Chapter 71
Chapter 71
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Translator: True Detective
Chapter: 71
Chapter Title: Chaos at the Gala
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In that instant, countless people shot to their feet, tables and chairs toppling over in the chaos. Many had their feet crushed but felt nothing.
"Celia—"
"No, no, it can't be..."
"It's really Marshal Celia!"
The crowd surged forward like a tidal wave. The diplomats abandoned all pretense of decorum, shoving and jostling one another in a frantic rush for the door. Some even stumbled and lost their shoes without noticing.
Celia watched it all in silence, his face devoid of any expression, not even a twitch of his brows.
He stepped into the opulent venue, and the moment his foot touched the ground, an invisible force seemed to compel everyone to step back involuntarily, clearing a path for him. Every face bore an expression of disbelief, awe, and fear. The screams vanished as abruptly as boiling water pressed down by a lid.
Celia strode along the path through the crowd toward the dais, all eyes locked on him. After a long moment, someone trembled and asked, "Marshal, have you really come back?"
Though faint, the voice pierced the deathly silence of the hall.
Like a stone dropped into water, ripples spread rapidly, expanding outward. Soon, the entire crowd stirred again. "Is it true, Marshal?"
"Marshal, do you remember us? The Zhongmian System!"
"Will you continue our military contract?! We're the Extragalactic Autonomous Province!"
"Will the Alliance go to war with the Empire right away? Please answer us, Marshal!"
...
The clamor swelled, nearly lifting the roof. But Celia seemed oblivious to it all, his icy profile unmoving as he cut straight through the throng. Under the varied gazes of the parliamentarians, he ascended the dais.
At that moment, Speaker Marcus had just set down his micro-communicator and nodded slightly to Celia, seemingly by chance.
The gesture was too quick—even Douglas Konsetlin, standing beside him, didn't notice. He surged forward instead. "Marshal, the Alliance welcomes your return—"
Before he could finish, a black-clad figure abruptly stood and blocked Celia's path with an outstretched hand.
Douglas faltered, peering closely to see it was Yunes.
"Celia," he said coldly, seizing Celia's wrist.
In that instant, all the surrounding din faded into the distance. The panicked speaker, the puzzled Douglas, the excited crowd's stares—all blurred into the background as their eyes met.
"Lord Yunes..." Speaker Marcus took a step forward, then awkwardly halted.
"Is it you?" Yunes's voice was hoarse and icy, audible only to them. "—My dear Celia?"
Yunes's serpentine vertical pupils seemed to pierce straight into the soul, stabbing into Celia's eye sockets. But the latter's face showed no ripple of emotion, his gaze still as stagnant water. Not even—not even the pulse in his wrist betrayed any change.
Yunes's gaze shifted slightly.
Could this really be the test subject?
Then who killed Barnett last night?!
"Lord Yunes." Douglas suddenly stepped forward, signaling with his eyes for him to let go.
With all eyes on them, the test subject lingering too long might reveal flaws. Yunes stared at Celia wordlessly for several seconds before slowly releasing his hand and stepping back half a pace.
Douglas finally exhaled in relief. He signaled his aides to guide the "test subject" to his seat while turning to the excited crowd and clearing his throat heavily. "Esteemed guests—"
He repeated it several times before the crowd reluctantly quieted. He then gestured toward the black-armored Yunes. "Esteemed guests, allow me to introduce the Alliance Parliament's newest ally. He is the representative of the Dark Star Hall, bound to Marshal Celia by the ties of fellow disciples. In the process of reestablishing the Alliance government, he has made indelible contributions. On behalf of the Alliance government, I express our sincerest and most heartfelt gratitude to Mr. Yunes!"
The guests were clearly distracted, and after a few seconds, only sparse applause followed.
Yunes didn't mind. He rose, gazing down imperiously at the diplomats from various systems. Moments later, a cold smile crept across his face.
"Ladies and gentlemen, good evening."
From the moment he uttered the first syllable, Celia's eyes changed abruptly—but no one around him noticed.
