Chapter 102
Translator: True Detective
Chapter: 102
Chapter Title: The Secret Heir
Luckily, Heinrich dodged quickly and only got a little splashed on him. But before he could even feel relieved, he saw Celia continue to vomit uncontrollably several more times!
By then, there was nothing left in his stomach—everything coming up was just clear water. Yet this disheveled sight on Celia was utterly terrifying. For a moment, the emperor was too stunned to react—and then, as it finally sank in, the Alliance's trusted subordinates surged forward, half-dragging and half-carrying Celia toward the restroom. In an instant, they shoved the emperor aside.
Heinrich started to follow, only to see Aaron, Isaac, and the others rushing over from the end of the corridor, all asking, “What happened?” “What’s going on?” “Where’s the Marshal? Your Majesty, are you alright?”
Heinrich’s lips twitched, but he couldn’t utter a single word.
By now, Kaleyan had already half-supported and half-dragged Celia into the restroom, slamming the door shut with a resounding “Bang!” Soon after, intermittent sounds of retching and running water leaked out. Muffled through the door, they still vibrated clearly against everyone’s eardrums.
Aaron asked in bewilderment, “What… what’s going on? Should we call a doctor?”
Major General Isaac looked at him, hesitating to speak. After a long pause, he cautiously glanced at the emperor.
“What’s wrong with you?” Aaron asked, puzzled.
“…No, I-I actually think maybe Marshal Celia—”
“No, impossible,” Heinrich instinctively cut off Major General Isaac. “Impossible.”
The emperor’s mind was a chaotic mess. He slowly backed up a few steps until his spine pressed against the wall. Now he couldn’t hear anything at all, floating as if standing on a cloud. For a split second, he even wanted to pinch himself hard to see if he was dreaming.
Meanwhile, Aaron was still completely baffled, staring at Isaac. The scarred man was on the verge of collapse in front of his slow-on-the-uptake colleague. After struggling with gestures and glances for what felt like forever, just as he was about to blurt it out, Aaron finally got it: “Oh—”
Then he immediately shook his head. “No way, that’s impossible. No, no, it can’t be—”
The scarred man’s mouth twitched as he stared at Aaron and Heinrich. “Why do you both think it’s impossible?!”
The emperor and the general spoke in unison: “Because that’s Marshal Celia—”
Their voices cut off abruptly. Clearly, they both realized this reasoning had a logical flaw.
So Isaac innocently spread his hands. Aaron gaped at him in shock, then suddenly whipped his head toward the emperor—only to see the emperor’s expression darken rapidly.
An eerie silence fell over the corridor. The other Imperial officers had no idea what was happening and exchanged puzzled glances. They wanted to ask, but cowered before the emperor’s grim face and kept their mouths shut.
With a click, the door opened. Celia emerged from not far away, wiping his face with a tissue.
He acted as if he hadn’t seen the crowd of Imperials in the corridor at all, turning straight toward the exit. Only in that instant of turning did his gaze seem to silently flick over Heinrich.
At that moment, Heinrich was also looking up at him. Their eyes met, and time stretched infinitely, freezing to a halt. Even the shifting lights and air in the corridor solidified into a bizarre, surreal painting forever.
Then Celia turned away and left with Kaleyan.
Everyone stared in stunned silence at the scene. After a long moment, Major General Isaac’s cautious and puzzled voice finally broke the quiet in the corridor. “Your Majesty, why didn’t you—”
“No. Don’t say it.”
Isaac froze. Heinrich turned back, his face inscrutable and devoid of emotion.
“We can’t say anything until we have proof…” The emperor’s ice-blue eyes narrowed slightly. After a pause, he spoke again, his voice so soft it was like a whisper:
“Even if we get proof, we still can’t say it.”
·
“…No matter if you’re now citizens of the Empire or wanderers of the Free Planets—as long as you were once members of the Radiant Legion, as long as you once shed the Radiant Legion’s blood!”
