The Vimans Race was a forgotten race in the Western Universe. Once, they had been among the Western Realm Great Emperor's most trusted supporters.
They had suffered devastating losses in the last cosmic war and endured three civil wars within a century. After their old patriarch, Sadran, disappeared, the entire Vimans Race declined, gradually withdrawing from the interstellar stage.
Prada Star was the Vimans' last home. Its scenery was beautiful, its climate pleasant, and its air exceptionally clean.
Hovering above Prada Star, Zhang Fan gazed down at the beautiful planet in wonder. It was so lovely that he could hardly bear to bring slaughter to it.
"Wait here. I'll go down and take a look."
Meng Jia asked curiously, "Overlord, what's there to look at? This planet has no defenses at all. Give me fifteen minutes, and I guarantee I'll take it."
"It's not every day I see such a beautiful planet. I'll go down and unwind for a bit."
Ignoring everyone's astonishment, Zhang Fan teleported down to Prada Star alone.
He strolled along a mountain path, listening to the wind and greedily breathing in the fragrance of flowers. The sweet scent of pollen refreshed his body and mind.
Suddenly, a piercing scream rang out. A woman was staring at Zhang Fan in terror.
Zhang Fan had wanted to call out to her, but she turned and ran, racing down the rugged mountain path without a care for her footing.
Zhang Fan found it rather amusing. His Insect Race body did look a little frightening, but she was hardly much of a looker herself. Was that reaction really necessary?
Still, looking in the direction the woman had fled, he spotted a small mountain village. Wisps of cooking smoke rose above it, and the villagers were working their fields. What puzzled