The charging sound of Iron Spine's main cannon synchronized with the Pluto Fleet.
Every ship in the Uranus Fleet that could still fire turned their gun barrels toward the coordinates Qin Bei Wang had called out.
When the countdown reached zero, twenty-four energy beams shot toward the third coordinate like a precisely orchestrated symphony of death.
But this time, in the final second before the volley fired, Qin Bei Wang added:
"The target is executing emergency evasion, turning 15 degrees to port, accelerating to 45,000 kilometers per second. Adjust actual aiming point to: azimuth 046, elevation -7.5, distance 601,800 kilometers."
The cannons fired.
Three seconds later, explosions lit up at the adjusted coordinates.
"Artillery impact confirmed," reported the sensor officer, voice finally trembling. "Three battleships under Welles' Direct Fleet confirmed destroyed. They were indeed executing emergency evasion maneuvers... direction and speed exactly as Commander Qin predicted."
Even breathing sounds disappeared from the communication channel.
Everyone understood now.
This wasn't blind guessing. This wasn't gambling.
This was... clairvoyance.
In the darkness that had blinded everyone else, only Qin Bei Wang possessed complete vision.
Zhao Rui stared through the observation window at the all-consuming darkness outside, feeling a chill crawl up his spine.
He remembered all his previous contempt, mockery, and doubts toward Qin Bei Wang...
Then he activated the fleet-wide communication, his voice hoarse but firm:
"All ships of Uranus Fleet, from this moment forward, completely obey Captain Qin Bei Wang's command. When he calls coordinates, we fire. When he points direction, we charge."
He paused, then added:
"Because this kid... can really fucking see things we can't."
Meanwhile, on the other side of the smoke screen, aboard the Imperial Glory's bridge, Wells was descending into complete panic.
"Two flagships... twelve starships precisely destroyed within sixty seconds..." Wells stared at the three important markers that had vanished from the tactical screen, his voice trembling. "How... how are they aiming in this darkness? This is impossible!"
His adjutant looked pale. "Commander, should we... stop advancing? This smoke screen is too strange. The Federation might have deployed some detection system we don't know about..."
"Stop advancing?" Wells whirled around, eyes bloodshot. "The Iron Fist main force of forty-nine ships is behind us! The warp point is ahead! Stopping means death!"
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down, though his fingers still trembled uncontrollably.
"Order the entire fleet... disperse formation! We can't let flagships remain targets! All ships execute free maneuvers! Escape individually once we breach the warp point!"
The command spread through the panic.
But it was already too late.
Because Qin Bei Wang's fourth set of coordinates had already been called.
This time, the target wasn't a specific flagship.
It was the most densely packed core region of the entire Imperial Fleet formation.
"Area between azimuth 041 to 048, elevation -6 to -9, distance 600,000 to 800,000 kilometers."
"All missile units, full volley launch. Execute area saturation strike."
Thirty seconds later, over three hundred missiles shrieked from the depths of the smoke screen, surging forth like a death swarm emerging from a dark nest, descending upon the Imperial Fleet that was attempting to disperse.
Under the cover of these missiles, the muzzles of 24 main cannons had already silently turned toward their next predetermined prey.
The hunt had only just begun.
Inside the bridge of the Imperial Glory.
Wells had just issued his third emergency evasion command.
"Hard left rudder! Engines at full reverse thrust! All shield energy concentrate to starboard!"
Wells' voice was hoarse, his eyes fixed on the red warning zone indicating "incoming missiles" on the tactical screen.
Over 300 missiles were surging from the smoke screen like sharks drawn to blood, their trajectories weaving a net of death across the sensor displays.
Outside the hull, 372 laser close-in defense systems were operating at maximum capacity. Blazing white beams swept silently through the vacuum, detonating missiles thousands of kilometers away. Explosions flared one after another, creating a brief but deadly ring of fireworks around the Imperial Glory.
But there were too many missiles.
The thirty-seventh missile broke through the point defense network, impacting the starboard shield.
The shield flickered violently, energy readings plummeting by 14%.
The forty-second and forty-third missiles struck the same area in quick succession.
The shield overload alarm screamed urgently.
"Starboard shield collapse!" the engineering chief's voice was desperate. "Backup shield generator requires twelve seconds to activate—"
At that moment, Qin Bei Wang's fourth set of coordinates echoed through the internal channel shared by the Pluto and Uranus Fleets:
"Azimuth 044, elevation -6.2, range 788,000 kilometers. Target is Imperial flagship [Imperial Glory] battleship. All main cannon units, full power volley in five seconds. Repeat, full power."
When they heard the target was the Wells Fleet's flagship, the Imperial Glory, everyone held their breath.
An indescribable excitement rose from deep within.
The five-second countdown began.
Wells remained completely unaware.
His entire attention was focused on the continuing missile barrage.
The sixty-eighth missile was destroyed, while the seventy-fifth and seventy-sixth simultaneously broke through, striking the freshly restored backup shields.
"Shield strength remaining at 41%!" the engineering chief roared.
"Emergency port turn completed!" the navigation officer reported. "We're clearing the missile engagement zone..."
Before the words faded.
From the deepest reaches of the smoke screen in distant space, 24 points of light ignited simultaneously.
These weren't the faint blue glow of missile engines, but the stellar-birth intensity of main cannons reaching critical charge.
The next second, 24 energy beams.
Two "Sky-Opening" class heavy particle cannons from Kunlun Mountain, four main cannons from Scorpion, two each from two Scorpion-class cruisers, four from Thunder and Lightning, one each from six destroyers, two from Iron Spine, and a combined 24 from the remaining nine escort ships of the Uranus Fleet.
Like twenty-six blades of judgment crossing the void, they tore through the smoke screen with perfect synchronization, all converging on the same coordinates.
The Imperial Glory.
In that instant, time seemed to freeze.
Wells was the first to notice the anomaly.
The instinct honed on the brink of life and death made him jerk his head up 0.3 seconds before the main cannon beam traversed 788,000 kilometers.
Through the observation window, he saw twenty-four deadly points of light abruptly ignite in the darkness.
He watched them rapidly expand into twenty-four pure destructive energy beams, each over five meters in diameter.
He saw their straight trajectories—like twenty-four chains—locking down all evasion routes for the Imperial Glory.
Then, he heard the final sound escape his throat.
Not a word, not a sentence.
But a sigh.
A sigh of ultimate exhaustion, as if finally surrendering to fate.