Brothers! I've Got a Bold Idea!

The Immortal Race's little abacus was clicking so loudly that he could hear it all the way over in the Human Race's territory.

That was the gap between civilizations. The Immortal Race would never imagine the Human Race's bizarre technological weapons, and the Human Race would never understand the Immortal Race's strange talent for Immortal Cultivation.

Ahem, well, that wasn't necessarily true...

The Immortal Sect disciples joined the Elf Legion from a distance and haughtily relayed Sect Master Chao Zhu's words to the Elf King.

Despite his fury, the Elf King could do nothing. They held the knives and chopping block; he was the fish on it.

Nearly ten million members of the entire elf race lived in the rear. Those damned bastards meant what they said, and there was no sentiment to appeal to.

They were helpless, too. They had no idea why another race had wanted to invade them just after they advanced to a second-level civilization, before they even had time to develop.

Father God had chosen to refuse the war, but who could have known that the enemy possessed a Divine Card of some unknown grade? It made it impossible for their Father God to refuse the Star War, leaving him no choice but to accept the challenge.

The result was defeat at the hands of the Undead Race. Father God was devoured, and they were reduced to slaves and purchased by the Immortal Race.

That terrifying Undead Calamity, those endless skeletons, remained the Elf Race's nightmare to this day.

It all came down to luck. The countless bizarre Divine Cards gave Star Wars limitless possibilities. Sometimes, a single F-grade Divine Card could overturn heaven and earth and decide a planet's fate.

There was no time to dwell on the past. Under the Immortal Race's orders, the Elf King urged the Hippogriff King into the sky and cast the royal family's group enhancement spells-War Aura, Fearless Aura, and Faith Aura.

"Spirits of the wind, rise high and never perish! Justice shall guide us! Fight!"

After casting the three large-scale enhancement spells, the Elf King slumped weakly over his Hippogriff. The somewhat disorganized elves found renewed conviction in their hearts. To protect the Mother Tree, I would pay any price.

The elf mages cast Wind Wall, Great Wind, and other magic skills into the sky, intercepting some of the Resentment Elixir, but they still could not stop the shells. Their power was simply too great.

In truth, this also had to do with the overwhelming difference in civilization levels. Under the Human Race's guidance, the Dwarf Race used second-level civilization technology. But the Elf Race?

They were still only a first-level civilization. They had been destroyed immediately after advancing to a second-level civilization, before unlocking the second-level Elf Race's Technology Tree. They could not use second-tier civilization spells or technology.

After these elves lost the war, Cross Planet spent energy to purchase them. It bought only the essential Tree of Life, which allowed the Elf Race to survive, without providing a systematic path for their civilization's development.

They had none of the Elf Race's second-level civilization military units, second-level magic skills, or other resources.

It was the same with the Dwarf Race. If Zhang Yang had not spent 500 energy points to buy them the complete second-level Dwarf Race Technology Tree, they would still have been stuck with Smoothbore Cannons in the Steam Age.

Besides, this was the Tenth Ring. Everyone had only recently advanced to a second-level civilization. Most were still in the early stages of development, had unlocked only a handful of technologies, and had almost never fought another Star War.

Exceptions like Zhang Yang were pitifully rare. Practically nonexistent...

The myriad races: "Boo-hoo! He's got it good! Readers support him, and the author gives him cheats! Who's supporting us?!"

Zhang Yang even had energy points to spare for watching matches at the Beast Arena and purchasing Technology Trees for his subordinate races...

The Star Lords Zhang Yang encountered at the Beast Arena had advanced hundreds of millions of years ago and belonged to the earlier rings. They came to relax and exchange experiences.

Newbies were focused on development. If you challenged them, they would refuse unless they had a screw loose.

That left many Tenth Ring Star Lords in an awkward position. They wanted to challenge the top twenty Star Lords, but not a single one would accept, so all they could do was wait...

Wait for the Rankings to refresh once a year. Every year, opponents with the same battle record would be randomly reshuffled, and they could try challenging them again to see whether anyone would accept.

As a result, some unlucky bastards had developed for over ten thousand years, yet because the top twenty were all diehard turtles who refused every challenge, they could not advance and were painfully stuck.

If you challenged them at that point, everyone would be delighted. Congratulations and may you prosper-better luck with your next reincarnation!

The universe was just that wondrous, full of drama. Everything was ordained by fate; not a shred lay in mortal hands.

Shrouded in the auras, the Elf Race raced forward. As the Dwarf Race drew closer, the elf archers began drawing their bows and firing arrows to provide cover.

"Order the helicopter formations to take off and wipe out those sons of bitches in the distance."

