A fleet that blots out the sky…
Is it a matter of sheer numbers? Or is it the sheer tonnage that determines its dominance?
Or perhaps, in the confined space of the Luofu, even three warships at full combat capacity are enough to reach the operational limit?
Whoosh—
As if they had already locked onto their targets, countless carrier-based aircraft detached from their motherships, streaking toward the horizon. To the civilians below, these warplanes would vanish in the blink of an eye. Yet, despite their astonishing speed, they produced no sound—no roar of engines, no sonic booms from breaking the air. It was as if something was actively muffling their presence.
—
At a secluded corner of the Divination Commission, a round table was surrounded by players engaged in a lively game. The rhythmic clacking of tiles and shuffling of pieces filled the air.
A woman impatiently urged, “Qingque, it’s your turn.”
“Oh, my turn?”
Qingque absentmindedly placed a tile, her gaze still fixed on the sky, where dense formations of warplanes filled the air.
“Ugh, what’s so interesting about that?” The woman waved dismissively. “I can already guess—it’s just our reinforcements. By the time we finish this game, it’ll be another victory announcement from the Divine Stratagem Division.” She smirked. “The General himself is on the field. Nothing is truly a challenge. Anyone who dares to provoke the Xianzhou will be hunted to the ends of the universe.”
“Haha…”
Qingque let out a dry laugh but didn’t respond. She had no doubt the Xianzhou would endure this crisis—but how easily they would endure, and at what cost, was another matter entirely.
These warships and aircraft clearly weren’t from the Xianzhou’s forces. Their formation alone was daunting, and their numbers overwhelming. Perhaps… things weren’t as simple as everyone thought.
Suddenly, Qingque stood up. “Hey, Gourd! Take my place. I’m not really feeling it today—I need a break.”
—
At the gates of the outer perimeter, Li Sushang, her face smudged with soot, coughed as she hurriedly called out behind her.
“Master Diviner, the fire’s getting huge! We’ve got more than enough heat for roasting meat—but, uh, we didn’t actually bring any food, did we? …Hey? Master Diviner?”
“…Just wait a moment.”
Fu Xuan sat on the stone steps, cradling a half-filled jug of wine. Her tranquil gaze remained fixed on the road ahead, where rows of Cloud Knights stood unwavering in their defense. She muttered to herself with disdain,
“Idiots. That little bit of wine will evaporate in no time. Do they think they’ll be drinking air when they get back? Hmph. Good thing I prepared a formation to prevent water vapor from escaping. As always, I think ahead.”
She stood up and stepped outside the hall. Li Sushang scratched her head and followed. “So, Master Diviner, what’s the plan? We’re just gonna stand guard here? The wind by the shore is crazy strong—I’ve only been out here half an hour, and my face already feels soaked, hehe…”
“Standing guard is enough.”
Fu Xuan nodded coolly. Only a handful of officers knew the true reason they were stationed here. Most of the Cloud Knights were still unaware that Phantylia was lurking within, and that someone had already ventured inside.
The Alchemy Commission’s secret techniques were, in the grand scheme of things, a minor concern. Informing the Cloud Knights about it in advance would boost morale and give them clarity on what needed to be done and what to watch out for.
But Phantylia… That was another matter entirely.
The name Lord Ravager inspired fear across the cosmos.
“Take these talismans and heat up the wine—no, I’ll do it myself. Otherwise, I won’t feel at ease. You, go gather as much dry firewood as possible.”
“Got it~!”
Li Sushang responded energetically and set off but suddenly stopped mid-step.
“Why aren’t you moving?” Fu Xuan asked.
“Uh… Master Diviner, where did my master go? I just realized—I haven’t seen him in a while since we got here. I forgot to report my battle achievements to him… He wouldn’t think I was being disrespectful, would he?”
In the Xianzhou, there was an old tradition—after their first real battle, disciples must report their performance to their master. First, to show their potential in combat. Second, to prove they had not brought shame upon their school. And third, to confirm that they were, in fact, still alive.
It was an ancient custom, particularly well-preserved in martial families aboard the Xianzhou Yaqun, where military traditions ran deep.
Fu Xuan paused for a moment. She understood these customs well. However, the current situation was… special. Jing Yuan, Chen Lin, and the Astral Express crew had already entered Scalegorge Waterscape in pursuit of Phantylia, but announcing it now would only create unnecessary complications.
After a brief silence, Fu Xuan forced what she believed to be a gentle smile—though to outsiders, it resembled more of a chilling smirk.
“Your master left this wine with me. He and the General are occupied with research. They said they’d like some warm wine later, so they entrusted me with the task.” She crossed her arms. “Besides, your master isn’t a Xianzhou native. He probably doesn’t even know about these traditions. You don’t need to worry about him holding it against you.”
