Chapter 62
Translator: True Detective
Chapter: 62
Chapter Title: The Rise and the Rift
The Radiant Legion was an army forged in failure, tempered by smoke, flames of war, massacres, and bloodbaths. It had fought on from its founding fleet of three hundred warships down to mere dozens, even a handful at times. Celia himself had danced on the edge of life and death more often than he could count.
During that era, one man had provided the Radiant Legion with immense support—the Alliance Chairman Senkel Konsetlin.
From Celia's recollections, every so often he would leave the Alliance capital on Blueshine Star to visit a certain laboratory on his birthplace, White Egret Star, for a full-body checkup. These fragments were often hazy and indistinct, hard to make out, but Heinrich could clearly sense that Celia's mood was never good during those times. Those fleeting, disjointed images were the result of him deliberately blurring those memories.
Notably, every time he went in for a checkup, Chairman Konsetlin and his granddaughter, the lab director Edna, were both present.
Celia's memories didn't clearly reveal the reason, but it was highly unusual—to say the least. At the time, he wasn't a marshal yet, just a newly promoted general. The Alliance had sixty-two generals like him. Thanks to genetic surgery, they all appeared in their prime, but aside from Celia, every one of them had over thirty years of seniority.
For a mere checkup to warrant the Alliance Chairman's personal oversight, just how deep did the waters run behind Celia?
That period as a general was probably when his relationship with Edna progressed the fastest.
The scenes that appeared most often in his consciousness were of those lush, verdigris mint fields on White Egret Star. The young Edna, in a white dress, lounged on a chaise, her snowy bare feet dangling playfully as she giggled and kicked at Celia, who paced back and forth with a book in hand.
"Are you really that busy? Go get me that mint juice!"
"What are you reading? Stop pacing—sit down already!"
Celia glanced back, adjusting the glasses on his nose with a helpless sigh.
"I've got a mountain of military reports to review..."
Even so, he fetched the mint juice and leaned down to hand it to her.
They sat in the fields reading books, sipping tea, chatting, spending warm and leisurely afternoons together. At dusk, a heavily guarded armed shuttle would land on White Egret Star, and Celia would bid Edna farewell before heading back to the military headquarters on Blueshine Star.
Those might have been their last days of unreserved honesty and smooth serenity. Had time flowed on like that forever, they might truly have married and lived happily ever after.
But fate had other plans. In the winter of Galactic Year 3100, Chairman Senkel Konsetlin was assassinated during an official visit and died despite rescue efforts.
A grand funeral was held in the capital. Edna, clad in black, wept uncontrollably before the crystal casket. Celia, in full military dress, lined up with the other high-ranking Alliance military officials to pay his respects, then broke away from the crowd to approach her.
"My condolences," he said softly, helping her up.
"Heaven's will—"
She seized his hand with a sharp slap and fixed her tear-streaked eyes on him.
"Gavin, I need your help."
Celia froze.
"The chairman election is next month. There are seven candidates, including my father. The one with the most votes wins."
"You..."
"I need your vote." Edna's voice was ironclad.
"Remember, it's not my father who needs it. It's not the Konsetlin family. It's me. I need your personal vote."
Later events would prove that Edna Konsetlin fully lived up to her political lineage. With her sharp, uniquely feminine intuition, her political acumen and instincts sometimes even surpassed Celia's.
Among the seven candidates, her father Douglas Konsetlin hadn't been favored, polling at just 12% of the total votes. But after Celia cast his ballot, within a mere 24 hours, the political winds in the Alliance military shifted completely.
The four votes representing the entire Radiant Legion, after a brief internal vote, all went to Konsetlin. The six votes from the Military Committee had been holding out, but that very afternoon after the Legion's stance, four of them swung to Konsetlin. The garrison forces across the systems followed suit, and by the next day, over 40% of the votes were for Konsetlin...
By the third day, when Celia slipped away from a routine military meeting and realized something was wrong, the Konsetlin family had already scooped up over half the total votes in the Alliance military!
Celia hadn't anticipated that his single, supposedly top-secret vote—sealed until the final tally—would leak through countless channels the instant he hit submit. The puppet master behind it was obvious. And that insignificant personal vote of his, amplified through the Radiant Legion, the Alliance Military Committee, and even local garrisons, had ultimately upended the entire election.
It sparked the first major fight between Celia and Edna since they'd met. In the end, Celia stormed out in fury and refused to attend the Konsetlin family gathering—a huge deal, since he'd planned to formally announce their engagement there with her.
But it was too late to take it back.
Two weeks later, the election results were announced: Douglas Konsetlin won with a 17% lead over the runner-up, becoming the next Alliance Chairman.
