Chapter 571: The Looming Storm Over Dragon-Spine: Schemes and Shadows

The Dragon Whale Hall is now a black, supreme-grade oddity. If fully restored in the future, it’s highly likely to ascend to the rarest, mythical rainbow grade.

Yet, as one of the Song Family of Dragon-Spine’s ultimate treasures, its greatest weakness is that it can’t be converted into a battleship component. To maximize its power, the Song Family fused it with the entire Dragon-Spine Continent, leveraging the floating-land’s massive size to fuel this high-level oddity.

Of course, the Song Family isn’t alone in this. Not just Torch Human Civilization but many races and civilizations throughout the Shattered Sea of Stars do the same.

This method has its drawbacks though—once you fuse an oddity with a continent, it becomes nearly impossible to separate them again. The oddity’s effects also become tightly bound to the floating-land it merges with.

Take the black-grade Dragon Whale Hall as an example—with the previous sixth-tier Dragon-Spine Continent’s support, it could only form a hundred Mind Halls and a hundred Starry Sky Thrones. Its powers, from helping comprehend laws to shrouding in the Chaotic Mist, all had significant limits.

Not long ago, after Dragon-Spine Continent advanced to the seventh tier, the slots for Mind Halls and Starry Sky Thrones shot up to five hundred each, and their range for star-crossing projections was greatly enhanced too.

That’s why the Song Family’s higher-ups keep siphoning origin cores from other floating-lands to feed Dragon-Spine Continent—they’re far from satisfied.

At the very least, they’re frustrated that even with Dragon-Spine advancing to seventh tier, they still can’t call back family on Red Star Continent through projection.

A Seventh‑Tier Floating-land combined with a black oddity may unleash about eighty percent of the Dragon Whale Hall’s true power, but this is just after its second repair. Once the third restoration is done, it will likely break into mythical rainbow-grade.

At that point, even a Seventh‑Tier Floating-land won’t be enough to unleash its full potential.

Once the discussion over how to handle the sixth-tier floating-land below wrapped up, the Song Family members all looked toward the tens of thousands of ordinary insectoids beneath them.

With nearly thirty years until the civilization war erupts, figuring out what to do with all these insectoids is no small problem.

Obviously, hauling them all back to Dragon-Spine Continent is out of the question. Feeding so many mouths would burn through a fortune—enough to make even the mighty Song Family wince.

Unless they could put every single one into hibernation, that would solve the supply problem—though that opens a whole other can of worms.

The upcoming civilization war is a clash of two galactic clusters—a conflict where countless Torch Captains will die and numerous Torch factions will be destroyed. That’s inevitable.

In this bloody reshuffling, the Song Family, as a new Immortal House, has only just secured a seat at the table. That’s just the first step—they’ll need real strength and endurance if they want to survive the game and catch those golden opportunities at the start of a new era.

Over the past decades—welcoming back the Hidden Vein, opening their vaults, stockpiling war materials for low buy, high sell—everything the Song Family has done was to bulk up and strengthen themselves.

Their efforts are paying off—over five thousand Cruiser Captains and nearly four hundred Zhulu-class Cruiser Captains say it all.

Still, it isn’t enough.

At the root, the Song Family’s history is just too short. Compared to other Immortal Houses with ten thousand years of foundation, even with their recent all-out push, they’ve only gone from scrawny to average. Up against the ‘brawny giants’ of the true ancient Immortal Houses, the gap is still massive.

That’s why the Song upper management must think outside the box—arming themselves any way they can. And these insectoids? They’re a crucial part of that strategy.

But sixty thousand isn’t enough. The Song Family wants millions. So shipping them home isn’t on the table—they must let these insectoids continue gathering all kinds of resources. Only when the Ancient Broodmother heals up can she devour those resources and birth more swarms.

As they discussed, a few spatial ripples shimmered overhead and three Zhulu-class Cruisers emerged from the vortex.

All three belonged to the family war council’s ‘Expansion Division’—each run by a deputy director, all experts at star chart mapping in new star domains.

Once communications connected, each ship uploaded a star chart.

Comparing the three star maps, Song Chi and the others soon had a good grasp on the surrounding areas around the sixth-tier floating-land.

Centering on this floating-land, within two thousand light-years there are two fourth-tier floating-lands, over ten third-tier floating-lands, and on the edge nearly two thousand light-years out, a vast asteroid belt stretching right off the star chart.

“Looks good. The remaining insectoids can gather resources from those floating-lands and the asteroid belt. That should be enough for the Ancient Broodmother to recover and spawn over a million more once she’s healed.”

…

With the plan set, Song Shiyuan stayed behind on the sixth-tier floating-land, using the Unmoving Vajra and the Origin Core Siphon to draw out the last twenty percent of its origin core.

Song Chi and the rest led their assigned bugs to neighboring floating-lands, setting them to gather resources nonstop for decades to come.

