The ranks of military units actually represented a technological gap between generations.
It was like the artillery of World War I: it could not shoot down the aircraft of World War II, let alone an intercontinental missile.
A Level 90, five-template boss should have been able to slaughter lower-tier units with ease.
After all, dealing with an existence like him required an interstellar fleet, Tier Three civilization structures, and planetary defense systems.
This was also the method low-level civilizations commonly used when dealing with Tier Three, or even Tier Four and Tier Five, powerhouses.
Simply piling up troops was actually a highly inefficient method, and mostly useless at that.
That was why the higher-ups of the Walter family had unanimously agreed to use a decapitation strategy. Ordinary interstellar forces simply could not possess as many Tier Three powerhouses as they did. Having one or two would already have been impressive.
As long as they could break into the "Interstellar Fortress," destroying it would be a highly successful operation.
At least, that was what Number 3 believed.
Even after losing more than a dozen family members at the start, and after the explosion had just caused most of the Walters to lose contact, he still believed that.
But now, he was beginning to doubt his own judgment.
Because the densely packed mechanical warriors before him, along with the even more imposing cyborgs, had somehow given him an instinctive sense of danger.
At this moment, Number 3 had shrunk to around three meters in height. After all, a huge body was more likely to attract attacks from every direction. Yet his aura had only grown stronger. "Biological Background Radiation" transformed into countless bright spots and streaks of light around him, like the illusions many people saw with their eyes closed. In the