Is Unlocking the Stellaris Tech Tree in Star Rail Really Okay? [204]

The chaos was swiftly quelled, and the Disciple Sanctus operatives disguised as Alchemy Commission staff were successfully subdued.

However, the situation was far more complex than it initially seemed. When the bodies of the Cloud Knights who had been sent to care for the “survivors” were recovered, every witness felt a chilling dread clawing at their hearts, as if the air itself had become oppressive.

Outside the warehouse, nearly all the commanding officers involved in the operation had gathered, their eyes first scanning the stretchers bearing the fallen knights before turning, blazing with fury, toward the warehouse. Even with the pitiful cries and desperate pleas coming from within, the anger simmering in their hearts remained unyielding.

One officer’s hand tightened around the hilt of his sword, veins bulging on his hand. “Master Diviner, these Disciple Sanctus wretches dare to employ such despicable methods to sow chaos among the Cloud Knights. Their treachery knows no bounds… perhaps our lenient prisoner policy warrants reconsideration?”

Many of the officers present were battle-hardened veterans of past wars against the Abundance. At the campaign’s outset, none had openly opposed the directive to prioritize capturing Disciple Sanctus operatives alive. After all, no matter their crimes, these were still Xianzhou people. Higher authorities might have use for the prisoners, and summary execution could carry political consequences.

But now, with evidence of their forbidden techniques, which could corrupt the minds of even seasoned warriors and drive them into the cursed state of mara-struck, the officers’ anger boiled over. This wasn’t warfare—it was equivalent to lobbing phosphorus bombs and poison gas into the heart of an army.

To not retaliate in kind was already an act of restraint.

The officers murmured in agreement, many voicing their support for the senior commander’s suggestion.

Once they’d spoken their piece, they fell silent, all turning their gaze toward Fu Xuan. As their leader, it was her decision that would dictate their course of action.

This fiery mood wasn’t simply fear of death. The Cloud Knights were warriors who willingly faced death on every campaign, their hearts burning with justice and loyalty to the Xianzhou. Casualties alone weren’t enough to shake them.

The terror lay in mara corruption.

To die in battle, no matter how brutal the injuries—be it slashes from swords, or being blasted to pieces—was considered an honorable death. The remains, no matter how damaged, were still part of the person who had sacrificed themselves for the Xianzhou. Their ashes could be laid to rest in dignity.

But to succumb to mara corruption was something else entirely. In its early stages, traces of humanity might linger, but once the corruption took hold, the body became grotesquely disfigured, consumed by the curse of immortality. Extra limbs, warped flesh, and ghastly organs turned them into unrecognizable monsters.

This was not only a fate considered worse than death but an affront to the dignity of a Cloud Knight who gave their life for their people. It struck at the very heart of their moral and spiritual resolve.

The Disciple Sanctus’s use of forbidden arts was a direct challenge to the Xianzhou’s principles of unity, sacrifice, and survival. It was as if they mocked the legacy of those who had fought and died to protect the Xianzhou from the Abundance’s tyranny.

To the Cloud Knights, these enemies were nothing more than traitors, collaborators who had betrayed their ancestors’ sacrifices.

From the vantage point of the Alchemy Commission’s central hall, anyone looking down at the warehouse would see a formidable gathering of officers. Standing in neat formation, their swords glinting like frost in the cold air, they exuded an aura of unrelenting determination. The oppressive atmosphere seemed to freeze the very air, a chilling testament to their readiness to strike.

This was the might of the Xianzhou’s elite land forces, unwavering even after centuries of war. On the battlefield, the Cloud Knights feared no enemy, no matter how overwhelming the odds.

Fu Xuan’s heart burned with as much anger as the knights she commanded.

As a strategist who had spent most of her career behind the lines, she rarely led from the front. Instead, her role had been to provide divination-based guidance, predicting outcomes and crafting solutions to emergencies. Her success in dozens of campaigns had cemented her reputation as an unmatched seer, capable of turning the tide with her foresight.

Her name, Fu Xuan, was spoken with reverence across the Xianzhou. The young Master Diviner, with her all-seeing eye, had become a symbol of the Xianzhou’s ingenuity and resolve.

