Chapter 289: Assistance (In Honor of Lord Bodoldo of the Dawn Alliance)

Evil Dragon Star.

Wormhole.

Against the boundless cosmic backdrop, countless ships moved in and out of an elliptical light portal like ants.

A cerulean ship blended into the crowd, utterly unremarkable.

Fang Xing sat on the sofa, communicating with Nie Ying:

"Yes… Master, thanks to the obelisk of the Nine Swords Academy—and a bit of luck—I successfully broke through to Great Jin Gang…"

With the obelisk as an excuse, his breakthrough to the Great Jin Gang physique wouldn't seem too abrupt.

"As for the mecha… the Nine Swords Academy has already produced the overall design blueprint…"

After Fang Xing finished explaining, Nie Ying's projection across from him wore an expression of utter disbelief: "You kid… you've got insane luck. Inhibitors? Even big corporations are scrambling for them. So many labs, yet only you succeeded."

"Heh, just luck, pure luck… White Bird Star's environment is great for cultivating new strains."

Fang Xing rubbed his head: "So I plan to settle permanently on White Bird Star and set up a new inhibitor factory to save up for building mecha…"

Nie Ying's expression grew even more incredulous: "Back in my day, I signed a multi-century indenture just to get a custom mecha. Forget it—you've made it, that's what matters. How's your Will Inscription training going?"

In Fang Xing's mind, his martial will stirred, sketching a pattern in midair.

Unfortunately, the lines were blurry, indistinguishable as human or beast.

"You've even entered the Beast Diagram?"

Nie Ying widened his eyes: "Good, good… Even in his prime, Wei Wei Shentong only achieved perfection in the Star Map. That kid had no talent and a crooked heart—no wonder he's inferior to you. For us fist practitioners, sincerity and right-mindedness are indispensable."

He gave a few more pointers on Will Inscription training before ending the call.

The projection on the sofa opposite Fang Xing vanished instantly.

'I… sincerity and right-mindedness?'

Fang Xing touched his face: "Forget it. I walk the Immortal-Martial Dao—it's different from traditional martial arts."

He sighed, picked up a massive tome resembling a dictionary, and began reading carefully.

It was a book on mecha construction, personally designed by Han Han Chunfeng; if fully printed, it would fill several skyscrapers.

What he held in hand was merely the table of contents…

"Fortunately, I have perfect recall… but finishing it still won't be easy. Take it slow."

Fang Xing immersed himself in study.

Time passed without notice.

Suddenly!

An emergency communication arrived.

"Hm?"

Fang Xing lifted his gaze to see Xiao Lan looking frantic: "Master… we've detected a Federation emergency distress signal!"

He immediately scanned the message: "Mystic Realm descent?! Threat level… suspected manifestation of a Demigod offspring? No wonder they're calling for help!"

"Wait—what's the Numerical Space defense force doing? How did a Demigod offspring slip through?"

Numerical Space's defense was like a fishing net.

The larger the fish, the harder it was to slip through.

Especially in the past decade, since the Federation's tech leap, even ordinary Servant-level incidents had become rare.

The last surge occurred a decade ago, when the Cult of the Creator stirred trouble.

But after Fang Xing secretly sold off a batch of Demigod worshippers, things calmed down again.

Now, a major event—a Demigod offspring descending—caught Fang Xing completely off guard.

"Hmm… I'm still a nominal Federation security consultant."

He thought for a moment and gave the order: "Xiao Lan, connect to the combat channel!"

Soon, a virtual war room materialized.

At its center was a star map, showing a massive transport ship drifting among the cosmic rivers.

A sharp-looking woman in military uniform spoke: "This Mystic Realm descent occurred aboard the Transport Vessel 'Dewis 19012.' Its current cosmic coordinates are…"

Fang Xing listened, then understood: "Bad luck, no wonder…"

Demigod attacks in Numerical Space usually manifested on planets, where life's magnetic fields were strongest.

Because Demigod kin favored slaughter and consumption of life—to fuel their evolution.

Deployed in deep space, they'd have little destructive power—and risk being surrounded by Federation fleets.

