Proxima Centauri b, at the space military base, two sub-light-speed battleships and nearly a hundred warships are all gathering here.
At their respective facilities, enemy warships keep appearing.
"The number of enemy sub-light-speed battleships has reached fifteen!" This is the intelligence brought by the reconnaissance ship, and for this, they have lost several reconnaissance ships and countless reconnaissance satellites.
"Fifteen sub-light-speed battleships!" Ding Yue exclaimed, "This force can destroy a civilization below level 2.5."
"Commander, what should we do now? Go out and fight them. Our warships can take on two, even three, as long as they are scattered and destroyed one by one, we still have a chance." The subordinates were eager to attack.
"Separate the warships, hold them off, no need to take risks." Ding Yue ordered.