“—I’ve come back. Where are my warriors?”
The speech video spread across the universe via photonic signals. Celia’s words in the video were like a single spark, igniting a prairie fire the instant it landed—and then sweeping through the entire galaxy with unstoppable speed!
When news of Celia’s death in battle at Red Earth Star spread back then, the Alliance erupted in unprecedented resistance waves, even reversing the battlefield situation for a time. But soon after, without their commander, the collapse of faith was inevitable. In the end, after Kaleyan and others voted by show of hands, the Radiant Legion chose to cease fire, surrender on the spot, and disband.
Countless people, tears streaming down their faces, piloted armed shuttles or even warships into the vast depths of space. Most chose to stay, voluntarily forming suicide squads in a final desperate strike against the Empire.
But at that very moment, the new emperor Heinrich timely announced the truth: that the Alliance Parliament had betrayed its people, sold out the Radiant Legion, and caused Celia’s death in battle. This move was one of the most correct decisions Heinrich made after ascending the throne. It turned the tide at a critical juncture, redirecting the people’s immense hatred onto the Alliance Parliament.
Suddenly, interest groups led by the Konsetlin family became the chief culprits of defeat. The Alliance Parliament was forced into a full retreat from the galaxy. Meanwhile, the Empire used a series of amnesty measures to successfully absorb most of the Radiant Legion’s soldiers, resettling them as citizens on the Empire’s frontier.
After fifty years of gradual evolution, these people had become part of the Empire. They worked, lived, traded, and paid taxes just like the original Imperial residents. Their ties to nearby planets grew, opening trade ports and establishing thousands of free harbors. They intermarried with people from other Imperial systems and had children, fully integrating into Imperial society and its systems…
Yet these people were different.
They were the only ones in the Empire—aside from a few long-serving formal soldiers—who had fought on a galactic-scale battlefield. They were true warriors, who had walked through barrages of gunfire, traversed fields of blood and fire—a steel-forged, invincible, fearless army.
·
The day after the enlistment speech spread across the galaxy, unrest broke out across the Empire’s frontiers. Within days, the situation escalated further. Local governments had no choice but to raise the aerial restrictions from yellow to red, then to the highest red level.
But it was no use—the fourth day after the speech, unrest peaked across regions. Countless former Radiant Legion soldiers, now holding Imperial citizenship, flew ships that effortlessly tore through aerial defenses, bypassed Imperial space stations, and fled into the vast cosmos!
By the time the news reached the Imperial capital White Heron Star, the situation had deteriorated badly.
Defections were doubling daily at a rate of 264 percentage points. One frontier town after another turned into ghost towns. Many Imperial government offices were on the brink of paralysis, with traffic and communications completely severed.
Worse still, some officers originally from the Alliance but now serving in the Imperial military resolutely chose the opposing side. Many even flew warships straight out of space fortresses!
Return to the Alliance!
Return to the Radiant Legion!
The escalating crisis finally forced the Imperial military headquarters to act. Ten days after the speech, the White Heron Star Elder Council sent an emergency communique to New Kremlin light-years away, begging the emperor to handle this unprecedented Alliance enlistment wave with an iron fist!
“The Alliance military is riding roughshod over us!” In the palace, Elder Langfelo—clad in a gold-embroidered black robe—roared at the emperor. “This isn’t about eight million people. This is a national humiliation! The Alliance is telling us with actions that they don’t give a damn about the Empire! They trample on the Empire’s authority and pride!”
Heinrich sat expressionless on the throne. Langfelo slammed down his teacup, his white eyebrows bristling with fury. “The Joint Forces aren’t just for fighting Dark Star Hall together—they’re a showdown between the Empire and the Alliance! Getting outmaneuvered before the battlefield even starts—where does that leave the imperial family’s face? The military’s face? The Empire’s face—!”
“I cannot intervene.”
Elder Langfelo looked as if someone had suddenly choked him. “What did you say?!”
