Is Unlocking the Stellaris Tech Tree in Star Rail Really Okay? [194]

The revival of the Ambrosial Arbor tree brought immense changes, leaving the people of the Xianzhou in a state of panic. Only those well-versed in ancient texts and possessing exceptional intelligence could grasp the implications.

Fu Xuan, having studied ancient books extensively from a young age and with the backing of the influential Fu family, held resources far beyond the reach of ordinary individuals.

Just as during the Xianzhou's interstellar voyages, when commoners believed that even the emperor farming must involve golden tools and buckets, people presumed the Fu family's library was no more than a room full of books—merely what Fu Xuan had read as a child over a few years.

While examining the corpse of a dead Changyou Ape, Fu Xuan and Qingque took turns explaining to Chen Lin and Xing—who were unfamiliar with Xianzhou's ancient texts—the accomplishments the Xianzhou had achieved through the Ambrosial Arbor tree's resources.

The spirit beasts now revived were once battle beasts, domesticated by the Xianzhou for military use.

“Its fur is dull and lifeless, its skin sagging and riddled with festering sores. Its final self-inflicted death resembles the desperate struggles of a cornered beast. Even without that final punch, it would have died soon anyway...” Fu Xuan picked up a tuft of the Changyou Ape's fur, rubbing it between her fingers as she mused. “This truly shows signs of life draining away—something I’ve never heard of before.”

Ambrosial Arbor beasts were known for their immortality and remarkable regenerative abilities. How could a freshly revived Changyou Ape have such festering sores?

“I’ve also never heard of Ambrosial Arbor spirit beasts aging and dying,” Qingque agreed.

Fu Xuan gave her a pointed look. “There are plenty of things you haven’t heard of, you lazy girl. You hardly ever focus on your work; encountering something unknown is only natural.”

“Well, you’re not that much older than me…” Qingque muttered under her breath. But hearing Fu Xuan’s warning tone, she immediately plastered on a fawning smile. “Of course, you’re right, Master Diviner. Qingque is just a little girl.”

In truth, age was never a trump card for Fu Xuan in arguments with Qingque.

“So, there is feasibility in this after all?”

“Dear brother, it’s not that I doubt your judgment, but you have yet to fully grasp this technique. You mustn’t act rashly…”

“I understand, and I do appreciate my elder sister’s concern and assistance. But rest assured, I know my limits,” Chen Lin replied with a smile that gave away nothing of his inner thoughts.

The pain he spoke of was no ordinary physical injury—it was a mental collapse triggered by spiritual overload, as if his mind had almost crashed from trying to handle calculations beyond its capacity. Were it not for his oceanic reservoir of psionic power, his spiritual world would likely have shattered by now.

Reversing the natural longevity of a Ambrosial Arbor spirit beast with psionics was an impossible task by any measure. Yet Chen Lin’s psionic talent lay precisely in achieving the impossible, turning nothing into something. This ability came with its own risks.

The advantage was that with sufficient imagination, he could create and modify rules, even replicating abilities from other psionic users—like Bronya’s aptitude for military enhancement—so long as he understood the principles.

The downside, however, was that if his psionic reserves fell short of his ambition, he could face catastrophic backlash.

The aged and dead Ambrosial Arbor spirit beast before them was a testament to this. At great personal cost, Chen Lin had bent the laws governing an immortal beast, even overriding the blessings of the Abundance Aeon, Ambrosial Arbor’s patron deity.

The price he paid was severe, and he dared not repeat the feat lightly.

Hearing words of gratitude that emphasized her contribution, Fu Xuan couldn’t help but smile smugly. For a moment, she wished there were fewer people around—just her and her brother.

“Dear brother, your realization of this technique’s dangers brings me relief,” Fu Xuan said after a pause, her tone neutral but sincere. “That said, the power you’ve demonstrated is truly awe-inspiring. If wielded wisely, it will lead to extraordinary achievements.”

The memory of Chen Lin uttering a single word, causing the mighty Changyou Ape to collapse and die, lingered vividly in Fu Xuan’s mind. This must be what they call “Word of Power.” To speak and make it so…

She recalled Kafka’s warnings about Chen Lin’s overwhelming potential—abilities capable of obliterating fleets in an instant. Fu Xuan had been skeptical before, but witnessing his prowess firsthand left no room for doubt.

Thankfully… he’s my brother.

