Chapter 410: Self‑Destruct in the Red River Sector

In a moment of panic Song Chi reflexively activated the Space‑skipping Pearl. A faint spatial ripple flickered overhead and a nuclear pulse shot upward from a slanted angle, punching clean through the Heavenly Ruin in the sky.

A figure barely a hundred meters tall burst from the primeval forest. Bathed in sunlight its alloy body gleamed silver—the Celestial‑Star’s high‑grade Power Armor, the most advanced model available.

Naturally the pilot inside had to be that fifth‑tier Celestial‑Star.

After more than a thousand years dealing with them the Song Family knew this armor inside out.

It came in basic, intermediate and advanced versions. The basic was little better than a good exosuit; the real threats were the intermediate and advanced models.

The intermediate suit debuted a millennium ago, boasting excellent defenses and formidable firepower. Its biggest flaw was power drain. Even with a Celestial‑Star micro fusion core it struggled in prolonged engagements.

If the intermediate guzzled power like that, the advanced could only be worse.

Another drawback—only Celestial‑Stars could pilot it. Anyone else risked triggering the recognition system and blowing the whole suit sky‑high.

Family records listed several researchers who died exactly that way.

The sole workaround was to enslave the pilot with a slave module, like that fourth‑tier Mora Royal earlier. But the Celestial‑Stars’ powerful minds made that nearly impossible.

Hence the armor’s reputation as a white elephant; if not for that, the Song Family would have seized it long ago despite the Chaos Sector and Doomstar backing behind it.

The fifth‑tier pilot burst from the forest only to find the pierced Heavenly Ruin was a mere after‑image; the real ship had blinked far away.

Fwoosh! Fwoosh!

The warship’s twin main cannons fired. Pre‑charging paid off: the two energy lances struck before the Celestial‑Star could react.

When the blast smoke cleared Song Chi frowned in the command chair.

The armor had tanked two sixth‑tier cannon shots and looked untouched.

Yet the pilot, wary of more Torch ships, turned back toward the forest, thrusters roaring.

Song Chi refused to let him get away.

The Heavenly Ruin was already outside the other elders’ sensor range. This Red River Sector wasn’t Torch territory, so no local net existed. He couldn’t call for help.

If the enemy realized no one else was coming Song Chi would face a peak fifth‑tier empowered by level‑5 source laws—alone.

Decision made.

He burned the last charge of the Space‑skipping Pearl and blinked beside the Celestial‑Star.

The foe reacted fast. As the ship appeared the suit spun and fired a special ray straight from its chest fusion core, streaking toward the warship.

【Warning: Warship hit by unknown radiation. Five‑Element Omnishield integrity −8.0 billion. Current shield 66.7%. Immediate repairs advised.】

Song Chi’s scalp tingled—one shot had erased a third of the upgraded sixth‑tier shield.

And it wasn’t over. The fusion core kept gathering power.

The Sky‑Domain AI assisted with micro‑maneuvers, but the enemy was unleashing a fan‑shaped spray, not a single beam.

Under that spread the Heavenly Ruin couldn’t dodge.

The AI chimed again.

【Spatial rigidity detected. Area partly locked. Ship speed down 30 percent.】

Song Chi didn’t panic; a cold gleam flashed in his eyes.

He’d lingered too long already. Only a quick victory would let him reach Sky‑Star City for the high‑grade source and rare resources.

Enough playing—he triggered the Behemoth Heart.

Ka‑ka‑ka!

Metal screeched at the bow as the super‑cannon retracted and a black‑gold ramming spike slid into place, edge glittering.

Black‑Gold Charge activated, along with the Antimatter Evolution Engine’s High‑Overload Burst.

The Heavenly Ruin roared forward, leaving blurred after‑images as it rammed straight for the armor.

The Celestial‑Star tried to dodge, but chains of black light shot from the bow first.

The purple‑grade God‑Binding Chains snapped almost instantly under the armor’s pull.

That split‑second pause, though, stole his best escape window. Fear and regret filled his eyes.