“I cannot intervene,” Heinrich said flatly. “They must be allowed to go.”
At this point, Elder Langfelo stared at him like he was a madman. But the emperor remained calm, even giving a faint, wry smile.
“Celia might be pregnant. With my child.”
·
In that instant, Elder Langfelo’s face was a spectacle: extreme shock, surprise, disbelief, mixed with anger and doubt, plus a trace of inexpressible狂喜 that twisted the old man’s features into something almost absurd.
“Your Majesty, what did you say?!”
“The child is mine—” Heinrich paused, taking a deep breath before murmuring, “Though he only might exist.”
Langfelo wasn’t handling it much better than General Aaron. The elder shook his head instinctively, stammering after a long moment, “No… impossible. You could do something like that?!”
“The Lion Eagle’s medical systems didn’t detect it. No chance for close examination. But his symptoms match. Vomiting, anemia, constant hunger yet wasting away rapidly, lethargy—he even fell asleep during the last monitored battle. I’ve known him for over a century. Never seen him sleep on a battlefield…”
Heinrich’s lips curled coldly. He continued, “And those inhibitors he’s taking mask the pregnancy pheromones. Otherwise, everyone would know instantly… That’s why I never smelled it.”
Elder Langfelo gaped, speechless. After a long while, he suddenly slammed the table and stood. “Why isn’t it confirmed?! A physical exam! Do one immediately! Bring the results to the Elder Council for announcement. Everyone must know—”
“No,” the emperor’s voice was gravely dark. “Unless I don’t want this child.”
Elder Langfelo froze, then his feverish mind cooled. He instantly regretted his rash words.
Indeed, this news couldn’t be announced now. Far from it—even verifying it was incredibly difficult. What right did the Empire have to force a physical exam on a visiting friendly head of state?!
Even if everyone now knew Celia was pregnant, knew how vital this little crown prince was to the Empire, not a word could be said! More than that—they had to conceal it at all costs, pretend they knew nothing!
Of course, announcing it had huge benefits: First, it would strengthen Alliance-Empire cooperation, easing many conflicts instantly. Second, it would massively boost the emperor’s prestige, bringing intangible yet enormous gains to the Empire. Right now, it would deal irreparable damage to Celia’s image and immediately halt the escalating enlistment wave…
Even if none of that happened, at the very least, the public would know they’d get a little crown prince!
A secure line of succession, steadying the people’s hearts—it was paramount for any monarchy. Especially for this empire’s emperor, who hadn’t given the public any hope in fifty years!
Uncertainty over heirs was the main attack point on the Empire’s regime. Having an heir with Celia’s blood would turn the Empire’s greatest weakness into its biggest strength!
Yet Elder Langfelo’s face darkened too.
No matter the immense benefits, they paled against one simple fact—
Celia could abort the child.
Forget bonding or marks—heat periods were meaningless with inhibitors. Forced surgical mark removal wasn’t unheard of. Though the Empire had banned the tech by law, who could guarantee the Alliance hadn’t? If Celia wanted, once back in the Alliance with ample inhibitors and medical teams, he could dodge heats with all sorts of methods!
Then, the only true link between Empire and Alliance, emperor and Marshal Celia, would be this child—surviving by some fluke.
This was the Empire’s one and only absolute trump card!
Obviously, announcing it now would stop the enlistment wave cold, putting the Alliance in extreme embarrassment. But it would lead to one immediate consequence: Celia publicly denying it, then aborting the child!
—Then they’d have nothing left. What would they even have?
“No, we can’t say… We really can’t…” Elder Langfelo paced the room with agility belying his age, suddenly stopping to stomp his foot. He asked, “But if we don’t say anything, what happens when Marshal Celia returns to the Alliance?!”
The emperor’s pupils contracted slightly.
“If he goes back to the Alliance, can the child still return to the Empire?” Elder Langfelo stepped forward, agitated. “We can’t let him leave! This child must be born in the Empire!”