Chapter 61
Chapter 61
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Translator: True Detective
Chapter: 61
Chapter Title: Forged in the Desert
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“Gavin,” the black-robed youth walked up to Celia’s side and nudged him gently with his toe. “How’d you end up sleeping right here? Gavin?”
That raspy voice was so unmistakable—Heinrich recognized it in an instant. It was Yunes from his teenage years!
Back then, Yunes wasn’t as pale and sinister as he was now. His eye sockets were deep, his browbones prominent, his lips pressed thin, giving his face a hint of malice. He stood there waiting for a moment. Seeing that Celia really seemed to be fast asleep, he sat down on the grass and stared at him blankly.
Cicadas chirped in the distance. The brilliant galaxy stretched overhead like a ribbon of light. Celia’s face was serene in the starlight. Yunes watched him for a while, then slowly leaned down to kiss his lips.
But the moment their breaths intertwined, Celia’s eyes snapped open. He threw up a hand to block him.
“What’re you doing?”
Yunes froze.
The two locked eyes for a moment. Celia quirked up one corner of his mouth, his gaze turning wicked.
“I just...” Yunes stammered.
But Celia didn’t wait for him to finish. He stood up and walked off.
The scene around them shifted abruptly, as if an invisible hand had swept past Heinrich’s face. The world turned into a hazy yellow expanse of wind-whipped sand.
Stinging grit pelted their faces like fire. Then blood erupted into the sky nearby. Celia let out a heartbroken scream.
“Master—!”
Before the words faded, a head tumbled free. The headless corpse dropped to its knees with a thud. The black-gold spear crashed heavily into the sand.
“Master! Master—!”
Celia’s voice cracked with raw anguish. He stumbled forward, desperate to reach him, but several Dark Star warriors pinned him down at once.
Dragon riders swooped in from the sky. The high-ranking warriors atop them were drenched in blood, fresh from a brutal fight. Yunes led them, long saber in hand, gazing down imperiously at Celia.
“How was that?”
His face twisted in cruel nonchalance, like an actor fresh off a killer performance. His voice dripped with satisfaction.
“Give it a review, Gavin?”
They forced Celia to his knees in the sand. He wept uncontrollably, thrashing with the fury of a dying man. Again and again, he lunged for his master’s gray-haired head, but the Dark Star warriors barely held him back.
In the chaos, Yunes flicked his blade up under Celia’s chin. The tip pierced skin instantly.
“You knew this day was coming. Why betray me?”
Celia’s head jerked back. Blood trickled down his throat and soaked into his collar. His teeth chattered.
“Yunes... Yunes!”
Hatred flooded his voice. His right hand wrenched free of its bonds. He seized the blade tight. Blood poured from his palm.
“Today, it’s you or me—!”
Yunes’s face twisted. No one could hold Celia back. The youth gripped the edge bare-handed and whipped around, slashing the throat of the warrior behind him!
“Hold him!”
The high-rankers bellowed in unison. Yunes drove his dragon rider down in a dive. But a sideways dragon rider slammed into him with a resounding bang, hurling him aside!
The chaos was a blur. Hemmed in by Dark Star warriors, Celia unleashed a piercing roar that split the heavens. Over a dozen dragon riders shook off their pilots and shot skyward. They collided in midair and detonated!
The fireball dwarfed the sun. Burning debris rained from the billowing black smoke like a storm. Everyone scattered, howling.
Yunes tumbled across the sand, then scrambled up. He charged Celia, blade high. A hand clamped his throat mid-leap. He slammed face-first into the ground!
“You bastard! Why don’t you just die—!”
Celia was berserk, throttling Yunes with everything he had. He didn’t even feel the two blades hacking into his back. Not until the third one. A sideways blow sent him crashing down, blood spraying from his mouth!
Yunes hacked out coughs and lurched to his feet. He seized the blood-drenched Celia.
“You traitor—”
A diving dragon rider smashed him flat. He rolled in disgrace down the dune.
