I Am The Swarm

In truth, the Daibo Civilization had no intention of hiding the exclusive data they had collected while fighting the Swarm’s combat units. After all, it wasn’t anything particularly groundbreaking. As some representatives had pointed out, it was just data collected by what they considered “toys.”

If the Swarm were to be eradicated, these mechs would once again lose their practical value and revert to being mere toys.

However, this data had been obtained at the cost of Daibo lives, and simply handing it over for free felt unjust. At the very least, they should exchange it for something with the Ji Race—even if it was just some points.

Although the Daibo Civilization had lost the drive to climb higher, pursuing their hobbies and interests still required support from certain advanced technologies. Having a reserve of points was always beneficial.

“We never intended to keep the data to ourselves. However, how it will be distributed and used will be decided after discussions with the Ji Race,” the Daibo commander stated firmly, ignoring the murmurs and side comments.

With their goal achieved, the others made a few more remarks. When they noticed the Daibo representative had stopped responding, they found it less entertaining to continue the conversation and gradually dropped the topic.

In reality, most civilizations didn’t have a pressing need for the data the Daibo had collected. However, the desire to get something for free was a common trait among many races. When they came across something interesting, regardless of whether they could use it, they would first try to see if they could get it for nothing. If they succeeded, it was a win; if not, they had only wasted a few words.

The Swarm didn’t stop launching Primordial Body projectiles just because the Daibo Civilization’s performance was less than stellar. These special projectiles continued to be fired at the Confederation forces at the same frequency.

However, after noticing that the Daibo front had stabilized, the Swarm didn’t continue to target them specifically. Instead, they resumed “evenly” distributing the Primordial Body projectiles across the Confederation’s defensive lines, ensuring everyone got their share.

With the Swarm’s forces suppressed yet still sending troops continuously, the Confederation felt little pressure. The command channel was filled with laughter, jokes, and banter among the leaders of various races.

But not everyone was immersed in this cheerful atmosphere. For example, the Daibo commander sensed something was off.

He had felt this unease earlier when they were being targeted, but he had dismissed it as a mistake and didn’t pay much attention. Now, however, the feeling was particularly strong.

When had the Confederation become so harmonious?

Earlier, when they were targeting the Daibo Civilization, it hadn’t felt harmonious to him, but the group targeting them had been perfectly in sync.

It seemed that everyone had forgotten their usual squabbles and suddenly united to target the Daibo Civilization. Even Mowei of the Rashudia Race and Mid of the Yuntu Race, long-time rivals, had managed to coordinate perfectly.

Even Conradus, the fleet commander who should have maintained a serious demeanor, had made a few casual remarks that effectively fanned the flames.

This was what had felt off to him at the time. Mowei and Mid, being enemies in a sense, naturally understood each other, so their coordination was understandable.

The small outer-ring civilizations, with the two strongest mid-ring civilizations—the Rashudia and Yuntu—leading the charge, and even the fleet commander joining in, was also normal.

But as the fleet commander, Conradus shouldn’t have taken a stance in such a situation. The Daibo commander now carefully recalled whether they had ever offended Conradus in the past.

If it was because the Daibo had tightened their interception efforts without authorization, nearly exposing the Confederation’s earlier laxity, and had failed to consult the fleet commander in time, then it was understandable that Conradus might have harbored some resentment and seized the opportunity to retaliate.

But the current situation was truly abnormal.

Earlier, everyone had speculated about the Swarm’s stellar bomb plan and had made many preparations. Each race had planned and rehearsed their escape—no, their strategic withdrawal—to the point where the fleet’s supercomputers had nearly crashed.

But after the war began, the concern about the Swarm’s stellar bomb plan suddenly vanished. Without any evidence, simply because the Swarm was putting up a fierce resistance and revealing some new long-range units, one speculation had overturned another.

But was the Swarm really putting up a fierce resistance? Sending hundreds of thousands of combat units every five minutes, large and small—was that really a sign of fierce resistance?

The so-called new Swarm commander with a brain-dead style was just a fantasy concocted by these races, yet it had somehow been accepted by many without question.

Even the earlier certainty about the Swarm’s stellar bomb had been quickly replaced by the belief that the Swarm had no intention of destroying the star.

As the Daibo commander, he was responsible for his people and subordinates. Before the war, he had studied the Swarm carefully. According to the records, the Swarm was cunning and deceitful. No matter how unreliable something seemed, there was always a deeper purpose behind it. The Swarm had never been defeated in battle.

Given this, how could he believe that a commander capable of managing billions of troops had a brain-dead style? Compared to that, he found it more plausible that the Swarm’s continuous troop deployment had a purpose.

But as he looked at the cheerful crowd, it seemed they weren’t interested in considering such possibilities. They were still lost in their absurd fantasies.

“Are these people sick?” he suddenly felt as if he were the only sober one in a room full of drunks.

With teammates this brain-dead, he could only rely on himself. After much deliberation, the Daibo commander finally couldn’t resist and secretly approached Conradus to share his concerns.

Conradus listened and didn’t give the Daibo commander a hard time. Instead, he acknowledged the validity of his points. Under his guidance, the command channel gradually returned to normal, and discussions about the Swarm’s strategies and tactics resumed.

The Daibo commander thought to himself that Conradus, despite being a somewhat problematic Rashudian, was a reliable fleet commander.

Although Conradus was relatively reliable, the lack of information meant that after much discussion, the group only became more convinced that the Swarm’s commander was brain-dead. They didn’t gain much new insight.

The war continued, with both sides taking turns firing at each other, making the conflict feel like a turn-based game. Time flew by, and two years passed in the blink of an eye.