Chapter 544: The Nation of Light

Five years had passed since the Silent King first encountered the Tyranids.

And in these five years of unrelenting warfare, the Tyranids had already uncovered the fundamental secret of the Necrons—their ability to migrate consciousness into new bodies.

Once they understood that conventional extermination was nearly impossible, they began adapting.

Through repeated trials and biological adjustments, the Tyranids eventually evolved two new abilities:

1. Interference with Necron information-transmission, severing the foundation of consciousness transfer.

2. Direct consumption of digital consciousness, allowing them to devour both metal shell and stored mind together.

In the very first battle after developing these adaptations, the Tyranids annihilated tens of billions of Necron warriors—

truly erasing them.

For a species whose numbers were normally constant—neither growing nor shrinking—

this was a catastrophic blow, one so severe that even the Silent King felt something close to grief.

A sensation he had not experienced since his transformation from flesh into sterile machine.

And he did not appreciate rediscovering it.

As Tyranid assaults grew more vicious, the Silent King found himself forced to relive that feeling again and again.

It was, in every sense, becoming unbearable.

‘We cannot win… It may be time to abandon this galaxy.’

With that grim realization forming in his mind, he understood the truth:

the galaxy he had spent tens of millions of years shaping could no longer be held.

He even began contemplating destroying the galactic core before retreating, hoping to at least wound the Tyranids for their trouble.

Yet just as he was about to commit to evacuation, a new intelligence report arrived.

Another extragalactic force had entered his galaxy—

and had already begun fighting the Tyranids.

The Silent King pondered the matter in silence.

Perhaps fate had shifted.

Perhaps he would not need to flee after all.

—

Elsewhere in the Galaxy

Tens of thousands of colossal humanoid beings—ranging from 30 to 60 meters tall, their bodies shimmering with metallic luster—were locked in a brutal battle against a Tyranid mining detachment.

“Where did all these monsters come from?”

Captain Warand of the Fourth Special Assault Company of the Warriors of Light cut down swarms as he spoke, irritation plain in his voice.

“I swear we’ve been killing them for ages, and their numbers haven’t dropped at all.”

He crossed his arms, energy gathering at the intersection, and unleashed a massive cross-shaped beam that vaporized tens of thousands of Tyranids in a single sweep.

His comrade replied with the same cold indifference typical of Light Warriors:

“There are too few dead. According to scanners, there are at least forty trillion of them here.”

The sheer ocean of biomass surged endlessly, heedless of loss. Strategy meant nothing to them—

their only tactic was overwhelming force.

And unfortunately, it was working.

Although individually far weaker than the Warriors of Light, their numbers were simply too vast.

Even a one hundred million to one casualty ratio would not be sustainable.

The Light Nation’s total population was already small, and only a fraction were suitable for conversion into Light Warriors. At their peak, they could barely field two million of them.

After a quick assessment, one warrior spoke reluctantly:

“…We should withdraw.”

With casualties beginning to appear among the Light Warriors, Warand had no choice but to agree, though his expression showed obvious frustration.

—

Their country was known as the Light Nation.

But tens of thousands of years ago, they bore a different name.

It all began with a single event—an accident that changed everything.

In ancient times, when their people still lived in a primitive state, they were being hunted to extinction by an enormous beast known as the Glogvar.

Just as destruction seemed inevitable, the sky split open with a deafening roar.

A massive, black spatial rift tore through the sky.

From within stepped a radiant, winged being of silver-white light—

a towering figure who annihilated the Glogvar and taught the people knowledge that catapulted them out of barbarism and into civilization.

From that moment, they revered the being as a god.

But the being reacted with unmistakable alarm.

He warned them that such fervent worship would only bring calamity.

After repeated insistence, the people reluctantly abandoned open worship.

To honor him in a gentler way, they renamed themselves Norlá-Golinsor,

meaning Children of Light.

Over time, they learned more truths.

The being’s name was Noah.

He was not a native lifeform of this cosmos,

but a refugee who had fled into this universe through a massive spatial fracture.

He had been running from an enemy so dreadful he dared not speak of it.

The real reason he discouraged their worship… partly stemmed from fear that his pursuers might notice them.

Despite his caution, disaster struck centuries later.

During a grand festival, a chilling voice echoed in the mind of every person:

“Found you.”

A monstrous talon—avian yet cosmic—tore through space and descended from the Void, reaching directly for Noah.

A titanic battle ensued.

The Norlá-Golinsor witnessed none of it, but afterward they found droplets of radiant golden blood—the blood of Noah.

Recognizing the power within it, they spent the following ages integrating that energy into their own bloodlines.

—

The “Power of Light” transformed them—

enhancing body and soul alike beyond mortal limits.

Thus was born the Light Nation,

and from among its people emerged the Light Warriors—those with the talent to fully awaken Noah’s legacy.

Their strength rivaled, and sometimes surpassed, that of the greatest species in the cosmos.