“O-oh, I see! But… my mother always said traditions must be upheld. Even if master doesn’t know, I should still follow the rules.”
“Do as you please.”
Fu Xuan let out a dismissive huff and followed Li Sushang to where she had built a fire.
With a flick of her wrist, the wine jug—now inscribed with talismans—floated gently into the air, settling over the flames. If one looked closely, they could see intricate formations appearing on its surface, ensuring the jug would not crack under high heat, regulating the temperature inside, and even recycling evaporated alcohol back into the liquid.
No matter how long it was heated, not a single drop of this fine liquor would be lost.
Li Sushang returned with an armful of dry firewood. Estimating it to be sufficient, she asked, “Master Diviner, should I head back to the docks for my post?”
“Mm.”
Receiving approval, she turned and left, but muttered to herself as she walked away.
“The Master Diviner is so serious all the time… She’s as cold as a popsicle. master’s way easier to get along with.”
But before she could take more than a few steps, something changed.
The bright sunlight around her suddenly dimmed, as if something massive had blocked it out. Dappled light flickered beneath her feet.
“Eh—?!”
Li Sushang looked up—only to be met with the most breathtaking sight of her life.
Countless sleek fighter jets, like a swarm of locusts, streaked across the sky. Trails of black smoke followed them as they released payload after payload, their targets locked onto—
The open seabed?!
Behind the endless stream of warplanes, three colossal warships slowly emerged, their course set straight ahead!
Fu Xuan spared them only a brief glance, her gaze pausing on the insignia adorning both the warships and the aircraft. Then, without further reaction, she lowered her head and returned to her task.
“Hmph. You’re the General, not me. Whatever debts you owe… that’s your problem, not mine.”
A few seconds later, her eyes flickered toward the sea, now parted by a surge of draconic force. Beneath the waves lay a vast, abandoned ruin—its once-thriving cityscape reduced to crumbling husks.
Her usually impassive gaze seemed to carry a rare tinge of melancholy.
“If they’ve mobilized forces like this… Then even the once-glorious General of the Five Swords has no confidence in victory, huh?”
From the depths of Scalegorge Waterscape, the roar of explosions rang out. Even the ground trembled beneath their fury.
—
The once-gentle light was now completely consumed by a cascade of multicolored laser fire and raging flames. Thick smoke billowed over the vast roots of the Ambrosial Arbor.
Inside the monochrome void, firelight blazed as chaos unfolded. Many warplanes had barely entered the battlefield before they were met with a relentless onslaught of vines, their movements hampered by the sudden, violent attacks. Some, through masterful piloting, narrowly evaded the ambush. Others, after launching their payloads, reported critical damage to their motherships and, realizing they could not return, adjusted their flight paths, dodging obstacles before decisively crashing straight into Phantylia…
Jing Yuan gasped for breath, using his blade to brace himself as he struggled to rise from the ground.
He had never imagined he would witness a battle of such devastation aboard the Xianzhou.
With the blessings of The Hunt, his strength was unparalleled. Phantylia, at her core, was merely a Lord Ravager—a master of deception and manipulation. On the battlefield, she should have been no match for him.
Wounds were inevitable, but… this injury was far more severe than it should have been.
“Cough… cough—”
Jing Yuan coughed violently, thick pools of blood spilling into his palm and dripping onto the ground.
The corpse before him—Phantylia’s discarded shell—had been caught in the crossfire of countless missiles. With a single swing of his blade, he had severed most of its head. Now, what remained was nothing more than shattered flesh and debris, consumed by the ensuing explosion.
If she had intended to use this body to further wreak havoc upon the Xianzhou, she was undoubtedly fuming in frustration now.
Jing Yuan steadied himself, eyes sharp.
“Phantylia… The Hunt severed the Ambrosial Arbor once—it can sever it twice. If this is all you’ve got, then get lost!”
A playful voice drifted through the battlefield, carried by the flickering embers of an eerie flame.
“My, my~ Such words are so very in line with what I’d expect from a Xianzhou general. You lot really do think so highly of yourselves, don’t you? Hehe~”
The air trembled as Phantylia’s lazy voice echoed across the field.
“Congratulations~ You’ve all finally taken your first step toward defeating me! The question is… how will you handle what comes next?”
Rumble—!
Jing Yuan felt a chill crawl up his spine.
His instincts screamed that something was terribly wrong.
And they were right.
A new figure—slightly smaller than the last—rose from the depths of the battlefield.
Stretching her limbs, Phantylia grinned, amusement laced with mockery.
