Chapter 108#
Distant Star Reflection 16#
These materials were compiled by Bai Song. Rather than sending via monitored cathedral networks, they directly handed him a storage chip.
A technologically advanced civilization could lack an emperor, naturally could lack a pope. Yet it required abundant materials and endless energy sources—countless planets in the universe served as this world’s materials and energy. Ownership of vast star systems was nobility and lords’ most precious property.
This world’s stars divided into three types: newstars, earthstars, and deathstars. Newstars burned themselves, perpetually radiating light and heat—humanity’s greatest energy source. Upon fuel exhaustion, they dimmed and cooled, becoming ordinary earthstars where people lived and survived. Certain earthstars contained rare minerals and resources.
When an earthstar’s lifespan ended, it collapsed and disintegrated into a place swallowing light, where starships entered but never exited—a “deathstar.” Called deathstars.
These three phase transformations took immensely long, yet civilizations needed earthstars—the more the better. Finally, while the cathedral researched maximizing newstar energy use and avoiding deathstar zones, they glimpsed another corner of truth, inventing artificial stars called “mirror stars.”
Releasing a mirror star between a newstar and deathstar, the newstar’s energy continuously flowed toward the deathstar’s devouring darkness—as if the deathstar saw its own reflection through this mirror.
The deity listening asked: “Folding?”
“Roughly,” Yu Feichen said.
Subsequently, newstars burned at hundred-fold accelerated speed, transforming into earthstars within mere years. Star after star dimmed, creating countless earthstars for people to excavate and inhabit. Commemorating this achievement, the cathedral established the day of the first newstar’s extinction as “Extinguish Star Festival.” Each year, the cathedral simultaneously deployed mirror stars toward this year’s designated newstars. People could observe newstars darkening that instant, while mirror stars blazed brilliant light celebrating truth’s victory again—power sufficient conquering eternally brilliant stars.
Previously, mirror star technology remained immature. The cathedral extinguished at most ten newstars yearly. But this year, breakthrough technology appeared. The pope planned extinguishing three hundred newstars simultaneously.
After hearing, the deity flatly said: “They’ll rapidly exhaust existing newstars.”
Yu Feichen agreed, though that remained distant future. He contemplated another matter.
The cathedral controlled rapid earthstar creation means, equivalent to excavating a priceless gold mine—power held exclusively. What nobility and lords wouldn’t wish territorial expansion? Who wouldn’t want these newborn earthstars?
These three hundred simultaneously-extinguished earthstars were the cathedral’s bait. It grandiosely declared its current power to all.
Thus the cathedral could—trading new earthstar exploration for agreements, demanding nobles surrender certain things.
He adopted the role of an ambitious pope, finding a group of self-governing nobles truly troublesome. With such a killing card, even without forcing nobility surrendering star systems’ governance, he could use subtle methods, gradually hollowing them into merely name-only powerless owners receiving only benefits.
And nobles had no choice but yielding. Once refusing while others accepted, their star system’s power rapidly weakened absolutely. Thus all systems became cathedral property. Once yielding happened once, endless times followed.
Their only defense method was complete refusal, yet unlikely—someone would inevitably succumb to temptation.
Yet the pope wouldn’t simply wait. The pope must fan flames, simultaneously courting some nobles while cultivating compliant emperors, suppressing opposers.
In summary, hidden currents absolutely roiled the capital, danger everywhere. Historical inflection points might even emerge.
He voiced his hypothesis: “Once this occurs, overthrowing the cathedral becomes difficult. I need revising plans.”
“Murphy said correctly,” the deity said, “you possess dictatorial tendencies.”
Yu Feichen believed Murphy’s actual words were a hundred times harsher than the deity’s translation—that ugly painter.
He said: “Yet you also acknowledge what I said correct—the pope would scheme thus.”
The deity barely perceptibly nodded.
Yu Feichen: “Other opinions?”
The question felt odd after speaking. He seemed easily predicting what the deity intended—exclusively. Moreover, he felt confident.
“Yes, toward your final statement,” the deity said.
“Those wielding divine authority residing above,” they said, “wishing lasting supremacy, must never touch secular power.”
Yu Feichen thought: you’re one wielding divine authority residing above.
After internal mockery, reconsidering, the statement proved very correct. When the cathedral decided seizing secular power, it already lowered its status, arriving at unfamiliar battlegrounds where enemies excelled.
He: “You’re teaching me?”
“No,” the deity smiled, “watch several more days—you’ll also understand.”
Yu Feichen: “Yet if they don’t seize more secular power consolidating their rule, eventually someone discovers their rule is a… hollow tower surrounded by secret language, then overthrows them.”
The person’s speaking style had contaminated his phrasing.
The deity said: “That’s because they’re fundamentally wrong.”
Yu Feichen curved his lips.
The deity, noticing his expression altered, seemed unlike serious contemplation: “What are you thinking?”
“Nothing,” Yu Feichen opened another file, “Tan Per’s secret language dictionary. Bai Song found it. Otherwise I’d have you transcribing one.”
——Locked away transcribing for a year, probably could reproduce it. The deity’s subtle expression hearing this made Yu Feichen deeply pleased.
After raising Bai Song several days, finally value-producing time arrived. Yu Feichen somewhat understood why the supreme deity accumulated so many believers. These days isolated externally, yet Bai Song diligently working prevented mishaps.
The pope’s rule was a hollow tower surrounded by secret language. This dictionary was the killing blow destroying it. Yet Tan Per wielded it poorly—too pure for them, always treating its publication as final dream rather than means.
Yu Feichen foresaw this dictionary’s cathedral damage, yet wouldn’t use it now. Starting the first fire proved useless. Withdrawing the final card made the hollow tower completely collapse. He pursued aesthetics in actions, never wasting effort—completely unlike Murphy’s ugly paintings.
Before then, he needed reviewing more materials, meeting decayed feudal nobles, observing actual developments. Then deciding whether Windsor or the third son became emperor. Power restrictions proved intricately complex; the emperor’s position mattered crucially.
Another crucial matter: Tan Per’s trial.
Yu Feichen: “Trial materials—prepare yourself.”
Later glancing back, the deity had already returned between bed and pillows.
They’d endured too much folly these days. Two-day material delays mattered little. Yu Feichen’s gaze returned to the screen showing trial materials already opened. Both jobs proceeded smoothly, especially after the deity’s insights, completely revising his cathedral opposition scheme, appearing increasingly feasible.
He immersed himself, only slightly relaxing finishing. Night had deepened, the deity seemingly asleep. He deactivated devices, cleaned up, then lay on opposite bed sides, planning sleep. Previously on single beds, Anphiel slept in his embrace. This bed proved spacious—each lying properly separate.
Yet didn’t sleep.
Initially contemplating cathedrals, later matters concerning a certain deity.
Darkness revealed only their silhouette. He approached, rising to observe. He believed himself wishing belief in them, yet lacked piety.
After watching long, he extended hand, touching a strand of golden hair. Eternal sleep flower scent had spread imperceptibly through the night darkness.