Is Unlocking the Stellaris Tech Tree in Star Rail Really Okay? [182]

The pure psionic energy swirled around the massive sphere within the consciousness, distorting the surrounding space with its sheer intensity.

Phantylia had never encountered a consciousness space as peculiar as this one. Typically, when she infiltrated someone's mind to manipulate them, their feeble mental defenses would shatter with the slightest touch, leaving her in total control.

She had rarely faced any resistance.

Most of the time, she preferred to create a new vessel modeled after her original form rather than using someone else’s "second-hand" body, which she found distasteful. But this consciousness… it was far too vast, almost unsettlingly so.

A creeping sense of unease gnawed at her.

"Can this really be the depth of a mortal's consciousness?" Phantylia muttered as she turned, questioning herself.

By conventional understanding, the consciousness of someone untrained in psionics would be limited to a small, easily navigable space. Their core consciousness would be readily exposed, waiting for her to crush it.

But here…

Not only was the space vast beyond measure, but Phantylia estimated that even if she took flight, it would take considerable time to find its boundaries.

The more she lingered, the more unnerved she became. Especially with that enormous sphere before her—what kind of consciousness has a giant orb floating in it?

Resolving to locate Chen Lin’s core consciousness, she abandoned her initial plan. Originally, she intended to completely destroy his core, turning the Empire and the Xianzhou Alliance against one another for her own gain.

However, after encountering the pure psionic energy in Chen Lin’s consciousness—energy malleable enough to reshape at her will—her ambitions shifted. Instead of destroying Chen Lin, she now aimed to rewrite his core consciousness, creating a puppet she could control at any time.

Once his body could no longer bear the strain of her mental manipulation, she could infuse it with the power of Destruction, turning the proud Imperial Governor into a mindless husk.

Imagine the chaos that would bring!

As a Herald of Destruction, Phantylia prided herself on swift action. Channeling the abundant psionic energy, she soared freely through the boundless expanse of consciousness.

But the further she flew, the more something seemed off.

Why did she keep ending up near that giant sphere?

Beyond that, there was no sign of Chen Lin’s core consciousness. In fact, apart from the pervasive psionic energy, there was nothing—no sights, no sensations, no trace of anything.

Phantylia frowned, her sharp gaze locking onto the enormous orb. “Could it be inside this thing?”

She descended lightly, scrutinizing the sphere. To those outside the realm of psionics, consciousness spaces like this would seem intangible, mysterious, even eerie. Most sentient beings could only perform simple feats with their mental power, and the lack of mastery often led to the dismissal of psionics as a valid field.

It wasn’t until the Psionic Empire's sudden rise that scholars across the galaxy acknowledged mental energy as a force capable of affecting the material world.

But whose consciousness space had something like this in it?

Phantylia tilted her head, her eyes narrowing. “Why does this look like a Star Core?”

Though the sphere’s appearance was smoother and its hue a shimmering white tinged with violet, it unmistakably resembled a Star Core, exuding an aura of pure psionic energy.

The thought alone made her shake her head violently.

Am I insane? Thinking someone’s consciousness could house a Star Core? That’s impossible.

It was common knowledge that Star Cores were creations of Nanook, the Aeon of Destruction, forged to annihilate civilizations. But to Phantylia, this common perception seemed simplistic.

As a Herald of Destruction, even she couldn’t fully comprehend Nanook’s methods or motivations. However, one thing was clear: relying on Star Cores to destroy civilizations was far too inefficient. She suspected that the true purpose of Star Cores might not be complete obliteration.

Research on Star Cores was ongoing across various factions, but Phantylia had never heard of any living being capable of containing one. Even sealing a Star Core was an astronomical feat—requiring resources that only the Intergalactic Peace Corporation could muster.

Ordinary nations couldn’t afford the cost of sealing a Star Core for a single year, let alone developing techniques to isolate one completely.

The idea of a living body coexisting with a Star Core?

Ridiculous. If anyone could manage that, I’d kneel on the spot and kowtow twice—no, thrice, if the first two weren’t loud enough!