“You destroyed the first body I casually molded—one that was, quite frankly, my weakest in every aspect.” She smirked. “Did you really think saving the Xianzhou would be this easy?”
Ignoring the flickering storm in Jing Yuan’s eyes, she bent down, plucking a jagged metal fragment from the wreckage. Twirling it between her fingers, she turned her gaze toward Chen Lin—her smirk growing ever more arrogant.
“Tell me, dear benefactor… were these your soldiers?” She chuckled. “So many lives lost, so much equipment gone… This must be so painful for you, right? Hehe~”
Chen Lin stood motionless, silently watching Phantylia as if she were genuinely declaring victory.
After a brief moment, he tilted his head slightly, an odd expression crossing his face—something akin to mild surprise.
Then, he nodded.
“You’re right,” he said, voice calm. “It doesn’t feel good. Every life is born with dignity. But from the moment they put on their uniforms and chose to stand here, they accepted that their death would be their final honor.”
He shrugged.
“This is war. And in war… people die.”
He let out a small sigh.
“That being said—” He smirked. “No one has actually died yet.”
Phantylia blinked.
Then, she laughed.
“Oho~? Is my dear benefactor getting nervous? Don’t worry, there will be plenty of time for that later.”
Chen Lin exhaled sharply, resisting the urge to curse her out for being an ignorant bumpkin who had never seen an intelligent combat system before.
Instead, he asked, “I’m curious—how long has it even been since you lost your first body? And yet, you’ve already made another? How many more can you even create?”
Phantylia pressed a finger to her lips, eyes glittering with amusement.
“How many, indeed~?”
She giggled.
“Perhaps this one is my last? Perhaps there’s one more? Who knows~? Hehe. But, dear benefactor—”
Her gaze darkened.
“You won’t be lucky enough to see my strongest body.”
Through careful preparations, Phantylia had already decoded the means to harness the Ambrosial Arbor, repurposing its matter to craft her ideal form.
To her, the barriers of Scalegorge Waterscape were as weak as paper. As a psionic entity, she could move in and out freely. With unlimited time and materials, she had practiced—over and over again.
Truthfully, at the start, she had never even considered breaking free from Chen Lin’s control.
Aside from the fact that he held her lifeblood in his hands, there was also… someone else.
Someone who had been watching her.
Because of that, Phantylia had genuinely believed that her deal with Chen Lin was a good one.
It provided her with a stable means of obtaining a functional, well-crafted body. She didn’t lose anything in the process, nor did she risk much.
But then…
She arrived here.
And the rich, intoxicating power of the Ambrosial Arbor’s roots filled her senses.
Creating a body should have been difficult—time-consuming—but within mere minutes, she had already molded a functional prototype. The only adjustments required were minor refinements.
Then, the idea came to her.
A way to sever Chen Lin’s control over her entirely.
At first, she had discarded the thought multiple times. If she failed, she knew exactly what kind of terrible, nightmarish fate awaited her.
Chen Lin was ruthless. He had no hesitation when it came to eliminating enemies.
And she was his enemy.
Yet…
She couldn’t shake the thought.
Her heart raced as she tentatively tested the method Kafka had whispered to her.
Then, it worked.
And to her absolute delight…
The watchful presence in the background did not intervene.
No interference. No punishment.
Just silent observation.
Fantastic.
The last threat standing in her way was gone.
Her confidence soared—so much so that it nearly swelled beyond control.
At first, she hesitated to interpret this being’s intentions.
But wasn’t this proof that they supported her actions?
Perhaps…
They, too, wanted to see Chen Lin’s reaction.
And the moment that thought took root—
A whisper brushed against her ear.
—”Ahh~ So thrilling, so wonderful~!”
With them at her back…
How could she possibly lose?
Yet, as she stood there, basking in triumph—
A quiet voice scoffed.
“A mere defeated pawn.”
Chen Lin’s lips curled in amusement.
“Phantylia—” His voice was laced with mockery. “I’ve beaten you once. I can do it again. And again. And again.”
She froze.
Then, she grinned, unfazed.
“Oh~? That was just an accident, my dear benefactor. I simply underestimated your little ‘spiritual power.’”
Chen Lin smirked.
“Yeah? Well—” He raised his middle finger, eyes burning with defiance.
“You still lost. And to me? That makes you a loser.”
For some reason…
The word loser struck a nerve.
Her smile faltered—just for a moment.
Then, she sneered.
“Oh, I admit it! And that loss? It will haunt me for life.”
She chuckled darkly.
“Which is why… I want you to prove something to me, dear benefactor.”
She grinned, eyes flashing.
“Show me that you’re truly stronger than me.”
—
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!
Reader discussion
0 Comments
Be the first reader to share a thought about this chapter.