Chapter 100#

Distant Star Reflection 08#

“You are indeed first in succession, Duke,” the secretary said.

They were riding an airship directly from the mid-air Violet Aviation Port toward the cathedral’s location—according to navigation, called the Holy City.

Tan Per had awakened, sitting across from Yu Feichen at a table by the window.

“However, imperial succession doesn’t follow linear order. Allow me to elaborate,” the secretary said.

Yu Feichen nodded. Thrones don’t fall from heaven.

Emperors were elected through ballot.

Losh Landon was first in succession, holding initial ten votes. The second heir had five votes. Everyone else held one.

True balloting proceeded from initial votes. The empire had ten imperial electors—four from the cathedral, six from nobility ruling major star systems. Each elector held one vote. Additionally, the cabinet’s prime minister held one vote.

“However, you needn’t concern yourself with these people’s votes. You only need care about one other ballot,” the secretary said.

Yu Feichen: “Explain.”

“That would be our most revered Pope. He doesn’t possess a vote—he possesses a veto,” the secretary gazed at Yu Feichen intently. “So Duke, you absolutely must win the Pope’s favor, though he’s long known you’re a scoundrel. Now we go greet him.”

The driver beside them practically glowed: “Manager, could I become the future royal fleet commander?”

Secretary: “Yes, Little Si. And I become prime minister.”

They embraced excitedly, as if already drawing their commander and prime minister salaries.

Yu Feichen looked out the window.

Dawn light broke across the capital star Moho.

This was a prosperous, beautiful planet with varied architecture laid out orderly. The Holy City centered it.

The airship flew low. The entire Holy City spread before them in layers. A massive, imposing building complex loomed—predominantly deep crimson, solemn yet majestic. It occupied enormous territory, divided into six districts, with religious pointed spires crowning tall buildings. Roads ran straight and true; people walking maintained upright, cautious posture.

Yu Feichen observed below. This Holy City’s construction demonstrated profound deliberation—functional zoning clearly delineated, barriers between sections impenetrable.

Among hierarchical civilizations he’d encountered, it ranked exceptionally.

Clearly, this place maintained strict rules. As a role within it, without sufficient overwhelming power, everything must follow those rules. For instance, he couldn’t single-handedly charge the Pope’s temple and collapse the person. Within established systems, even losing any individual person allowed continuation.

To obtain that hot-potato imperial throne, he really did need, as the secretary said, to seek it before the Pope.

If he held bargaining chips, negotiations would suffice. But currying favor wasn’t his strength.

The secretary and driver were still celebrating in dreams of the five-hundred-thousand raise, ignoring them. Yu Feichen bent his fingers, tapping the table edge.

Tan Per looked toward him.

“A proposition, Bishop,” Yu Feichen said. “Next world like this, simply give me a commanding military force instead.”

—Even having him play General Ashley would work.

“Don’t you think,” he said, “you’ve misjudged my position?”

Not just this world. Previous dungeons felt wrong too—power without outlet. This time, alpha mania amplified the sensation.

He felt if he were a deity, he’d never arrange believers to shine in unsuitable fields. Rather, precisely extract maximum value from them.

Tan Per didn’t seem fully awake yet, carrying lazy exhaustion, regarding Yu Feichen for a while before his ice-green pupils gradually cleared. His long fingers slowly interlaced—very deity-like posture. Yu Feichen thought the person wore a different face once leaving his bed.

“Rather than power, I’d prefer you show me your inner heart. Rather than orders, I want to see your choices,” the deity said.

Previously, Yu Feichen believed the deity lacked people charging through eternal night, observing secretly to assess capability. But by the deity’s tone, it wanted his comprehensive development.

In any case, it certainly wasn’t that the deity genuinely felt curious about Yu Feichen personally, wanting exploration.

Honestly, his inner heart had little worth displaying. His moral standards could be called flexible.

And now the situation—

Yu Feichen: “Do I have many choices?”

Merely seizing political power for actual authority, then for changing this world, toppling what displeased him. He found the cathedral looked rather good.

Tan Per smiled inscrutably: “People make choices ceaselessly.”

Yu Feichen stared directly into Tan Per’s eyes.

He did enjoy the deity’s demeanor, but that didn’t conflict with finding it displeasing.

So he thought of something.

“You want me choosing,” Yu Feichen said, “then I choose becoming a tyrant, governing the entire world into garbage, still fundamentally affecting it, occupation succeeds.”

“You…” Tan Per slightly furrowed his brow. The deity’s haughty posture finally receded somewhat, but quickly he softened his expression, faint helplessness in his smile, like watching someone being unreasonable.

Finally, Tan Per said: “Why say that? You wouldn’t do such things.”

Yu Feichen thought: You’ve known me how long? What basis for affirming I’m good?

Dark, indistinct mood flickered briefly. His surface remained unchanged: “Joking.”

Tan Per seemed not to notice the change, smiling gently.

The airship landed before the great cathedral. Before disembarking, General Ashley sent another message through someone.

“Didn’t extract the names list. Remaining rebels dying in struggle, creating chaos throughout the Holy City. The Pope is furious. Wait another two marks of time, we’ll go together. Be careful speaking with His Holiness,” the general told Yu Feichen. Finishing, he gazed deeply at Tan Per sitting quietly by the window.

Thankfully this place had no death penalty. Exile to mining star was the sentence ceiling. Otherwise Tan Per probably deserved dismemberment.

The general continued: “Do you understand your strengths and weaknesses?”

Yu Feichen accepted instruction humbly. Nobility relationships intertwined complexly. General Ashley was not only the empire’s general but his blood relative and elder. At crucial imperial succession moments, even if Landon was a scoundrel, showing even a hint of teachability would bias the general toward him.

“You’re a top-tier alpha. That alone can earn everyone’s trust. Provided you find your omega,” the general said.

Yu Feichen: “That’s difficult.”

“I know it’s difficult. But you must make everyone believe—you have five years, sufficient confidence and potential solving your mania. Never backslide like before. Especially—” the general’s blood pressure spiked: “especially don’t sever ties with Tan Per! If His Holiness learns what you did aboard ship, how will he view you? I’ve never seen someone so eager for a veto.”

Yu Feichen stared at the ceiling, feeling slight melancholy. He knew his predicament was far more complex than the general believed—hardly simple choice between Tan Per or throne.

Recalling eternal sleep flower scent following these days, he silently marked Tan Per down.

Then, expressionless, he instructed attendants: his continuous interrogation of Tan Per aimed solely to relieve the Pope’s burden. Now, confine Tan Per to my residence. Upon my return, interrogation continues.

The general coldly laughed, turning to leave: “Hope to see your interrogation results.”

Tan Per, though, was amused.

Not only unhelpful, he smiled carelessly, unconcerned. Yu Feichen watched expressionlessly, saying coldly: “Hope to see your characteristic values.”

Tan Per slowly blinked as if seriously considering.

Then the person simply closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair: “I’m triggered.”

—And even pretended.