Chapter 23
Chapter 23
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Translator: True Detective
Chapter: 23
Chapter Title: Lingering Mark
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That moment, Gavin nearly lost consciousness, completely limp in Heinrich's arms, the intense sensation of being invaded sending waves of dizziness through his head.
Heinrich finally released him onto the shuttle, thoroughly satisfied. The overwhelming sense of victory had dulled the instinctive discomfort of personally sending away an Omega that belonged to him.
Edna trembled with rage, about to say something when Caroline yanked her back and made a silencing gesture.
"The Mecha League—I shall attend," Heinrich said casually as he turned around. "Just wait for the handover of the Phoenix."
With a wave of his hand, he strode back along the aerial corridor. Edna nearly lunged at him to slap him, but Caroline held her back firmly.
Fire Fox shuttled them back to the Royal Military Academy. Gavin dozed off hazily in the back seat the whole way, impossible to tell if he was even conscious.
Caroline and Edna remained silent until Fire Fox pulled up in front of the dorm building. Gavin shuddered awake with a shiver, his limbs weak as he pushed open the door and stumbled out.
Edna leaned forward to say something, but Gavin, as if he had eyes in the back of his head, waved her off decisively.
"But—"
Gavin slammed the door with a "bang!" and staggered up the stairs.
"He's in no mood to listen," Caroline said softly once they were alone in the shuttle. "The Marshal was never one to be easily controlled."
Edna slammed the armrest hard, gritting her teeth. "Heinrich doesn't deserve to be Emperor. He's nothing but a thief!"
"He wants Celia. If he can't have the real thing, a close substitute will do. Do you know what Celia means to him? He was his teacher, who taught him every political maneuver and military tactic, elevating him from a penniless cadet to a league general. He was his superior, who led him through all those famous campaigns, rewarding him with honors, glory, and status beyond his wildest dreams. And he's the unattainable goal of his life—a man with five centuries of accumulated knowledge and wisdom that boggles the mind, capable of solving problems Heinrich could never touch."
Caroline paused before continuing. "The Empire faces all sorts of crises now, and Heinrich can't handle them alone. Under the current political system, he doesn't dare delegate too much power, lest he create a new dictator to overthrow him. But he needs to distribute decision-making authority, so his first step is institutional reform."
"Restoring the Alliance system?" Edna asked sharply.
"Possibly, though not necessarily that extreme." Caroline shook her head. "The problem is, this kind of reform will completely undermine the interests of the ruling class and cause unrest and panic among the lower strata. Heinrich's personal prestige isn't enough yet—he doesn't dare challenge all his opponents single-handedly. But with Celia, it's different."
"The Marshal is a man who died on his pedestal. If he has descendants, they would be seen as the inheritors and symbols of the Alliance spirit, greatly easing fears of reform across society while bolstering faith in the Emperor."
Caroline spoke slowly. "Heinrich needs such a descendant. If he can't produce a real one, a fake will do just fine."
Edna gasped. "He can't possibly produce a real one. That body in the Phoenix is—"
"An Alpha," Caroline cut in firmly. "Fortunately, he doesn't know that yet."
Silence fell in the cabin as both women thought of the upcoming academy mecha league.
". . . Caroline," Edna asked softly after a long pause. "Deep down, you actually support Heinrich's reforms, don't you?"
Caroline nodded.
Edna whipped her head around, her face in the porthole reflecting a mix of disappointment and resentment.
"I've never wanted to hide that from you," Caroline said quietly. She paused before asking, "And you... you haven't hidden anything from me, right?"
Edna was silent for a long time before replying faintly, "No, I haven't."
Gavin returned to the dorm and collapsed straight onto the bed, without even the strength to sit up.
Every muscle in his body ached and tingled with numbness, his veins throbbing faintly inside him, his brain seemingly solidified by some thick, sweet fluid—hazy and unable to turn.
His second-generation officer roommate Jing had come back midway, humming a tune while carrying takeout. He jumped the moment he entered, hit by the thick Alpha pheromones permeating the room. The instinctive repulsion of one of his kind made every hair on his body stand on end. "What the hell?! Gavin?! Gavin, what's wrong?!"
Gavin vaguely heard his shouts but couldn't make them out or respond.
Jing slammed the takeout box onto the table and rushed to Gavin's bedroom, shoving the door open. He staggered back two steps from the intense Alpha pheromones. "This—whose is this? Aren't you a Beta? What happened?!"
". . ."
Gavin, utterly spent: "Get out."
Jing didn't wait for a second word. He slammed the door shut again with a bang.
It was like being pricked by a needle—the instant he encountered Heinrich's pheromones, his instincts issued a fierce warning. This scent belonged to an extremely ferocious Alpha, older, stronger, and aggressive beyond measure. Absolutely not to be provoked.
The threat was so vivid that Jing paced the living room in circles, too agitated to sit. Finally, he mustered the courage to knock on the door, his voice trembling. "G-Gavin, I left dinner on the table. Can you come out and get it yourself?"
". . . Get out."
Jing bolted from the dorm, clutching his head, and headed to the library to crash for the night.
That night, Gavin couldn't tell if he was asleep or awake, his consciousness drifting between clarity and haze. Only in the early hours did he finally drift off into a hazy slumber.
He dreamed he was back on that sunlit aerial corridor. Heinrich pinned him dead against the wall like a beast looming over its mate, his eyes gleaming with undisguised bloodlust. "You'll be back soon, you know that?"
