Is Unlocking the Stellaris Tech Tree in Star Rail Really Okay? [322]

"Saphiri, Grand Chancellor, what is that on your head?!"

A high-ranking official standing beside Saphiri suddenly shouted, drawing the attention of everyone in the Royal Council Chamber—including King Morav XIX himself. The king, startled by the exclamation, put down the state documents in his hands and looked up.

The Royal Council Chamber had strict protocols, and any official, regardless of rank, who disrupted proceedings with shouting could be executed. However, this time was clearly an exception, as even Morav XIX gazed at his Grand Chancellor with a look of astonishment.

Floating above Saphiri's head was a bizarre emblem, shimmering with radiant colors—more vivid than a holographic projection, yet carrying an absurd sense of reality.

It was a cartoonish image of an innocent-looking little girl, mouth open as if she were eating.

What in the world was going on?

No one had an answer.

Morav XIX frowned. "Grand Chancellor Saphiri, what exactly is that on your head?"

"Hmm? Is there something on my head?"

"A disgusting image! No noble Rilusian would ever tolerate the likeness of such an alien creature!"

Saphiri couldn't see what was floating above his own head. Completely bewildered, he panicked upon noticing the king’s displeasure and quickly knelt down.

"Your Majesty, I have no idea what this is! May I have permission to look in a mirror to see it for myself?"

Morav XIX nodded. He, too, did not believe his loyal Grand Chancellor had intentionally done anything disgraceful. There had to be some misunderstanding.

When a mirror was brought forward by the guards, Saphiri finally saw the bizarre figure hovering above him. His reaction was immediate—he gagged violently, as if he were having an allergic reaction to the mere sight of it.

No matter how anyone tried, they could not block or cover up the strange projection. Even Saphiri himself could not touch it.

Seeing his Grand Chancellor's expression shift between nausea and fury, Morav XIX was now certain—this strange image was not of Saphiri’s doing.

"Saphiri, how do you feel?" the king asked.

"Other than—ugh—other than suddenly feeling decades younger, filled with energy, and brimming with power… nothing else," Saphiri managed to respond between retches.

"That's… odd. What do you mean by 'brimming with power'?"

"I mean… my body feels incredibly light, my strength seems to have increased, and my mind is clearer than ever. Everything I do feels… inspired."

Saphiri, regaining some composure, hastily explained his condition.

The council session was brought to an abrupt halt due to this strange occurrence. After extensive examinations by the royal physicians, who found nothing physically wrong with Saphiri, Morav XIX dismissed the assembly, suggesting that perhaps the image would disappear on its own by the next day.

For Saphiri, however, this was the most humiliating day of his life. Never before had he been subjected to so many peculiar and judgmental stares. His dark-skinned, aging face even turned slightly red from embarrassment.

With no other choice, he left the council chamber, boarded his carriage, and hurried back to his residence.

Upon arriving home, Saphiri locked himself in his study, instructing his family and guards not to disturb him under any circumstances.

Desperate to rid himself of the cartoonish avatar floating above his head, he tried everything—removing his clothes, scrubbing his scalp, even performing various purification rituals. But no matter what he did, the image remained. Worse, it seemed to grow even clearer and brighter.

After exhausting all options, Saphiri let out a long sigh and slumped into his chair in defeat.

If it wouldn’t disappear, so be it.

Yet an inexplicable sense of dread crept up his spine. A chill spread through his body, as if something terrible was about to happen.

To distract himself from the unease, he turned to his work, sifting through stacks of state documents.

To his astonishment, he found that his memory had become flawless—he could recall details with absolute clarity. His mind was sharper, his thoughts flowed faster, and his efficiency soared.

Before long, Saphiri was completely engrossed in his work, his concentration surpassing even his younger years. He was so absorbed that he failed to notice the tiny, imperceptible particles of energy coalescing behind him.

The particles gathered, shifting from formless energy into the shape of a small humanoid figure.

The figure solidified within seconds. A girl, her mouth glistening with drool, slowly inched closer to Saphiri.

Had Saphiri turned around at that moment, he would have immediately recognized her—she was the same figure as the cartoonish avatar floating above his head.

As she drew within mere centimeters of him, Saphiri seemed to sense something. Frowning in irritation, he turned around abruptly and shouted, "Didn't I say—no one is to enter without my permi—"

His words caught in his throat.

His anger melted into pure terror in an instant. His eyes widened, blood vessels bursting in his sclera. Beads of cold sweat formed on his forehead. His face turned red, as if he were being strangled. His voice died in his throat.

