After Nero returned to the Capital, he summoned the Minister of National Defense and Technology, the commissioners from each Star Province Committee, the Minister of the Imperial Department of Science, and the heads of the Royal Academy to organize a meeting. The goal was to begin a comprehensive optimization of the central intelligence system and to issue the first talent recruitment order for the Empire.
Unlike the noble recommendation system used during Rupert’s era, the recruitment order signed by the Emperor was delivered directly to the smart brain device of every adult civilian via the central intelligence system.
Smart brains had been widely used since the Old Federation period and had developed into the equivalent of identity verification for Imperial citizens. Any citizen born within the Empire and who had uploaded their personal information to the archives system could apply for a personal smart brain from the Imperial Population Management Bureau.
However, frequent wars in the later years of the Empire led to chaos in the application and destruction registration processes for personal smart brains.
Reorganizing the Empire’s current household registration status would be a meticulous and lengthy task. Nero, weighing the priorities, decisively postponed this administrative work until after the decisive battle with the Zerg.
This recruitment focused on military and technological talents. Once the self-recommendation and nomination channels were opened, the central intelligence system in the Capital could receive up to 200,000 valid applications in a single day.
Following Nero’s instructions, the system’s preliminary screening and intelligent assessments were conducted in an orderly manner.
In the Emperor’s plan, this large-scale recruitment would last for four months, aiming not only to provide the Empire with the urgently needed high-tech talents but also to label all applicants in the Empire’s archives according to their academic levels and areas of expertise, thereby initially establishing a readily available talent pool.
The Emperor’s first national decree after his return nearly exhausted the entire manpower of the Imperial Science Bureau and the Education Center, even dragging in old nobles who had been taking empty salaries for decades.
Although Nero was a pampered young prince, most of his growing years were spent in harsh exile accompanied by the Wolf Knights. This experience imparted a strong military style to his way of handling matters.
The Emperor emphasized mission completion and accountability, treating the highest administrative system of the Empire as if it were a military camp, requiring high efficiency and responsiveness.
Most of the current old noble officials in the Empire were remnants from Rupert’s era, surviving by their adaptability and sycophancy rather than their capabilities, which were mediocre at best.
The young tyrant’s increasingly decisive and swift actions were causing them great distress.
However, according to the Empire’s laws revised by the former Emperor Karagu, Imperial ministers retiring or fleeing without approval constituted severe dereliction of duty, punishable by the loss of title or confiscation of property.
Some old nobles, forced by circumstances, began recruiting capable young individuals from family or regional military academies, secretly granting them the title of ministerial secretaries to assist in handling their duties.
Surprisingly, the Emperor did not react angrily to the increasing administrative costs but instead graciously invited these young secretaries to banquets, listening kindly as the nobles praised and compared the abilities of their secretaries.
Even the historian who later wrote the Imperial Chronicles recorded with a hint of mockery:
“…At least in the initial period after the return of the Divine Emperor, becoming a minister in the Capital, with its rich rewards and honors, was no longer something to celebrate…
“The Divine Emperor himself possessed inexhaustible and terrifying energy, and he clearly believed that to maintain the normal operation of such a vast Galactic Empire, the Empire’s top administrative officials must effortlessly keep up with his pace…
“Thus, it gradually became a new trend among the Capital’s nobles to prepare highly skilled private physicians before responding to the summons to enter the Solar Palace…”
When the first few successful applicants who passed the highest-level assessments appeared, Nero once again convened the personnel responsible for the Asaga Experiment, ordering them to compile and publish a set of questions on breaking the Asimov collar based on the latest progress of the experiment.
These questions were also published on the homepage of the StarNet and major technology forums, making it the highest-reward scientific challenge across the Empire.
Regarding breaking the Asimov Collar, Nero had little faith in the Imperial Science Bureau, a legacy from the rebellious era.
After all, the Asimov Collar was developed by Hiram Augustus Kaises, the most militant emperor of the Kaises Family, during an era when military and technological advancements were exceptionally ahead of their time, making subsequent Emperors, who saw their power wane, appear somewhat lackluster.
Given the circumstances, entrusting the task of breaking the collar to the Empire’s civilians was a reluctant but necessary decision.
Despite his busy recruitment schedule, Nero did not linger long in the Solar Palace, as another Temple Festival was about to begin.
Due to the damage to his neural exoskeleton last time, Nero’s leg nerves had suffered additional injuries on top of old ones. The chief medical officer conducting his routine checkup gravely informed the Emperor that his condition was not optimistic.
“…In fact, the Empire’s nerve repair technology won’t remain stagnant forever…”
He cautiously worded, “Your Majesty, you can’t let your condition worsen faster than medical technology advances…”
Nero understood what he meant.
However, the Delphi Star System, controlled by the cardinals, temple priests, and their followers, was the place most indifferent to royal authority in the entire galaxy compared to noble territories that traditionally received royal favors.
As the true secular ruler with the scepter in hand, he would never allow them to glimpse any of the Emperor’s weaknesses.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
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Startled, the cardinals hurriedly stepped aside from the gangway.
