Federation Military Tribunal.
The Chief Judge received an urgent communication. After connecting, he spat out his tea directly, nearly falling from his chair, so frightened his tongue tied in knots.
“You you you say who came to receive punishment?!”
…
Three minutes later.
Tribunal hall.
Gong Du curiously looked around.
He wasn’t unfamiliar with the Military Tribunal. Quite a few of the Tribunal’s punishments were personally formulated by him. One could say he understood it very well.
The last time he came was several years ago—he didn’t remember too clearly. But this hall seemed renovated quite a bit.
The Chief Judge had previously served under Elansno, later transferring to the Tribunal. He’d also been specially trained by him before being thrown here. Calculating it this way, Elansno was not only his former superior but also counted as half his instructor.
Unlike his leisurely ease, the Chief Judge was suffering bitterly inside.
What kind of situation was this?
The death report for First Army’s Adjutant Kang Quan had just been submitted. The Admiral hadn’t given a definite word. Whether it was reward or punishment remained unclear. He’d been planning to ask, but the Admiral himself came over.
Not only that, but he’d also written himself a slip to come receive punishment…
Wasn’t this absurd?!
Even if something huge happened, in the entire Federation, aside from Emperor Rosh, who dared punish him? Besides, how would he not know if the Admiral had committed any offense?
Moreover…
The Chief Judge looked behind Elansno. The Admiral only brought a few guards this time.
From the First Army base to the Federation Military Tribunal, the distance wasn’t close, but definitely couldn’t be called near. He only brought this few people. If something happened here or on the way here, ten heads wouldn’t be enough for him to lose.
Chief Judge: “Admiral, please don’t tease me. Whatever the matter is, report it to His Majesty first. It’s not too late to decide after.”
He wiped his cold sweat: “By the way, whenever you’ve stayed here long enough, just tell me. I’ll assign more people to escort you back.”
Gong Du glanced at him. “Chief Judge, trying to drive me away?”
“I wouldn’t dare!” Chief Judge said, “You staying here overnight would be no problem!”
Perhaps too many frustrating matters these two years, the Chief Judge’s somewhat balding forehead even reflected light, rather pitiable.
Unfortunately, Gong Du was determined to receive punishment today.
Anything related to his script’s subsequent development, he absolutely wouldn’t let anyone interfere with.
He sat in a chair nearby, two fingers tapping the table, pressing down on that punishment slip. “Not driving me away, but not agreeing either. Does the Chief Judge have some dissatisfaction with me?”
A black gun holster hung at his waist, tightly bound by a belt, vaguely revealing the cold glint of a gun handle.
Elansno leaned forward slightly, smiling: “Or do you want me to beg you?”
*Thud!*
The Chief Judge’s legs went weak. He dropped straight to his knees, face pale with fright: “I wouldn’t dare!”
Damn it, let Elansno beg him? Once word got out, the First Army would blast his tiny tribunal to smithereens tomorrow morning.
Elansno pushed the slip over again: “Don’t worry. It’s nothing bloody or unsightly. It’s [Passing Void]—a mental punishment.”
The Chief Judge naturally didn’t dare make him hold that slip for long. Regardless of his inner thoughts, he hurriedly accepted it first.
Earlier he hadn’t dared pay much attention. Now looking at it, it indeed was [Passing Void].
The Military Tribunal’s punishments were broadly divided into two types. One was physical punishment—countless strange varieties. The other didn’t harm the body but more easily caused people to collapse. It was mental punishment.
The so-called [Passing Void], though the name sounded very romantic, was actually one of the punishments most likely to make people collapse and lose themselves.
After entering the pod chamber, a person would instantly fall into sleep. Simultaneously, the time flow speed in the dream would be far slower than reality.
Equivalent to a person’s consciousness remaining awake, staying for decades in boundless dark emptiness. A person’s spirit would silently collapse, go mad, yet unable to move.
Of course, for those with powerful mental consciousness, this wasn’t particularly difficult to endure.
Elansno: “Well?”
“This…” The Chief Judge looked at the time ratio on the back.