It was proof enough that Star Cores were beyond the reach of any known faction—they were simply too powerful and dangerous to handle.

Still, Phantylia couldn’t shake the thought. “But it really does look like a Star Core…”

As she studied the sphere, she became acutely aware of a strange, lingering sensation: the feeling of being watched. It had been present ever since she entered the consciousness space.

This wasn’t a hostile presence, but it meant the space’s owner—Chen Lin—had already awakened. He was aware of her intrusion yet powerless to expel her.

Phantylia marveled at how quickly Chen Lin had awakened. In her experience, anyone whose mind she infiltrated would remain in a dreamlike stupor for as long as she wished.

She basked in the thrill of this rare delight—of being unwelcome yet impossible to dislodge.

“Once I locate your core consciousness, everything will proceed as I planned.”

With that declaration, Phantylia’s form shattered into countless motes of light, diving into the Star Core-like sphere.

All she needed was to find the core within this space. Once that was done, she could seamlessly replace Chen Lin. Their identities would merge, indistinguishable from one another.

As for whether the Empire would track her down…

If Phantylia were truly afraid of retribution, she wouldn’t have come to the Xianzhou Alliance alone in the first place.

Unbeknownst to Phantylia, every thread of psionic energy within the consciousness space acted as a watchful eye, closely monitoring her every move.

Once Phantylia fully entered the "Star Core," the swirling psionic energy within the space began to coalesce. In an instant, it took the form of Chen Lin himself. He stood there, stroking his chin as he stared at the core-like object.

"Core consciousness? I actually have something like that?"

This entire space, except for his grand awakening, had been painstakingly carved out over time, bit by bit, as he absorbed the energy from various Star Cores. He knew the contents of this place better than anyone.

Aside from the Star Core he had forcibly integrated and "reformed" for labor, the space consisted entirely of an unfathomable sea of psionic energy. There was no room for anything else.

Yet, even now, he had no clear idea what this energy-based intruder was. Outside, he'd genuinely believed he was outmatched and at risk of being mercilessly pummeled.

But once things shifted to the realm of psionics, the intruder was utterly pathetic—weak, helpless, and insignificant. If he hadn’t deliberately let her in, the protective layers outside his consciousness space alone would have taken her centuries to breach.

Pathetic.

Chen Lin had been following her closely, not even bothering to hide his presence. Yet she hadn’t noticed. She strutted about like a smug child, hands on her hips, laughing triumphantly.

Only Chen Lin’s steely will and near-infinite patience kept him from bursting into laughter alongside her.

He wanted to see what she was up to. Despite her frailty, her body contained an abundant supply of convertible energy.

Just as organic beings could be integrated into a power grid for energy, Chen Lin realized this energy-based creature could be funneled into the Star Core to generate psionics. It seemed like a fair trade.

With that thought, Chen Lin’s form disintegrated, reverting into countless strands of energy that flowed back into the "Star Core," continuing to observe Phantylia.

---

Meanwhile, Fu Xuan rushed tirelessly through the streets. Soon, she arrived at the perimeter of the "Tianshui Pavilion" teahouse that Jing Yuan had mentioned. A large crowd had gathered, their curiosity drawn by an irresistible aroma wafting through the air.

“What’s going on in there? Why are all of you just standing around?” Fu Xuan demanded.

Some bystanders were simply there to gawk, though they had arrived too late to push their way through the densely packed throng. Frustrated by the crowd, one grumpy onlooker snapped, “Stop stepping on my feet, you fool! Can’t you smell that lingering fragrance in the air? Someone’s brewing Imperial Bowstring Tea in there!”

“That tea?!” another bystander exclaimed, wide-eyed.

“What else could it be? Stop pushing! No one’s going to make room for you. Just stand here and enjoy the smell!”

The chastised onlooker didn’t get angry. Instead, he chuckled and craned his neck to catch a glimpse of the spectacle. He was eager to see who this grand figure might be, capable of possessing such legendary tea leaves—and brewing them in such an unassuming teahouse.