"On behalf of the Dark Star Hall, I thank the envoys from each system for attending this unforgettable gathering. Everything tonight is destined to be etched in history. When future generations recall the Dark Star Hall's resurgence, your names will forever shine alongside its glory and radiance in the annals of the universe."
Yunes inclined his head, a cold smile crawling across his face.
—At that moment, his voice seemed altered, hoarser and deeper than usual, the trailing tones even vibrating the air faintly, evoking a mesmerizing, soul-seizing allure.
The audience below appeared oblivious. The front-row VIPs fell silent first, staring up at Yunes in a daze. The quiet spread fan-like, rapidly encompassing the rear rows until the murmurs ceased entirely.
Speaker Marcus sensed something amiss and whipped his head toward Douglas.
But Douglas stood confidently, his gaze unsurprised.
"The Dark Star Hall was once a great and glorious organization, wielding nearly half the power in the galaxy. Yet in our expansion, we lost everything. Sealed in five-dimensional space, we encountered higher, more profound technologies, acquiring forces beyond your wildest imaginings. And today, we stand before the world once more with a great mission."
Yunes's voice carried a magical pull, plunging the entire hall into dead silence.
Speaker Marcus stared in shock at the dazed eyes of the VIPs below, then tremblingly turned to Celia—only to find his face as still as water, a indescribable glint in his narrowed eyes.
"Cel..." Marcus's whisper was cut off by a hand suddenly on his shoulder. Douglas's voice sounded from behind. "What's wrong, Speaker?"
Marcus turned in alarm. "Douglas, what's happening to these people?"
Douglas narrowed his wrinkled eyes coldly. "Hypnosis."
"Hyp... hypnosis?!"
"The Dark Star Hall are pioneers in harnessing human mental powers, and Lord Yunes is preeminent among them. His mental threshold rivals Marshal Celia at his peak. That's precisely why their enthusiastic aid is so invaluable to the Parliament—a powerful boost on our path to counterattacking the Empire."
"But this method..."
Marcus didn't finish before Yunes's voice suddenly rose.
"—Please return and tell your system governors: as long as they wish to cooperate, the Dark Star Hall will always extend a helping hand. Our great technologies and powers are resources they cannot do without—indispensable aids to achieving great deeds!"
A murmur rippled through the audience below, many diplomats' faces flushing with fanatical admiration.
The sight made Speaker Marcus's heart race in terror. He turned to see Yunes's lips curl in a condescending smile—that expression on his pale, corpse-like face was truly chilling. If the people below were in their right minds, they would find it horrifying.
"Now, to the main matter—for a show of the Dark Star Hall's sincerity in allying with the Alliance, we have specially helped the Parliament capture an Imperial spy and brought him here."
Yunes raised a hand, and two black-armored warriors carried in an electrified iron cage from outside the door. Inside hung Dean, covered in bloodstains!
Dean could scarcely be said to be conscious, his ribs shattered across a wide area, deforming his chest cavity. Dried blood had trickled from both arms to his shoulders and chest, leaving patches of shocking dark stains. Though the audience's minds were under control, this brutal sight still drew low gasps of shock.
"This spy is named Dean Lagre, the only son of Imperial Major General Lagre. Dispatched by the Empire, he infiltrated the Alliance government and stole vast amounts of critical intelligence. At the Parliament's request, the Dark Star Hall captured him, but he refused to confess even on pain of death. In desperation, the Parliament sentenced him to execution."
Yunes whipped around. "—Marshal Celia."
Celia sat quietly.
"The world knows you bear an irreconcilable blood feud with the Empire..." Yunes smiled coldly, enunciating each word. "Since you've returned to the Alliance, please execute this Imperial spy with your own hands."
In that moment, Celia understood why the military police had prepared a control helmet for the test subject.
If they only intended for the test subject to enter, sit like a wooden post, and stay that way, it would be a simple task. But now Yunes planned to make him kill Dean with his own hand—this level of complexity required a pre-programmed sequence to execute flawlessly.
A Dark Star warrior approached Yunes with a gun, bowing and raising it high. Yunes took it, turned, and aimed it at Celia, his eyes gleaming with profound, icy amusement.
Celia watched impassively. After several seconds of silence, he slowly rose and walked to Yunes.
