CHAPTER 38: CH 38 SUPREME COMMANDER

He appeared to be standing on the command deck of the Oblivion. His posture was upright, composed, and dignified.

He was the first to speak.

"Good day to you, Mr. William," Grand Admiral John Watcher began, his voice calm and composed. "Allow me to thank you—on behalf of the Human Federation—for your timely intervention and the rescue of the Red Horizon fleet. You didn’t have to act... but you did. And for that, the Federation is deeply grateful."

After finishing his words, John gave a slight bow—not deep, but just enough to convey respect. Though a man of his rank didn’t need to bow to anyone, he still chose to.

Because he wanted to make something clear: this is how the Federation treated those who had done it a true service. And what William had done was no small matter.

If the Red Horizon fleet—Admiral Kevin’s research fleet—had been destroyed, the Federation would have likely lost control of the Nova Star System, a critical region rich with Tier-6 resources and containing multiple Tier-6 planets.

Even worse, the Null Vril Disruptor, a Tier-6 electromagnetic suppression device designed to block all forms of signal transmission between insectoid hive minds, would have been lost. That alone could have invited disaster.

Now, the danger wasn’t because the device couldn’t be recreated or because it was the only one in existence—far from it. The real threat was that if this device were captured by the insectoid race, they would inevitably analyze it and develop a countermeasure.

That alone would nullify one of the Federation’s greatest strategic advantages, potentially turning future battles into disasters.

It wasn’t like the Federation was unaware of such risks—they had accounted for this possibility. But the probability of it happening was always considered low.

That’s because fleets carrying such high-value equipment were usually heavily armed, well-defended, and capable of either pushing through enemy lines or retreating safely even under dire circumstances.

However, Kevin’s Red Horizon fleet was different. It wasn’t a pure war fleet—it was a hybrid of research and military assets. As a result, it lacked the full firepower and defensive capabilities to either fight its way out or retreat safely.

And in their situation, attempting to flee would have only reduced casualties in the short term—at the cost of losing the Null Vril Disruptor and dooming the long-term strategy.

This device had been activated by Admiral Kevin the moment the insectoid fleet appeared in the Nova System. He knew that the insectoid race operated under a vast hive mind, led by highly intelligent queens.

And when threatened, those queens didn’t hesitate to call for reinforcements—often summoning entire Tier-6-level hive fleets. If that had happened, it would’ve triggered widespread chaos and destruction, potentially beyond even the Federation’s control.

Even if reinforcements had arrived in time, they likely wouldn’t have been able to prevent the devastation. The insectoid queens were relentless.

Even if reinforcements had arrived in time, they likely wouldn’t have been able to prevent the devastation. The insectoid queens were relentless—and once they assembled, they would have been unstoppable.

After all, the Nova Star System was rich in resources, exactly the kind they craved to absorb and evolve themselves. Once gathered, their fleets would have swarmed the system, stripped it bare, and left behind nothing but a lifeless dead zone.

Even if reinforcements had arrived in time, they likely wouldn’t have been able to stop the devastation—it would have already been too late. Destroying the insectoid fleet responsible for the Red Horizon Fleet’s destruction wouldn’t have made a difference, as more would inevitably follow.

Worse still, any overt military action by the Federation would have undoubtedly drawn the attention of the Alline Alliance—a powerful coalition already locked in a prolonged and bloody war with the Federation.

Had they caught wind of the situation, they would have seized the opportunity, intensifying their war efforts upon learning that one of the Federation’s main fleets was actively engaged. They would have exploited that moment of vulnerability without hesitation.

Such an escalation wouldn’t have resulted in just immediate losses; it could have triggered a catastrophic chain reaction—costing countless lives, devastating equipment, possibly leading to the loss of more star regions, and further crippling the Federation’s ability to recover.

John knew this.

That’s why William’s intervention wasn’t just appreciated. It was monumental.

And with William’s additional promise of gifting advanced technology—a practical version of Tier-7 tech—John’s respect had only deepened. His words, his gesture, and his tone carried not just diplomacy but sincere gratitude.

