Grulfan now admitted what he had refused to believe before—he had underestimated the people of the Caelestis Imperium of Man.
Though the enemy's fleet was fewer in number, their warships were of far superior quality compared to his own.
His battle cruisers were practically useless now. Some shots couldn't even penetrate the enemy's shields.
"Damn it! It must be that warship's fault!"
Grulfan caught a glimpse of the strange vessel in the distance—a warship with a glowing sphere at its rear, floating far from the battlefield. He immediately realized that was the reason his fleet couldn't jump out of the system.
"Commander, we can't keep going like this!"
Understanding the gravity of the situation, Grulfan gritted his teeth and barked out the order:
"Advance at full speed! Destroy that cursed ship, no matter the cost! Without it, we can escape this hell!"
But before the order could be fully carried out—
"Sir! The rear has been breached!"
A Gloripork soldier, panting and armed, ran into the bridge and shouted the report.
---
Down in the dark corridors of the Gloripork flagship, hundreds of soldiers stood ready, clutching their weapons and staring into the abyss ahead.
Suddenly—a red cross-shaped lightsaber ignited at the far end of the hall. Behind it marched towering figures clad in power armor—the Space Marines.
Streams of red and blue psionic light burst toward the Gloripork troops like death incarnate.
"Fire!!"
Bullets, lasers, kinetic rounds—every weapon available was fired in a torrent at the advancing figures. The soldiers fired with everything they had.
But the Space Marines raised their shields, forming a solid wall.
And at the front—Kylo Ren.
He calmly raised his hand toward them.
BOOM!
In the blink of an eye, every bullet and beam froze mid-air, suspended in impossible stillness, twisted into grotesque positions by an unseen force.
"What is this…? Magic?!"
A Gloripork soldier couldn't help but shout out in disbelief at the surreal sight before him.
"What... what is this?! Magic?!"
"No," came a cold, distorted voice.
"This is the Force."
Kylo Ren spoke as he stepped forward, his cross-shaped lightsaber pulsing with crimson energy.
Then—with a single wave of his hand—the barrage of bullets and lasers was hurled back at the attackers with immense force.
"Damn it! Keep firing!!"
Laser beams screamed through the corridor, targeting the black-clad figure, but Kylo deflected them effortlessly with elegant, deadly sweeps of his blade.
Behind him, Space Marines advanced, their shields up, unshaken by the chaos.
"Kill him! Kill him!!"
Countless beams and explosive rounds rained down, but every shot was either deflected, blocked by the unyielding shields, or neutralized by the Force.
"Monster! Monster!"
Gloripork soldiers screamed as they were cut down, one after another, panic overtaking discipline.
---
Back on the bridge, Grulfan raged, cursing his subordinates for their incompetence—when suddenly,
CLANG!
A heavy iron door slammed straight down, sheared cleanly as if sliced by something unseen.
"This... this is the command center?"
From the shadows, a tall man in black armor and a flowing black cloak walked in. His presence was suffocating.
---
Kenthelion stared at the screen, his expression frozen in disbelief.
"So... you actually beheaded him?"
He asked, still trying to process the brutality of what he'd just witnessed.
Amid the wreckage and scattered bodies, Kylo Ren stood still, his red crossguard lightsaber glowing ominously.
"That's it," came the raspy voice from behind the black helmet.
Flat. Unemotional. As if execution was nothing more than routine.
"Forget it, forget it… never mind," Kenthelion muttered, rubbing his temple.
Originally, he had wanted to hand Grulfan over to the Inquisition—perhaps there was still military intelligence to extract about the Secred Meat's deployments.
But in the end?
Grulfan was beheaded with a single slash.
His body crushed by the Force, his soul annihilated.
There would be no questioning.
No second chances.
He couldn't even die again.
---
When the battle report reached the territories of Secred Meat, the entire nation was shaken.
King Grubham, seated on his throne, went pale upon hearing the news.
His legs gave out beneath him. He collapsed, paralyzed with fear.
At this point, who among the outer galaxy clusters hadn't heard the name of the Imperium Caelestis of Man?
With sacred technology, psychic forces, Space Marines, and now even a wielder of the Force at their vanguard—their reputation had spread like wildfire across the stars.
A mighty civilization fueled by extreme xenophobia, leaving no mercy for those who dared to oppose them.
And now, Secred Meat had just tasted the beginning of their wrath.
A militant regime, racial hysteria, human supremacy, extreme xenophobia—these words were now synonymous with the Imperium Caelestis of Man. They targeted refugee ships like target dummies, blew up other planets, scorched entire worlds with Exterminatus, leaving no living being behind. They vaporized planets into barren rocks with other weapons of mass destruction, beheaded enemy leaders, and unleashed terror with cold efficiency.
Do you even understand the kind of existence you've provoked?
If someone couldn't keep their head straight, they might just end up as a toilet in the Imperium Caelestis of Man.
And now... it wasn't just the other human kingdoms falling in line—other alien nations had started to submit, hoping to secure a slice of survival. Some even offered tributes.
Even a prince from one of the kingdoms was now considering a rebellion, driven by nothing but fear—fear that the Imperium Caelestis of Man might one day turn their gaze upon his world.