But inexperience in direct command was her Achilles’ heel. On the front lines, where decisions had to be made on the spot, the usual clarity brought by her divinations was harder to summon.

The scene before her made her stomach churn. She saw the grim future that a “no-prisoner” policy would bring: the Disciple Sanctus, knowing capture meant certain death, would fight with suicidal desperation, aiming to take as many Cloud Knights down with them. The Cloud Knights might still win, but their casualties would skyrocket.

And there was another risk—Xianzhou’s reputation.

If word spread that they refused to take prisoners, others might see the Xianzhou as ruthless warmongers. Allies would hesitate to trust them, and neutral parties might align against them out of fear.

But if the prisoner policy remained unchanged, the Cloud Knights’ morale would plummet. The lingering mistrust between comrades, the knowledge that a single lapse could lead to mara corruption, would sow division.

Damned if we do, damned if we don’t.

Fu Xuan rubbed her temples, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on her. A balance must be struck… but how?

She silently thanked her instincts for summoning only the officers to this discussion and not the entire army. The sight of rank-and-file soldiers debating such matters could have thrown the entire force into disarray.

Taking a deep breath, she raised her head and prepared to issue her judgment. “This matter…”

“Handled! Perfectly handled!”

Fu Xuan and the officers turned in surprise to see Chen Lin approaching, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

Chen Lin’s expression was calm, but his sharp gaze suggested he had already seen through the situation. Stepping forward, he addressed the officers with an air of assurance.

“There’s no need to abandon our principles or compromise the Cloud Knights’ morale. I have a way to turn this to our advantage while maintaining the integrity of our forces.”

His words, though unexpected, carried enough weight to command attention.

Fu Xuan narrowed her eyes slightly, curious yet cautious. What is he planning?

Fu Xuan’s unfinished words were cut off by a thunderous voice that drew all eyes toward its source. She turned, startled, immediately recognizing the voice that had interrupted her.

The air grew still, and the officers who had been brimming with tension now exchanged looks of disbelief, their hushed murmurs blending into a quiet commotion.

In truth, most of the officers were venting their frustration. The Disciple Sanctus’s treachery and the grievous losses to their troops had ignited a desire for retribution. Yet none of them truly expected to alter the overarching strategy of capturing prisoners.

At the warehouse entrance, Chen Lin emerged, dragging two barely conscious Disciple Sanctus members. Their eyes rolled back, drool dripping from their mouths as they murmured incoherently, “Just end it already…”

Chen Lin’s expression was calm, but his voice carried the weight of command as he addressed the crowd.

“What the General said is not without merit. The Cloud Knights have fought and bled to protect the peace of our people. Even in death, or should they succumb to shadow corruption, their loyalty and sacrifice remain unblemished. Their bond with their comrades is unshakable. But tell me—did none of you notice anything unusual about the injuries on the fallen soldiers found inside the warehouse?”

The voice, amplified by psionic energy, reverberated like a clap of thunder. Even Chen Lin was momentarily surprised by its potency, resisting the urge to cover his ears.

He extended his hand toward the fallen knights laid on stretchers nearby, the scene drawing the attention of the distant Cloud Knights still wary from earlier.

“The fatal wounds on their bodies were inflicted by their own weapons!”

His voice dropped slightly, adopting a tone of grim clarity.

“What does that tell you? What compelled them to act against themselves? Surely, you understand as well as I do.”

A ripple of shock coursed through the ranks of the Cloud Knights. Many lowered their heads, shame coloring their expressions as they recalled their earlier distrust of comrades. For some, the sting of guilt was sharper, as those they had doubted had once been mentors or stalwart allies.

Resolving to make amends, the knights exchanged heartfelt apologies, banishing the seeds of suspicion sown by the enemy.

Chen Lin’s voice rang out again, resolute and commanding:

“The Disciple Sanctus thrives in the shadows, poisoning our people and committing heinous acts to undermine our unity. Their intent is clear: to sow distrust and break the bonds of camaraderie that make the Cloud Knights strong. Do not forget who the real enemy is!”

