Just as Shane was deep in thought, a swift figure shot out of the boundless darkness of deep space.
Its target was clear: it headed straight for the transport ship's energy reserves. A single high-speed collision triggered a massive explosion aboard the transport ship Shane was on.
The other fourteen young Viltrumite Warriors whom Shane had not bothered to kill, still asleep in their cryo chambers, died in that explosion without ever realizing it.
Watching the transport ship erupt into a blazing fireball in the silent vacuum, the figure stopped flying and curled his lips into a smile.
"Thragg's tribal mark. That clears out another batch of Thragg's men."
He floated silently in the vacuum for a while, but the smile gradually vanished from his face. Something felt strange.
That explosion might have wiped out those newly grown little brats, but the accompanying Instructor should not have died in an explosion of that magnitude.
"From the moment they complete the Coming-of-Age Assessment, even the youngest Viltrumites are considered active tribal forces, included among the targets other tribes may attack in war."
"Did the Instructor climb into a cryo chamber too? Not even guarding against an ambush, no vigilance at all—does Thragg really have such trash under him?"
Finding no sign of survivors, the man turned and prepared to return to the Spaceship he had hidden on a nearby asteroid.
His mission was urgent. An insider had supplied his tribe with the assessment targets and travel routes of several recent batches of Thragg's Viltrumite Warrior reserves who were about to complete their Coming-of-Age Assessments.
All he needed to do was lie in wait along the various unavoidable routes. Once those young Viltrumites finished their assessments and began their return journey, he could easily kill off Thragg's tribe's fresh blood.
Even if