General Grayfall aboard the Scarlet Throne had seen the same thing. However, he was still dazed from his grave injuries and hadn't even had time to check the damage to the ship after it took a torpedo hit.
In a daze, he lifted his head and looked beyond the bridge's viewport.
There sat a figure astride a titanium dragon, clad in a heraldic mech.
A Starrealm Knight! The nightmare of every marauder.
That was right. To the marauders of the Silverheart, the beings they feared most weren't the colossal Titans that ranged across the stars. No, it was the Starrealm Knights, clad in alchemical armor and wielding atomic lances, who commanded godlike powers through their "mortal bodies." Against the vastness of the stars, they seemed tiny as dust, even riding star dragons in full battle armor. Yet when those "specks of dust" descended upon a starship, just a few dozen—or even a handful—could slaughter their way through the entire vessel.
Thousands upon thousands of fearless warriors were nothing before them but a flock of sheep waiting to be trampled by lions... no, by dragons.
It was easy enough to understand. If the gap in military technology between the marauders and the Empire was a mountain, then the gap in supernatural power was a chasm of despair.
Of course, the same standard applied to every galactic nation except the Alliance. It could even be applied to humans and every nonhuman species.
More importantly, the Starrealm Knights—especially those born into human nobility—held on to a modicum of knightly decorum when facing the armies of member states of the Galactic Civilization Council. But when dealing with marauders, they were happy to show them how their ancestors had conquered half the universe through terror.
After all, marauders weren't people. They'd never been entitled to