Execution time 24 hours = Passing Void one hundred years.
“Isn’t the time a bit too long?”
Even if the Admiral was an S-level mental power evolver, there’d definitely be certain risks. This was punishment, not child’s play. Though it was indeed a thousand times better-looking than those bloody scenes.
The Chief Judge said with difficulty: “Moreover, I don’t even know what offense you’ve committed now. Rash punishment doesn’t conform to regulations.”
“You just approve it. After approval, I’ll report the situation to His Majesty. Don’t worry. Once His Majesty knows, the punishment will only be heavier than what I gave myself. So you’re actually doing me a favor.”
“…Alright.” The Chief Judge gritted his teeth. “I’ll approve it for you. I’ll personally escort you.”
Gong Du smiled faintly.
The entire subsequent process took less than three minutes before he was already lying in the pod.
Chip attached to his temple, Gong Du closed his eyes. The pod slowly sealed.
Time flow infinitely slowed.
…
Soul sea.
Gong Du transformed into a black orb flying over, nuzzling the small light orb: “Get some seeds.”
Small light orb: “…”
Passing Void only created the illusion of time slowing in the human brain. Gong Du’s consciousness sea time flow was still very normal.
One day’s time—watching Lan Xia’s side while cracking some seeds—passed beautifully.
“Seeds can be energized. What about other snacks?”
Gong Du thought for a moment, energizing a sofa, soft pillows, a coffee table, steaming tea and snacks, piles of treats.
Finally, he also energized a trash can.
Though everything was false energy entities, he couldn’t quite get past the mental hurdle of throwing garbage into his own brain.
Small light orb struggled to refuse: “…I don’t eat other human food. That’s degradation.”
Gong Du smiled.
Half a day later.
One black and one blue fluffy orb nested in the sofa pillows. Snack bags rustled. The trash can in front piled up with quite a bit.
Gong Du: “Tasty?”
Small light orb shyly: “…Mm.”
Gong Du was satisfied, setting about filling in the script’s finer details.
——
Strolling through the endless river of time, every step walked on memory’s ruins.
Those few clear-minded people who’d experienced it said that when experiencing Passing Void, one would walk through memories they’d lived.
From age 24 in the present, walking backward.
Elansno surveyed the surroundings. Pitch black. Yet looking down, his feet stepped on a thin layer of glass. Below were gunsmoke, war fires, people he’d killed.
Every face—strange and familiar, resentful and cursing, reluctant and relieved…all seemed traceable in his impression.
Those were every war he’d participated in.
Like a reversed mirror. The dead reached up from below, wanting to drag him down.
Elansno could see his own reflection clearly but couldn’t see his own face, because in the reflection, he still wore a mask.
He wanted to remove it to see his own appearance. But the moment this thought surfaced, severe pain transmitted through his brain. After recovering, he’d forgotten this matter.
So he continued walking forward.
20 years old. 18 years old. 16 years old…
Elansno’s form gradually became thinner, finally transforming into a youth’s figure.
He looked down.
At 14 years old, he received the supreme Molo Victory Sword from His Majesty’s hands, turned and swung the sword downward, cold and sharp:
“All who trample the Federation’s glory, kill!”
So immature.
Elansno thought.
Actually, at that time, he remembered he was very afraid. He’d never killed anyone, yet was pushed out to command so many soldiers, becoming the sharpest blade, cleaving through enemy army charges.
Just standing on the high platform, the wind blew with bone-piercing cold. That’s why no one discovered his fingers were trembling. Of course, he couldn’t let anyone discover either.
Elansno looked back. It seemed from that sentence onward, for the next ten years, every step was bones and blood abyss.
Then…before that?
Before age fourteen?
Elansno walked forward a few steps, discovering he’d reached the end.
Ahead was a cliff.
Jagged and ugly like a centipede with bared fangs and waving claws, stretching across the mirror surface.
Below the cliff was pitch black. The other end of the cliff was shrouded in grayish-white mist. Elansno couldn’t see clearly.
