I raised stunning young ladies, but they all wanted to possess me.

"Mr. Gu does not need to attend the meeting today."

Yuzuru's voice remained as calm and composed as ever.

"Yes, you don't need to go."

Lin Jinyu took over the conversation, her golden pupils gleaming with an air of self-righteousness under the cold lights of the corridor.

"Your mental energy fluctuations are too easily recognized."

"General Joseph in North America is Cecilia's distant cousin, Priestess Ikana in South America has terrifying mental perception, and there's Marshal Andreyevich in Northern Europe."

"He saw you in person on the battlefield before he retired."

"Not to mention Yu Ran will be coming too."

"If you go there, it's like shouting in front of them with your mental power, 'I am Gu Yan, and I am still alive.'"

"So you're going to stay in your room today and not go anywhere."

After she finished speaking, she added another sentence.

"I've already had someone bring you breakfast."

"Matcha cake and hot milk."

"The cake was specially baked for you by Yuzuru last night at the supply ship."

Yuzuru turned his head and glanced at Lin Jinyu.

That look was very small, but Lin Jinyu pretended not to see it.

Gu Yan looked at the two women in front of her and blinked.

He hadn't particularly wanted to go to that kind of event.

So many high-ranking generals were crammed into a conference room, saluting each other and reading welcome speeches, while he, a near-S-rank "deputy," stood in a corner without even a seat.

Going there would just make me a background figure.

"Alright."

"Then I'll stay in the room."

"If you need me after the meeting, please call me anytime."

Conference room of the Akagi flagship.

The long table was already filled with senior generals from the Eastern Theater Command, their epaulets shimmering like a galaxy under the crystal chandelier.

Chief of Staff of the Great Xia Expeditionary Force, Commander of the Remnants of the Russian Federation, Representative of the Southeast Asian Allied Forces, and Commander-in-Chief of the Japanese Self-Defense Forces.

All eyes were drawn to the heavy alloy door at the main entrance of the conference room.

The door opened.

The first person to walk in was the representative from the North American theater.

He was tall and had the star insignia of a United States Army general on his shoulder, and his back was straight.

Behind him followed an elderly man in a dark blue navy coat, with graying temples and a rather expressionless face. He quietly walked in, sat down on the right side of the long table, and folded a pair of white gloves and placed them on the table.

Commander-in-Chief Joseph of the Seventh Pacific Fleet.

He was a distant descendant of the Chen family, and spoke Daxia language with a slight Minnan accent, but he only said one sentence from beginning to end: "The entire Seventh Fleet of the North American Theater is in position and ready to be deployed at any time."

He doesn't need to say anything more.

An expeditionary force consisting of dozens of destroyers and cruisers has crossed the International Date Line and is deploying in combat formation in the East China Sea.

The second person to walk in was the representative from the South American theater.

Beside him was an old woman with dark skin, wearing an Amazon tribal totem necklace around her neck.

She wasn't wearing a military uniform; instead, she was dressed in colorful, hand-woven fabric, her bare feet treading on the cold floor of the conference room, with several anklets made of plant fibers around her ankles.

Ikana.

The leader of the Amazon River Valley Voodoo Priests, and the only one among the top ten in combat power who does not belong to any national organization.

After she sat down, she closed her eyes as if sensing something, then opened them and looked for a moment in the direction of the commander of the remnant of the Russian Federation.

She said something in Tupi, and the translator next to her paused for a moment before translating it.

"She said you have Ivan's scent about you."

"He is the son of all of us."

The commander of the remnant Russian forces remained silent for a long time, then stood up and gave the old woman a very slow and solemn military salute.

The third person to walk in was a representative from the Nordic region.

Marshal Andrejevich, commander of the Finnish Aurora Fortress, had his full head of silver hair shaved very short, and an old scar that ran from his brow bone to his jawline over his left eye.

Behind him were several colonel-level officers, also dressed in snow camouflage, with the insignia of the Aurora Fortress ice and snow fortress embroidered on their cuffs.

His voice was extremely deep when he spoke, as if ice had been shattered from the inside.

"The snowfield special forces division will be fully in place by dawn tomorrow."

"We stayed in sub-zero temperatures for so long."

"This time, we will not allow the same tragedy to repeat itself in the East China Sea."

He was referring to the souls of those killed by nuclear bombs on the Moscow front, and everyone present understood.

The last person to walk in was a representative from the Central African Theater.

Nwanko, deputy commander-in-chief of the Central African Joint Defense Force, ranked fourth on the combat power list and is a retired general.

He was followed by only two S-class superhumans, three people in total, who were all the top combat forces remaining in the entire Central Africa theater.

"We don't have many soldiers, but we've sent them all."

"There are no more S-level calamities on the defense line."

"They've all come to the east."

He was telling the truth.

He brought all the remaining top combat forces in the entire Central African theater to this place, leaving only regular troops and militia in the rear.

If Kuroshio were to launch a surprise attack on the rear of the Central African defense line at this time...

He didn't even have any soldiers to send back to reinforce him.

After all the theater representatives were seated, the side door of the conference room opened.

Pei Yuran walked in.

She was still wearing that plain white dress, her long, jet-black hair tied back with a silver ribbon, and the ice-blue longsword hanging horizontally at her waist.

Her face remained icy and indifferent, and the temperature in the conference room seemed to drop several degrees the moment she walked in.

She walked to her seat at the end of the long table and sat down without looking at anyone.

But the high priestess Ikana, sitting opposite her, opened her eyes and glanced at her.

General Joseph paused for half a second while folding his gloves.

Marshal Andreyevich's one eye swept across her face and then looked away.

Pei Yuran didn't look at them, but sat there quietly, tapping her fingers very lightly on the scabbard.

Chiyomiya Hanyu announced the start of the meeting.

She stood up, her pheasant-sword lying horizontally on the long table, her deep brown eyes sweeping across the faces of the generals from various countries.

No one would have guessed that the chief priestess who so calmly orchestrated the overall situation at the meeting had baked a matcha cake for a man on the supply ship last night.

......

The atmosphere in the operations room was even more somber than the morning mist over the sea.

Chiyomiya Hanyu stood at the end of the long table, his pheasant sword lying horizontally on the tactical platform in front of him, its dark red scabbard gleaming under the cold light.

She had just announced the troop deployment plan for the fifth line of defense, and the holographic projections in front of the representatives of each war zone were still on, casting a faint blue light on everyone's faces with the densely packed fleet formations and rune defense line diagrams.

"The above is the overall deployment of the fifth defense line in the Eastern Theater Command."

"Please feel free to ask any questions you may have now."

A brief silence.

The old priestess Ikana closed her eyes, her fingers moving back and forth across the totem necklace around her neck, as if verifying the credibility of the plan through some ancient divination technique.

Joseph picked up the neatly folded white gloves and put them down again, as if he wanted to say something but then stopped himself.

Marshal Andreyevich tapped the table very lightly twice with his rough knuckles.

That was a habit he developed at Aurora Fortress, representing his deep thinking.

It was Pei Yuran who broke the silence.

She sat at the end of the long table, her plain white dress standing out starkly against the dark military uniforms filling the room. The ice-blue longsword at her waist rested horizontally on her knees, the ice crystals on its tassel gleaming faintly under the cold light.