"How is this possible? These heretics have grown to such an inconceivable extent? They can actually launch attacks on twelve worlds at once!"
Seth's deep-set gaze remained fixed on the enormous star map before him like a blade. A fierce chill instantly swept through his entire body, as though every nerve were trembling uncontrollably.
Attacking twelve worlds simultaneously required an astronomical number of warships. No ordinary force could possibly assemble such a fleet with ease.
This was enough to prove that the heretics commanded an immensely vast fleet, numbering at least several hundred vessels. Otherwise, they could never have possessed the strength to attack twelve worlds at once.
"I... I'm completely finished."
Seth's once-resolute figure now collapsed onto the cold floor like a lump of mud. Despair gradually spread across his face.
The Provence Sector, once the territory he had taken such pride in, now seemed so fragile and powerless, utterly incapable of resisting the heretics' invasion. As governor, he would bear the greatest responsibility—especially after watching these heretics grow step by step until they had reached such a terrifying scale.
Just then, hurried footsteps rang out. Another messenger rushed into the governor's residence in a panic and shouted:
"Governor! Governor! Posilia, Jesta, and eight other star systems have all sent requests for aid! They urgently need our rescue!"
At those words, Seth's heart jolted. His despair instantly turned into endless pain and helplessness.
"Pfft!" The next moment, he could no longer control his emotions. A mouthful of blood burst from his lips and splattered onto the floor, as if voicing the despair and helplessness buried deep within him.
"Governor! Governor, are you all right?!"
Seeing Seth spit blood, the two messengers were immediately horrified. They hurried to his side to support him, anxiously questioning him.
"I'm fine." Supported by