Meanwhile, Radiant Legion Commander Gavin Celia was drilling troops on Extreme South Star, skipping the inauguration entirely—not even signing the joint congratulatory telegram from the Military Committee.
Edna flew to Extreme South Star herself and spent over half a month persuading him, finally placating his rage at the cost of adding two vice-chairmen.
Celia returned to Blueshine Star with his troops but said nothing about the scandal in the media. On the surface, it was all water under the bridge. But no temporary truce could hide the truth anyone with eyes could see—
As the scion of a political dynasty, Edna had spotted her boyfriend's immense political potential even before Celia did.
And from that moment, their relationship could never return to what it once was.
In Galactic Year 3120, Celia—backed by his profound war record and prestige—was publicly elected Supreme Marshal of the armed forces, becoming the Alliance's top military authority.
At the inauguration, Celia stood tall in his white military uniform, matching gloves and boots, titanium-silver saber at his waist, three golden emblems on his chest and shoulders symbolizing the ancient Earth's sea, land, and air forces. Expressionless and ramrod straight, he ascended the dais amid the escort of the Radiant Legion's Thirteen Iron Guards, accepting the double-S mecha Phoenix from the chairman's hand—a silver ring—which he slipped onto his left middle finger.
The entire galaxy bore witness.
His gaze flicked down to the audience, locking with Edna's in an electric instant before parting.
That moment etched itself so deeply into his memory that even after centuries, the image remained crystal clear: the opulent hall, Edna in an exquisite designer suit, feathered hat, and silk gloves, elegantly applauding with the crowd. Joy and love still shone in her eyes, but it was hard to tell what was real.
Celia looked away.
Notably, Caroline—who was then serving as the chairman's guard—sat not far off, still a young woman green to the world. Had a camera drone happened to sweep overhead, it would have caught Edna, Celia, and Caroline perfectly positioned at the vertices of an equilateral triangle.
The omens of destiny were already faintly visible.
The year after becoming Alliance Commander-in-Chief, Celia led campaigns along the frontier. By the eighth year, the peripheral systems were largely pacified.
That war cemented his status as a war god and the Alliance's prestige across the galaxy. Voluntary enlistments among 18-to-25-year-olds rose 30%, and applications to the Radiant Legion doubled.
With no major conflicts left in the galaxy, the Alliance entered its first period of peace in centuries.
In this relatively calm climate, Celia once again put their engagement back on the agenda.
By then, Edna was publicly known as the marshal's girlfriend. Their statuses matched, their backgrounds were compatible, and as a rare female Omega, she enjoyed popular approval. Everyone assumed they were a perfect match.
Barring surprises, they would soon hold the engagement ceremony on White Egret Star—Celia had even booked the venue: the mint fields where he'd been born.
But plans rarely survive reality. Just before the ceremony, an unexpected incident occurred.
That evening, as Celia returned from the Military Committee to his suburban private residence, he was shocked to find a bloodied junior officer slumped against the door. He rushed forward to help him up, but the man clutched his hand desperately and gasped out a bombshell:
"Mar... Marshal, Ophiuchus... Ophiuchus Sector has rebelled!"
Celia's pupils contracted sharply.
"The deputy commander beat soldiers to death... the troops protested jointly, got crushed... hundreds dead... Local barracks are all locked down, comms censored. Anyone leaking word... all... all of them..."
The officer gasped for breath, tears streaming down his face.
"We hid on a merchant ship, escaped to Blueshine Star, but military police swarmed us on landing... I'm the only one who got away. I had to come to you..."
Celia's fingers trembled faintly. After a long moment, he stroked the officer's disheveled hair.
"It's okay. I understand. What's your name?"
"Karyan..." Blood foam bubbled from the officer's mouth as he spoke.
"—My name is Karyan."
Thus began the greatest corruption scandal in Alliance military history.
No one expected Celia's decisiveness: that very night, the Provost Marshal was arrested and imprisoned, and the capital defense forces disarmed. The next day, the marshal's guard arrived in Ophiuchus Sector. The Thirteen Iron Guards descended like wolves, their first act binding the sector garrison commander.
Local reports soon reached the marshal. That afternoon, Celia personally led troops to surround the military HQ. Facing the hastily arriving Chairman Douglas, he said only one thing:
"The military's cleaning house. Go mind the council."
It proved even Douglas couldn't contain it. The fire spread from the military to the council, unearthing scandals that left politicians scrambling to flee.
Embezzlement, malfeasance, arms smuggling, dereliction of duty... one shocking crime after another exposed under broad daylight. In just two months, dozens of councilors fell.
