Chapter 51
Chapter 51
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Translator: True Detective
Chapter: 51
Chapter Title: The Emperor's Welcome
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His Majesty Set Heinrich was chased breathless by the giant serpent and snarled, “Aaron—! This time I’m gonna beat your guts out!!”
The emperor and the marshal bolted down the corridor, the massive serpent hot on their heels, smashing through walls in a shower of debris. Aaron sat astride the serpent’s back and, upon hearing this, drew his blade in a flourish. Countless arcs of electricity erupted, flipping up the metal floor of the corridor.
Heinrich nearly tripped over the flying chunks of debris, but fortunately, Gavin stayed focused even while fleeing. He yanked Heinrich to his feet. Amid the chaos, the Gryphon slipped from his grasp, tracing a blazing arc of reddish-gold through the air before the emperor snatched it back and whirled around for a shot!
With a thunderous boom, the serpent recoiled. The Gryphon shrieked, “General Aaron, aaaaaah—!”
“He’s not dead yet!” Heinrich fumed. “Why haven’t you transformed?!”
“I can’t! Not enough energy!”
“…Where’s your energy?”
“Gave it to the phoenix!”
Heinrich’s body temperature plummeted twenty degrees, practically summoning snowflakes. Gavin acted oblivious, cool and composed as ever, pointing to a side passage at the end of the corridor. “This way!”
The passage was small and narrow—the serpent’s bulk couldn’t squeeze through for the moment, and even smashing it open by brute force would take time. The path led to a tiny parts room, where the two crammed behind the metal door. Heinrich finally untangled his thoughts. “So Aaron’s under the control of Dark Star Hall warriors? Can he snap out of it?”
Gavin wasn’t as sturdy as an Alpha. He braced his knees, panting for a bit before replying, “Y-Yeah… Mental control links through the Void Serpent. First, we have to figure out which one.”
“Not the one outside?”
“Not necessarily. Dark Star Hall breeds tons of them.”
“They can… hypnotize soldiers like Aaron through the serpents?” Heinrich had only lived two hundred years, half of it spent at war, so he knew little of the obscure secrets lurking in the depths of the cosmos. “I’ve only heard you mention how the winds on Voidspace Star refract souls, but I’ve never heard of Void Serpents…”
“When did I ever tell you something that ridiculous?” Gavin’s memories from his Alliance days clearly hadn’t returned, but in this dire moment, he didn’t press the issue. He just said offhandedly, “What refracts souls on Voidspace Star isn’t wind—it’s higher intelligences existing in electromagnetic form. Void Serpents are lesser creatures that easily accept third-party mental intrusions, so Dark Star Hall typically uses them for infiltration, reconnaissance, surveillance… They have a technique that lets a person’s mind enter the serpent’s brain. When thousands of warriors fight in serpent form, regular armies can’t defend against it.”
Heinrich’s mind raced. He recalled how, over four hundred years ago during Dark Star Hall’s most active period, several minor nations had fallen to “serpent plagues.” That must have been their handiwork. By contrast, the Alliance had never suffered defeats against Dark Star Hall. Did Celia have some secret methods unknown to most?
“We have to kill that serpent,” Gavin said, glancing toward the pitch-black corridor beyond the door. He pondered. “It’s not just their cult totem—it’s also the eyes and ears of Dark Star Hall’s high-ranking warriors in this town…”
Before he could finish, a flash of light erupted from deep within the parts room. Heinrich whipped around to see a black rift tear open in midair, and Aaron’s figure step through.
He crashed to the ground with a thud, slowly rising to his feet, his face twisted with murderous rage as he fixed his glare on Heinrich and Gavin.
In that instant, the cramped space froze solid.
“You two…” Aaron’s voice was low and rasping. “What the hell are you?”
For a split second, Heinrich wanted to kick him and roar, What am I? I’m the damn emperor! But he swallowed the urge and said coldly, “The problem isn’t us. It’s you, Anders Aaron. You’re an Imperial general—when did you turn into a Dark Star Hall warrior?”
