Chapter 22
Chapter 22
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: True Detective
Chapter: 22
Chapter Title: The Emperor's Claim
-----------------------------------------------------------------
A three-dimensional holographic projection cast Edna into the air, the brown-haired woman’s face slightly pale, giving her a frail air.
But Heinrich was utterly unmoved. “What do you want, Conselin?”
“You barged into the military academy and forcibly took one of my students, Heinrich,” Edna cut straight to the point. “You’re two hundred years old, and he’s barely of age. You actually declared in front of everyone that you’re going to mark him—are you that desperate for a child?!”
The words “mark him” hit like a tiny, stimulating jolt of electricity, sending an indescribable wave of pleasure rippling through Heinrich’s heart.
Yet his face remained expressionless. “That’s none of your business,” he said flatly.
“He’s my student! That makes it my business!”
“Oh, is it?”
The study fell abruptly silent. Heinrich idly toyed with his pen, while Edna’s breathing grew heavy.
Her face flushed an unnatural red. After a long moment, she seemed to steel herself, clenching her teeth and saying word by word, “Heinrich, as long as you send that student back... send him back completely unharmed, I’ll agree to anything you want!”
For the first time in centuries, Heinrich felt no frustration in Edna’s presence. He even smiled as he asked, “That’s a rare sight, Conselin. You actually want to protect someone? Is it because he looks like Celia...”
“That’s exactly why I don’t want to hand him over to you!”
“It doesn’t matter,” the emperor replied pleasantly. “He just looks like him. He’s not Celia.”
He walked over to the armchair and sat down, his posture utterly relaxed, as if he didn’t care about Edna’s fiery glare. After a moment, he seemed to make up his mind and teased, “I’m guessing you’re definitely not willing to hand over the cockpit...”
“You said it yourself—he’s not the real Celia. If you want to trade the cockpit for him, then keep the guy.”
The woman’s response was quick. Heinrich narrowed his eyes at her for a moment, then chuckled softly. “Yeah... he’s not the real Celia.”
For some reason, the tone of his words made Edna’s heart skip a beat, her expression nearly changing.
Had he figured something out? No, no—only a few hours had passed. Nothing could give it away yet.
Edna dug her nails into her palm, barely regaining her composure.
In the study, Heinrich gently set the pen down on the desk and zoned out contentedly for a moment. Edna’s inner tension was almost unbearable as she stared at him unblinkingly. At last, the emperor suddenly asked, “—Who is Eunes?”
“Wh—what?”
“Who is Eunes?”
Edna froze for a few seconds before saying blankly, “I don’t know.”
Heinrich stared coldly into her eyes, as if judging whether she was lying.
But this time, Edna truly had no idea—she was puzzled herself. A moment later, Heinrich looked away and asked coldly, “Celia never mentioned this person to you?”
“...No!”
“Didn’t you know him a long time ago?”
“I never knew he knew anyone named Eunes!”
Heinrich nodded, his expression inscrutable.
Edna’s heart tightened slightly. After another moment, he asked casually, as if making small talk, “When Celia was young... he was gone for a while. Why did he come back?”
The question struck right at the heart. Edna’s face changed instantly. “How do you know that?!”
Heinrich laughed.
How did he know? He didn’t. He was bluffing entirely.
From his memories, the place where Celia had been and that Eunes were clearly people he’d met in his extremely early youth—people his childhood friend Edna knew nothing about, which meant they definitely hadn’t met in the Alliance.
And “gone for a while” was vague enough—it could mean leaving White Egret Star or leaving the Alliance altogether. It all depended on how Edna interpreted it. Even if Celia had never actually left the Alliance, it could be explained as leaving the military academy or the army. It was easy to gloss over.
But from Edna’s reaction, he’d clearly guessed the key point.
“Celia told me, though he didn’t say much,” Heinrich said with a shrug, easily. “I’m just curious. Of course, you can choose not to tell me—but when I send your student back is another story. You know he looks just like Celia, and he’s an Omega about to enter his heat...”
“Shut your mouth—!” Edna nearly roared. “You’re two hundred years old! How can you bring yourself to do it?!”
The emperor flashed a shameless grin.
He was almost certain now. Even if there was a one-in-ten-thousand chance that this Gavin was some copy Edna had cooked up, it wasn’t meant for him—otherwise, she wouldn’t be so desperate to get him back.
