Chapter 438: War

A predicament—Bakedu, the leader of the Protoss, was caught in a two-way predicament.

He was enveloped in immense pressure as a situation he had never expected emerged before him.

The safety and destiny of 1.2 billion Protoss were in the hands of the more than a dozen high officials under his leadership. If he mishandled this, he was likely to become a sinner among the Protoss, and would be faced with severe punishment. After all, the Protoss were not rocks, nor plants that could undergo photosynthesis. Similar to any carbon-based organisms, they needed to eat, drink, and replenish their energy with food. The greater the intensity of their cultivation, the more they would need to eat; even the Protoss of lower orders consumed everyday meals which would be equivalent to three to five for ordinary people. If they did not eat or drink for a long time, they would also starve to death and die of thirst, no differently from human beings.

Moreover, aside from eating, they would extremely disoriented when they lost things that they had taken for granted before. For example, after the electricity supply was cut off, electric lights no longer lit up, and all kinds of household appliances became mere furnishings. Their civilization instantly regressed by a thousand years. Furthermore, after the network was cut off, many programs, TV series, novels or games could no longer be watched or played, causing their mental life to suddenly feel lacking. Finally, the transportation that had extended in all directions became fully impaired, and convenient forms of travel instantly disappeared. They lost their cell phone signals for mutual communication, online payments, developed business systems, incredibly varied and graceful social activities, and much more.

They lost everything mentioned above!

After the comprehensive sanctions were initialized, it all quickly disappeared, leaving only a few broadcast channels in service. At the moment when the lockdown began, the entire Protoss residential zone quickly plummeted into massive chaos; they were not ready for the transition, and felt as if the end of the world had arrived. Even Bakedu and the other high officials felt extremely uncomfortable.

“Where’s my internet?”

“Where’s my electricity?”

“How dare those puny ants?!”

Then, there was the ultimatum issued by the Terrans. Apologize, and the sanctions would be lifted. If there was no apology, then…

“We can only grant them a quick demise.”

“Fight them! Slaughter all those damned monkeys!”

“We have already shown mercy by not killing them all. Now, they dare ask us to apologize? Cursed rabbits!”

“What is even more abhorrent is that, in order to force an apology out of us, they have bound up our fate with other billions of Protoss. Atrocious!” A high official of the Protoss slammed the table, appearing to have been brought to anger by shame.

But, in fact, they were tough only in their words. In the bottom of their hearts, a common voice spoke out: We messed up. Their actions on that day had, indeed, been a little too reckless. They had spelled great trouble for the billions of their kind in a single moment. If the lockdown were to persist, they themselves would not encounter any problems, but more than one billion Protoss would have absolutely no way to live normally.

An all-out war had yet to begin, but they were already facing huge internal mayhem. Everyone was a little regretful—why had they acted so impulsively and not prepared more in advance? Besides, it was clear to them that, if they were to clash with the humans under the current circumstances, they might sustain heavy losses and gain nothing at all.

So… should they apologize?

Just a faint “sorry” would put an end to this farce.

But how could the powerful and noble Protoss apologize to mere ants?

There was no word such as “sorry” in the Protoss’ dictionary. Even the thought of the word itself would render Bakedu and the rest of the Protoss in a flush.

They couldn’t forgo their pride before the powerless Terrans. But, similarly, they could not bear to jeopardize the safety of billions of their kind.

“As matters stand, I must bear the consequences of my own act.”

Bakedu’s mind worked around the clock, and, ultimately, he thought of a plan.

…

“A duel? You plan to put an end to this dispute with a duel?”

Communicating through the contact info that had been intentionally left behind, Federal President Fang Xiuping expressed slight surprise. “What will be the setup for it?”

“The eighteen of us were responsible for the incident. Hence, we shall be the ones to solve this problem. None of the innocent should be implicated.

Bakedu continued, “Set up a battlefield. I and the other seventeen Protoss superiors shall participate in the battle. As for you Terrans, you are allowed to deploy no more than 1,800 corps.

“We will allow your elites to work with any equipment and to use any tricks.

“This single match will be in a one-versus-a-hundred setting. The party that has all of their forces defeated will be the loser, while the one that has survivors will be deemed the winner.

“If the Protoss emerge as the victors, you Terrans will become our slaves and abide by every one of our orders. If you humans win, besting all of our 18 superiors, both sides will set the incident that happened a few days ago behind them. You Terrans will thus be on par with the Protoss—we will be on equal footing.

“On the other hand, we won’t need to apologize, either. Our death will be the best apology.

