"Only rookies like you would romanticize war. As you grow older, you'll understand that it isn't a good thing."
"You'll see... comrades you've lived alongside for years fall in pools of blood. You'll be afraid, but more than that, you'll feel helpless."
"I've taken part in battles large and small. I've seen too much... too much..."
Jayce's voice was low as his eyes stared at the ceiling, as though he were recalling events from the past.
In war, even Viltrumites, the strongest race in the universe, could become dust among the stars.
"Tch, I don't care."
"If they die in war, it only means they weren't skilled enough. If they die, they die."
"As for fear? I've never been afraid from the day I was born until now. Helplessness? That's something only weaklings feel."
Clayton's words drew everyone's attention within the dormitory.
No one was surprised that Clayton would say such things.
Simply because—
During the time they had spent together, everyone had come to understand that Clayton was an extreme egoist.
He could even be called the venomous snake hidden among them.
Everyone did things that benefited themselves, but he was a genuine villain through and through.
Put it this way.
If one of them were seriously injured in the future—
Not only would Clayton refuse to help, he would stand by and watch the injured person die bit by bit.
All that could be said was that his character was exceptionally vile.
"Before you die, would you seek help from your comrades?" Jayce turned his head toward Clayton.
"Seek help?" Clayton snorted with laughter and said carelessly, "I'll never seek their help. I don't need help, either."
Sparta reopened his book, his gaze falling upon the words on the page.
"I hope you remember what you said."
Since Clayton had said that, Sparta would respect his wishes.
He thought he was powerful? He thought he would never need help in the future?
Whether Viltrumites or any other race in the universe, no one could have smooth sailing forever.
Sparta had never seen anyone so arrogant and conceited.
Clayton gave Sparta a hostile look, his tone carrying a trace of disdain.
"Did anyone ask you to butt in?"
"Since I've said it, I'll definitely do it. You don't need to keep stressing it."
"Of course... I won't help anyone else, but I'll definitely help you, diligent Sparta. I'm looking forward to the day you beg me for help."
Sparta was not affected in the slightest. He merely turned a page slowly and replied calmly.
"Unfortunately, that day will never come."
Clayton gritted his teeth, anger appearing on his face.
What he hated most was Sparta's calm, composed demeanor.
Before, a word or two of provocation could still stir his emotions. Now, he was like a block of metal that could not be shaken.
It was as if, in Sparta's eyes, his words and actions were merely annoying flies buzzing by his ear.
No... they did not even count as flies.
Sparta would at least swat a fly. Now, he could not even be bothered to retort.
"You think you're so great? Holding those stupid books all day and putting on airs!"
"One day, I'll become stronger than all of you! On Big Mouth Star, you defeated me just like that—one day, I'll defeat you the same way!"
Sparta glanced sideways at him without expression, his voice utterly devoid of emotion.
"Oh. Good luck."
Clayton froze instantly. Seconds later, his face flushed red with rage.
It felt several times worse than taking Sparta's Thunderous Haymaker on Big Mouth Star.
It was like having countless things bottled up inside him, with nowhere to vent them.
Jayce stepped in to stop the farce.
"Lights out. Go to sleep."
Sparta nodded lightly, placed the book in his hand beside his pillow, then lay on his side with his head resting on his arm and closed his eyes.
Clayton, meanwhile, wore a twisted expression as he lay flat on his bed. In anger, he yanked up his blanket and covered himself from head to toe.
Click.
The dormitory became pitch-black.
The next morning.
While most people remained unaware, a small conference room within the Imperial Palace was already full.
Emperor Algor sat firmly in a separate chair, his arms resting lightly on the armrests as his calm gaze swept across every general and strategist present.
At his side stood an expressionless man.
The man wore a fitted combat uniform. He had close-cropped black hair, a thick mustache beneath his nose, and a straight posture, with both hands clasped behind his back.
If Sparta had been present, he would surely have thought this man was Xun Bro reincarnated.
The two really did look remarkably alike, at least seventy or eighty percent similar.
Both sides of the conference table were already occupied by people wearing uniform gray-white combat suits.
The difference was that some of the combat suits had hoods, while others did not.
"Would this provoke dissatisfaction among other races? After all, there have been no shortage of petty forces that hate the Empire in recent years."
"Lieutenant General, they are nothing more than insects. Since when did the Empire need to consider the feelings of bugs? Please mind your position."
"Insects? How much trouble has the Anti-Vitrum Alliance caused us these past years? The reports make it perfectly clear. Do they count as insects?"
"I agree with the lieutenant general. Expanding our territory on a large scale will only leave Imperial warriors surrounded on all sides, while also strengthening the Anti-Viltrum Alliance. That would be detrimental to future development."
"I disagree. Expanding outward benefits the Empire. Our warriors have long been prepared to die for the Empire at any time. If the Anti-Viltrum Alliance wants to obstruct us, then we fight!"
"You're merely a civil official! You have no right to spout nonsense at a military meeting! This is a matter between military officials—what does it have to do with you?!"
"..."
The atmosphere in the conference room grew increasingly tense as everyone naturally split into two factions.
The pro-war faction believed that starting a war was beneficial. The resources of conquered planets could be used to support the Empire, aiding its current and future development.
The anti-war faction believed that starting a war was harmful. Once war began, the Anti-Viltrum Alliance would swiftly intervene to obstruct them.
At that time, Imperial warriors would not only have to face fierce military resistance from the planets themselves, but also endure constant harassment and sneak attacks from the Anti-Viltrum Alliance.
With enemies both before and behind them, Imperial warriors would suffer heavy casualties. It would take considerable time afterward to recover and replenish their ranks, which would hinder development.
"Ahem!"
Just as the argument between the two sides became increasingly heated, Emperor Algor gave a light cough, and the conference room instantly fell silent.
He watched the senior officials quiet down, lightly tapping his fingertips against the armrest as his gaze fell on the statue-like man standing beside him.
"Commander Thragg, what do you think?"
The man called Thragg nodded slightly, his expressionless voice cold.
"Starting a war to expand the Empire's territory is necessary—"
Before he could finish, an elderly official with a deeply wrinkled face slammed his hand onto the conference table with a bang.
Before you continue