Though tempted to thank the Stellaron Hunters, Fu Xuan’s pride as the Xianzhou Master Diviner restrained her from expressing gratitude to an organization so ideologically opposed to her own.

“By the way, what’s the general’s next step?”

“You don’t need to ask him that,” Chen Lin interrupted.

Fu Xuan stopped mid-step, glancing back at Chen Lin, who had just stood up, appearing much steadier now.

“If you take a closer look, elder sister, you’ll notice there’s no trace of the general’s presence on that platform anymore.”

“?”

Fu Xuan looked up and saw that the holographic projection of Jing Yuan atop the high platform had indeed disappeared. His sudden departure alarmed her until Chen Lin placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“Do you not understand the general’s intentions, elder sister?”

“…”

Fu Xuan folded her arms, exchanging a long look with Chen Lin before realization dawned.

“Am I to handle this matter myself again?!”

“Who else?”

Most of the revived Ambrosial Arbor spirit beasts had already been subdued by the Cloud Knights, their remnants swiftly dealt with. Chen Lin led the group back to the high platform where they had been earlier.

Picking up a command token left on the stone table, he handed it to Fu Xuan.

“Big brother mentioned that you, elder sister, are to guide me and expand my horizons during this journey. This token should make its purpose clear. As for what comes next, the decision is yours.”

Fu Xuan sighed, clearly resigned to the responsibility as she accepted the token.

“In my view, our immediate priority is to gather the Cloud Knights and head to the cave where the Ambrosial Arbor is rooted. We must eliminate the Stellaron corruption and halt its rebirth as quickly as possible.”

“‘Heroes arise among women.’ Who says a heroine cannot match a hero?” Chen Lin quipped with a teasing smile. “Your strategy, dear sister, is indeed the key to resolving this crisis. But think about it—our brother mentioned knowing the Stellaron’s location even before Kafka’s capture. And why did he merely drive off the Disciple Sanctus remnants without taking further action?”

“Wait, what?”

Fu Xuan paused, her expression hardening as she processed Chen Lin’s words. After several seconds, she glared at him.

“Dear brother…”

“Yes?”

“You and the general are incorrigible schemers!”

Her snow-white cheeks were flushed red—clearly a mix of indignation and frustration.

Chen Lin’s private discussions with Jing Yuan had occurred numerous times, and Fu Xuan was not privy to all of them. Among the secrets she hadn’t been informed of was their joint decision to deal a decisive blow to the remnants of the Disciple Sanctus.

When the time came for such a strike, Chen Lin’s personality left no room for compromise—if an opportunity arose, he would leave no survivors. Jing Yuan, as the general of Luofu, would likewise have no tolerance for such treasonous insurgents within his jurisdiction.

Thus, the two reached a consensus: the current Disciple Sanctus had to be utterly eradicated, root and branch.

Chen Lin’s possession of the sect leader’s command token was still a closely guarded secret. The token was not just a symbol of authority—it served as a device for communication and information storage, revealing the sect’s membership, including recent recruits uninvolved in the rebellion, their locations, and other details.

Through this token, all could be uncovered. Jing Yuan often asked Chen Lin how he would handle such a situation if he were in command. Chen Lin offered two simple, if brutal, suggestions:

• Execute all members to set a harsh example.

• Use this final opportunity to not only destroy the irredeemable members but also to reeducate the new recruits under the Xianzhou’s guidance, transforming them into a resource—a covert intelligence network monitored by the Divination Commission.

After much deliberation, Jing Yuan chose the second path. However, this strategy required one crucial condition: the current Disciple Sanctus active members had to be completely annihilated, leaving no one to leak the sect’s secrets.

The sect had hidden itself well, adapting to life in the shadows. Drawing them out entirely required one tactic—lure them into believing victory was within reach, only to crush them with a single blow.

Chen Lin explained the strategy he and Jing Yuan had devised.

“...We need to wait a little longer. Only by pulling them up by the roots can we truly cleanse the land. The Ambrosial Arbor’s revival is almost certainly the Disciple Sanctus handiwork—this is their so-called ‘hope of victory.’”

“And what if it isn’t?!” Fu Xuan demanded, hands on her hips.

Chen Lin shrugged. “It must be.”

“What makes you so certain?”