Of course, the odds were slim, since Edna knew nothing about Eunes, so those memories couldn’t be fabricated.
“...His teacher died,” Edna said at last, helpless and grinding her teeth. “They say it was the Dark Star Warriors who killed him, but for some reason, they didn’t touch Celia. After it happened, he came back alone from the outer star systems and immediately enlisted in the Alliance military.”
At the mention of the Dark Star Warriors, Heinrich’s heart jolted. “Why didn’t they touch Celia?”
“I said I don’t know! Celia clammed up about it later!”
“Why did the Dark Star Warriors kill his teacher?”
“I really don’t know! When Celia came back, he was wearing black veils and said his teacher was dead—he wouldn’t say anything more!”
“Did he not say, or did you refuse to?”
“Heinrich!” Edna roared. “If you’re done asking, give me back my student!”
Her voice was so shrill that even Bian couldn’t help drifting back two meters. Heinrich leaned lazily against the chairback and smiled. “One last question... If one day Celia willingly bore children for me, would you still lose it like this?”
Edna exploded. “—Go have your wet dream!”
Heinrich stood, his face full of regret. “Then I won’t invite you to the full moon feast.”
He shrugged with genuine regret and smiled faintly under Edna’s murderous glare. “You can send someone to pick up that student. But given his ‘major contributions’ to Phoenix mecha research, I might call on him often in the future... The academy won’t mind, right?”
Clearly, the emperor wasn’t accepting any refusal. Before Edna could speak, he made a silencing gesture and cut the comms.
Edna’s furious face vanished from the air.
The study fell quiet again. Bian poked his head out from behind the emperor, still shaken. “Miss Conselin is truly mad... Your Majesty, your decision on the full moon feast was absolutely correct!”
Heinrich laughed, but the smile quickly faded. After a long moment, he said softly, “Celia definitely has some connection to the Dark Star Warriors.”
“How could the Marshal have ties to a place like that? And Dark Star Hall was ultimately wiped out by the Marshal himself...”
Heinrich shook his head to silence Bian, then strode out after a moment’s thought.
The corridor outside the study was empty, the air still. Afternoon sunlight scattered like碎金; the faint mint scent from the garden wafted through on the breeze. Heinrich headed toward the bedchamber, his heart swelling with growing excitement.
Those dark pasts, the confused present, and the distant, unknown future—suddenly, it all seemed to have an anchor.
The man who had once stood so high above him was now right here, so real and within reach. He knew it couldn’t be a copy.
That was Celia, returned from hell to meet him again.
This time, no one could tear them apart. Every blueprint would be realized, every effort and belief vindicated.
Heinrich shoved open the bedchamber doors with a bang. Gavin turned from the armchair, not yet standing, when he charged forward and pulled him into a fierce embrace.
A torrent of thick, potent Alpha pheromones flooded his lungs through his nose—like a brutal biochemical attack. Gavin couldn’t even speak before his head spun, a tingling current sparking through every nerve ending, his body going instantly limp.
“I know it’s you back,” Heinrich murmured. “I’ve... missed you so much.”
Gavin reflexively tried to push him away, but for some reason, an inexplicable heaviness settled in his heart.
The feeling was so unfounded that it took him a few seconds to realize it was a deep sadness.
“Do you remember all those things you taught me before? Back then, I thought you were wrong and couldn’t argue because of our positions, but now there’s no one left to tell me again...”
Heinrich buried his face in Gavin’s neck, enveloped by his scorching body heat. The needle-like pain and thrill made his voice sound strange.
“Those things you taught me that I didn’t take to heart back then... can you teach them to me again?”
Gavin didn’t know what to say. He habitually wanted to snap back, pat the emperor’s shoulder and suggest he go back to the Royal Military Academy for a refresher, but when he opened his mouth, what came out was, “...If you thought you were right, why not stick to it?”
Heinrich fell silent.
“I was right at first,” he said softly after a long moment. “But if I’d kept going, I would’ve been wrong.”
Gavin frowned. Heinrich released him, his gaze like that of a man who’d trekked through desperation for ages and finally glimpsed the last thread of hope. “Good thing you came back. Are you here to help me?”
“...” Gavin had no idea what to say. He frowned, staring into Heinrich’s deep blue eyes, a complex feeling he couldn’t name stirring inside.