"Let this man's blood honor the fallen heroes of the Alliance." Yunes's voice rang out coldly across the hall. "—Marshal Celia, starting with this first shot today, you will represent the Alliance in avenging ourselves against the Empire!"
Celia's lashes didn't even flutter. He woodenly took the gun and turned toward Dean, suspended in the cage.
The audience stirred faintly—some sensing impropriety—but Yunes swiftly suppressed it with stronger mental force. Ten seconds later, all eyes were fixed on the black gun barrel. Several ladies in the front row paled, yet couldn't tear their gazes away.
"..." In the cage, Dean barely lifted his head, his cracked lips moving in a mosquito-like whisper. "Gavin..."
Celia's face remained expressionless.
"Get on with it, Marshal," Yunes pressed, his tone sharpening. "Don't you want vengeance for our fallen soldiers? Don't you want to counterattack the Empire? I can guarantee on behalf of the Dark Star Hall right now—as long as the Alliance shows sincerity in cooperation, we can immediately—"
"Gavin..." Dean repeated, tears seeping from his bloodied eyes.
But Celia heard none of them.
His finger slowly tightened on the trigger as he tilted his head slightly, as if listening to something else. Abruptly, his gaze snapped toward the door—
The air held an invisible fuse, burning to its end in that instant—followed by a heavy bang!
"Yunes—!" Several Dark Star warriors burst through the door, led by Osrode, who bellowed furiously, "In your dreams! I refuse!"
It all happened in a flash—Osrode leaped onto the dais in one bound, drawing his blade and slashing down!
Celia and Yunes moved in tandem.
Celia tossed the gun, reached out—Lion Eagle materialized midair as a crimson-gold military blade, which he seized and swung in a flipping arc. Yunes snatched his sheathed sword from his waist, black lightning erupting as the blade sprang free, tracing a fan-shaped gleam!
—Clang!
Their counters merged into a single thunderous clash, blades from left and right striking Osrode's simultaneously!
The immense force sheared the blade clean through in a blaze of sparks, hurling Osrode himself backward!
"You—" Osrode's curse died unspoken as Celia and Yunes's blades whipped around in midair. The next second—"Ding!"—a deafening ring echoed as they locked deadly together!
"So it is you! Celia—!"
"Spare me," Celia sneered, vibrating his blade to fling Yunes back!
Even the obtuse Douglas knew something was wrong now. He whirled. "What's going on?!"
Abel pretended not to hear, Karyan focused intently on the scene as if oblivious the question was for him. Douglas turned furiously to Speaker Marcus, who then "suddenly realized" and echoed, "What's going on?"
"I..." Douglas barely swallowed his curse. "General Karyan! What the hell is this?!"
"Ask me?" Karyan finally looked up, baffled. "What do you mean? Didn't you want the Marshal?"
"But—"
Karyan pointed to the floor. "There's your Marshal." His face said, what more is there to say?
Douglas was apoplectic, snatching his communicator. "Military police! Get military police to the hall to control the situation! Now!"
But panicked shouts erupted from the device. "Bad news, Mr. Douglas! Satellites show our space fortress breached! The warp gate's occupied by an incoming fleet—issue orange level-two air raid alert immediately!"
"This... what's happening?" Douglas paled, nearly collapsing. "Quick, notify the Radiant Legion to prepare for battle, and get ground mech units to protect the grand hall..."
Shouts and footsteps clattered from the communicator. Moments later, the monitor's voice returned, shrill and distorted. "Disaster, Mr. Douglas! Radar shows ground mech units entering Radiant Legion HQ—no response from Legion command..."
Douglas slammed the communicator down, eyes bloodshot as he glared at Karyan. "What game are you playing?!"
Karyan pointed at his nose in surprise, the picture of innocence. "You... asking me? I've been sitting here since early morning. I don't know a thing..."
His demeanor was more infuriating than Celia's taunting. Anyone with less restraint might have lunged at him. Douglas trembled with rage, but seconds later went deathly calm, staring at Karyan. "—What has Celia made you do?"
His glare was so ferocious even Speaker Marcus shivered.