…

Morningstar Sun Continent, Sacred Star City.

After ten years, the Song Family’s Dragon Spine Commercial Tower was once again hosting the latest ‘Dragon-Spine Auction.’

After years of non-stop hype, crowds swarmed until the streets in front of the auction house overflowed—it had become the biggest spectacle in all the Morningstar Sun Continent’s public zone.

Such turnout wasn’t just because of the branch’s flood of orange upgraded Fire Sources, red battleship components, and fifth-grade bio-origin blood as headline-makers, but also because the Song Family’s rise to Immortal House status stirred up serious interest.

“Isn’t that the captain of the Gale Explorer Squad? He made Zhulu-class Cruiser Captain decades ago—didn’t think he’d show up!”

“Look there—that’s the Divinewind Li Family’s clan elder from Morningstar Kingdom. He’s a top-level Extreme Zhulu-class Captain.”

Captains and their Torch Battleships streaked down from the sky. Within twenty minutes more than twenty Zhulu-class Captains had arrived, even more Cruiser Captains beyond that.

Among the crowd, an independent captain frowned and muttered:

“What’s going on? Didn’t the Dragonspine Song Family become an Immortal House over a decade ago? Shouldn’t this be the height of their power? Forget Dreadnought Captains, how come there are hardly any Battleship Captains?”

“You’re missing the point. The Morningstar Sun Continent is stuck at fifth-tier peak, barely important in the kingdom anymore. This is just a mid-level auction under the Song Family. If this were a top-tier auction, would it even happen here?”

“You have no idea. My second aunt married into the Eagle Family, and she said ten years ago the Song Family held a massive auction on Silverplate Floating-land. Even Star-Annihilator-class Captains showed up to bid.”

“Finale of that auction was a drop of Dominion Origin Blood—sold for a Gold Sanctum Domain Component, can you believe that?”

“A Gold Sanctum component? That’s insane!”

…

As gossip buzzed, the auction officially began.

For the opening lot, to rouse the crowd, the Song Family went all in and put up a drop of fifth-grade insectoid origin blood.

This is crucial for Zhulu-class Cruisers aiming to leap to Battleships; even for Cruisers trying to break into Zhulu-class, it can increase ascension odds by over fifteen percent.

Sure enough, the auction hall’s Torch Captains turned wild with excitement.

In one of the ordinary seats at the back, three men and women sat side by side.

As items were auctioned off one by one, the trio never raised a bid.

Until a particular item appeared.

The young man on the left, his aura just at third-tier entry, whispered excitedly:

“Captain, that’s the one—the Ice Apricot Fruit he wanted! If we win it, we can trade it for that mid-grade Thunder Crystal he promised.”

The man in the center stayed calm, but his eyes sparkled with excitement too.

The Ice Apricot Fruit—perfect for ice-attuned cruiser captains going for Zhulu-class. Add one, and you have a five percent better shot at making the leap.

But it didn’t match the central captain’s ship—he was after the Thunder Crystal instead.

In the Shattered Sea of Stars, ice laws are relatively niche, so the trio easily snagged the Ice Apricot Fruit.

Once they’d made the purchase, all three quietly left the auction hall.

Shortly after, their cruisers shot out of Sacred Star City and toward the skies.

A hundred light-years from Morningstar Sun Continent, deep in a debris field, after two jumps, the three cruisers made it to the rendezvous.

Once they scanned the area and confirmed it was deserted, the trio plunged into the debris field.

At its heart, an 1,100-meter cruiser was already waiting.

“Got the stuff?”

In the linked comms, the masked captain’s voice was cold.

The trio’s captain pulled out the Ice Apricot Fruit.

“That’s right—it’s the real deal. Let’s make the trade!”

He said, and the masked cruiser captain tossed a flickering, thunder-charged crystal to the center.

The other captain sent the Ice Apricot Fruit as well, both using tractor beams to secure the exchange.

In moments, both groups had their prized advancement resources.

Before leaving, the masked captain reminded them:

“You better stick to our deal. Don’t use the mid-grade Thunder Crystal until you’re out of Morningstar Kingdom—and no matter what, pass or fail, none of you three can ever come back here again.”

“Relax!”

Not long after the trio left, the 1,100-meter cruiser finished charging up for another jump.

But just then, a high-pitched whine sliced through the air from behind a large chunk of debris.

Blazing beams and deep-space torpedoes erupted at once—by the time the big cruiser’s captain realized, its energy shield and hull had already been struck.

The shield quaked violently, fragmented hull armor sprayed everywhere, and even the jump was cut short.

“Who’s there!”

Inside the hit cruiser, the masked captain’s voice grew furious.

He swept his gaze around, spotting a pale blue cruiser emerging from the side.

His eyes narrowed. He seemed to recognize the ship, but for some reason didn’t say the name. Instead, he said coldly,

“Star pirates? Pretty bold, aren’t you…”

Before he could finish, a mocking voice crackled from the opposing cruiser.