He had no idea the golden Zen Seal: External Time Stop was still waiting.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

A deafening crash rang out as the hundred‑meter armor was smashed thousands of meters away.

Such was the limit of the pseudo chains. The genuine red‑grade version would have pinned him for good, letting the ship turn him into a micro neutron star.

From afar Song Chi saw a massive dent covering nearly the whole suit, a hole punched clean through at its center.

Not enough. A fifth‑tier armor wouldn’t die that easily. Time to add fuel to the fire.

Roar!

A red‑glowing mace crashed onto the suit’s head, sparks flying. The hundred‑meter One‑Eyed Troll hefted the weapon again when it saw the suit’s eye‑lights still burning.

Ordinary trolls were only a few meters tall, but their talent True Demon Form let them inflate at will; a sixth‑tier could reach a hundred kilometers. The troll wasn’t showing its full size yet.

While the chaos‑laden mace rose again, the Heavenly Ruin closed in. The spike had switched back to the Myriad‑Spirit Annihilation Bow, energy shaping a colossal arrow.

This wasn’t the Life‑bane Arrow, just a standard charged shot.

Both flank cannons, however, had activated their special attacks. Song Chi wanted this over.

Beep‑beep‑beep!

An urgent alarm sounded. Instinct screamed danger. The Summoner’s Seal on the troll lit up, and the Neutron‑Star Core Armor auto‑triggered its first Neutron‑Star Fission after reaching silver grade.

He wasn’t paranoid—his double pupils saw the armor’s surface energy spike wildly.

The very next second—

Boom!

A terrifying blast erupted from the armor. Even Song Tianshu and Song Tianmang, millions of kilometers away, felt the shockwave.

Their Zhulu‑class cruisers swung around and raced toward the blast center.

Neither elder could stay calm. The explosion came from Song Chi’s direction—how could they not worry?

Song Chi was a once‑in‑a‑generation prodigy. Losing him would be disastrous.

The two cruisers had linked up earlier and now streaked east without slowing.

Only when the seemingly intact Heavenly Ruin appeared at the horizon did the elders, each over sixteen hundred years old, finally breathe out.

“Chi, kid, what happened?”

As the channel opened Song Tianshu and Song Tianmang spoke in unison.

Still shaken, Song Chi answered,

“That fifth‑tier Celestial‑Star was ruthless. When he couldn’t escape he self‑destructed.”

The elders’ faces darkened.

The Family had faced Celestial‑Stars for a millennium, yet deliberate self‑destructs were unheard of and never mentioned in the intel.

An accidental blast during forced entry was one thing; a full‑power fifth‑tier self‑destruct was on a whole different scale.

All three agreed the news had to be reported at once; the Family needed to be prepared.

“Let’s jump straight to Sky‑Star City. The elders must hear about the armor self‑destructs.”

…

“That fast?”

Above Sky‑Star City the bombardment on the nuclear shield continued. Seeing the Heavenly Ruin return so soon, Song Dingbang and Song Tianhao were surprised.

After hearing Song Chi’s report they grew solemn.

A fifth‑tier self‑destruct wasn’t something to ignore.

The Family was nearly three thousand years old yet had only a few dozen fourth‑tiers. Losing even one would hurt.

“This is Song Dingbang. Any ship without red‑grade armor rated for tier‑five hits must leave the floating continent at once. Return only after all fifth‑tier Celestial‑Stars are cleared.”

Many elders disliked the order—leaving now meant missing first‑pick loot—yet over twenty Zhulu cruisers still blasted off the continent.

They’d lived for centuries and knew the patriarch acted for their safety; none disobeyed.

Song Chi glanced around and was surprised to see nearly twenty Zhulu cruisers still present.

Each carried red‑grade hull armor and orange‑grade flame seeds—a testament to the Song Family’s depth.

Red‑grade hull armor would spark bidding wars elsewhere. Regular battleship captains rarely had it, yet the Family possessed over twenty modules.

And that was only the hull armor; there was no way those ships carried just a single red‑grade component.