It was the kind of tale that fueled endless fascination. Even if they couldn’t taste the tea themselves, watching someone else enjoy it brought a unique satisfaction. It was like watching a livestream of someone savoring exquisite food—it had its own peculiar charm.

Afterward, they could brag to friends: “I saw someone drinking Imperial Bowstring Tea. Have you?”

And if nothing else, they had at least inhaled its fragrance.

But Fu Xuan wasn’t interested in such trivialities. Whether the tea was legendary or mundane, she didn’t care. Stories of its mythical origins meant nothing to her. Tea, after all, was just tea—something she could drink ten cups of a day without thinking twice. But her dear brother was irreplaceable. If she lost him, no amount of tea could make up for it.

With a graceful leap, Fu Xuan ascended into the air, her robes fluttering as she stepped lightly across the heads of the crowd. Her movements were so elegant they seemed to form lotus blossoms beneath her feet as she reached the teahouse’s entrance.

At the doorway, the teahouse’s staff, including the frazzled manager, were busy managing the chaos. They strained to maintain order, letting only genuine customers inside while ensuring the growing crowd outside didn’t spiral into a riot.

As Fu Xuan descended, one overworked attendant nearly asked her to get in line. Fortunately, the manager shoved the attendant aside and hurriedly bowed, his face a mixture of awe and terror.

“Honored Diviner, your presence graces our humble establishment…”

Fu Xuan cut him off with a stern expression. “Where is my dear brother?”

The manager froze. In all his centuries living on the Xianzhou Luofu, he’d never heard of the Diviner having a brother. But such matters were far beyond his station to question.

Tentatively, he asked, “Might I inquire as to your dear brother’s appearance? My memory isn’t the best…”

Under normal circumstances, Fu Xuan might have described him. But with time of the essence, she had no patience for pleasantries. Closing her eyes, she performed a quick calculation.

Ten seconds later, she waved her hand, and the people standing before her were gently pushed aside by an invisible force.

Just as Fu Xuan prepared to head upstairs, a loud crash echoed from above. Pieces of wood, painted to resemble window frames, shattered and fell to the ground outside.

The crowd barely had time to react before fragments of debris bounced off a translucent barrier overhead and landed harmlessly on the ground.

The gathered onlookers gasped in shock, stepping back several meters. Only then did they realize the Diviner had saved them. The faint glow in Fu Xuan’s palm faded, but she paid no attention to their gratitude.

Her heart filled with foreboding, Fu Xuan raised her hand, creating a barrier to keep the bystanders outside. Then, with another leap, she soared to the shattered third-floor window.

Inside the room, Fu Xuan landed just in time to see a familiar figure collapse. In a flash, she rushed forward and caught the young man in her arms.

What greeted her was a grisly scene. The walls were splattered with blood, and severed limbs were scattered haphazardly.

If someone told her this was a slaughterhouse rather than a teahouse, she would have believed them.

The brazier at the center of the room still burned faintly, and steam wafted from a teapot on the table. Various teacups and utensils lay scattered, all showing signs of recent use.

Clearly, Chen Lin had been stalling the enemy with tea-making before things took a bloody turn.

I was too late…

“My dear brother… wake up!” Fu Xuan shook him, but the young man in her arms showed no response. Her expression darkened as veins bulged on the back of her hand.

She didn’t need to think hard to figure out what had happened. The sight of her unconscious brother spoke volumes about the enemy’s tactics.

Gritting her teeth, Fu Xuan growled, “You dogs of the Legion… this isn’t over!”

There was no time for anger or threats. Fu Xuan knew exactly who the enemy was—Phantylia, one of the seven Lord Ravagers. As one of the Xianzhou Six Commissions’ leaders, Fu Xuan was well-versed in intelligence about such beings.

Setting her brother down carefully, she tried to use her powers to expel Phantylia from his mind.

But the moment her energy entered Chen Lin’s body, it was met with impenetrable resistance.

It was as if she were using a tiny file to open a bank vault door. Who knew how long it would take?

Fu Xuan’s expression grew darker by the second…

---

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!