Supreme Paragon Reborn: Humanity's Rise To Galactic Supremacy-Chapter 296: Not A Victory To Be Content With

Wordlessly, Michael rose to his feet, carrying Victoria and Ava in each arm. His dark gaze swept across the chaos unfolding on board, searching for the crew.

With the vessel taking heavy damage, all communications were rendered impossible. That was why Ava hadn’t been able to send out a distress signal through the comm device strapped to her wrist.

Despite his recent critical state, Michael’s feet blurred, moving with uncanny precision as he traversed the warship’s hull.

Eventually his gaze, which had begun to gleam crimson with the Warlock technique activated, settled on several familiar silhouettes.

Without hesitation, he made his way toward the crew.

Richard was the first one to spot him.

"Boss?!"

The man called out, his attention shifting away from the aliens he had been fighting.

"You and Victoria just disappeared in the blink of an eye. No one even realized you were gone until it was too late! Ava was the one who—"

Richard halted mid-sentence, seeing the two women Michael carried.

Before he could finish, Claire, still in her battered mech, noticed Michael as well, the sensors of her machine instantly locking on him.

"What happened?" She asked in a worried tone.

Silently, Michael entered the protective circle, his gaze inspecting the crew members. Some were more wounded than others, but thankfully, they were all alive. With the aliens now visibly fewer, it was safe to say the worst had passed without casualties in their squad.

’So, they managed to survive without me. That’s good.’

Heaving a sigh of relief. Michael gently placed Victoria and Ava on the ground. Currently, this was the safest place on the entire warship, with the crew able to protect them until they regained consciousness.

Then he glanced at his right palm as he summoned Devil in his sword form.

[Devil]

[Sword Form]

[Rank: Mythic]

• Sharpness: 5,000

Astonishingly, the improvement was profound. When the soul weapon had been of Legendary rank, its sharpness was 1,000... A respectable figure. However, now officially Mythic, its threat level had surged, with five times the potential danger.

The change was unmistakable. A single glance was more than enough to recognize how dangerous the weapon had become. The edge of its blade looked menacing, ready to tear through anything, even mountains, with a single strike.

It had also grown slightly longer and heavier, causing Michael’s chest and arm muscles to bulge more visibly under the strain of its weight.

Visibly pleased with the upgrade, Michael met the crew’s curious gazes. Undoubtedly, they had numerous questions they wanted to ask.

In response to their curiosity, he answered in an unnaturally calm tone.

"Save it for later."

Despite the neutral tone of his voice, the words carried an undeniable authority that no one dared disobey.

Still gripping Devil with his right hand, Michael extended his other arm, summoning Heaven’s Judgment into his grip.

The moment the shotgun materialized, its hook shot forward, embedding itself into a General tier alien. As the hook began to retract, Michael was lifted from his feet, being drawn toward the monster.

ROOA—

It took less than a second for the Ro’trah to notice his presence. However, even with that incredible reaction speed, it proved far too slow.

A vertical slash split the monster into two perfect halves, Devil’s edge carving through its flesh as though it were nothing but mere air.

With his elevated altitude, Michael’s lungs expanded to their utter limit as he surveyed the battlefield, the fallen aliens, humans... and, lastly, the spiritual energy that had yet to dissipate into the vast expanse of the cosmos.

[You are in an area with an astonishingly high concentration of spiritual energy. +5,000% cultivation speed applied.]

[Spirit Radiance takes effect. +5,000% cultivation speed applied.]

Cultivation, by its very nature, was a complicated meditation practice. Regardless of how powerful a warrior was, entering a cultivation mindset required tremendous focus on their part.

That was one of the reasons why Michael could be considered a genius when compared to ordinary soldiers. He could cultivate at a moment’s notice.

However, what he was attempting now was several times more difficult. His aim was to absorb spiritual energy while simultaneously fighting.

Of course, in this life, he did not possess the Celestial technique, which had once made such a feat a breeze. But that did not mean he was completely locked out of cultivating while in motion.

It only meant the process would be significantly slower and far more demanding on his mind and soul.

By all accounts, he wouldn’t be growing stronger through this method... and that was fine. All he needed was fuel, energy to propel him forward into unstoppable momentum.

As such, the epic technique Spirit Radiance and his anger proved more than enough.

His crimson eyes blazed with a menacing edge.

A heartbeat later he dashed. This time not a single thing was capable of halting his rampage.

He moved faster than the majority of soldiers were able to perceive, his face devoid of emotion, carving a path of corpses slain with ruthless brutality in his wake.

Just as he had expected, his soul-bound weapon, refined to 5,000 sharpness, didn’t show the slightest hint of struggle.

While war was indeed dreadful, there were moments when Michael could focus on nothing but killing aliens, bringing a temporary peace to his mind.

"God help us!"

A soldier cried moments before death, only for the aliens that had encircled him to suddenly collapse, decapitated, on the ground.

"Hold the line!"

Similarly, a group of exhausted soldiers stood mere moments away from being overrun, only for their enemies to fall, unable to register what had happened.

With his kill count climbing rapidly, Michael surpassed even most Lords, as no one else had dared to charge alone through the alien ranks.

Funnily enough, even some of the faction leaders had killed fewer than him, since they focused on hunting the alien’s leader rather than dealing with the small fries.

Eventually, as the battle dragged on, deafening explosions echoed from the heart of the swarm, where the Titan queen fought against the Emperor alongside the faction leaders.

Then, like a storm breaking apart, the Ro’trah that had been ravaging the warship suddenly shuddered... Only to scatter in every direction, moving without any sign of leadership.

As the light filtered past the countless alien corpses that streaked across the cosmos with no sense of direction, a colossal body appeared on the horizon.

The dreadful Titan, though once a fierce opponent, now floated lifelessly, showing no sign of life.

"Glory to mankind!"

Once the realization of their victory sank in, the troops erupted into chants.

Relatively isolated from the majority of soldiers, Michael stood close to the ship’s edge, surrounded by the General tier aliens he had slain, long since having lost count.

"We won... huh."

He muttered coldly, eyes scanning their losses. Finally, his gaze settled on the crew. Victoria appeared to have regained her consciousness, slightly disoriented, but otherwise fine.

But Ava still showed no sign of waking up.

A deep frown etched itself on Michael’s face, the alien blood trailing across his muscular body painting a heart-stopping picture.

This wasn’t a victory he could be content with.