This was a man at the pinnacle of authoritarian power in the galactic era, his status forged in the fires of war, all glory and splendor gathered upon him. Yet standing here alone, he knew nothing of the path beneath his feet, his eyes filled with fear and uncertainty about the future.
“I don’t know, Heinrich,” Gavin said softly after a moment. “I don’t know... because you’re already standing where no one has stood before.”
As the words left his mouth, even he felt a daze, as if they’d been etched deep in his brain since waking on Red Soil Star, since opening his eyes to the Empire again—emerging naturally when facing the emperor.
Heinrich’s eyes widened in momentary shock.
He recalled many years ago, their first discussion on the feasibility of dictatorship. Back then, he, Aaron, and the other Imperial generals who later defected from the Alliance still clung to the idea of “forcing the Marshal to take power and proclaim himself emperor.” But as soon as he hinted at it, Celia erupted in fury: “Is that a position for a human to stand in?”
“But...”
“Authoritarian rule in the cosmic era isn’t the same as ancient Earth. The Empire has no precedents for any issues. Do you think one person’s paltry wisdom can dictate the course of history?”
“But...”
“Remember this: the pinnacle of the power pyramid should never be occupied by one person! The Alliance has its problems, sure, but replacing a corrupt federation with an excellent dictatorship is just drinking poison to quench thirst. No need to discuss it!”
Back then, Heinrich thought it was Celia’s biggest mistake in life. Even after they forced Celia to declare himself emperor and failed, rebelled out of the Alliance, recruited in the outer systems, and founded the Empire... that belief hadn’t changed.
He’d thought he was on the right path. But in fifty years of ruling the Empire, he began encountering unprecedented problems. No ancient Earth dictatorship offered reference. Nor was he a genius who could invent new solutions—so after fifty stumbling years of trial and error, he finally realized Celia’s words held no falsehood.
That position wasn’t for one man to hold. But he’d already climbed up.
He didn’t know how to come down.
“Can you let go of me now, Your Majesty?” In the bedchamber, Gavin endured as long as he could before gasping from lack of air. “You’re a bit...”
Heinrich reflexively stepped back two paces, then forward again, his hand hesitating in midair. Gavin deftly sidestepped him and bolted for the door. The aggressive Alpha scent finally thinned; he gulped fresh air, and only after a while did the limpness and heat in his body ease slightly.
Was this emperor in rut? The smell was overwhelming.
For the first time, Gavin felt the full force of Alpha pheromones, frustration beyond words. He whirled back and snapped, “When the hell is that experiment of yours...”
“Your Majesty, people from the Royal Military Academy are here,” Bian floated up, red lights flashing, cautiously. “Principal Caroline and Dean Edna came personally.”
Damn, that fast! Now Heinrich was the frustrated one. He kicked over the armchair with a bang.
Caroline’s Fiery Fox had transformed into a red airship, hovering outside the palace gates.
The path from the bedchamber to the landing pad ran along a long aerial corridor. Gavin strode ahead out of habit, the emperor half a step behind, gazing at his expressionless profile.
It won’t be long, he thought silently.
You’ll be back soon.
Caroline and Edna waited at the corridor’s end. Just as they neared, the emperor halted, one hand on Gavin’s shoulder. “There’s something I want to tell you...”
“Hm?”
Gavin turned unguarded, not even speaking before Heinrich grabbed his arm and yanked him close, licking heavily at the nape of his neck.
The sensation struck like lightning, making Gavin unsteady. He managed only a brief gasp before sharp pain exploded near his spine!
Heinrich was biting him!
“You—”
Pain and pleasure warped the ending of his cry. Gavin’s body went soft, caught firmly by the emperor. Heinrich clamped down on that tender patch of skin at the nape without letting go, his sharp canines piercing deep into flesh, nearly tearing the meat free.
The bite lasted a full ten seconds or more.
His fangs savagely punctured the Omega’s hormone gland, injecting Alpha pheromones completely, thoroughly, without reservation. Gavin shuddered violently, unable to struggle, as Heinrich’s scent coursed through his veins, wrapping him from inside out.
Pinpricks of pain and lashes of pleasure scourged every inch of his nerves, leaving him limp and helpless. At last, Heinrich lifted his head, expression satisfied and cruel.
He gripped Gavin tightly and looked toward Edna at the passage’s end. The woman leaned pale against the airship, watching wide-eyed as the emperor smiled victoriously at her, blood on his lips.