He wanted to see what lay behind the mist.
Elansno closed his eyes, falling backwards into the abyss below the cliff.
During the execution, the alarm monitoring the prisoner’s mental fluctuations in the pod trembled extremely slowly, then began climbing toward the alert threshold at a terrifyingly rapid pace.
…
“First Army Admiral Elansno’s new adjutant, Nie Liang, requests to see the Chief Judge.” The First Army’s warship stopped outside the Tribunal.
The Chief Judge hurried out to greet him, hesitating: “You are…?”
“Nie Liang.” The man standing at the door smiled faintly. “I went to report to the First Army only to learn the Admiral was at the Tribunal. Fearing the Admiral might have had an accident, I brought people to receive him.”
Just as he said, he wasn’t even wearing First Army uniform but ordinary clothing.
Nie Liang appeared to be in his twenties. He wore a slim-fitting light gray vest over his undershirt, two strands of hair hanging on his forehead. On both sides of his black temples were several strands of silver-gray hair, all neatly bound behind his head.
Lips curved in a smile, refined and elegant.
Nie Liang: “This is the appointment letter.”
The Chief Judge dubiously accepted it, examining it carefully. It was indeed a proper appointment letter. After seeing Nie Liang’s previous identity, he paused. “You transferred from the Imperial Capital?”
And from the Imperial Capital’s Administrative Office, his original identity a Level 4 Administrative Chief. The position wasn’t lower than adjutant. Moreover, transferring from the Imperial Capital center—strictly speaking, could be considered a demotion.
Was he here to burnish his credentials?
The Chief Judge’s mind turned seventy or eighty corners, but his face showed nothing as he returned the appointment letter, smiling: “This naturally can’t be fake. Besides, First Army warships are behind you. If you weren’t the new adjutant, you couldn’t command them.”
Nie Liang smiled faintly.
Chief Judge: “The Admiral’s punishment hasn’t ended yet, but it’s almost done. You can wait a moment. Please follow me.”
“Alright.”
Nie Liang only brought a few people inside, giving the Tribunal plenty of face.
The Chief Judge sighed that people from the Imperial Capital were indeed different from those military ruffians.
Polite.
The Tribunal’s layout design, to prevent prisoners from escaping, was overall rather complex. Yet Nie Liang, walking alongside, seemed even more familiar with the routes than the Chief Judge.
After watching a while, the Chief Judge couldn’t help asking: “Have you been here before?”
“Oh,” Nie Liang replied. “Because I didn’t understand the structure here and feared I couldn’t find the Admiral, on the way, I had a friend get me a terrain map of this place. I quickly memorized it.”
He smiled, adding: “If I may say, your database defense system here is somewhat outdated.”
Chief Judge: “…”
You son of a…!
He retracted his earlier praise of this newly appointed adjutant’s politeness.
‘Had a friend get one’? ‘Outdated’? Invading the Tribunal’s database spoken so grandiosely. Truly worthy of someone from the Administrative Office.
Outlaw!
Yet he couldn’t do anything about it. After all, the man hadn’t explicitly mentioned invading the database.
The Chief Judge was fuming when a soldier hurried toward them, anxiously saying: “Report! Something’s wrong with the Admiral’s execution pod!”
The Chief Judge’s hand trembled: “What did you say?!”
The atmospheric pressure beside him instantly dropped. The Chief Judge turned his head, discovering that Nie Liang, who’d been smiling just moments ago, had completely gone cold-faced, striding toward the execution area.
The Chief Judge hurried to follow.
…
The execution area was in chaos.
Sharp alarm sounds beeped continuously, red lights flashing.
The alarm was set up to prevent prisoners from losing themselves in the slow time flow, becoming mentally collapsed lunatics from whom useful information couldn’t be extracted.
So once the alarm sounded, execution would pause. After the prisoner regained consciousness, other punishments would proceed.
The pod executing [Passing Void] still hadn’t opened.
“Why isn’t it open yet?!” the Chief Judge roared.
So many First Army warships still parked outside. If something really happened, could they afford the compensation?!