William simply smiled and said, "There’s no need for you to say all that, Grand Admiral John."

The moment William spoke his name, John blinked slightly—not outwardly surprised, but clearly caught off-guard. He hadn’t introduced himself. Nor, as far as he remembered, had Kevin mentioned his full name during their brief exchange prior to the call.

But then, like a switch flipping in his mind, John remembered something Kevin had casually mentioned earlier—something that now seemed far more serious, and true.

Though still a bit unbelievable to John.

Ignoring that he focused on what Kevin had told him earlier.

Kevin had said that William certainly possessed the capability to hack into their ship systems and potentially gain access to the Federation’s internal networks. It wasn’t speculation; William himself had admitted as much.

In fact, Kevin had even warned that William likely already knew more about the Federation’s inner workings than most high-ranking officials... perhaps even more than John himself—simply by gaining access through their own internal systems.

He wanted to say something about it—but held back. William hadn’t finished speaking yet.

William, of course, had noticed the subtle reaction. Though John masked it well, it didn’t escape his perception. His smile widened slightly, a faint glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

"What I did," William continued, "was simply the natural thing to do. I’m human too, after all. I couldn’t just stand by and watch fellow humans—strangers or not—fall to the insectoid race... or to any race, for that matter."

He glanced calmly at the screen, then added, "Admiral Kevin has already thanked me. I’ve already asked for my reward. So, Grand Admiral, you really didn’t need to bow like that."

John let out a low breath and commented with a small smile, "Mr. William... you certainly possess abilities—far more than you’re openly showing."

He didn’t say it directly, but the implication was clear: William had known his name without being told. That alone spoke volumes.

William, being himself, just gave a casual shrug and replied with his usual calm, "I do, Grand Admiral."

John nodded slowly, acknowledging the response before shifting the topic with a more refined, serious tone.

"Be that as it may, Mr. William... Kevin’s gratitude and my gratitude are not the same." His expression became firm, composed. "They come from different places."

William immediately understood the meaning beneath those words. Kevin, while certainly a high-ranking officer, didn’t have the authority to formally represent the Federation. But John did. As one of the highest-tier officials, his gratitude wasn’t just personal—it was official, weighty, and politically meaningful.

William’s lips curved into a knowing smile. "That, I can certainly agree with."

Seeing that William understood perfectly, John continued on, "Even if you already know much about me, given your... capabilities, allow me the formality of introducing myself properly."

Though his tone remained composed, the underlying message was clear: John knew William had the ability to breach their systems, and the thought disturbed him deeply. Yet he couldn’t protest—not because he didn’t want to, but because...

How could anyone stand firm in the face of that—a ship he no longer perceived as a mere construct of metal and technology, but as something far more terrifying?

To John, William’s vessel wasn’t a warship. It was a beast—a divine beast. Not divine in the religious sense, but something primal and transcendent, an existence that defied logic, morality, and reason.

It reminded him of the Federation Guardians—the Divine Pilots and their god-mechas—beings and machines that had long since surpassed the boundaries of what mortals could understand. And just like them, William’s ship emanated the same overwhelming presence, as if it were alive...

And John couldn’t bring himself to be aggressive. He could only acknowledge the truth and proceed with caution.

He straightened slightly, his tone calm and proud.

"I am John Watcher, one of the Federation’s Tier-1 officials and a Grand Admiral. It is an honor to formally speak with you, Mr. William."

William responded with a courteous smile, his tone warm yet composed.

"The honor is all mine, Grand Admiral John—to meet someone of your caliber, both in command and in the respect you command within the Federation... or so your own data records seem to suggest."

John let out a brief cough, not entirely subtle. William immediately caught the cue. With a light chuckle and a shake of his head, he realized he had sidestepped the formality expected of him.

"Right," he said, straightening slightly, "Allow me to properly introduce myself."

His voice took on a deeper resonance, calm but carrying weight.

"I am William Velhert, Supreme Commander of the Terra Naval Forces... and, at the same time, the youngest Archduke of the Terra Empire."