“The corruption that befell our brothers is undoubtedly their doing. They laced their blades with a powder that seeps into the bloodstream, accelerating the onset of shadow corruption through even the smallest wound. The best way to fight this is to protect your comrades and ensure no one is injured unnecessarily. Distrust among allies is their most dangerous weapon.”

Chen Lin paused, letting the weight of his words settle before continuing.

“Still, we must uphold our principles. As Cloud Knights, we do not mistreat or execute prisoners without due process. However…” He let the word hang in the air, drawing the officers’ rapt attention.

“…if, after judgment, a prisoner is found guilty of unforgivable crimes, execution is justice. On the other hand, if redemption is possible, offering a second chance only exemplifies the magnanimity of our cause.”

Judgment.

The word struck a chord with Fu Xuan. She immediately picked up on the subtle weight it carried. She knew her brother well—Chen Lin always had a way of burying his true intentions in innocuous remarks, leaving himself room to maneuver with deliberate vagueness.

It was a rhetorical “landmine,” a technique he used to hide a larger plan under a guise of goodwill.

Though his demeanor suggested calm righteousness, Fu Xuan understood that, when provoked, Chen Lin was capable of ruthless efficiency—utterly unyielding once he made his move.

And yet, Fu Xuan said nothing. Her silence signaled her approval of his words, affirming his authority.

To the Cloud Knights unfamiliar with Chen Lin, the idea of judgment felt like a frustrating compromise. These were criminals whose hands were stained with the blood of their brothers. That they might be spared even the faintest chance of redemption felt deeply unjust.

Chen Lin ignored their darkening expressions and continued in an indifferent tone.

“The Master Diviner oversees strategy and command. Let me handle the tedious matter of judgment.” He looked down at the two convicts at his feet, their trembling bodies like discarded rags. “My ruling: death by immediate execution.”

His casual declaration shocked everyone present.

By the laws of the Xianzhou, a formal trial required testimony, evidence, corroboration, and a deliberation period before any sentence could be carried out.

Before anyone could object, Chen Lin acted. Lifting the two Disciple operatives as if they weighed nothing, he strode toward the Alchemy Commission’s main hall. Scaling the highest point, he stood atop the rooftop, where all could see.

With a final glance at the pitiful figures he held aloft, he spoke two words.

“Carry it out.”

Purple flames ignited on the bodies, their screams echoing through the battlefield. Many Cloud Knights recoiled as the ethereal fire consumed the prisoners, reducing them to ash in moments. The flames seemed to pierce into the depths of their souls, evoking an instinctive fear.

But as the fire spread and destroyed the corrupted flesh, many felt an inexplicable sense of satisfaction. The tension that had been brewing dissipated like smoke in the wind.

The smarter officers quickly pieced together Chen Lin’s unspoken message: those guilty of unforgivable crimes could still be executed. The system of judgment he proposed was less about bureaucracy and more about flexibility—it was justice on his terms.

And truly, how many among the Disciple Sanctus could claim innocence?

The Cloud Knights, who had been bound by rigid discipline, felt a surge of relief. No longer burdened by conflicting orders, they looked to Chen Lin with newfound respect.

On the rooftop, as the last wisps of violet fire faded, Chen Lin spoke again. His voice carried across the battlefield, clear and resolute.

“The Cloud Knights are a righteous force. Our judgments must be just and our actions honorable. Bravery without wisdom is recklessness, and strength without unity is folly. No matter the hardship, we must stand by our brothers, even in the gravest peril. Only then can we prevail.”

“Can we do this?”

The response was deafening: “Yes, we can!”

“For the great endeavor, to purge the Abundance’s heresy, I ask you to stand united. Let us face this together!”

“Together!”

As the crowd roared in unison, the last remnants of the executed prisoners’ bodies turned to ash, leaving behind faint traces of glowing blue powder that drifted through the air. In the light of the reviving Arbor, the powder shimmered like stars, reflecting the countless united souls standing resolute below.

—

This is a fan translation of 在星穹铁道点群星科技树真的没问题吗? by 杏雨诗韵 All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!