"I am the overall commander of this operation—Wu Sheng Zhou Zhou Yehua!"

A middle-aged man in black combat gear appeared in projection, his features stern and composed: "What cargo is aboard this transport?"

His question silenced the room.

Finally, a portly business executive spoke: "The transport carries immigrants—around 340,000 in total. All documentation is legitimate."

"An Owe Group transport?"

Zhou Zhou Yehua's eyes flashed sharply: "Federation fleets will arrive in three cosmic hours. I'm en route in my Group-Mech mecha—'Eight-Armed Evil Dragon Beast.' All reinforcements will converge at this coordinate. Our goal: contain the Demigod offspring until the Federation fleet arrives."

Quickly, tasks were assigned.

Fang Xing saw his flight path—calculated by the Omniscient Brain to be the fastest and most energy-efficient route for his ship.

It also ensured he'd arrive precisely when the others did, with teams already formed and responsibilities assigned.

These elite Federation professionals, even hastily assembled, formed a formidable space force.

"Demigod offspring… possibly from the 'Lord of Entropy'?"

"That chaotic outsider deity? I thought the Cult of the Creator was behind this again…"

Fang Xing fell into thought.

Among Demigod kin, upper-tier servants could rival ordinary seventh-jing professionals.

But Demigod offspring were unpredictable.

They all possessed at least eighth-jing power; some reached ninth-jing.

The strongest could rival tenth-jing professionals, entering the realm of Lower Rulers.

Of course, such Demigod offspring were exceedingly rare—possibly rarer than the outsider deities themselves.

Even Upper Rulers needed to pay a terrible price—perhaps splitting their own 'authority'—to birth such powerful offspring.

'Since the Red Three arrest a decade ago, the Federation should understand Demigods better… they won't directly target the Dream Gods.'

'As long as the Creator doesn't awaken, the rest are minor issues—the Blue Star Federation can handle them.'

'After all, the Federation has slain multiple outsider deities before…'

Fang Xing exhaled slowly, and a pair of golden angelic wings emerged behind him.

"Master… one minute twelve seconds to arrival!"

Xiao Lan's voice echoed.

"I'm going ahead. You switch to free cruise mode—stay clear of the blast zone."

Fang Xing donned his golden mecha and gave the order. This was his private ship—if it got destroyed, it'd be a massive loss.

Whoosh!

Fang Xing's body was a space-dwelling lifeform, naturally surviving in vacuum; with the 'Sun God's Wings,' he resembled a god of space itself.

Moreover!

In his mind, the Beast Diagram solidified, his martial will surging and merging with every part of the mecha, etching intricate, arcane patterns onto its golden surface.

He had fully unlocked the potential of the seventh-jing mecha 'Sun God's Wings,' controlling it with exquisite precision, and soon reached an asteroid belt where he saw a colossal eight-armed dragon.

"Group-Mech mecha—Eight-Armed Evil Dragon Beast!"

Fang Xing felt the oppressive aura radiating from the supermassive mecha and exhaled slowly.

'Sun God's Wings' was merely a premium seventh-jing mecha.

'Eight-Armed Evil Dragon Beast' was unquestionably a ninth-jing mecha!

Controlled by one Wu Sheng and eight Jin Gang experts, it could unleash the power of a Martial God!

"Theoretically, this strength should handle a typical Demigod offspring—but it's not guaranteed."

Fang Xing landed on a massive asteroid, joining the dozen others who had arrived.

The weakest among them were sixth-jing professionals.

Of course, no Wu Sheng was present.

Hence, his own Great Jin Gang rank had earned him the role of squad leader from the Omniscient Brain.

At that moment, the colossal dragon eyes of the Eight-Armed Evil Dragon Beast suddenly flared crimson.

In an instant, everyone found themselves inside a vast plaza—likely the mecha's interior.

Zhou Zhou Yehua, clad in black combat gear, stood with arms crossed: "Three minutes until combat. I'll hold off the Demigod offspring. Your mission: breach the transport ship, rescue key hostages, and… evacuate critical cargo."

At this, the professionals frowned.