In the span of a single breath—

Saphiri, seated in his chair, vanished without a trace.

The small humanoid figure also disappeared.

All that remained was a ghostly, ethereal outline of Saphiri’s body, mirroring his terrified expression and defensive posture, as if he had been trying to fend off some unseen predator.

Hours passed.

A servant, knocking on the door to call him for dinner, received no response.

His wives came to check on him. Silence.

His children called out to him. Nothing.

At last, they could wait no longer. Bursting into the study, they were met with an unspeakable sight—

A translucent silhouette sat rigidly in the chair, arms crossed defensively in front of it, frozen in sheer horror.

The eerie level of detail—the distinct wrinkles on the face, the veins on the hands, the sheer panic in his expression—sent chills down the spines of everyone present.

A collective scream filled the residence as they stumbled backward in terror.

...

News spread quickly. Soon, Morav XIX, accompanied by his royal guards, arrived at the Grand Chancellor’s residence.

"What… what is this?!"

Even Morav XIX, a king hardened by decades of rule, turned pale at the sight.

Summoning his courage, he stepped forward and reached out to touch the ghostly form.

The moment his fingers made contact—"P

Pop.

Like a soap bubble bursting, the silhouette dissipated into thin air, vanishing without a trace.

Saphiri, Grand Chancellor of the Rilu, was gone.

He had transformed into nothingness, leaving behind no explanation.

Whispers spread like wildfire. Officials who had attended the morning council session quickly recalled the strange emblem on Saphiri’s head.

But what had truly happened?

Where had Saphiri gone?

What was the meaning behind the bizarre image?

No one knew.

As night fell, Morav XIX sat alone in his palace, deep in thought.

His most trusted Grand Chancellor had developed a strange marking on his head… and then, inexplicably, ceased to exist.

What in the world is going on…?

He had a nagging feeling that something about this situation was terribly off—like an unseen hand was orchestrating events from behind the scenes.

Such power was beyond anything an ordinary person could possess. Morav XIX pondered for a long time before finally settling on a suspect—one he had heard about from other civilization leaders at a banquet in Belobog.

The Emanators.

The problem was, he had been very careful. By all accounts, he shouldn’t have offended any Emanator of an Aeon… unless the one responsible was from the Interastral Peace Corporation.

Under his orders, the Corporation’s colonization plans for Rilu-Ⅰ had been utterly thwarted. Not only that, but several hundred of their employees had died on his watch. If there was anyone who had a grudge against him, it had to be them.

Rumor had it that the Corporation had powerful Emanators among its ranks. One of them, supposedly, had been the direct superior of the workers he had killed.

Could this be an act of revenge?

“No, that doesn’t add up.”

If that Emanator had come seeking vengeance, why stop at just his Grand Chancellor? Wouldn’t it be more logical to storm the Royal Council Chamber and leave a mountain of corpses in their wake?

Morav XIX had never encountered an Emanator personally, but from what other rulers had said, eliminating an entire civilization was trivial for them. Even civilizations far stronger than Rilusia had been unable to withstand an Emanator’s wrath.

If one had truly set their sights on him, there was no reason they wouldn’t have come for him directly.

Rubbing his aching forehead, Morav XIX barked toward the door, “Has the external communications system been repaired yet? I need to contact Governor Chen of the Empire—right now! Useless fools! How can it take this long?!”

Since last week, Rilu-Ⅰ had been completely cut off from outside communication. Even the “advanced” devices he had brought back from the Empire were failing to establish a connection.

Losing communication in the interstellar age was no different from being blind and deaf. Morav XIX had every reason to be furious—he needed to check on the status of the warships the Empire had promised him!

He had already paid for them. How was he supposed to track the delivery if he couldn’t reach anyone? The uncertainty was driving him insane.

...

Twenty Minutes Later

A high-ranking technical officer burst into the room, clutching two communication terminals in his arms. He was drenched in sweat and panting heavily, clearly having sprinted all the way there.

“Y-Your Majesty! We’ve established contact! We reached the Empire!” The officer was practically shouting in excitement. “Just now, the terminal even received an official transmission from the Galactic Community!”

“Who in the Empire did you reach?”

“The administrative chief of the Empire’s Qlipoth Fort. She identified herself as Pelageya Sergeyevna. She also sent the transmission. She instructed that you read it first before responding.”

The officer, legs shaking, handed the terminal to a nearby soldier, who quickly brought it forward.