Aaron jolted slightly, the bloodlust and fury clouding his mind easing just a fraction. Heinrich’s face—icy expression, hard lines—suddenly surfaced from the depths of his memory: vast fleets on the march, battlefields ablaze with cannon fire, the bright yet desolate red deserts of Crimson Earth Star under moonlight, and cold tombstones amid tears…
“Heinrich…?” he murmured, his gaze drifting blankly to Gavin. “C… Celia?”
Gavin nodded slightly, but his grip on the reddish-gold military blade didn’t loosen.
By now, Gavin’s features closely resembled those of the young Celia commander. Aaron narrowed his eyes, struggling to make him out as his mind flickered between clarity and haze.
In a daze, he recalled a scene from long ago: himself kneeling covered in blood, a gleaming silver blade at his throat. Celia gripped the hilt, face thunderous as he stared down, mouth opening and closing as if bellowing something—but the chaos around them drowned it all out.
When was this?
He felt like he was adrift in a noisy ocean, the searing pain at his neck the only vivid reality. After a moment, his own voice finally sharpened: “…Just kill me already! Go on and kill me! I’d rather die clean now than waste away suffocating in this filthy Alliance!…”
“Shut up!” Celia smashed him to the ground with the flat of his blade. “You too, joining Heinrich in rebellion? You wanna die with him?!”
Aaron hit the floor, blood rushing to his head. “Rebellion, so what?! The Alliance screwed you over, Marshal! Only by breaking free from those old bastards can we carve our own path. If you just took absolute power…”
A sharp crack rang out as Celia flattened him again with the blade’s side.
The agony made Aaron writhe. The surrounding clamor grew louder, like countless senators whispering overhead. Humiliation, rage, and resentment filled him. He dragged himself up, snarling, “You just wait—”
Before he could finish, a hand clamped down on him. He turned to see Heinrich, kneeling beside him.
Heinrich looked even more battered, face caked in blood and dust, but his eyes held firm resolve as he shook his head gently.
“You…” Aaron trailed off, on the verge of breaking into sobs.
Celia stared them down coldly, then turned and strode away. Aaron looked up through tears, hearing only his cold parting words: “No execution for now. Lock these traitors up.”
Murmurs exploded around them. Several senators shot to their feet. “Marshal! How can you not execute these traitors?” “What are you thinking?!” “We demand immediate execution, now!”…
But Celia ignored them.
He headed for the assembly hall doors, glancing back at Aaron one last time before leaving. That look was so indescribable that even centuries later, it remained seared into the heart of Imperial General Anders Aaron—
It was exactly the same as the one now.
“Celia…” Aaron murmured, eyes unfocused. “Marshal Celia…”
In the parts room, Gavin’s hand tightened and loosened on his blade. Aaron took a step forward, as if straining to recognize them—but then, behind them—BOOM!
Metal shards rained down as the massive serpent head thrust through the shattered door, like a small mountain. Its lantern-like yellow eyes swept the cramped room before locking onto Gavin.
This gaze was utterly different from its wild rampage in the hall earlier—far colder, more cunning, almost human… Heinrich’s nerves snapped taut. “—Who the hell are you?!”
The serpent flicked its tongue, and its eerie face seemed to smirk.
“Worthy of an emperor,” it hissed, the words barely discernible if you strained to listen. “And—Celia, you look… tsk tsk…”
Gavin said coldly, “Yunes.”
He reached out, and the Gryphon reassembled into an arm-mounted electromagnetic cannon, barrel spinning to aim at the serpent’s head. But the beast didn’t flinch, mocking, “First private meeting in ages, and you can’t even be bothered to reminisce about old times?”
No sooner had it spoken than—BOOM!—the electromagnetic cannon fired from Gavin’s shoulder!
The Void Serpent’s hide was iron-hard, but at this range, even tungsten alloy would melt into slag from an electromagnetic blast—The trio bolted as the shot rocketed out, but after two steps, the serpent let out a piercing hiss!
A long spatial rift cracked open before it like lightning, swallowing the cannon round into the dark void at the last second. A muffled thunderclap followed!