He regretted it bitterly. Had he known, he shouldn’t have yielded to the Admiral’s threats and approved that punishment slip.
“The—the Admiral’s mental power is too strong. He seems to be resisting our opening it. With the two forces clashing, the pod… sealed shut…” The person in charge was obviously quite frightened.
“Sealed shut?” Nie Liang said.
Chief Judge: “Adjutant Nie Liang, don’t worry. I’ll immediately—”
A pitch-black short dagger stabbed viciously into the pod’s crack.
This dagger nearly flew past his bald head.
The Chief Judge’s voice cut off abruptly. He turned his head in terror. Behind him, the newly appointed adjutant was extremely calm, fingertips holding a flying blade.
“One minute.”
“Open the pod.”
…
Gong Du slowly opened his eyes in the pod.
The overhead light was blocked completely by a group of people surrounding him.
“Admiral, do you feel unwell anywhere?”
This voice was extremely unfamiliar.
Gong Du’s gaze shifted slightly. An extremely refined-looking face came into view.
Gong Du: “…”
Who’s this?
Small light orb: “…Your newly appointed adjutant, Nie Liang.”
Oh.
Gong Du finally perked up a bit.
This guy…
However, his complete lack of response frightened the anxiously checking people badly.
Nie Liang frowned.
The Chief Judge quickly explained: “…People who’ve experienced Passing Void generally have somewhat dulled five senses when they emerge. The Admiral set the time as one hundred years. Though disconnected, it was still around ninety years. This should be a normal reaction.”
Nie Liang: “Should be?”
“…Almost.” Elansno said quietly.
The Chief Judge hurriedly asked: “Admiral, what did you say?”
Almost. He’d almost been able to climb from the abyss below to the opposite shore of age fourteen.
Elansno half-closed his eyes, slowly sitting up and supporting his head. In a low voice, he said: “Everyone out.”
Seeing him awaken, Nie Liang lowered his head: “Yes.”
He pulled the hesitant Chief Judge along, and the group filed out in a rush.
The execution area, destroyed beyond recognition, was pervaded by the acrid smell of burnt cables.
Elansno connected to Emperor Rosh’s communication.
He had direct communication privileges with His Majesty.
Soon, Emperor Rosh’s broad figure appeared before him. Seeing Elansno’s weak, powerless state, he was somewhat astonished: “Elans, what happened to you?”
Elansno descended from the pod, nearly falling to the ground. He barely managed to stay upright: “…Just finished receiving punishment. I’ve come to apologize to you.”
News of the munitions and experimental equipment losses had been forcefully suppressed by him. Currently, aside from Kane knowing about the munitions loss, no one yet knew about the experimental equipment.
Emperor Rosh sat upright, frowning: “Nonsense. Does the Military Chief Judge not want his head anymore? Making such a major decision privately! Elans, what did you do wrong? Why didn’t you tell me in advance?”
“…The munitions you had the First Army escort were sixty percent lost in the chaotic magnetic zone. The experimental equipment is also lost.” Elansno answered, half a beat slow.
Emperor Rosh fell silent.
For an instant he was almost furious, yet like an illusion, he suppressed it.
“Really lost?”
“Yes.”
“You lost them?”
“…Yes.”
“How? With your ability, this shouldn’t happen. Was there a traitor?”
Answers grew slower and slower.
“…No,” Elansno’s ear canals faintly seeped blood. Gritting his teeth, he barely answered: “It was Elans’s carelessness… The Northwest Sector has a new S-level evolver.”
Emperor Rosh was quiet for a while. “I’ve heard. Those people in the Northwest Sector are all looking for him. So you crossed swords with him.”
His fingers unconsciously rubbed together. After a moment, he revealed a generous smile: “But it’s merely a lost batch of experimental equipment. Elans, you needn’t punish yourself like this.”
“You are the Empire’s blade. Nothing can replace your value. If you were injured merely for a batch of experimental equipment, it would be too unworthy.”
Elansno didn’t relax: “Your Majesty is too kind.”