“What do you think? Are you up for a duel? This is the best way to prevent needless injuries to both our races—a solution via a small-scale combat. In these few days, I think perhaps that the reason your side imposed sanctions instead of initiating a war against us is to avoid excessive casualties, as well.

After all, this is a civilized era. Total war and genocidal warfare are too bloody and cruel, and their destructive power too immense. Even the Protoss do not dare to be involved in such wars.”

“A small-scale, duel-like combat?” Fang Xiuping muttered to himself. “18 from the Protoss and 1800 from us… A ratio of one to a hundred… Allowed to use all kinds of weapons…

“It would keep the destruction to a minimum. A thousand potential casualties in place of the massacre of hundreds of millions or even billions of people.

“It seems that this is indeed a better solution.”

Fang Xiuping was a little tempted, wanting to assent to this sort of “team wrestling.”

Warfare was atrocious in the extreme! There was no doubt about that. Countless families would be displaced, an untold amount of assets would vanish, trillions of tragedies would result, and they might even plunge into a vicious circle, where hatred would become more and more intense until one party succumbed completely. Smart and rational people ought to try their best to avoid combat and to ward off those war hawks, he reflected… the pain caused by war was far more intense than that inflicted by the weapons of words.

If there was an opportunity before him to solve the problem a better way, Fang Xiuping felt that he had to try to grasp it in order to avoid being condemned as a villain through the ages… even if humanity was, right now, in possession of a certain advantage.

But there were, at least, tens of billions of Protoss over in the Heavenly Realm. Their total population was no less than that of the Earth Federation. It would be impossible to eliminate all of them… Moreover, “Sages” that could blow up an entire planet still existed among the Protoss.

On the other hand, the universe was infinitely vast. There was still an abundance of free resources. Thus, it was really not necessary to place an entire civilization at stake and commit to a fight to the death.

“Fine. Let me discuss it with the others.”

Fang Xiuping principally agreed to this plan and immediately called for another meeting to talk about it behind closed doors. The focus of the discussion was: did 1,800 Terran elites stand a chance of overcoming 18 powerful cultivators of the Protoss?

The conclusion drawn from the discussion was that they would have more than a 70% chance of winning.

This was, of course, not a delusion, but the result of rational analysis and a computer simulation that summed up the three major advantages of the Terrans:

“Firstly, the newly developed ‘Torvosaurus Mecha Bot’ by one of our military units has been equipped with small nuclear reactors and the ‘Wind Walk matrix’ of the cultivators; it has been engraved with ‘rune enhancements,’ and made with the hardest steel alloy in the history of mankind. It is an aggregate of almost all of our state-of-the-art technologies… even if it were to be controlled by an ordinary person, the combat power of a single ‘Torvosaurus Mecha Bot’ is still equivalent to at least 10 cultivators in the Jiedan Order.

“Secondly, the Protoss cultivate their powers, and include many powerful cultivators in their ranks. In fact, we Terrans can also cultivate, and we too have our own share of cultivators. In recent years, at least a hundred cultivators in the Ningye Order have emerged in our army, and we have even more folk masters. If all of our soldiers participating in the war are powerful cultivators or mutants, we will have an even greater advantage.

“Thirdly, we have the advantage of computing power. We can use our high-intelligence supercomputer to carry out combat simulations in advance so that we implement the best tactical scheme in the actual fight. We can come fully prepared thanks to a variety of auxiliary weapons, such as smoke bombs, gas bombs, flash bombs, missiles, and so on.”

Pairing these factors up with their hundredfold advantage in numbers—and an environment thin in natural spiritual energy, in which the Protoss’ recovery and sustained combat effectiveness would be lacking—the M.P.s and the world leaders began to feel like they had the greater chance of winning.

Hence, the proposal for the duel was passed with a majority ballot.

“It is time for us to flex our muscles! We will teach those Protoss a lesson this time!”

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“Maybe we can make it a global live broadcast so that everyone can see how the 18 top officials of the Protoss are brought down, one by one!”

“A verbal apology really doesn’t mean anything. The best apology is, precisely, their lives!”

…

Three months later.

In the middle of the Pacific Ocean, an island of about 100 square kilometers was temporarily given the name of “Dueling Island.” (Some netizens also called it the ‘Battle Royale Island’).

The island was surrounded by ocean. In the waters around the island, a high-voltage power grid was laid down. The million-volt high-voltage current could electrocute even the Protoss, and was to prevent those involved in the duel from escaping over the sea. Besides, in the sky around, a massive “sky net barrier” was erected, which would last for three days. It was so strong that even the cultivators of the Shenguang Order couldn’t break through and escape in any short amount of time.

