Are You Sure?

The legend of the Viltrumites made the word 'run' flash through the minds of every soldier.

Yet their duty as soldiers forced them to hold their ground.

If even the soldiers fled, then who would protect the emperor and ministers within the palace?

Sparta watched these alien soldiers with interest.

They were entirely brown-skinned, each hand possessed only four fingers, and most notably, their massive mouthparts occupied nearly half of their faces.

So ugly, this grotesque appearance fit his internal visualization of aliens.

"Drop your weapons! I order you to drop your weapons!"

The Big-Mouth Emperor walked out supported on both sides, followed by a crowd of ministers.

The first thing the other party did upon arriving outside the palace was to angrily scold those soldiers who had their weapons trained on them.

The soldiers looked left and right, not daring to disobey the order, and dropped their weapons one after another.

Seeing everyone put down their weapons, the Big-Mouth Emperor respectfully looked at Jayce standing at the very front of the formation.

"Respected Viltrumite powerhouse, the soldiers meant no offense, please pay it no mind."

"I wonder what the purpose of this visit is..."

Jayce looked at the groveling emperor below and said coldly, "Naturally, it is to invite the Big-Mouth Kingdom to join the Viltrumite Empire."

The Big-Mouth Emperor froze on the spot, cold sweat streaming down his temples.

Join the Viltrumite Empire? It sounded nice, but put bluntly, wasn't it just treating Big Mouth Star as a colony?

Though extremely reluctant, if he refused, the consequences would be even worse.

Even so, he still wanted to try and negotiate further.

"Would it... be possible for me to refuse?"

The ministers all looked at the emperor with incredulous gazes.

Refuse? Did a small, weak nation like theirs even have the right to refuse?

What shocked them even more was that Jayce's expression remained unchanged as he actually agreed.

"Refuse? Of course you have that right."

"I will report this truthfully, and as for what happens next... good luck."

Jayce gave the Big-Mouth Emperor a deep look.

The Big-Mouth Emperor felt a chill run down his spine from that look, yet he still forced out a stiff smile, putting on a brave face as he said, "V... very much appreciated."

Jayce did not reply, instead turning his head to speak to Sparta and the others, "Let's move."

He accelerated fiercely, vanishing into midair in an instant, leaving behind only a powerful gale at his original position that billowed outward.

Countless Big-Mouthians were knocked to the ground by this gale, and the Big-Mouth Emperor staggered two steps back, losing his footing and sitting down on the ground.

Sparta followed after them; compared to the rest, his approach was relatively gentle.

Supported by his ministers, the Big-Mouth Emperor rose from the ground.

He watched the direction in which Sparta and the others had departed, feeling increasingly uneasy in his heart.

Meanwhile, the reproaches of the ministers beside him made his unease even more intense.

"Your Majesty! How foolish!"

"Your Majesty, Viltrumites are naturally cruel, they will certainly not spare us!"

"Fatuous ruler, fatuous ruler! What are we to do?!"

"Big Mouth Star is doomed!"

"If we actively surrender now, is it still any use?"

"..."

Listening to the voices ringing in his ears, the Big-Mouth Emperor opened his mouth and said nothing.

The Viltrumites were terrifying indeed, but the words of the ministers felt like sharp thorns, continuously piercing his heart and leaving him utterly chilled.

Clearly the Viltrumites were the invaders, yet these ministers lacked even the courage to resist.

The Big-Mouth Emperor walked into the palace in silence, showing not the slightest intention of paying attention to these cowardly ministers.

Elsewhere, Jayce led Sparta and the others to land on the summit of a tall mountain.

He fiddled with his wristband, truthfully reporting the current situation of Big Mouth Star to his superiors.

"Everyone wait in place, higher-ups will issue further instructions shortly."

The wind whipped against Sparta's face, blowing his short hair into a mess.

He naturally understood the outcome for Big Mouth Star, which boiled down to two choices.

One was destruction, and the other was surrender.

There was also a third choice, where the superior's benevolent personality took over their brain and they let Big Mouth Star off.

Yet that probability was even smaller than the chance of Sparta becoming the Emperor of Viltrum tomorrow.

"What? Our hardworking Sparta seems to have something on his mind."

Hearing Clayton's voice, Sparta withdrew his gaze from the capital of Big Mouth Star, his face cold as he swept a sideways glance at Clayton.

"Shut up, none of your business."

Clayton's lips curved into a sneer, a mocking laugh, "I'm just caring about you, after all we are comrades-in-arms."

Sparta did not reply; the conflict between the two of them had been going on for more than a day or two.

Ever since entering the Recruit Company, Clayton had never given Sparta a pleasant expression, and of course Sparta was the same way.

The two sides looked down on each other.

Yet Sparta's silence made Clayton even angrier for a moment.

He placed his right hand on Sparta's shoulder and spoke irritably, "I said you—"

Sparta spun around abruptly, striking Clayton in the face with an elbow.

Clayton was sent flying a hundred meters away, using his flight ability to hover in midair with fresh blood flowing from the corner of his mouth.

He wiped away the blood from the corner of his mouth with his hand, then spat a mouthful, clearing out the residual blood left inside his mouth.

Clayton stared dead at Sparta standing atop the mountain peak, fury burning in his heart.

"Do not touch me with your hand."

Sparta showed no fear, lifting his head to lock eyes with Clayton, who looked as though he might fly into a rage at any second.

Eye contact in the biological world represented a challenge and a signal for combat.

"You're courting death!"

Clayton let out a roar, raising his fists as he charged toward Sparta from the air.

Sparta lifted his left hand to catch the opponent's fist, using his right hand to deliver a slap across Clayton's other cheek.

The fiercely aggressive Clayton was batted right back to his original position.

From this scene alone, the disparity in strength between the two was evident.

Everyone cast sideways glances, including Jayce.

However, since he was reporting to his superiors, he had no time to spare for the events unfolding between Sparta and Clayton.

"I said, do not touch me with your hand."

Sparta's face was cold, yet his speaking voice contained no anger whatsoever, because it wasn't worth getting worked up over.

Yet in Clayton's eyes, this was nothing short of blatant contempt.

"I'll kill you! I'll definitely kill you!!"

Clayton's eyes turned bloodred, teeth grinding in hatred.

Watching Clayton, who was on the verge of losing his sanity, Sparta's expression remained unchanged.

He merely clenched both fists, shifted his body slightly sideways, stepped his right foot back a short half-step, and assumed the Viltrumite Stance.

"Are you sure?"

Faced with a death threat, his voice remained as calm as ever.

"Ahhhhhhh!!"

Clayton finally snapped, roaring as he launched an attack on Sparta.

Sparta flew up into the sky, raising his fists to meet the charge.

The fists of the two collided, and the resulting shockwaves swept out in all directions.

Clayton was beaten back a dozen paces in the air, and before he could even react, Sparta had already rushed in front of him.

Sparta struck a fierce right hook to the opponent's face.

Blood gushed from Clayton's nostrils as he was simultaneously sent flying a thousand meters away.

His body smashed through the peak of another mountain, yet his backward trajectory still did not stop.

Only after flying several thousand meters further did he manage to barely steady his figure.