"He's lucky he was only demoted to a fleet, allowing him to retain a shred of dignity. That is already immense good fortune!"
He paused, the flattery in his tone becoming increasingly blatant.
"Ultimately, he should be grateful to the noble lords of the Senate for showing mercy and leaving him a way out!"
These words were like a blunt knife, hacking brutally into the hearts of the other staff officers.
The anger on their faces intensified instantly as they glared at Sharp. Compared to the insults General Strauss received from outsiders, they loathed this kind of betrayal from one of their own. It was no different from a fatal stab in the back—despicable and nauseating.
However, Sharp completely ignored those cold, furious gazes, as if everything he said was only natural. He continued his grandiloquent speech, his voice growing louder.
"Furthermore, how can Commander Raphael's actions be called a risk? This is clearly a brilliant strategy conceived from a position of absolute control!"
He suddenly extended his finger, pointing at the staff officers one by one. His tone was filled with disdain and mockery.
"Do any of you understand tactical simulation? Do you understand what it means to deliberately expose a flaw to lure the snake out of its hole?"
The simulation room fell into a dead silence; only Sharp's voice echoed, sounding exceptionally grating.
Seeing this, Sharp turned around. Looking at Raphael once more, his face was instantly plastered with a fawning smile.
"The reason Commander Raphael did not station a Sequence Fleet in the Bedros System..."
He paused deliberately, emphasizing his words.
"...was precisely to intentionally expose a flaw, leading the Federation Fleet to mistakenly believe that this is our weak point in defense, and that they could easily invade the Opal Star Sector from here."
Sharp paused again before continuing.
"Once the Federation Fleet bites the bait we've intentionally thrown out and rashly attacks from the Bedros System, the Imperial Fleet stationed in the Okara System will immediately move to intercept and pin them down!"
"Meanwhile, the Imperial main fleet in the Bushman System will take the opportunity to outflank them from the rear, completely cutting off their route of retreat and forming an encirclement!"
His finger traced a sharp arc across the star chart, firmly circling the Bedros System, a glint of pride flashing in his eyes.
"By then, they'll have nowhere to run!"
"Even if they see through the ruse and choose to invade through the Machu Picchu and Saborne Systems!"
He shifted his tone, yet remained assertive.
"They would similarly suffer a pincer attack from the Savis and Bushman Systems, gaining absolutely nothing!"
Sharp withdrew his hand and looked at Raphael with shining eyes. The fawning on his face was almost overflowing, his tone full of sycophancy.
"It can be said that the entire Opal Star Sector has been forged into an iron fortress by Commander Raphael! No matter which direction the Federation Fleet attacks from, they will only bash their heads bloody. They will suffer a head-on blow from our Imperial Fleet and eventually be completely annihilated!"
As he finished speaking, the simulation room fell into a brief silence. Everyone remained quiet, their expressions varying.
Raphael leaned back in his chair, a slow smile creeping onto the corners of his mouth. His eyes were filled with the satisfaction of self-importance. Sharp's words had accurately interpreted his operational intent.
He spoke slowly, his tone carrying a hint of satisfaction.
"Your name is Sharp, right?"
As he spoke, his gaze instinctively swept over Sharp's epaulettes. A silver bar adorned with two gold stars—the standard military rank of a Colonel.
Sharp nodded vigorously, his face full of anticipation and flattery. He leaned forward slightly, appearing ready to listen to any word.
Raphael slowly stood up and walked with steady steps to Sharp's side, looking down at him.
In the next second.
Rip!
Two crisp tearing sounds rang out. Raphael grabbed the two Colonel epaulettes on Sharp's shoulders and yanked them hard, ripping the epaulettes directly off the military uniform.
Sharp was stunned, his eyes filled with bewilderment. The other staff officers present were equally stunned, their eyes widening.
Raphael tossed the two torn epaulettes onto the table. He raised his hand and lightly patted Sharp's shoulder.
"Go to the logistics department later and collect a pair of Brigadier epaulettes."
He paused and added, "I will have the official document appointing you as a Brigadier issued later."
Sharp froze for a second before the bewilderment on his face slowly faded. In its place came an extreme ecstasy. He reacted violently, bowing his back in a posture of utmost humility.
"Thank you, Commander! Thank you for the promotion! I shall never forget your great kindness, Commander!"
"From now on, whether it be climbing mountains of swords or wading through seas of fire, I am willing to give my life for the Commander without hesitation!"
Raphael nodded with satisfaction, a glint of pride in his eyes. This was exactly what he wanted: absolute obedience and sycophancy.
He slowly turned around, his gaze sweeping over the still-silent staff officers. A cold sneer curled his lips.
"What are you all standing around for?"
He waved his hand, his voice suddenly rising with a strong sense of oppression.
"Hurry up and notify the various fleets to closely monitor their respective defensive zones. We must not let that wretched Pluto Fleet slip into our rear again!"
Some time later, in the boundary airspace of the Machu Picchu System.
Dense Imperial Patrol Fleets, like a swarm of ants following orders, shuttled back and forth through the airspace of the system's border. They had woven a surveillance network so tight that not a single gap remained.
Compared to the patrol density during the Battle of the Bushman System, the vigilance here had increased at least fivefold. Every inch of airspace was repeatedly inspected. Even drifting meteorites were scanned at least three times by the patrol ships' detectors.
Malen Patrol Wing, 103rd Patrol Squad.
Five small Imperial patrol ships sailed slowly through the cold void of space, maintaining a loose but alert formation.
Inside the bridge of the flagship, the lights were dim. The air was filled with a pungent mixture of the faint scent of energy potions and sweat.
Every crew member, including Captain Brody Field, had heavy dark circles under their eyes. Those bluish bags were so thick it looked as if someone had smeared them with heavy ink. The skin beneath their eyes was slack and sagging, betraying a bone-deep exhaustion.
Captain Brody Field slumped in the command chair, his back hunched, his entire body radiating a sense of depletion.
Mechanically, he reached out and picked up a tube of shimmering blue energy potion from the corner of the desk. Without a moment's hesitation, he tilted his head and drank it all in one gulp.
The moment the potion hit his throat, a surge of scorching warmth swept through his body. His face, previously pale as paper, instantly flushed an unnatural red, as if scorched by fire.
His pupils dilated abruptly, and a brief flash of excitement flickered in his eyes. His cheeks tightened, and he forced a strange, stiff smile. That smile came quickly and vanished even faster, like a shooting star.
In a short while, the brief euphoria of the potion completely faded, and his face was once again covered by profound fatigue.
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