"...Nothing at all, Mr. Douglas." Karyan finally dropped his punchable smile, saying flatly, "Isn't it laughable? Since centuries ago when the Konsetlin family ruled, you've hounded the military with 'What has Celia made you do?' And to this day, you still don't grasp what Celia truly wants..."
·
"Truly a meticulous plan, Celia." On the other side of the venue, Yunes rose slowly from the floor, then whipped toward Osrode. "—Stand down!"
Osrode, about to charge, halted abruptly.
He and his intruders looked disheveled—clearly, after Barnett's death, they'd clashed fiercely with Yunes's faction and taken heavy losses. That much was predictable: rank among Dark Star warriors was rigidly hierarchical. Osrode was formidable, but trailing Yunes's faction by over a century, the power gap was vast.
Yunes's men instantly surrounded Osrode's group, the hall thick with tension. Yunes eyed Osrode coldly. "How did you escape?"
"Snakes have their paths, rats have theirs," Celia mocked before Osrode could rage. "If you can't hold him, that's your failing, Yunes. No progress after all these years, hmm?"
Yunes started to retort but huffed instead. "You think I'll fall for your provocations so easily anymore?"
"You think you even merit my provocation." Celia smiled faintly.
That familiar, hated face... Yunes skipped questions, growling through gritted teeth. "You killed Barnett! You murdered him and framed me to spark infighting in the Dark Star Hall, right?!"
Celia didn't respond, turning to Osrode. "Do you believe it?"
The provocation was blatant, unmasked.
If Osrode believed it, then Alliance men killed a Dark Star warrior—Yunes's plan to ally with the Alliance against the Empire would collapse. For Osrode, ever opposed, it was pure gain.
If he disbelieved, insisting Yunes killed Barnett, then Yunes would face the elders' wrath, likely losing much of his power. For his rival Osrode, the benefits were even greater.
Either way, the situation had cornered Yunes—unless one thing:
Osrode overlooked Barnett's death and joined Yunes's side.
But would he?
"You know..." Osrode narrowed his eyes at Celia. "I could avenge Barnett and team up with Yunes against you."
Celia didn't even lift an eyelid. "If you truly thought that, you wouldn't have come charging at Yunes just now like a man seeking death."
Vicious but true—Osrode choked, then chuckled. "But if I were you, I'd head straight back to the Dark Star Hall and inform the elders. Barnett was a high-rank warrior, after all. Yunes killed him without cause and tried to silence you both—that audacity would expose his treacherous heart to the elders... Once they act, it's far beyond your current wailing and thrashing. Can't even think of that?"
Osrode wavered. Yunes, catching his expression, sneered. "You think you can just walk away?"
"Alone, no—but if I hold Yunes for you—" Celia flicked his blade tip, lips curling mockingly. "I've gone this far—don't say your senior brother doesn't care for you."
Yunes whipped toward Celia, gaze darkly ominous. After a moment, he asked, "You think he truly wants to let you go, Osrode? Don't forget who first blocked your blade. If he wanted to help you, why not help you kill me?!"
The two factions faced off, the air taut to suffocation. Osrode's eyes slowly scanned them both, then hoarsely rasped, "I know. He just wants to sow discord between us."
The crimson-gold blade gleamed, reflecting Celia's smile. "Oh? Will I succeed, then?"
The vast hall fell utterly silent, a pin drop audible. Osrode clenched his fists, nails piercing flesh—but a twisted thrill surged through him.
"You will." He stepped back, then bolted rearward, roaring, "—Cover me against Yunes!"
Everyone moved at once!
Osrode's Dark Star warriors withdrew in unison, flashing to the door like lightning!
Yunes lunged, but a chill gleam slashed before him—"Clang!"—Celia's blade barred his path solidly!
—The clash was brutal, jarring Celia's grip numb. The locked blades trembled under unimaginable force. Yunes and Celia strained eye-to-eye, less than a handspan apart. Seconds later, the snake-pupiled man grinned slyly.
"You think I'm still the me who lost to you repeatedly four centuries ago?—Celia, you've miscalculated."
Before the words finished, Celia glimpsed something. He looked up, and the scene behind Yunes leaped into view, draining the blood from his face!