Chapter 327

Chapter 327: Marcel’s Threat

In his estimation, the discovery of the forward base should have taken several months. Yet after just a month-long mental trial, this emergency arose—proof that the Blue Truth Sect’s control over the Star Ocean exceeded his expectations.

The possibility of a traitor within their ranks or Blood Purification intentionally leaking information to the sect headquarters couldn’t be ruled out.

Regardless of the cause, protecting the forward base became urgent. Without it, Midi’s faction would be like rootless weeds, unable to establish themselves in the Star Ocean.

Fortunately, Midi had prepared for this.

A commander must always plan for the worst.

He’d even considered scenarios like “colliding with the sect headquarters’ fleet immediately upon entering the Star Ocean.” Compared to that, facing a siege after building some strength hardly warranted panic.

Starting the war earlier than expected wasn’t impossible to handle.

Moreover, Midi was no longer the newcomer who’d first entered the Star Ocean, vulnerable to mind-related abilities.

Having inherited the Sea Emperor’s legacy and unlocked the path to becoming a Ruler of Psychic Energy, he now held the ultimate weapon against Heart-Seizing Demons.

“Lord Marcel,” Midi said firmly, “with our enemies approaching, I request permission to return to my base and resolve this crisis. We can settle our disagreements about the mental trial after the battle. Surely you prioritize the bigger picture?”

After all, the sect headquarters remained their greatest shared enemy.

But Midi hadn’t anticipated how far the famed “Judge” Marcel would go for that bigger picture.

“Mr. Midi,” Marcel replied with a mild smile, his earlier aggressive demeanor nowhere to be seen, “as allies against a common foe, Blood Purification’s fleet will join yours. We face this together.”

The answer surprised Midi, but he nodded calmly. “Thank you. Let’s depart immediately.”

“Blood Purification thrives in crises. The fleet will assemble within an hour,” Marcel declared.

With both leaders in agreement, dissenters fell silent. After brief discussions, the groups dispersed to prepare.

Once alone, Sandur protested bitterly, “Master, why let outsiders profit? The legendary Thought Capturer heritage could elevate Blood Purification’s power!”

Though only Midi knew the heritage’s true nature, Sandur’s claim held weight. As the trial’s runner-up, his own top-tier Thought Capturer heritage had already impressed their higher-ups. Midi’s display of psychic energy pressure further proved the prize’s value.

Even Shelly, typically silent, nodded in rare agreement. Though opposites in temperament, both young elites struggled to accept their crushing defeat against a human youth—even with their master’s secret treasures.

Judge Marcel smiled cryptically. “Midi responds better to honey than vinegar. Let him fight until his forces bleed. When he begs for aid, that’s when we’ll claim our dues.”

“Brilliant!” Sandur’s eyes gleamed at the thought of Midi’s humiliation.

“Now prepare thoroughly,” Marcel ordered, his humor vanishing. “The sect headquarters demands our full strength.”

Within the hour, Blood Purification’s fleet departed Blood Hell Island—six Wind Tooth Destroyers slicing through the air. These streamlined sky warships, resembling winged knight spears with sixty-meter wingspans and seventy-meter hulls, excelled at high-speed aerial combat. Their natural rivals were the sect’s Poison Sting Destroyers.

Midi abandoned plans to lead in his engineering vessel. Knowing the coming battle’s fury, he boarded Marcel’s flagship instead.

Sandur, Shelly, and the leader of the Execution Team, the Scarred Man, were all aboard this flagship. The moment Midi stepped onto the deck, hostile glares immediately pierced him again.

But how could such petty hostility affect Midi? He wasn’t just a warrior—he was a commander.

Brushing past the trial participants he’d expelled, Midi swiftly briefed the Blood Purification fleet and mapped out the optimal route to the forward base.

The man knew the Star Ocean shockingly well!

Marcel and the others exchanged glances, silently raising their opinion of Midi. This wasn’t merely a Demon Swordman with flying skills or a lucky Legendary Thought Capturer. Here stood someone who might shift the tides of large-scale aerial combat itself.

At last, Blood Purification’s higher-ups realized Midi’s energy wasn’t just about personal power.

Days blurred by until the fleet reached the forward base’s airspace. Against sect headquarters’ forces, merging with the base’s defenses made sense—yet explosions already lit the distant gloom when they arrived.

Though separated by vast distance, the fiery bursts pierced the starry darkness. No telescopes needed.

The sect headquarters fleet had clashed with Midi’s base. Through lenses, the truth sharpened: the base was losing badly.

Expected. With alchemist Emil in charge and no real aerial commanders present, how could floating island defenses rival poison needle warships? The Wind King Warship, their only true Skyship, ferried goods between Sea of Clouds and Star Ocean—nowhere near the battle.

Sturdy defenses bought time, but three days without reinforcements would’ve doomed the base.

“Lord Marcel—” Midi turned to the fleet’s true commander.

Marcel smiled. “Patience. The battle’s unclear. Observe first, then plan. My thought? Let the sect headquarters exhaust themselves attacking your base. We’ll flank them unseen!”

Reinhardt’s face darkened. Avril’s gaze frosted over.

If this slaughter was “unclear,” what qualified as obvious? Flanking without cover in open Star Ocean? Laughable.

Marcel’s smooth words meant one thing: he wouldn’t fight. Not yet.

He’d park his fleet just beyond the carnage, letting Midi watch his base crumble and warriors die—until desperation forced the commander to beg. Then, everything from the Mind Maze trial would become Blood Purification’s loot. More: Marcel would extort Midi’s faction into subservience, swapping alliance for vassalage.

From the start, Marcel never saw these outsiders as equals. They were tools—sources of knowledge, fresh blood, resources. Only Blood Purification could defeat the sect headquarters. Only they deserved to uphold Leslie’s legacy.

How long can you stay calm?

Marcel glanced at the unflappable human youth beside him, savoring the mental image of that composure shattering. Satisfaction warmed his heart.