with inhuman precision.

But something was wrong.

For the first time, the Kree didn't break.

They didn't falter.

They fought with a level of coordination that hadn't been there before.

The white-armored warriors moved to adapt—but the Kree were already one step ahead.

Explosions erupted across the battlefield as the enemy executed a perfectly timed counteroffensive.

Lin Fan's forces had relied on their ability to evolve in combat—but now, that strength had become a weakness.

The Kree had learned the pattern. They were forcing constant adjustments, preventing any single adaptation from fully taking hold.

For the first time, the white-armored warriors were being pushed back.

And at the center of it all—Nova Legion arrived.

The elite warriors of the Kree Empire, led by Ronan the Accuser himself.

Aboard his warship, Ronan watched the battle unfold with an unreadable expression.

"The white-armored warriors fight well," he mused. "But let's see how well they defend against an enemy that refuses to be predictable."

He raised his hammer.

"Begin the next phase."

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