At first, Chairman Douglas tried to halt the probes, but as evidence increasingly implicated the Konsetlin family, even he fell silent.
Those were the two most earth-shaking months for Alliance political factions. The anticorruption storm swept from local garrisons to central command, then engulfed the Supreme Council. Officials were "invited to chat" daily—most never returned home. Families were surveilled, accounts frozen, assets scoured clean.
That was the merciful part. Councilors in the administrative system at least got a "chat" first; play it right, and you might dodge asset liquidation. But in the military—where Celia held absolute sway—implicated officers got no such courtesy. Disarmed and confined on the spot, assets liquidated immediately. If something was off, someone might come "talk." But if it was too egregious, no talk: straight to military tribunal to face the marshal himself.
The storm raged four full months. The council lost sixty-two members, the military saw forty colonels arrested, thirty-nine generals stripped of rank—including eight generals. Celia wanted to press on, but the rot ran deeper than imaginable, on the verge of implicating Chairman Douglas himself.
"You have to stop!" That night, Edna forced a connection to the marshal's office and roared at Celia in front of his guards:
"The council's a mess already! Keep this up, and the administration collapses! Stop this madness now—stand down!"
Celia stood at his desk, expression icy.
"What do you propose?"
"Dissolve the task force. Release all detained officials home immediately. Bury the whole affair from now on! Destroy all sealed files..."
"No."
"—What?"
"I said no." Celia's voice was calm.
"I'll pause for now, but those files will be preserved permanently as basis for reopening the investigation. Evidence pointing to Chairman Konsetlin has been secured. I'll make my choice anew at the next election."
Edna seemed to choke, then slowly asked after a long pause:
"Do you have to speak to me like this?"
Silence answered her.
"Gavin... do you remember? The day before yesterday was supposed to be our engagement day."
Celia averted his gaze, murmuring:
"I went to White Egret Star that day."
"You went to White Egret Star," Edna said coldly.
"But you didn't come get me first."
The spacious office fell quiet. They stared across the holoscreen, breaths audible.
At length, Edna gave a bitter laugh.
"Forget it. It's not the first postponement. Next time."
The hologram vanished as she cut the call.
Celia sank slowly into his chair, hand to his brow, face unreadable. Moments later, he waved silently; the two guards retreated like pardoned men.
"You can come in now, Karyan," Celia said softly.
Karyan, waiting statue-still outside the door, startled and shuffled in with a tea tray, face flushed with embarrassment.
"Sorry, Marshal. I didn't mean to..."
"It's fine. What tea is this?"
"Mint—"
Karyan stole a glance at Celia, hesitated seconds, then carefully set the cup before him, blurting:
"Actually, I think Miss Edna knew about the Ophiuchus mutiny long ago, but..."
"I know. That's why she wanted to get engaged early."
"...There are plenty of good girls out there, Marshal." Karyan swallowed hard, treading lightly.
"And the Konsetlin name isn't great with the garrisons. Miss Edna just wants to tie you to their ship. If it were a clean-born, virtuous girl instead—"
"Karyan," Celia said gravely.
"Shut up."
Karyan clamped his mouth shut, murmuring after a beat:
"Sorry, Marshal."
Celia sipped the tea, steam veiling his lowered lashes, expression inscrutable. Karyan hovered anxiously, bracing for a hurled cup and dismissal. But after a long while, Celia's voice came even and serene:
"Have you ever thought of going back to Ophiuchus Sector?"
...Was this banishment to his old post? Karyan's eyes dimmed.
"I can leave anytime... Thank you for your care these days. I'll explain to my CO myself back there."
He couldn't really explain— Celia had covered for his whistleblowing before the council, but a man vanishing and reappearing wouldn't fool the garrisons. His CO would notice. With so many dragged down in the purge, they couldn't touch the powerful Celia, but squashing a small fry like him for venting? Easy.
The more Karyan thought, the more bitter he grew, steeling for a forced farewell—when Celia shook his head.
"How could you explain to your CO yourself? If they knew, you'd have a hundred lives and still die."
"Here's the deal: I've got openings for personal guards. Want to join my detail?"
Karyan couldn't believe his ears. His heart pounded, blood rushing to his head.
"But I'm—but I'm just a junior officer, not even Capitol Military Academy grad—"
"I never went to military academy," Celia remarked dryly.
Karyan gaped futilely, closed, gaped again, finally squeezing out:
"Th-then... yes... I mean, I accept... no, I'm honored to..."
But his oath of loyalty would go unfinished.
Celia rose, clapped his shoulder, shoved the empty cup into his hands, and strode from the office.