Is Unlocking the Stellaris Tech Tree in Star Rail Really Okay? [212]

The sky seemed to have torn open, yet anyone familiar with the Xianzhou knew the truth: this space was merely an artificially created dimension layered over the existing one.

If even this place could be broken, then disaster for the Xianzhou itself wouldn’t be far behind.

Thus, the colossal swords and surging sword energy were nothing more than manifestations brought into existence by the [Zroni Nexus], using its energy reserves to realize the will of its master.

Within the [Zroni Nexus], Chen Lin was perhaps no less than a god of creation.

Li Sushang, for her part, wasn’t thinking about any of this. When the intense standoff between the two combatants grew unbearably oppressive, she turned tail and bolted without a second thought.

Even at a distance, the sheer formless pressure left her breathless, forcing her to gasp for air. If she didn’t run now, then when?

But she hadn’t gone far when the clash of titanic swords and rampant sword energy erupted, creating a storm so violent it nearly turned the entire cargo port upside down.

The gale buffeted Li Sushang, causing her to stumble. She twisted her ankle but managed to stay upright thanks to her solid stance and training. Otherwise, she might’ve ended up face-first in the dirt.

Twisting mid-air to regain control, she grabbed hold of a massive cargo container to steady herself.

She couldn’t lift her head or see the sky. Squinting downward, she caught sight of the ominous shadow on the ground—two powerful energies colliding violently above.

Her brow furrowed, and she cried out in pain, "Ah! Sand in my eyes! I knew I shouldn’t have opened them!"

First a twisted ankle, now sand in her eyes. Her curiosity had brought her nothing but misery!

She braced herself for a long struggle against the discomfort, trying to remain grounded while dodging debris. Fear gripped her as she worried about being caught in the crossfire or crushed by flying objects.

Mother was right, she thought bitterly. All those grand, heroic scenes in storybooks only bring terror when faced in real life…

The only thing echoing in her mind was the memory of her officer’s casual words on the star skiff: "I don’t know any martial arts."

You call this "not knowing martial arts"? You liar, Commander!

"...Wait. Did it stop?"

The fierce winds suddenly died down, leaving behind an eerie calm. The devastation that moments ago seemed apocalyptic now felt like an illusion. Debris clattered to the ground, and Li Sushang finally took a moment to breathe.

Pah! Pah! She spat out sand and rubbed her eyes, checking her body for injuries. Miraculously unscathed, she muttered in disbelief, "Did the fight end?"

Several enormous swords had fallen, yet the port wasn’t destroyed. How was that even possible?

And those swords… why did they look so familiar?

At the heart of the battlefield, chaos reigned. Though parts of the dock were in shambles—ladders broken, sections of the ground torn up—it hadn’t been entirely ruined.

Despite the intensity of their clash, both combatants had deliberately restrained themselves. Jingliu had controlled her strikes with precision, while Chen Lin retracted the massive swords into the [Zroni Nexus] the instant the fight concluded, conserving energy for later use.

Jingliu sheathed her sword and exhaled deeply. "A blade leaves its mark. Yet, you can summon a sword without leaving a trace. A century ago, had you been among the Xianzhou, the title of Sword Champion would never have fallen to me."

"The position of Sword Champion has been vacant for a hundred years, hasn’t it?" Chen Lin blinked in surprise. "Wait—you were the previous Sword Champion!"

During his time on the Xianzhou, Chen Lin had often been summoned by Jing Yuan to visit the Divine Dignitary Hall. There, the person he encountered most frequently wasn’t a guard or a soldier, but Yanqing—Jing Yuan’s personal guard and disciple.

Yanqing often practiced his swordsmanship outside the Hall, and over time, Chen Lin had learned of the young man’s ambition to claim the title of Sword Champion.

The position wasn’t just a prestigious title; it was a symbol of unparalleled martial prowess. Simply uttering the words "Sword Champion" on a battlefield could rally legions of Cloud Knights, a testament to its significance.

Chen Lin had never been particularly interested in Xianzhou traditions. He only knew the position had been vacant for a century, and Jing Yuan had always seemed reluctant to discuss why. Chen Lin hadn’t pressed him for details.

Over time, he’d let those so-called "common knowledge" tidbits of Xianzhou culture slip from his mind entirely.

But now, with Jingliu’s sudden revelation, Chen Lin couldn’t hide his shock.

"A hollow title means little," Jingliu said, shaking her head. "Because of my past, I remain a criminal in the eyes of the Xianzhou. But I have no intention of harming the Xianzhou or interfering with the Ambrosial Arbor. You can rest assured of that.

