Although the other officers on the bridge remained silent, some of their eyes revealed similar sentiments.
Qin Bei Wang's rapid promotion and the resources allocated to him had indeed sparked considerable criticism and covert resentment among some traditional officers in the Federation.
Nie Xinghe listened to his adjutant's complaints before slowly turning around.
His face showed no anger, only the calmness of someone who had weathered storms.
"Finished?" he asked in a flat tone.
Zhou Junfeng stiffened his neck and fell silent, though traces of defiance lingered on his face.
Nie Xinghe took in Adjutant Zhou Junfeng's grievances and the similar emotions reflected in the eyes of the surrounding officers.
Instead of reprimanding them like ordinary soldiers, he turned to face everyone. His voice was not loud, yet it carried the weight unique to a fleet commander, tempered by experience.
"Complaints end here," he said, his gaze sweeping over Zhou Junfeng and the others.
"Soldiers' primary duty is to obey orders. The Theater Command's directive has been issued, and our task is to execute it. Doubts and complaints won't change the order; they only undermine morale and delay critical opportunities."
He spoke these words solemnly and impeccably.
The murmurs and discontent on the bridge quickly subsided as the officers straightened their postures once more.
But only Nie Xinghe himself knew that beneath these words, his own heart was not entirely calm.
At forty-seven years old, he had served in the fleet for twenty-five years since graduating from the military academy, participating in over a dozen battles of varying scales. He had risen from a trainee officer to a Senior Colonel commanding a main force Classified Fleet.
One more step up would mean the rank of Brigadier General, symbolized by a military star—a true senior commander capable of independently commanding a mother-class fleet and overseeing a star domain.
This had been his goal for many years, a step that seemed within reach yet always just out of grasp.
And now, a "junior" of twenty-two, whose military service might not even match the operational history of some of his ships, was not only about to be promoted to Lieutenant Colonel due to astonishing military merit but had also been appointed as the commander of a Classified Fleet.
He was even assigned a stellar carrier.
In just a few months, Qin Bei Wang had traversed the path Nie Xinghe had walked over twenty-five years, surpassing him in both rank and actual command authority.
To claim there was no ripple of emotion, no trace of complexity in his heart, would be false.
As a human, it was natural to compare, to feel resentment, to have moments of wondering "why him?"
Seniority, experience, years of steady and diligent effort—these traditional values seemed pale and powerless in the face of the other's meteoric rise and dazzlingly brilliant achievements.
But Nie Xinghe was even more aware of his own identity and responsibilities.
He was the commander of the Balrog Fleet, the backbone of these thousands of officers and soldiers.
Everyone beneath him was watching him. His emotions, his attitude, would directly affect the morale of the entire fleet and the determination with which they carried out their mission.
Personal emotions, not worth mentioning to outsiders, had to be firmly locked away, crushed, and digested in the face of military duty and the needs of the battlefield. Not a trace could be revealed.
He couldn't complain recklessly like Zhou Junfeng.
He had to demonstrate absolute obedience, professionalism, and a broad perspective.
Forcing down the complex emotions in his heart, Nie Xinghe's face regained its usual calm and decisiveness.
He no longer paid attention to those subtle fluctuations, turning and walking toward the command console.
"Communications officer!"
He ordered clearly.
"Connect to the command channels of the Snow Leopard, Divine Arrow, and Swift Cavalry fleets. Encryption level: maximum."
A few seconds later, the connection was established.
"This is Nie Xinghe.
By the latest order from the Wanshi Star Sector Theater Command, the mission for our unit and your three fleets—four fleets in total—has changed.
Immediately cease current status. Form a 'Spear' assault formation with 'Balrog' as the vanguard, 'Snow Leopard' on the left wing, 'Divine Arrow' on the right wing, and 'Swift Cavalry' as the rearguard.
Target: the outer reaches of the Savannah Star System, the L-5 alert line.
Navigation speed: second combat speed.
Mission: Advance into the Savannah Star System and seek opportunities to rendezvous with the friendly 'Pluto' sub-fleet."
"All ships, execute immediately.
Maintain open communications and synchronize enemy intelligence and route information at all times."
The command was concise and forceful, transmitted via the encrypted channel to the other three friendly fleets.
No unnecessary words, no questioning—only the pure transmission of the mission.
After cutting the communication, Nie Xinghe watched the tactical screen as the icons of the friendly fleets began adjusting their courses and converging. He then glanced at the distant star chart, at the light point representing the Savannah Star System.
He completely sealed away his personal emotions, immersing himself fully in the role of commander.
Meanwhile.
Federal Joint Staff, Supreme Strategic Simulation Hall.
Inside the vast circular hall, the lighting was soft, but the atmosphere was solemn, almost frozen.
Seated around the central holographic star map table were high-ranking officers, all uniformly bearing gold epaulettes and silver military stars.
Their faces were resolute, steady, or marked by scars left by time—each wrinkle seemed to record the smoke of some past battle.
Their decisions were enough to influence the fate of the entire star domain theater.
At this moment, they were engaged in a frenzied simulation.
After all, the intelligence submitted by the FCB was truly astonishing.
They simply couldn't imagine how the Pluto Fleet had managed to achieve such battle reports.
It was utterly incomprehensible.
In their simulations, they found it almost impossible to detect the movements of the Imperial Fleet without being discovered.
Even breaking through the Savannah Star System had become a problem.
Once caught by the Obsidian Fleet, they would face encirclement and suppression from the Bloodblade Fleet and the Iron Curtain Fleet.
Even with two T5-class battleships, one stellar carrier, and a thousand Swift fighters, they would be worn down by sheer numbers under the encirclement of an Imperial Fleet of nearly three hundred starships.
The intense tactical simulation had reached a deadlock. Faced with battle achievements that couldn't be replicated no matter how they simulated, the atmosphere in the hall grew increasingly tense.
At this moment, General Lü Yanlin, the Chief of Staff seated beside the head of the table and responsible for maintaining order during the meeting, raised his hand and gently but clearly tapped the smooth alloy tabletop.
"Gentlemen!"
His voice was steady, carrying a tone that put an end to further debate.
"The tactical simulation can be discussed in more detail later.
For now, we need to first deliberate and form preliminary opinions on the proposal from General Wen Tingtao, Commander of the Myriad Stones Star Domain Theater—regarding the promotion of Lieutenant Colonel Qin Beiwang and the recommendation for fleet expansion.
This concerns frontline morale, resource allocation, and... the direction of cultivating our Federation's future senior commanders."
His gaze swept over his colleagues seated along both sides of the long table, their epaulettes gleaming.
As his words fell, an old general with four military stars on his shoulders, a stern face, and deep nasolabial folds—General Ruan Xingwei—was the first to speak.
His voice was resonant, carrying the weight of a seasoned soldier's particular regard for tradition and order.
"Chief of Staff Lü, Commander Wen's eagerness to cherish talent is understandable.
The results of Qin Beiwang's battle are indeed astonishing."
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