“Your former adjutant died?”
“Yes, an accident.”
Emperor Rosh nodded, not overly concerned: “However, since you’ve already been punished, I won’t punish you further. Let this matter pass. But regarding that Northwest Sector S-level evolver…”
[“Your name.”
“Just this?”
“Just this.”
“Lan Xia.”]
Lan Xia…
Elansno’s lashes trembled slightly. He lowered his head: “I will kill him.”
“First investigate thoroughly. What force is behind him? Name, personality, whether he has anything he cares about,” Emperor Rosh said. “Last time, Wright handled things very well. Without any effort, he killed Suto’s old leader.”
“You should learn from him. Understand?”
Elansno: “Understood.”
Emperor Rosh spoke many more intimate words before disconnecting the communication with utmost concern.
Elansno instantly relaxed. His vision blurred, lips pale. He couldn’t stand for a long while.
——
Imperial Capital.
Palace.
Emperor Rosh told Director Pei what had just occurred.
“Elansno has never made such a major error before. Now that batch of experimental equipment is gone. Even rushing to manufacture more will cause delays. The C9 Sector plan will likewise be postponed.”
Director Pei: “No one expected the Northwest Sector could produce another S-level evolver. This person must be properly eliminated.”
He pondered for a moment: “You can use Elansno with confidence. After the second memory erasure, the human brain cannot possibly recall. No one can endure that kind of pain. He’s completely disconnected from ten years ago. Including going to the Tribunal to receive punishment… it’s possibly fear derived from absolute obedience to you.”
“In this situation, he’ll never lie to you. You can rest assured.”
Emperor Rosh: “The chip in his brain?”
Director Pei: “I’m monitoring in real time. Very stable.”
The subtle, indescribable sense of dissonance in Emperor Rosh’s heart finally faded.
“But the experimental equipment is still destroyed. It’s fallen into the Northwest Sector’s hands—we can’t retrieve it. The seedbed isn’t sufficient.” Director Pei said.
Emperor Rosh thought for a moment, brow slightly furrowed. After a long while:
“Find an opportunity to reopen the Hall of Divine Mercy.”
——
Gong Du sat on the warship returning to First Army base.
He had some tinnitus.
His perception was also duller than usual.
The Chief Judge said this was aftermath from the punishment. It would be fine in a few days.
In the small world, everything that happened had to conform to logic. Gong Du enjoyed the small light orb’s pain-free service.
His insistence on coming to actively receive punishment this time wasn’t masochistic but rather to give Elansno a reason to gradually restore his memories.
Elansno had experienced two memory erasures. His life had become fragmented, all of the past ruthlessly erased. Aside from subconscious instinctive reactions remaining, he was no different from a puppet with emotions.
What could make a ‘puppet’ slowly awaken?
A button that shouldn’t have been discarded? A line of erroneous code? A ruined cake?
All of Gong Du’s scripts, including character changes, must fit logic to be recognized by the world line.
And undoubtedly, Elansno had endured Passing Void. In nearly a hundred years of time, lonely yet stubbornly wanting to climb to the opposite shore of his memory gap—
This would become a clasp, recorded by the world line, perfectly clicking into place with the closed logic of ‘Elansno gradually recovering memories.’
Some scripts he performed for others to see, while others were to complete the world line.
Delightful.
Gong Du narrowed his eyes.
Only after a moment did he spare some attention for this newly arrived adjutant.
Elansno: “Nie Liang?”
Nie Liang: “Admiral.”
Elansno didn’t hear very clearly, but could discern the other’s lip movements. He leaned back slightly in his chair, tone revealing neither pleasure nor anger: “Coming to work for me—you’re overqualified.”
Nie Liang was from the Imperial Capital’s Administrative Office, a Level 4 Administrative Chief who held real power. Throughout the entire Federation, everyone knew the First Army and the Administrative Office were extremely at odds.
The Administrative Office’s open and covert notices cursing Elansno numbered in the thousands, if not tens of thousands.
Nie Liang: “During the original adjutant selection, I ranked first. But you chose Kang Quan as your adjutant.”