“Playing dumb, Song Lü? Just so you know, I put a tracker on your ship!”

“I recorded the whole deal—selling rare family ores under the table. You’ve been caught.”

With that, the opposing cruiser used its flash-displacement to leave the debris field.

“Song Xing!!”

In the 1,100-meter cruiser, the masked captain’s glare turned pitch dark.

But without flash-displacement systems, he could only exit at a crawl. By the time he cleared the debris, the other cruiser had already vanished into a jump.

Watching the flash of the departing warship, the masked captain muttered coldly:

“If you insist on courting death, you’ve only got yourself to blame.”

…

Morningstar Sun Continent—Song Family territory, Thunderstone Mine.

Back when the Song Family produced their first Dreadnought Captain, nearly a quarter of the Morningstar Sun Continent was carved out under their control.

Decades ago, the family discovered a large Thunderstone vein here—a massive boon.

A big Thunderstone vein produces Thunder Crystals, crucial advancement materials for lightning-attribute Torch Battleships. Their value is sky-high.

Above the mine, a ripple of space marked Song Xing’s return as his cruiser appeared overhead.

He wasted no time, heading straight for the mine’s command hall.

…

Two months later, as countless enslaved beasts watched from the mine, the sixth investigation unit of the family’s Audit Hall arrived with their fleet.

Their captain, Song Li, was a third-tier Cruiser Captain. Another cruiser trailed behind that didn’t belong to their squad.

Thunderstone Mine, battleship docks.

As the Audit team stepped out into the open, the mine supervisor, smile plastered on his face, hurried over.

“Captain Li, finally you’re here. So about—”

Before the smiling manager could finish, Song Li cut him off:

“You’re Song Lü, right? Let’s skip the pleasantries. We’ve got other tasks—time is tight. Let’s get right to it.”

“According to your report from three days ago, Song Xing was caught embezzling precious family resources and executed on the spot. Correct?”

“Yes, Captain!”

“Song Lü, be careful with your words. You’ll be held responsible for what you say!”

“My grandson followed the Law of Light—he had no use for Thunderstones! And according to Song Xing himself, the one pulling dirty tricks in this mine is you!”

Song Lü had just nodded when a wave of pressure swept out from beside Song Li. An old man, hardened and bloodshot, glared at Song Lü with the resolve of someone at the peak of third-tier.

Song Xing was his most gifted grandson—not just with purple fire, but grasping law at the third tier, he had a real shot at becoming a Zhulu-class Captain. Who could’ve guessed he’d die here, without warning.

“Uncle Yufeng, you promised before we arrived!”

Song Li frowned, turning to Song Yufeng, who reined in his aura but couldn’t conceal the anger in his eyes.

“In that case, is there any proof?”

“Absolutely!”

Over the next two hours, Song Lü led the Audit team into the mine, showing what he claimed was evidence—plus a second-tier clansman who worked on site.

This man claimed Song Xing often slipped alone into the depths of the vein.

Song Li brought out the team’s lie detector module—it showed the witness was telling the truth.

Despite that, Song Yufeng could barely accept it. Rage boiled over, his third-tier peak aura surging.

Song Xing had brought up Song Lü’s shady dealings to him before.

He was almost certain this wasn’t so simple.

“Since when did our Song Family rot this deep? Embezzling clan property is bad enough, but slaughtering your kin—how dare you! If today—”

His voice was icy; bloodshot eyes fixed mercilessly on Song Lü.

But before he finished venting, a wave of power surged from the mine’s command hall—ten times greater than anything Song Yufeng could muster.

A figure soared out of the command center.

“Salute to Elder Zhihao!”

Song Li shifted his footing, moving to shield Song Yufeng and absorb some of the incoming pressure as they looked up at the man floating above.

Behind him, Song Yufeng’s lips bled. Four-tier force pressed down so hard that, even with the physique granted by third-tier peak Guiding Technique, he was on the edge of collapse.

It felt like a mountain smashing onto his shoulders—bones cracking with every breath.

At last, Elder Zhihao addressed him coldly from above:

“Song Xing was executed by my own hand. So, by your words, am I framing him?”

The man’s cold gaze bore down from above.

Below, Song Yufeng’s mouth still bled, crushed beneath the relentless pressure.

It was only when Song Li shared the weight that Yufeng could finally catch his breath.

“Elder Zhihao, Uncle Yufeng just lost his grandson—of course he’s emotional. But you’re pushing it too far!”

Zhihao’s eyes narrowed, tension gripping the entire mine.

After a silent moment, Zhihao eventually retracted his aura and spoke again.

“Enough—there’s solid evidence. Report back and stop lingering here.”

With that, his body pulsed with energy as he turned to leave.

But Song Yufeng, straining, managed to speak once more:

“The family’s overrun by fat rats! Elder, we beg for justice!”