novelraw Chapter 485: Patriarch... We’ve Reached The Vessel
Chapter 485: Patriarch... We’ve Reached The Vessel
The ship came into view slowly.
Even with full magnification, it was hard to see at first—just a dark shape against the backdrop of stars.
However, as the Xu family cruiser fleet moved closer, details started to emerge.
Scratched plating. Melted outer wings. Large burn marks on the hull. It looked like the aftermath of a cosmic war.
Inside the command bridge of the lead cruiser, Vice Admiral Xu Jian stood behind the main console with a straight back and sharp eyes. Around him, officers moved with quiet efficiency, tracking every pulse from the unknown vessel.
One of the scanners finally blinked.
"Sir. Visual lock achieved. The object is a large exploration-class ship. Unknown origin. Appears dormant. No shields. No weapons powered."
Xu Jian didn’t respond at first. He stared at the screen, arms behind his back.
The ship was big. He could see now how many layers it once had—command decks, observation domes, segmented cargo holds.
A full multi-tier exploration vessel. But now, most of it was dead. No lights, no movement.
The rest of the officers waited for his call.
He didn’t make one.
Instead, he turned and issued a direct link request to Xu Qianghua.
The signal took just a moment to get through.
Inside a quiet cultivation wing at the Xu family’s mountain estate, Xu Qianghua looked up from his training seat as the call came in.
A small panel opened on the wall beside him, and Xu Jian’s face appeared on the display.
"Patriarch," the admiral said. "We’ve reached the vessel."
Xu Qianghua narrowed his eyes. "Status?"
"Drifting. Lifeless, from what we can see. No response, no signals, no movement."
"Origin?"
"Unknown. Not from any of the registered star tribes. But the tech... is advanced. Very advanced."
Xu Qianghua stood up and walked closer to the screen. He gestured, and the image of the damaged ship came through. His eyes scanned it in silence for a long time.
He didn’t blink much.
The shape of the ship. The engine layout. The plating structure. All of it was unfamiliar. But the scale, the layered weapon slots, the reinforcement density...
This wasn’t some scout vessel. It belonged to a race that was powerful. Organized.
But also, from its looks, it is broken.
"Get closer," he said finally.
Xu Jian gave a small nod. "Understood."
"Don’t board yet. Scan first. I want a full sweep of all sections—check for lifesigns, heat sources, residual qi, or energy channels still active."
"Yes."
"And if you detect lifesigns," Qianghua continued, "compare strength. If they’re lower than us, move quietly. Secure a boarding route, then go in."
"Silent approach protocol?" the admiral asked.
"Yes," Qianghua said. "No announcements. No warnings. I want to know who they are and where they came from."
He leaned forward slightly.
"And why are they still alive?"
The screen went dark as the call ended.
On board the lead cruiser, Xu Jian turned to his officers.
"You heard him," he said. "Bring us within five hundred meters. Begin layered scans. Use passive threads first. Don’t trip any dormant alarms."
The fleet adjusted course.
Three ships moved in a slow arc, surrounding the larger vessel like careful wolves eyeing a wounded beast.
The scan team began their work. Inside the data chamber, a series of soft hums echoed as dozens of thin spiritual lines spread outward like invisible webs.
They moved across the enemy hull without touching it, reading temperature, pressure, magnetic pulses, and any signs of lingering activity.
Results came back slowly.
But steady.
"Lifesigns detected," one of the technicians said finally.
"How many?" Xu Jian asked.
"Seventy-three. All faint. Scattered. Most near the mid-level decks."
The admiral’s face didn’t move. "Strength class?"
The technician frowned.
"...average range is below Sector Rank Two."
Xu Jian raised an eyebrow. "That low?"
"Some of them are injured. A few are even comatose. It’s a miracle they’re still breathing."
Another scan thread lit up.
"Power core is almost dry," someone said. "Not enough to fly, but just enough to keep basic life support going."
"Structural integrity?"
"Barely holding. Any pressure shift and the central corridor might collapse."
Xu Jian looked toward the glass and out at the drifting ship.
It didn’t look threatening now. It looked tired. Lost.
And even worse, abandoned by time.
"Prepare boarding teams," he said. "Silent route. Full armor. No killing unless met with resistance."
"Understood," came the response.
Back inside the cruiser’s central strategy hub, a row of armored cultivators stood ready, each equipped with reinforced suits and spirit-linked communications.
They weren’t just soldiers—they were elite tactical specialists trained for boarding scenarios.
Their leader, a tall woman named Fang Meilin, secured her blade to her back and nodded once.
"We’ll move light. Three units. Non-lethal field ready."
The launch tunnel opened a moment later.
Three small boarding pods slipped silently through space, aimed toward the exposed side of the drifting ship.
Inside the cockpit of her pod, Meilin watched the readings carefully. No movement from the ship. No energy buildup. Nothing.
It was like they were entering a grave.
But even graves had stories.
The pods latched onto the mid-hull corridor with a soft click.
No alarms.
No resistance.
No defense systems.
Meilin didn’t relax.
She tapped her comm.
"Unit One moving in."
The door hissed open with a pressurization seal. Beyond it was darkness.
Long, winding corridors stretched in every direction. Some lights flickered faintly, others were broken entirely. The air was cold. The smell of metal, oil, and something burnt hung thick.
They moved forward in silence.
No voices. No footsteps beyond their own.
The walls were scarred. Panels ripped open. It was clear someone had tried repairs... and failed.
Meilin stopped near a cracked terminal.
A body lay slumped beside it.
Still breathing.
Barely.
She waved over the medic. They checked vitals and ran a quick scan.
"Low oxygen saturation. Malnourished. But alive."
Another soldier approached from the side hallway. "Two more down here. Same condition."
They kept moving.
Most of the crew they found were unconscious, barely clinging to life. Some had makeshift bandages, others were curled in corners with ration bars in their laps. They weren’t fighters anymore—just survivors.