"Make sure you wait until their Black Hound Knights get closer before opening fire. Let them learn what cruelty means." He took a swig of liquor and watched the approaching elf cavalry through his binoculars.

Sevi had noticed it, too. Although the enemy's power system was rather fantastical, its actual strength was very low. Was this what it meant to crush someone with technology?

He could not help feeling smug. Our imperial race hasn't even used those terrifying weapons yet. Couldn't the enemy make this a little harder?

Can you even fight, you scrawny mutts?!

I'm so lonely! This is a complete stomp!

Sevi wiggled his backside and swayed around with his wineglass, utterly brazen.

The imperial race had a song called "How Lonely It Is to Be Invincible!"

Watching Sevi show off and dance, Bai Qi ordered with a face full of exasperation, "Go call Sevi and tell him not to let his guard down. There are two thousand immortals mixed into the Elf Legion, and two more Elf Legions will be arriving nearby soon."

"And tell him his dancing is pretty good. He should never do it again."

"It fucking burns my eyes!"

"Yes, sir!" The messenger covered his mouth and left, struggling to hold back his laughter.

No matter how hard life got for these dwarves, as long as they had booze, none of it was a problem.

"Yes, sir! Yes! I'll put the troops on alert immediately! Yes! I promise I won't dance again!" Sevi wiped the sweat from his forehead and stopped showing off.

"Order the Ironclad Berserker troops to move near the Cannons and Resentment Catapults. The enemy might storm the camp shortly!"

"What are the helicopter formations dawdling for? Get airborne now! The enemy has no air force left! But watch out for their strange magic!"

"Right, order them to load a barrel of Resentment Potion onto each helicopter, along with the custom bombs. Even if they get shot down, they have to make the enemy choke on it. Don't worry about your families back home. The brothers will take care of them!" Something suddenly occurred to Sevi, and he immediately issued the order.

That was war between races. There was no helping it. Either you died or I did.

Rumble! Rumble!

Nearly ten thousand helicopters rapidly took off. The ten formations maintained a wide distance from one another, each commanded by its own captain, and attacked the Elf Legion from different directions to guard against the enemy's strange magic.

The helicopters flew very high. Their glass was custom-made, and their exteriors were covered in thick titanium alloy steel to improve their defenses.

At an altitude of six thousand meters, they looked down at the dense sea of enemy troops and began firing wildly. The two six-barreled Gatling guns at the front of each helicopter spun furiously, constantly spitting tongues of flame. There was no need to aim.

Each helicopter carried four missiles mounted along its sides. Under the copilot's control, their targeting systems locked precisely onto targets before he pressed the button to launch.

The long missiles spat tongues of flame and accelerated under fuel power, hurtling toward their targets.

The entire helicopter force numbered nearly ten thousand aircraft, with one thousand in each formation, numbered ① through ⑩.

Mengqi was the captain of Formation ②. Seeing more than a thousand winged beings among the distant enemy troops, completely different from the other races, he asked curiously, "So that's the Immortal Race?"

"Fuck, I'm competing with that brat Menggu for the wing commander's position. If I rack up a major achievement, then...!"

At that thought, his eyes lit up. Mengqi opened Formation ②'s channel and picked up his radio.

"Brothers! I've got a bold idea!"

Menggu was the captain of Formation ③. He was 270 years old that year. After a lifetime of drifting, he was so destitute that he could not even find a wife.

But that year, he had suddenly been assigned a wife. Supposedly, she was a gift Father God had bestowed upon the Dwarf Race. From then on, he worshipped Father God every day!

With a wife, he found motivation in life. He stopped drinking all day and enlisted!

Unexpectedly, he genuinely had a talent for flying. He placed in the top three in several joint examinations and became the captain of Formation ③ of the helicopter Aerial Combat Force.

He had heard that outstanding performance in this battle could earn them Father God's blessing. The young lads under his command still had no wives!

With what they had to offer, their chances in this lifetime were slim. But if they performed brilliantly and earned major merits, things would be different!

He did not want another wife. He could barely handle one. What he wanted was the wing commander's position!

"That brat Mengqi has been competing with me all along. If I make a major contribution this time..."

As he flew, he spotted a golden beast among the distant enemy troops. An elf lay atop it, wearing a crown, holding a golden staff, and sporting a golden cape on his back, looking as cocky as a complete idiot.

Menggu looked at the enemy's position, his eyes brightening. His tiny eyes shone with a tremendous light as he picked up his radio, switched to his formation's channel, and spoke gently.

"Brothers! I've got a bold idea!"

"Want wives?"