After concluding his conversation, William retreated into his divine domain and began moving freely through the lower-tier battlefield. Having visited this zone before, he moved with newfound confidence this time.

  As he advanced, William scattered hundreds of scouting beacons like confetti across the void. Within a day and half, the devices pinged with a discovery. Smirking, William steered his domain toward the coordinates, emboldened by the powerful backer supporting him.

  Soon, his sensors showed the target abruptly changing course and accelerating toward him. "Looks like their beacons found me too," William mused. He immediately slowed his domain's movement to minimize spatial distortions, disguising himself as an ordinary traveling demigod while waiting for his prey to take the bait.

  Meanwhile, Henir - a self-taught demigod who'd clawed his way up from an oppressed feudal society - was experiencing a surge of hubris. The thunder-element aligned ruler had recently discovered the thrill of easy conquests in this resource-poor sector. His 600,000 lightning-wielding minotaurs had crushed previous opponents, expanding his domain by 50% in a single battle. Now addicted to rapid expansion, he'd invested heavily in scouting beacons.

  When his sensors detected William's domain, Henir didn't hesitate. "Too late to hide now!" he crowed, charging toward the signal without basic precautions. Visions of godhood danced in his head - he'd overthrow the oppressive nobles of his homeworld, become a true deity...

  The invasion conduit connected seamlessly. But as Henir prepared to send his minotaur legions through, the channel suddenly doubled in size. Instead of vulnerable prey, a tsunami of mutated zerglings came pouring through.

  "Hold the line!" Henir screamed as his minotaurs erected crackling lightning barriers around the conduit entrance. Bolts of electricity arced through the swarm, frying hundreds of chittering insects each second. The demigod poured divine energy into replenishing his troops' magic reserves, convinced he could win this war of attrition.

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  But while ground forces clashed at the choke point, Henir failed to notice the poisonous dragonflies slipping past his defenses. William observed the battle through one such insect's compound eyes. "Good minotaurs," he acknowledged. "Loyal and fierce. Pity they chose the wrong master."

  As Henir's forces focused on the frontal assault, the infiltrators began spreading through his domain undetected. Toxic spores drifted from the dragonflies' wings, contaminating vital mana springs. Symbiote pods attached themselves to strategic locations, ready to burst open at William's command.

  "Enough reconnaissance," William decided. He activated the hidden bio-bombs simultaneously. Fleshy explosions erupted across Henir's domain as secondary swarms emerged behind minotaur lines. The lightning barriers flickered as mages turned to face the new threat.

  Seizing the moment, William's main force redoubled their assault. Acid-spitting roachlings melted through the electromagnetic barriers while gargantuan ultralisks bulldozed the crumbling defenses. The minotaur battlelines collapsed into panicked retreat.

  Henir stared in horror at his crumbling domain. "This... this can't be happening!" He desperately unleashed divine lightning, vaporizing entire swathes of invaders. But for every zerg destroyed, three more took its place. The demigod's energy reserves plummeted as William's endless swarm kept coming.

  "Yield," William's voice boomed through the psychic network connecting all zerg. "Your resistance is statistically insignificant."

  Never having faced true coordinated opposition, Henir's battle frenzy gave way to primal fear. With trembling hands, he initiated emergency domain separation protocols - a humiliating retreat that would cost him 30% of his territory. As spatial tears began forming, William calmly recalled his forces. There was no need to risk overextension; this was merely target practice.

  When the last zerg disappeared through closing portals, Henir collapsed to his knees amidst the smoldering ruins. The bitter scent of ozone mixed with alien blood filled his domain. Of his once-proud army, only scattered groups of shell-shocked minotaurs remained.

  Meanwhile, William reviewed battle data as his domain moved toward new targets. "76% biomass recovery rate... Acceptable." He made mental notes to enhance the zerglings' lightning resistance. Somewhere beneath his clinical analysis, a small part of him pitied Henir - that desperate face of panicked ambition reminded William of his own early struggles.

  But sentiment had no place on the battlefield. As William's domain faded into the void, hundreds of new scouting beacons already flew from his hands, their faint trails glittering like deadly constellations.