These seemingly-unblemished preparations were all dedicated to the duel between the Terrans and the Protoss. The Protoss had their egos at stake. If they failed, they would have to recognize humans and respect them as peers. The Terrans, on the other hand, had their pride at stake. If they failed, they would have to submit to the Protoss, offer them more land and resources, and compliantly accept their position as subordinates.

Both sides couldn’t afford to lose, and they had their own respective reasons for wanting to win!

But only one could prevail!

In addition, this battle would be broadcasted globally. As long as one was over 18 years of age, one could pay to watch. Moreover, one could switch perspectives among ally troops and spectate the fight in first-person.

As the skirmish was a serious deal, a total of five billion viewers tuned in to the broadcast!

The netizens spoke out actively:

“They are humanity’s bravest warriors! An otaku like me can only adore them from afar. I don’t even have the guts to sign up for it.”

“Please win, heroes of humanity!”

“Our 1800 predators will slay those 18 Protoss! Their blood will be spilled to defend our honor!”

“Slay them! Slay them!”

On the side of the Protoss, many who paid to view the broadcast also posted their messages:

“Those Terrans should’ve become our slaves long ago, but they never had the self-awareness.”

“One Protoss killing 100 ordinary people, who have basically no special abilities? Even I would like to participate in this ‘challenging’ battle.”

“Leaders, please obliterate those humans in the most cruel and barbaric way. Being weak is their original sin. Today, let them realize their own weakness!”

“Haha! Humans, today we shall let you witness the might of the Protoss!”

…

On the Dueling Island.

18 Protoss superiors.

1,800 human elite soldiers.

All arrived at the battlefield successively.

The high voltage power grid near the coast was turned on. The massive sky net barrier was booted up.

The “duel” between Protoss and Terrans officially began.

Boom, boom, boom…

Ratatatatata…

Pshhhh… Boom!

“Die!”

“Worthless scum!”

“Eh? How are they still alive after my full-on blow?”

“Get away! It’s another bullet rain attack!”

“Not good! I’m being barraged by hundreds of human mechs, and my Golden Barrier can’t hold them off much longer!”

“The spiritual stones! Use the spiritual stones! Otherwise, we are no match for them!”

“I’m being chased by hundreds of missiles! I can’t escape! Ah—!”

With a horrific scream, a Protoss had his defense easily broken through by hundreds of powerful, highly-explosive missiles. Under the bombardment of explosions, he was reduced to ashes.

“This won’t work! Their defenses are too strong, their flexibility is too great, and they are too proficient in their coordination! We are no match for them!”

“They have prepared in advance! They even conducted actual fights in their virtual games! We just rushed into this, and are not at all well-prepared.”

“Ah!” Another Protoss had fallen.

“Run! We can’t rival them!”

Boom. A rain of missiles landed, crushing yet another Protoss.

“Can we surrender? We’ll all die if this goes on!” One of the Protoss was on the verge of collapsing.

“How imprudent! The ammunition they brought along is not limitless, and it will soon be depleted. None will pose a threat to us after we tank through these few waves of assaults!”

Boom, boom, boom…

“There’s only 18 of us! Their ammunition will definitely get them through!”

Bam, bam, bam!

“There’s only eight of us left!”

“What? In such a short time? We have lost 10 of our people so quickly?”

Defeat.

Fewer than 20 minutes into the duel, 10 Protoss superiors had fallen. It left countless people dumbfounded. This, however, was entirely within expectations. Effort versus no effort, full preparation versus simple preparation, countless of simulated battles versus an impromptu fight, the wisdom of hundreds of billions of humans versus 18 arrogant Protoss high officials… The humans had the advantage almost across the board, and the Protoss were almost all blasted away at the very beginning of the fight.

However, the battle still lasted for a day and a night.

Bakedu, who was the toughest among all of them and as strong as a humanoid nuclear bomb, would not go down that easily. He, who had lived for several thousands of years had a lot of aces and tricks up his sleeve, struggled until the very end.

He destroyed at least 300 Torvosaurus Mecha Bots alone, and caused the death of more than 100 Terran elites.

But his toughness could only last for a day or so. The hundred spiritual stones in his space ring were depleted, just like a boss with an ever-decreasing health bar. Under the barrage of countless missiles, bullets, and lasers, and surrounded by thousands of mech bots—he, yelling, “No, no, no, no,” was swiftly turned into countless blobs of sludge.

The Terrans won the duel by a landslide!

The Protoss all went silent.