A tall, majestic snow-white horse slowly descended from the gangway, adorned with ornate warhorse trappings, carrying its equally snowy-haired master.
The silver-haired Emperor sat atop the tall warhorse, holding the reins with one gloved hand, a faint smile playing on his lips.
The glaring sun kissed the young Emperor’s brows and hair, making it hard for the cardinals and followers, forced to look up at him, to keep their eyes open.
“The Empire is still at war, and I need to complete my prayers quickly and return to the Capital,” Nero said lightly. “This time, the pilgrimage will be executed solely by the Holy Son. Once I leave Delphi, the populace may resume their celebrations.”
With that, he extended his hand towards a cardinal, slightly bending his knuckles in the air as if the cardinal had kissed the rose ring.
Then, tightening the reins, the warhorse neighed proudly, its iron hooves clattering on the ground, and before the cardinals could react, it had already trotted steadily towards the Temple, followed closely by several dozen black warhorses.
From the port to the holy mountain, the pilgrimage route was cordoned off by shielding fields, creating a path for the procession.
However, instead of the lofty rose-embroidered pilgrimage ship, the crowd saw a magnificent youth in royal robes riding a snow-white horse.
Despite the shielding fields, the crowd was astounded, their hooded eyes fixated on the fleeting figure in red robes.
Most of the Temple rituals could be managed on horseback;
But the healing ceremony at the holy altar required the Holy Son’s presence, and horses could not enter.
Nero felt the White Wolf Knight’s hands, slick with oil and trembling slightly, moving slower, so he lifted the hem of his holy robe and pressed the White Wolf Knight’s fingers to the tailbone: “Enough, hurry.”
The noble knight’s code forbade a knight from defying their master.
Even as his young master let out an unbearable gasp during the re-implantation, the White Wolf Knight held Nero’s waist tightly, closing his eyes as he inserted a new neural exoskeleton into the unhealed wounds.
“…In the name of the crowned king of the Galactic Empire, I implore the holy light to shine upon the souls trapped in darkness…”
The lines, recited countless times, flowed smoothly from Nero’s lips despite the piercing pain, delivered with unwavering and elegant intonation.
Today, he had no energy to focus on the unseen oddities in the holy pool or the waiting Holy Son, intent only on completing the ritual swiftly.
As he reached the phrase, “devote yourself entirely to the great Delphic Holy Son,” he felt faint, unable to distinguish whether the wetness on him was from the holy water or his own sweat.
The Holy Son sat on the altar as usual.
But this time, the bandages over his eyes were removed.
Saint Louis’s eyes remained closed, his white eyelashes resting gently against his eyelids like snow at the peaks.
Yet, as Nero approached the altar in pain, the Holy Son’s brows furrowed slightly.
After attentively listening to the Emperor’s prayer, the Holy Son immediately began his work.
He spread his arms, his ancient, otherworldly song echoing throughout the Temple.
The water rippled, birds and beasts took flight, and an invisible psychic force swept over the entire Temple plaza.
The empire soldiers with damaged mental powers, scattered among the millions of stone caves above the altar, trembled, some falling backward.
When they managed to stand again, their depleted mental energy had been slowly restored, the shadows over their eyes lifted, revealing the beautiful Holy Son singing at the center of the altar and the silver-haired Emperor praying for them.
“…Blessed be the Holy Son and the King of the Galaxy…”
The healed soldiers immediately knelt with the Emperor, placing their right hands over their hearts and swearing in low voices amidst the holy song.
“Graced by Delphi’s divine favor and the glory of Kaises Family, we swear allegiance to our sovereign father through all generations, guarding the frigid frontiers of the Galactic Empire. With our blood as the shield of the Galactic Empire, with our souls as the light of the Galactic Empire…”
After an indeterminate amount of time, the hymn ceased, and the tumultuous sea of spirits calmed.
Nero, draped in his wet robe, maintained a silent prayerful pose, waiting for the ceremony to end.
In the fog of pain, hearing the song had stopped, he reached down to the ground, preparing to push himself up and leave.
But before his knee could lift from the stone steps, he suddenly felt a light touch on his shoulder.
Nero looked up, his vision filled with snow-like pure white hair.
Saint Louis had arrived before him, unnoticed.
He was slightly bowing his head, his eyes still closed.
His hair, reaching the ground, cascaded down towards Nero, even the tips resting on the Emperor’s shoulder and white robe.
The long hair, like a cage made of soft snow and ice silk, completely enveloped the young Emperor.
Nero frowned.
He couldn’t understand why this symbol of divine authority, which had survived in the holy Temple for a thousand years, repeatedly made gestures in his presence that went against the ritual.
He brushed off the Holy Son’s hand from his shoulder, and before the mechanical eye responsible for recording could fly to them, he warned in a low voice, “You better not…”
He didn’t finish his sentence.
—Because the Holy Son slowly opened his eyes.
At first, it was just a glint of gold, seeping through the snowy lashes.