The shockwave wasn’t as devastating as a direct indoor explosion, but it was close. The entire building shook violently, amplitude so fierce the ceiling crumbled, debris cascading like a storm.
The serpent thrashed wildly, its colossal body jamming the corridor solid. Gavin stumbled, about to fall, when Heinrich caught him from behind. Amid the quake, they staggered out into the hall, diving under a barely standing metal pillar.
“You okay?” Gavin barked.
For an instant, Heinrich wished he wasn’t—but after a quick check, he reluctantly pointed to some flesh wounds on his arm. “N-No… I’m fine.”
“…”
Gavin went silent, slapping Heinrich’s muscled arm. The Gryphon burst into light-computer form, frantic. “What about General Aaron—?!”
The tremors rumbled on. Heinrich shook his head. “We’ll save him later!”
Gavin asked casually, “You two close?”
“Rivals in love!”
“…”
“Kidding,” Heinrich pressed Gavin into a corner. “We’ve been best bros since school—not like you and Yunes’s kind of ‘bros’… Later we both became your guards, rose up against the Alliance together. Only one thing I regret about him.”
“…What?”
“The Chenqiao Mutiny.” Heinrich enunciated each word, then gave a cold laugh. “I dragged Aaron into it on purpose—figured if he was there, even if it failed, you wouldn’t execute us. Turns out I was right. You withstood the council’s pressure, commuted execution to exile. But if it’d just been me…”
He paused, his voice lost in the surrounding din:
“Maybe… there’d be no Empire now.”
Gavin froze.
The ground heaved, the serpent roared, and amid the apocalyptic chaos, their eyes met—the emperor’s ice-blue gaze deep as the sea.
Gavin opened his mouth, then murmured after a beat, “Don’t sell yourself short.”
At the same moment in the parts room, the serpent finally withdrew its front half from the collapsed door, twisting with impossible agility for its size. It burst out, head crowned in metal rubble!
The roof had mostly caved in by now, the serpent’s raised head protruding outside. The street went silent for seconds—then exploded in screams: “Help!” “Snake! Snake!” “Everyone run—!”
The serpent sneered disdainfully, plunging its head into the enforcement hall. It scoured the wreckage for Gavin, but the corner was well-hidden. Heinrich snatched the Gryphon cannon first, aiming at the beast’s swaying thick neck—
The shot was perfect, timed to the instant it turned its head. The blast arced long, hurling the serpent’s entire body skyward!
No time for a spatial gate this time—the Void Serpent demolished the outer wall, its multi-ton bulk sailing into the street.
It flattened at least seven or eight buildings and dozens of trees. Residents screamed and fled in all directions amid deafening cries for help. Heinrich tossed the smoking cannon to Gavin, then scooped him up by the waist and climbed from the rubble-strewn corner to street level.
The street was deserted, the serpent’s body sprawled across town, tail still twitching. Gavin glanced at the night sky. “This commotion’s too big. Dark Star warriors from nearby settlements will swarm here…”
—He was right. Shrill alarms pierced the distant sky. Dark Star warriors from surrounding habitats would mobilize and converge overhead soon.
But Heinrich didn’t reply. After a moment, he grinned oddly. “Celia—”
Gavin glanced at him, eyes narrowing.
“This planet will soon fall under Imperial control. By dawn, the Ninth Fleet will seize Shurong Star’s airspace, and the land beneath our feet will fully revert to Imperial territory.”
Heinrich stepped back half a pace, spreading his arms dramatically.
At the same time, in the distant night sky behind him, dazzling points of light bloomed like a starry sea—that was the White Heron Star Ninth Fleet, the Gemini Empire’s sole all-Alpha elite legion.
“This feels like our first time standing on Imperial soil as old comrades, identities out in the open… Celia, got anything to say?”
Gavin stared at Heinrich, slowly steadying himself on his blade, face impassive.
“Nothing?” Heinrich smiled. “I do.”
The emperor extended a hand to Gavin, like a solemn invitation, his tone even polite:
“In the name of the emperor, welcome you, dear Marshal Celia—to the Gemini Empire.”