Seconds later, Morav XIX waved dismissively. “Leave.”

“Yes… Yes, Your Majesty!” The officer practically ran out, relieved to still be alive.

Once the room was empty, Morav XIX accessed the message, clumsily printing it out on another device.

A large official envelope bore the seal of the Galactic Community.

Morav XIX frowned. The Galactic Community? Why them? Shouldn’t this be from the Interstellar Rift Empire or the Jarilo sector?

His unease growing, he authenticated his identity using a separate device, unlocking the psionic seal on the envelope.

The moment he unfolded the document, his eyes widened.

“Damn it!”

The very first line of the document read:

“Designation of Galactic Crisis—Sanctions Against the Rilusia Civilization (Species Purist Ideology).”

"Based on the Galactic Community’s resolution and voting process, the Permanent Member States have verified the legitimacy of this legislation. The following measures are to be implemented immediately:"

• Effective immediately, the Rilusia civilization is designated as a Galactic Crisis. This civilization espouses an ideology that promotes hatred and the systematic extermination of all sentient lifeforms outside its own species. Its existence poses a severe threat to galactic security. The Empire and member states of the Galactic Community have confirmed that Rilusia is a genocidal regime that disregards the fundamental rights of all sentient beings, violating the ethical bottom line of the galactic populace.

• All Galactic Community members and Permanent Member States shall immediately form a Galactic Defense Coalition and take military action to eliminate the genocidal regime of Rilusia and neutralize the threat it poses.

• Under Article 24 of the Galactic Community Charter, the Galactic Empire, with a unanimous vote (21 votes in favor, 0 abstentions, 0 opposed), has been designated as the primary executor of this military operation.

• The Galactic Empire has authorized the use of special weapons to exterminate all life on Rilusia. This process will be broadcast live to the Galactic Community.

• Should the Rilusia civilization object to this decision, it may submit a formal appeal to the Galactic Community within five hours of unsealing this resolution.

This legislation has been approved by the Galactic Community and recognized by the Galactic Council. All member states are expected to facilitate the execution of this mandate and strictly adhere to its enforcement.

—The Galactic Community

Morav XIX realized, in that moment, that he had made a grave miscalculation.

His Grand Chancellor hadn’t been killed by the Interastral Peace Corporation. No—this was the work of the Galactic Empire.

The treacherous Empire had bled them dry of resources, only to turn around and label them a Galactic Crisis. Worse, they had seen through his deception completely.

For years, Morav XIX had believed his true intentions were well hidden. But now, he seethed with fury, wishing he could personally rip that young Imperial Governor apart.

How? How did he see through my disguise? How did he know we despise all alien species?

Rage burned within him, but survival took precedence.

Perhaps… this was all a ploy. Maybe the Empire was bluffing, trying to extort even more resources from him.

After all, the resolution did allow him to submit an appeal.

"#@!…"*

Swearing profusely, Morav XIX grabbed a pen and furiously drafted a rebuttal. Within twenty minutes, he had written a document spanning tens of thousands of words, vehemently denying the allegations. He even ordered his ministers to gather photos of Rilusian diplomats engaging in "friendly" exchanges with off-worlders as supposed evidence.

His development plans had been shattered, and the Imperial Governor’s greed was the one thing he hadn’t accounted for. Everything was falling apart.

But as long as he could stall for time, there was still hope. Right now, their top priority was avoiding further scrutiny from both the Galactic Community and the Empire.

Summoning the recently dismissed technical officer, he watched impatiently as the man formatted the rebuttal according to official submission standards.

But just as they were about to transmit the document, the officer froze. His entire body tensed as he slowly turned to look at Morav XIX.

“Why are you standing there? Send it!”

“Y-Y-Your Majesty… The system just failed again. The transmission won’t go through.”

“Then use the terminal to contact the Governor’s Office in Belobog! Or the Qlipoth Fort!”

“The terminal… i-it’s not connecting either…”

Morav XIX nearly slapped the officer to death on the spot.

Just then, a soldier burst into the room, shouting in alarm.

“Your Majesty! Catvomor City has vanished! The entire surrounding area—thousands of kilometers wide—has turned into a massive crater emitting anomalous energy waves!”

Another officer rushed in right after. “Your Majesty! Billions of civilians across the planet have suddenly developed strange symbols above their heads!”

“Pffft—”

A mouthful of blood spurted from Morav XIX’s lips.

And then, everything went black.

---

T/N: hmm was it Galactic Alliance or Community? Community seems nicer

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!