From a black humanoid mecha, a gruff voice spoke: "Once a Demigod offspring descends, it always sacrifices hundreds of thousands as blood offerings. Are there even any survivors left on that ship?"

"There are. The ship carries Federation's highest-grade life-support pods—they can withstand an outsider deity's influence for over half an hour…"

A female secretary in business attire spoke, transmitting maps to everyone's neural processors.

Fang Xing glanced at them—detailed ship schematics, internal structure perfectly clear.

"Hmph… someone important must be trapped aboard. Probably some tycoon's daughter."

A sarcastic voice chimed in.

"Enough. Action in thirty seconds."

Zhou Zhou Yehua said nothing more and issued the order directly.

……

Beyond the universe and starry void.

Fang Xing was fully encased in a golden exosuit, even wearing a golden mask over his face.

Behind him, a line of operatives stood in silence, all gazing at a distant spacecraft, lifeless and drifting through space.

"Countdown… 3, 2, 1!"

Roar!

At the instant the countdown reached zero, an unimaginably massive dragon-machine appeared.

Each of its arms could grasp planets; that once-massive spacecraft was no more than a speck of dust to it.

The next instant, the Eight-Armed Evil Dragon shrank in size—still colossal, but now comparable to the spacecraft.

Its eight arms extended, firmly securing the spacecraft.

"Waaah!"

The next moment, the cry of an infant echoed from within the spacecraft.

From the deck, windows, and even gaps in the steel, countless streams of pitch-black liquid seeped out.

They were as viscous as oil, yet carried an indescribable sense of chaos.

"The power of a Demigod Offspring lies not merely in strength, but in its ability to alter environments—and even influence rules…"

"The Demigod Offspring of the Lord of Entropy plunges everything around it into chaos…"

Zhou Zhou Yehua's voice continued: "We're neither lucky nor unlucky… this Demigod Offspring's strength hovers around the Ninth Realm—not among the hardest to handle."

"I'll pull this Chaos Offspring into the Imaginary Space shortly… minimize its influence. You enter the ship and prepare for rescue."

"Be warned: the spacecraft likely already harbors countless servants and Juanzu -level abominations!"

……

Before he finished speaking, Fang Xing saw the Eight-Armed Evil Dragon's limbs plunge directly into the spacecraft.

Its thick deck tore like paper beneath the dragon's eight arms.

"Waaah!"

The infant's cry sharpened into a piercing wail.

Each cry carried potent mental contamination, causing several Sixth Realm operatives to stir in agitation.

"Watch out… we may be facing the Demigod Offspring's true form. Those with mental defenses or mental antidotes, use them now."

Fang Xing gave the order in a low voice.

Not every operative, like him, had condensed Golden Vajra Relics or Solar Relics at low realms.

Nor was every Blue Star operative a Martial Body cultivator.

But the Federation had long ago developed countermeasures for such situations.

The most convenient was the exosuit—load in the appropriate mental defense module.

Other operatives could use special antidotes or other methods.

"Waaah!"

The instant Fang Xing issued his warning, the infant's cry grew even more agonized.

Countless viscous, oil-like black fluids poured from the spacecraft, attempting to fully engulf the Eight-Armed Evil Dragon's limbs.

Then, from the sea-like pool of black liquid, a Chaos Offspring suddenly emerged.

It seemed composed of countless black threads, with no fixed form—its structure and organs twisted in chaotic, contradictory directions.

Chaos… disorder…

Merely glancing at it could drive ordinary operatives mad.

The Eight-Armed Evil Dragon exosuit allowed the black fluid to coat its body, while several arms seized the Chaos Offspring.

Then, both colossal forms vanished simultaneously.

"It's our turn!"

Fang Xing took a deep breath and flew first toward the spacecraft, still smeared with black fluid.

He extended his right hand—a phoenix-like wing of light flashed, carving a massive hole in the ship's deck.

He plunged inside, appearing fearless and bold.

This sight stunned the operatives following him: 'He's just a temporary squad leader—why risk his life like this?'

Head throbbing, update postponed until tomorrow

(End of Chapter)