It seemed to dim the surrounding scenery, compelling one’s gaze to focus on those eyes. Then, more brilliance leaked from the slowly parting lashes until those cold golden eyes were fully open, and a wave of intense disorientation hit Nero—
He felt as if he had suddenly returned to his childhood, once again looking up at the deities on the Temple’s stone pillars.
They overlooked the mortal world, unaware of its sorrows or joys.
Wars continued, lives perished, all swept into the fast-flowing river of time, passing beneath their gaze.
But the next second, the vision flashed violently, turning into an incomprehensible illusion.
He saw a tender young hand reaching into a pitch-black iron cage.
The cage was very large, with long and thick bars. The gaps between them were narrow, just wide enough for a child to barely fit an arm through.
(“…Why…”)
He heard the child’s immature voice but couldn’t make it out clearly.
The sound of chains clinked softly, someone approached from behind the bars.
(“…Who are you people?! Let me go!”)
Several figures in red robes, like ghostly shadows, instantly surrounded the child.
The child began to scream in terror.
(“Let me go—”)
Several pale tentacles shot out fiercely from the gaps in the bars!
Beautifully wrapped candies dropped onto the blood-red floor.
A small splash of blood bloomed.
System: “…Uh???”
Nero’s sanity value suddenly plummeted, startling the System so much it dropped its cyber controller.
But just as it prepared to sort out the brainwaves, it found that Nero hadn’t gone mad this time.
It quickly discarded the cyber game console and peeked out to see what was happening.
Just then, it saw the Holy Son cradling the young tyrant’s face, placing a kiss on his wet forehead.
For the first time, the System couldn’t keep up with the plot: […Uh?????]
It wasn’t the only one taken aback.
In the sanctuary, the healed imperial soldiers and their supervising medics witnessed the Holy Son bestowing a kiss on their Emperor’s forehead, even more surprising than the first time they came to the sanctuary for healing.
The Holy Son’s blessing kiss held an unspoken religious significance in the Delphi Star System:
It meant that the Holy Son recognized the person being blessed as pure in body and soul, noble in spirit, ensuring that they would receive the absolute protection of the Holy Son and the Delphi forces at all times in this life.
In the past, those who received the Holy Son’s kiss were mostly unblemished believers selected during Temple ceremonies, or those about to enter the priesthood, devout in body and mind. After receiving the kiss, they became high-ranking priests within the Temple, holding key positions in the Delphi Star System for life.
But to bestow a blessing kiss on a secular ruler who governed the entire Galactic Empire, especially one from the Kaises Family who ascended to the throne through bloody slaughter, was unprecedented since the establishment of the Delphi Temple—
The Emperor, quicker than the stunned people in the sanctuary, realized the political significance of this kiss.
He quietly waited for the Holy Son to leave him, and when he met those beautiful golden eyes again…
He was still somewhat dazed, but heard the Holy Son clumsily speak a few words in the Imperial language mixed with ancient tongue: “You… not hurt.”
The Holy Son gently pointed to himself and whispered, “Not hurt… I… help you.”
Nero was about to say something, but felt a slight hallucinatory sensation from the kissed spot.
It wasn’t an uncomfortable dizziness or disorientation.
Instead, it was like a warm surge of heat, flooding from the forehead into the body, spreading through the limbs, and then concentrating into the implant site at the tailbone and the severed Achilles tendon.
This sensation was extremely comfortable, like someone enduring extreme cold slowly soaking their limbs in warm water, even moving a fingertip felt lazy.
Nero had to use his fingertips to support himself on the ground to prevent himself from collapsing at the edge of the sanctuary.
His originally clear and alert red eyes gradually took on a layer of obscure mist.
Under the floating holy robe in the water, many invisible soft tentacles once again slowly probed from the bottom of the robe.
They gently wrapped around the young Emperor’s snow-white legs, and from the their heads, numerous soft small spines grew, gently massaging the wounded area.
Just as a comfortable sigh was about to escape his lips, Nero suddenly bit his tongue sharply.
He pushed off the ground with force and ‘whooshed’ to his feet.
The silver-haired Emperor stepped back down the steps, then touched his forehead with a hand, uttering the closing words of the ceremony: “May the Empire receive divine grace, enduring and everlasting.”
And he walked away without looking back.
As he re-immersed himself in the holy spring, he faintly heard behind him a very light sound of chains struggling.
Then, behind him returned to a void of silence.
…
QQ
Oh man I forgot the holy son had those chains on ‘0’ I wonder if we’ll ever get to know his name, or if he even has one? 🤔
Thank you for the chappiesss ❤️
I believe he is called Saint. Louis, it was mentioned when Nero held the first ritual
No noooo Holy Son 😭😭😭 I love him he’s a pure baby
Estou tão triste, ele está sofrendo muito 🤧
Is the holy son held captive?😯
What I´m getting is that the Holy Son didn´t want his position and is being forced
This novel is so mysterious, complicated, yet straight-forward and fascinating
Saint Louis the 5th ML let’s gooo
the holy son character i feel is a tragic one he can never leave and seemingly never die, not that they would allow him to anyways.