. . . Why is this happening? How am I being controlled by someone?
An urgent voice raged inside him, urging him to struggle, but in the dream, his limbs were limp and powerless. He tried to shout in rebuke, but only desperate gasps escaped.
Heinrich laughed, his gaze a mix of satisfaction and hunger. He leaned down and kissed the corner of Gavin's mouth.
"You won't leave again," he whispered against his ear. "Not this time."
The thick Alpha pheromones on Gavin finally began to fade on the third day.
That meant the pheromones had fully entered his bloodstream, occupying his body for a long time to come—declaring ownership to everyone and preventing any other Alpha from marking him.
Of course, if a stronger Alpha than Heinrich appeared, remarking him would not only be possible but legal, even against Gavin's will. But on White Egret Star, no Alpha stronger than the Emperor had ever appeared, so the odds were negligible.
As for the academy elites, they were negative five in combat power compared to Heinrich—they could only watch helplessly.
Gavin finally recovered from his exhaustion, forced down some food, and headed to mecha team training.
The inter-academy mecha league, jointly hosted by all imperial schools, was set for two days later. The main venue was the Royal Military Academy's uninhabited zone spanning 2.6 million square kilometers. Dean had been hounding him like mad these past two days, but Gavin was too drained to reply, managing only to mark emails as "read."
On the way, he messaged Dean, telling him he was heading to the mecha team and to come over if he wanted to train together.
By the time he arrived, it was dusk. The training ground was nearly empty. Gavin grabbed his combat uniform and went straight to the locker room. Hardly any Betas ever entered the mecha team, so all facilities were designed for Alphas. The locker room was just an open space divided into semi-enclosed cubicles. He tossed his jacket into a middle cubicle and was pulling off his T-shirt when heavy footsteps echoed from behind.
A few seconds later, the steps halted, and Claire's puzzled voice rang out. ". . . Who's there?"
Gavin didn't respond.
His Alpha pheromones were like an arrogant challenge to other males. Claire's first instinct was that an intruder had breached the mecha team. He drew a dagger from his boot and charged to the cubicle entrance. "Who's there? Come out! You—huh?!"
He froze mid-step, staring at Gavin in disbelief.
Gavin stood sideways, not even glancing over, slowly zipping up his tight combat uniform.
In that instant, Claire tensed up all over. The unfamiliar Alpha's oppressive aura nearly made him lose control. When he snapped back, he realized he'd retreated two steps, fury surging through him in humiliated rage. ". . . Who marked you?!"
Gavin fastened his cuffs, locked his bag in the locker, and brushed past.
From start to finish, Gavin showed no expression, but Claire was on the verge of exploding. "Stop right there! Who was it—who marked you?!"
He spun around and grabbed Gavin's elbow, gripping so hard the veins bulged terrifyingly on the back of his hand. A few seconds later, Gavin turned back, cold as ice. "Who the hell are you?"
Claire choked.
Gavin shook him off and strode out.
The training field outside was deserted. Gavin walked to the wire fence and shut his eyes tightly.
Outwardly, he seemed almost indifferently calm, but the turmoil inside was beyond anyone's imagination.
Fortunately, the long years had taught him patience. He took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, repeated it several times, and finally felt calm return, the irritation and unease swept away.
"Gavin! Where have you been these past two days? I've been—" Dean's voice came from behind, then froze. "You—you're—"
Gavin said calmly, "Shut up."
He turned around. Dean stared in utter disbelief, eyes locked on his neck.
The combat uniform's collar wasn't high. As Gavin turned, the bite mark on his nape flashed by, still showing faint bloodstains. Dean could sense the Alpha who left it was a total stranger—but ferociously powerful.
The savage aggression was palpable even from several steps away, instinctively making him want to step back half a pace.
". . . Who?" Dean's voice was strained and tight. "No—not from the academy... Who did this?"
Gavin's brow twitched faintly. After a long pause, he forced calm into his tone. "None of your business."
The rejection was clear, but Dean's mind buzzed, hearing nothing. Trembling, he stepped forward and grabbed Gavin's shoulder just as he tried to sidestep, burying his face to sniff hard several times.
He was like a wolf threatened by a superior male, hackles raised, breathing ragged, desperately trying to detect the sweet Omega scent hidden beneath the stranger Alpha's pheromone barrier.
But Heinrich's physiological superiority as an Alpha was overwhelming. Dean might excel among cadets, but he was nothing before the Emperor. Soon, the foreign male Alpha scent drove him into a frenzy of agitation.
"Who the hell is it?" He sniffed frantically at Gavin's nape, dying to sink his teeth in, but instinct held him back under the threat. The inner turmoil and rage threatened to drown him. "Who did it... Who? Tell me!"
The last words came out almost as a roar, but Gavin's response was to seize his throat in a reverse grip and slam his furious face against the wire fence with a "clang!"
"The match is the day after tomorrow. You better get yourself together first," he said coldly, looking down at Dean. "I'll find you for training tomorrow."
Bloodshot veins filled Dean's eyes, making him look terrifying in his rage.
But Gavin's gaze was calm and commanding. He stared unmoving for a few seconds before releasing him, letting him slide off the fence.
"I—"
Gavin cut him off with a sharp "stop" gesture, so decisive that Dean clamped his mouth shut involuntarily.
"See you later." Gavin ended it curtly and walked away from the training field under Dean's burning stare.