Chapter 121: Arrival of the Elven Delegation and the Return to Mars

“So these are elves? They’re gorgeous!”

“According to the briefing, that’s Violet, chieftain of Emeraldshade Forest, one of the four great elven clans. She’s 178 years old.”

“Wait, 178? Are you serious?”

“Can’t you read the info yourself? The Presidential Office already released the full profiles of every member in the elven delegation!”

“By the way, Proxima II’s orbital period is only 11 days. So 178 years is actually less than 2,000 days, right?”

“Come on, who came up with that? Less than 2,000 days—how’s that possible? They’re obviously counting in Earth years. I’ve heard elves average 300 years, and even when they die of old age, they look youthful till the end.”

“I’m so jealous…”

Led by Violet, eight female elves stepped into the conference room aboard the Zhulong, specially prepared for their arrival.

Federal citizens watching the livestream went wild.

Comments poured in nonstop.

Among them, Violet—by far the most striking—quickly drew everyone’s attention.

But when people realized Violet was already 178, they were even more shocked.

Then again, when you remember elves can live to 300 and still look young as ever, well…

Suddenly, 178 didn’t seem like a big deal at all.

Right away, a ridiculous number of people shamelessly started calling her their wife.

——

Six months later.

Eighteen warships, led by the Zhulong, slowly docked at the Sixth Fleet’s temporary spaceport on Mars.

After more than two years away, they’d finally made it home. Excitement filled everyone on board.

Especially Lin Yu.

Through the viewport at his docking bay, Lin Yu could already see a massive silver-white warship with three giant characters emblazoned on its hull.

The Houyi!

No doubt about it—this was the most powerful warship in the Federation, soon to become the Sixth Fleet’s flagship and Lin Yu’s very own new ride.

One of only five Warstars humanity had, the Houyi stood ready.

Since its completion, it had been waiting here for its captain for nearly a year.

And just then—

“What do you think? Does the Houyi look cool?”

“It’s awesome!”

“Cuter than me?”

“Well, as expe—”

Lin Yu started to answer automatically, but halfway through he froze.

That voice sounded so familiar…

Like a robot, he didn’t move—just slowly turned his neck.

He found himself staring at an unbelievably beautiful face smiling right at him.

I’m doomed…

Those words—I’m doomed—filled Lin Yu’s mind all at once.

Off to the side, George and the others watched with mischievous grins.

——

An hour later.

After taking a good scolding, Lin Yu and Mu Qingxue boarded a shuttle to Mars City 37—the city where Lin Yu had grown up.

After all, Mu Qingxue was a Federation officer, holding the powerful position of Vice Admiral for the Fifth Fleet. Staying at home with their child full-time just wasn’t possible.

Typically, children aren’t sent into space until they start elementary school at six.

Before that, it’s not forbidden to take them to space, but it’s best not to have them up there too long, or it backfires.

Once they turn six, though, at least 80% of their time must be spent off-planet—that’s a strict Federation rule.

Because of this, Lin Yu and Mu Qingxue’s child stayed on Mars, mostly looked after by Big Sister from the orphanage.

After all, the only other member of the Mu family left besides Mu Qingxue is her grandfather.

As for Lin Yu…

Well, he still had no idea if his parents were even alive.

With neither of them having relatives who could help out, Lin Yu went to Wang Jing for help before heading to Proxima Centauri.

She of course agreed, happy to do it.

Over the past twenty years, she’d raised at least eighty—maybe a hundred—kids from infancy.

And Lin Yu was one of the children she’d raised herself.

Mu Qingxue had no objections. Thanks to remote holographic interfaces, she could video call her child every day.

The only regret: she couldn’t actually hold them.

But honestly, just being able to see each other was wonderful.

——

Fifty-one light-years from Earth.

Beta Ursae Majoris.

A massive fleet swept forward—over five thousand ships strong.

Trailing them was another fleet of over ten thousand ecosystem supply ships.

These ecosystem ships are standard for second- and third-tier civilizations on long-distance voyages, featuring fully self-sustaining biospheres where they could farm crops and raise livestock.

Their purpose: to provide the fleet with comprehensive and plentiful logistical support during long journeys among the stars.

Because in the end, a warship’s a warship—no way they’re fitting entire biospheres inside.

As for fourth-tier civilizations, they’ve mastered jump drives, so they don’t need to waste time flying slowly or rely on ecosystem ships—their role is nearly obsolete.

Still, until you reach that tech level, these support ships are absolutely essential for deep-space travel.

The reason humanity didn’t have them yet? The farthest they’d ever traveled was Proxima Centauri, a one-way trip of just eighty-five days.

So they simply didn’t need them.

“This place is bleak. Haven’t seen a single living planet out here—no wonder it’s unclaimed. No one wants to develop it.”

“Of course. It’s just too remote. No life-bearing planets, barely any resources—huge operations would never turn a profit. Only the Klein, running for their lives, would even try…”

“Hmph, this is all thanks to the Silsari Alliance screwing up. No defenses at all—let the enemy punch straight through the blockade. If they’d done their job, would we even be out here chasing them?”

The fleet’s vice commander had barely finished when the supreme commander scowled.

This pursuit had already taken over a hundred years—with no result.

Thanks to cryogenic sleep and regular crew rotations, the average age on board had only crept up by ten years, but still…

What a waste of time.

They still hadn’t caught their targets, and even if they did, returning home would take years.

Damn those Klein—once I catch them, they’re in for hell!

He was one of the two grand marshals of the Syndicate Collective, one of the three civilizations that banded together to wipe out the Klein.

Sure, that war ended over a century ago.

And yeah, the other two powers thought, ‘So what if one enemy fleet got away…’

“Even if you gave them ten thousand years, they couldn’t possibly bounce back to their old strength—there’s nothing to worry about.”

But the Syndicate Collective saw things differently.

Once you started the fight, you had to finish it. Leave nothing standing.

So even if only they cared about the chase, they sent almost a third of their entire navy—and that should tell you just how obsessed they were with wiping out the Klein.

You could see how determined they were to hunt down every last Klein survivor.

“By the way, Marshal, if my math’s right, the Drac Empire should be coming to collect their taxes again in about twenty years…”

The Drac Empire…

Marshal Zores’ expression immediately soured when he heard that name.

The mood shifted in a heartbeat.