"And one more thing…"

Jingliu paused mid-step, then turned to face Chen Lin. "Have you studied mystic arts? Or perhaps something else? That massive sword you summoned, the link between your gestures and its manifestation—there were no signs, no fluctuations. Can you explain how you achieved that? If it’s inconvenient, you don’t have to answer."

Her expression was serious, and for good reason. As a former Sword Champion, she found it incomprehensible.

The enormous sword had appeared without any discernible energy signature, and even she hadn’t detected how the void had been opened.

Chen Lin hesitated, unsure how to explain. Was he supposed to admit that the hand seal was just a flashy move he’d copied from Fu Xuan to make himself look cooler? That it served no actual purpose?

Jingliu wasn’t an enemy, and she likely had ties to Jing Yuan. She might even be considered an ally. After clearing up their initial misunderstanding, she’d willingly sparred with him, pointed out his mistakes, and shown no hostility.

If it had been some accidental discovery or genuine technique, Chen Lin wouldn’t have hesitated to share it. But it wasn’t. That made things… awkward.

If he said it was real, he couldn’t explain the connection between sword intent and psionics. If he said it wasn’t, he’d lose face as a self-proclaimed swordmaster.

My pride cannot falter.

After a long silence, Chen Lin finally spoke. "It is a technique derived from the Empire’s unique psionics, combined with my insights into the Xianzhou’s mystic arts. The boundless void forms the foundation, the primordial essence ignites creation, and the five cycles complete the heavens. I’ve named it the [Path of the Void]."

Inwardly, he smirked. If wuxia and xianxia novels have taught me anything, it’s that slapping an esoteric name on something makes it sound convincing. Add in some vague principles and psionics, and no one can call you out.

At least this way, he wouldn’t be holding Jingliu back with a nonsensical explanation.

"The [Path of the Void]…" Jingliu murmured, bowing her head in thought. After a long pause, she nodded. "I see. Thank you for enlightening me. Governor’s younger brother, I have a feeling we’ll meet again. Until then, farewell."

"Ahaha, until next time," Chen Lin replied with a laugh.

As Jingliu left, Chen Lin reflected on the outcome. She wasn’t a threat to his plans, and while he couldn’t control every variable, this was close enough. It was better not to overreach.

If she had gained any insights from their exchange, it was entirely her own accomplishment. After all, Jingliu was the former Sword Champion, while Chen Lin was just a psion wielding borrowed swordmastery from the [Zroni Nexus]. They were worlds apart.

Looking at the wrecked dockyard around him, Chen Lin sighed, already dreading the explanations he’d owe Jing Yuan and Fu Xuan later.

Thankfully, the port hadn’t been completely destroyed. Most of the damage was surface-level, far less severe than areas ravaged by the Stellaron disaster. Repairs would be manageable.

This port is crucial for future trade with Luofu, Chen Lin reminded himself. I can’t afford to burn my own bridges. It has to be fixed, no matter the cost.

Summoning a sword from the void, Chen Lin swung it a few times experimentally, muttering to himself, "No wonder sword cultivators are so popular in xianxia games. Adding special effects really is stylish."

His understanding of the [Zroni Nexus] had deepened, though it left him uneasy. If the dimension had enabled the ancient Zroni race to ascend to galactic dominance, then its potential surely went far beyond this.

The real headache was its energy consumption…

Just learning a few sword techniques to protect himself had nearly drained the remaining [Zro Dust] reserves within the dimension. How much power had that last Gospel preacher wielded to initiate a god-war between the factions of that era?

How many thousands of tons of energy would it take to start a war that could freeze time itself? Chen Lin could only imagine—and even then, it felt absurdly exaggerated.

All in all, with Jingliu’s cooperation, this encounter had been a significant success. He owed her a favor, albeit a small one. After all, she hadn’t unleashed her full strength against him, choosing instead to hold back.

If the opportunity arose in the future, perhaps he could probe a bit further—find out what crime this former Sword Champion had committed to become a criminal of the Xianzhou. If there was a way to help, he wouldn’t mind lending a hand; otherwise, he’d simply leave it be.

Chen Lin was in a decent mood after gaining a new skill. At least he wouldn’t need to worry about fleeing every time an enemy got too close. But as he arrived at the dock, he saw a star skiff teetering precariously in mid-air, knocked loose from its berth. No passengers were in sight.

Where was she?

He frowned, jogging to the edge of the railing to peer down at the cloud sea below. No sign of Li Sushang.

Moments later, a dirt-covered figure hobbled out from the cargo port. One leg dragged slightly, and her face was streaked with grime. With sand clinging to the corner of her mouth, Li Sushang looked up at him pitifully.

"Commander…"

Chen Lin turned, eyebrow raised. "Didn’t I tell you to retreat at the first sign of trouble? What were you doing in there?"