The rider scooped Celia midair and streaked like a comet to the headless corpse. Celia snatched the black-gold spear. He cradled his master’s head and clutched it to his chest.
“—Dark Star Hall!”
The dragon rider vanished into the distance. Celia’s shrill scream echoed, laced with bloodthirst, shredding every eardrum.
“You’re doomed to die by my hand! No whole corpses left! Dark Star Hall—!!”
`
Heinrich had heard Edna’s account before. He’d thought Celia raced back to the Alliance right after his master’s death, formed the Radiant Legion, and drilled his troops relentlessly for revenge against Dark Star Hall.
Now he knew better.
Deep in the desert, the young Celia buried his master. He knelt before the crude stone marker and wept for a full day and night.
Then he built a grass hut. And stayed. Guarding the little grave.
The winds howled. Water and food were scarce. Celia hunted sand bats with the black-gold spear to survive. Each morning, he hauled buckets far afield to hunt ancient wells. By day, he cured bat hides in the blistering sun. At dusk, passing caravans let him trade them for supplies.
The memories were mundane fragments. But Heinrich sensed the quiet shift in Celia’s heart. Day after day of toil steadied something deep inside. The restlessness and rage ebbed away. Sharp, youthful edges softened. Like rough amber polished smooth by time, until it gleamed with a warm, subtle light.
Desert caravans took notice of the lone tomb-keeper. Legends sprang up, wrapped in mystery and allure.
One day, after a trade, the caravan leader grabbed Celia’s hand.
“Will you come with me?”
“...”
Celia shook his head and pulled free.
The leader’s face fell.
“But—why?”
“I have other business.”
Celia met his eyes with faint regret. Heinrich saw it then: the old wickedness gone from his gaze. In its place—peace. Resolve. Unbreakable.
The leader’s words marked a turning point. Celia had guarded the tomb for three full years.
Desert custom demanded it. A master dies; the student guards three years before leaving. That was how generations of wasteland hunters lived. The rule seemed cruel, pointless. But it was the elders’ final gift: protection, restraint. The wastes teemed with bloodshed. A fallen master left grieving, vengeful apprentices. Without the rule, they’d charge off—and die for nothing.
Some burned for revenge. They trained relentlessly through the vigil, struck true on the final day, and became desert legends.
Not Celia. That was a pipe dream.
He was one man against Dark Star Hall. A nightmare syndicate that spanned star systems for centuries. Even the Alliance couldn’t touch them.
That dusk, the caravan spotted the grass hut in flames from afar. Fire bled into the endless sunset. Black smoke plumed high.
They feared bandits. Rushed over.
The youth stood calm before the blaze. Coarse cloak draped him. Black-gold spear in hand. He turned at their approach and smiled faintly.
“I’m leaving. Can your merchant ship give me a lift?”
They exchanged glances. The leader voiced their worry.
“Where to?”
“The Alliance.”
Celia paused.
“Blue Tide Star, Alliance capital.”
Twenty years after young Gavin Celia’s exile, he returned to the heart of Alliance power.
That year, they named him major. He guarded the capital.
Next year, gene engineers cleared him: danger level normal or below. Indices off the charts. Colonel. Battlefield command.
Frequent skirmishes fast-tracked his rise. Second spring: border states invaded. Local commander slain. Celia took charge. Counterattacked clean. Repelled them. Turned the tide. Colonel.
Soon after: garrison mutiny. Parliament panicked. Celia brokered peace between troops and government. Major general.
Grueling years of endurance. From lone survivor to rising star. Followers multiplied. Decades of fire and blood.
Parliament dispatched him across battlefields. Merits piled up. Ranks climbed. He won the loyalty of most mid- and low-tier officers.
Galactic Year 3000. Border wars swelled. Garrisons fractured. Calls rose for a direct Alliance legion.
Parliament reelected ex-Chairman Konseltin. His first order: stand up the Alliance’s inaugural direct-line elite combat force. Official name: Central Direct No. 1 Air Combat Unit.
History knew it as the Radiant Legion.
Gavin Celia received his lieutenant general’s stars. Supreme commander.