“On the way here, I saw large numbers of Cloud Knights stationed across Luofu. They were armed and armored, not for routine patrols but to prepare for potential emergencies. The Disciple Sanctus isn’t as formidable as you think; their total membership doesn’t exceed thirty thousand. Of those, only a thousand have had the chance to use their so-called ‘Immortal Elixirs,’ meaning their true fighting force numbers merely a few thousand.”

“Hmm.”

“Big brother initially planned to ignore the Disciple Sanctus, letting them flee. I advised him instead to tighten their living space—pressure them, but without destroying them entirely. Now, the sect is cornered. Even knowing this is a trap, they must act, or they will lose any value to the forces supporting them. Their only chance to gain leverage is to prove their worth through action.”

Chen Lin toyed with the command token Fu Xuan hadn’t taken, twirling it in his hand as he paced. “The Xianzhou’s current crisis is full of unanswered questions, like pieces missing from a puzzle. Yesterday, the Arbiter’s attack filled in one gap; today, the Stellaron Hunters filled another. The picture is clear now—reviving the Ambrosial Arbor is the Disciple Sanctus final gambit!”

“Then why wait? Seizing the moment to strike when their ranks are unstable would be a perfect opportunity!” Fu Xuan stared down at her younger brother, who had suddenly crouched in front of her. His proximity, paired with the faint scent of his cologne, made her feel oddly exposed. Despite this, she stood firm. “And if the Disciple Sanctus commits some heinous act in the meantime, who will bear the responsibility? Neither I, nor the general, nor you, dear brother, can afford that risk.”

Chen Lin exhaled deeply and, to her surprise, reached out and pinched her cheek. Expecting an outburst, he was caught off guard when Fu Xuan simply stared at him, expressionless.

“Elder sister, think carefully. It’s not as though we’re doing nothing. Just because we’re sitting back doesn’t mean everyone is sitting back.”

At that moment, Chen Lin understood why Jing Yuan had tasked him with helping Fu Xuan. His sister was indeed brilliant, but her impatience often led to rash decisions—a trait that could be costly.

Propping her chin on her hand, Fu Xuan pondered aloud. “Is there something I’ve overlooked?”

“My friends,” Chen Lin replied with a faint smile. “They’re never idle. The Astral Express wouldn’t stand by and ignore a crisis on the Xianzhou. And the Disciple Sanctus knows me only by my political identity within the empire. They don’t know my friends at all.”

Chen Lin shook his head. “The things I can’t do—they can. And they’ll do it without revealing our intentions.”

This strategy was, at its core, an open scheme. The Divination Commission’s actions had already signaled to the Disciple Sanctus that time was running out. If they didn’t fight back soon, the Cloud Knights would expose their last hideouts, leaving them truly nowhere to hide.

As for the possibility of the Disciple Sanctus breaking through the Cloud Knights’ defenses, Chen Lin wasn’t worried. If they had such capability, they’d have fled long ago instead of sacrificing decoys to delay pursuit.

Once their safehouses were all discovered, the sect would be completely cornered.

The Disciple Sanctus undoubtedly understood this—but understanding it didn’t grant them solutions. Their only recourse was to appeal to their backers, proving their value to retain support. Chen Lin had no doubt that these backers—especially Phantom Gleam, who coveted the Ambrosial Arbor—would not stand idly by.

As Fu Xuan opened her mouth in disbelief, Chen Lin caught sight of Phantom Gleam in the distance, lingering near Walter and March 7. She stared at the Ambrosial Arbor with greedy eyes, practically drooling.

All this… for the full map I nearly died to reveal, Chen Lin thought wryly.

March 7, overhearing their conversation, bounced over, her pent-up energy finally finding release.

“Chen Lin! Got anything for me to do?”

“Plenty,” he replied with a grin.

Fu Xuan tried to think of ways to prevent the Ambrosial Arbor’s tempting curse from falling into the wrong hands—particularly those of outsiders like the Astral Express crew. Chen Lin was different; he was her brother and thus not an outsider.

But she found no viable solution. Her thoughts were interrupted by her communicator buzzing with a new message from Jing Yuan.

Reading it, Fu Xuan turned pale.

The message recapped Chen Lin’s plan, word for word.

She felt a pang of grievance.

Why didn’t you tell me all this sooner, you conniving duo?!

“Dear brother…”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think I’m… stupid? Is that why you two left me out?”

Chen Lin blinked. “What?”

---

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!