The young Cloud Knight awkwardly shifted her gaze, scratching her head. After a moment of hesitation, she pouted and mumbled, "I thought maybe I could help… You were up there fighting, and Cloud Knights don’t run from danger. I’m no coward!"

That brief outburst revealed her aspirations—Li Sushang wasn’t just seeking recognition; she wanted to leave her mark in the annals of history. Her dream was to become a legend among the Cloud Knights.

"Here’s the problem," Chen Lin said, unable to resist teasing her. "I saw you swinging your sword back at the Ministry of Engineering—it’s like watching a farmer with a scythe. Compared to your comrades, you might have more guts, but that’s about it."

His comment cut to the heart of the matter. Despite his playful tone, the criticism held weight: her swordplay was clumsy and inefficient, ill-suited for proper combat.

Li Sushang’s shoulders slumped. "It’s not like I want to be this bad! But this sword’s been in my family for generations. Mother could wield it one-handed without breaking a sweat, but I can barely swing it with both hands!"

"Then why not hand over your family heirloom to me?" Chen Lin joked, pulling out a lightweight straight sword. "I’ll give you a lighter one in exchange. Lifetime warranty—if it breaks, you get a replacement free of charge!"

"No way!" she exclaimed, clutching her sword protectively. "If I lost it, Mother would kill me!"

"Then stick with it. Who knows? Maybe one day you’ll grow into it."

Chen Lin straightened the precarious star skiff and hauled it back to the dock before hopping on and settling into a comfortable seat. "C’mon, we’re heading to the Alchemy Commission. You still need to report back, don’t you?"

Li Sushang, however, didn’t immediately board. Instead, she stared at him for a long moment, her expression conflicted. Just as Chen Lin was beginning to feel uneasy under her gaze, she hesitantly asked, "Commander… could you teach me that sword style?"

"Teach you?" He blinked.

She mustered her courage. "I saw your fight with that woman."

Li Sushang’s attempt to describe what she’d witnessed was… less than eloquent. She flailed her arms as she spoke, her limited vocabulary punctuated by sound effects like "whoosh" and "boom." She described his graceful sword flight, the swirling sword shadows, and the towering swords that tore through space, calling his techniques "unfathomable."

If only she didn’t mix up idioms so disastrously.

Her "outstanding and unparalleled skills" became "outstanding and weedy skills." Her "techniques that dominated all rivals" somehow morphed into "chicken-headed sheep techniques."

Are you insulting me or praising me?!

"Stop, stop!" Chen Lin finally interrupted, rubbing his temples. "Your vocabulary is an absolute disaster. Who taught you to talk like that?"

"Well… Mother made me practice swordsmanship before sunrise every day, so I was always half-asleep in class. The teachers used to call me ‘Big Pillow Li.’"

And you thought that was a compliment?!

Finding someone on the Xianzhou who managed to slip through the cracks of compulsory education was rare. Was this luck, or misfortune?

Chen Lin gave her a pitying look. No wonder her eyes were so bright and innocent—untainted by the burdens of knowledge. She reminded him of Seele from Jarilo-VI, another person who had barely read a handful of books in her life.

Back then, Seele had confidently proclaimed she’d teach him everything she knew. But now, faced with Li Sushang’s request, Chen Lin couldn’t bring himself to be so bold.

It wasn’t about guarding some "secret family technique" or hyping up the exclusivity of his skills. The problem was that he didn’t fully understand psionics himself. How was he supposed to teach her?

Still, Li Sushang’s enthusiasm was genuine. Despite her own struggles, she had been willing to risk her life to help. If that passion was fake, it would’ve been easy for him to see through it.

Although Chen Lin didn’t consider himself a righteous person, he couldn’t help but respect such a pure-hearted resolve.

Seeing the hopeful glimmer in her eyes, he sighed.

"I can’t teach you."

"Is it because I’m not talented enough?"

"More or less. Xianzhou people lack something crucial. You’ll never reach my level."

"I see." Li Sushang’s disappointment was fleeting, replaced by a determined nod. "Then I’ll work harder. Mother says hard work can make up for a lack of talent!"

Chen Lin glanced at her sideways, surprised by her persistence.

The star skiff hummed to life, and as they began their journey, Li Sushang’s voice came from behind him.

"If it’s just about technique, could you at least show me when you have time?"

Chen Lin froze, then turned to see her looking at him with hopeful, shining eyes.

For a moment, he was stunned. Then, before he could react, Li Sushang dropped to her knees with a loud thud.

"Master, please accept this disciple’s bow!"

"What?! I didn’t say I’d take you as—"

Ignoring his protests, she rummaged through her pocket and pulled out a half-empty bottle of water. Holding it up like a sacred offering, she declared, "Master, please have some tea!"

Chen Lin: "…"

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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!