And just like that, within such a short span of time, the entire wall of over six hundred ships was obliterated.
Now, their shattered hulls either burned in fiery infernos born from the explosions, or drifted aimlessly in the cold embrace of space like scraps of twisted alloy. Among the wreckage floated the corpses of Minotaur warriors—mangled beyond recognition, their forms no longer resembling the beings they once were. It was carnage in the truest sense, painted across the void.
Those onboard these ships had no chance of survival—none escaped. The evacuation, rushed and sudden, had barely begun, and the majority of crews were still trapped within their doomed vessels when the Left Division's attacks struck. They died where they stood. The death toll, if counted, would easily reach between two to four million—perhaps even more.