Elansno seemed mildly interested: “You were first in that cohort? How old are you this year?”
Nie Liang: “22 years old.”
“You participated in the selection through exceptional circumstances, right? Kang Quan was two years older than me. Six years ago when he came to my side—calculating it, when you participated in the selection, you were only sixteen. No wonder.”
A sixteen-year-old child—even if he ranked first, couldn’t take care of himself. Who could trust he’d make a good adjutant?
Nie Liang was silent for a moment: “When you picked up your sword, you were even younger than I was then.”
Elansno paused, studying him briefly: “I feel like you look somewhat familiar.”
Nie Liang smiled: “Human facial features all have similarities. Rest assured, I came voluntarily. Three-month probation period—if you’re dissatisfied, replace me at will.”
“Alright,” Elansno felt somewhat drowsy. “Take over Kang Quan’s affairs. Familiarize yourself as soon as possible.”
Nie Liang paused: “Earlier the Chief Judge asked me—regarding Adjutant Kang Quan, punish or reward?”
The fingers pressing his temple stopped. Elansno said flatly: “Neither punish nor reward. Only leave a tomb. Besides that, erase all his traces. I don’t want to hear any news about him from before either.”
This disposition was somewhat strange. Like extreme loathing, yet the information he’d heard suggested Kang Quan had clearly earned the Admiral’s trust.
Nie Liang didn’t voice his doubts, merely nodded. After relaying the original words to the Chief Judge, he lowered his head and departed.
…
Near the First Army base.
Nie Liang opened his backup light brain. The private messages had exploded.
The corners of his mouth curved slightly upward.
It seemed news of his becoming Elansno’s adjutant had spread. That Lan Zhouhe fellow had presumably also learned of it.
Sure enough.
[Blue R]: You told me you left the Imperial Capital, you didn’t say you went to Elansno’s side?!
[Blue R]: What are you trying to do? Chasing your idol finally got you to the real deal? Don’t forget about your mercenary group’s deal with the Northwest Sector.
[Blue R]: How did I go so blind as to cooperate with you, brain abnormal &*…&…%¥
Nie Liang was accustomed to this.
Lan Zhouhe was cautious, but not from any proper background. Accustomed to roughness, his profanity consisted entirely of censored words.
Messages kept popping up. Nie Liang moved his fingers.
[Silver Crow]: If there’s business, state it.
Lan Zhouhe took a deep breath.
Mercenaries were a very special group in the Northwest Sector—no organization, only rankings. Anyone could become a mercenary. The sole ranking standard was based on mission completion numbers and success rates.
Not all mercenaries were anti-Federation elements. Many mercenary identities were very mysterious. However, more were madmen who feared nothing but chaos, each acting independently.
Currently ranked first among mercenaries was this individual code-named [Silver Crow].
Silver Crow—Elansno’s self-proclaimed number one fanatic, the Northwest Sector’s famous killing mad bird. Yet this guy was extremely hateful toward the Federation, having assassinated countless Federation important figures.
On one hand ‘Federation go die,’ on the other ‘Admiral hug hug.’
Beneath a refined, calm exterior lurked a split-personality patient.
Cooperating with Silver Crow, his organization had taken huge risks.
[Blue R]: Your going to Elansno’s side as adjutant is fine. There’s something that still requires your cooperation in investigating.
[Silver Crow]: Usual terms.
[Blue R]: …The Elansno photos I’ve saved here have been emptied out by you.
Lan Zhouhe was somewhat collapsed. Which anti-Federation element like him saved various interview videos and photos of enemies, sometimes even had to cut out those photos!
Nie Liang unhesitatingly wanted to log off.
[Blue R]: Don’t leave yet. This investigation relates to Elansno. Otherwise I wouldn’t easily contact you.
Nie Liang’s finger paused.
[Blue R]: I found a photo and an audio clip. Sent to your mailbox. When you have time, look at them, then come find me.
Nie Liang frowned slightly, but still replied: [Alright.]
**
Sam Williams On TYMIMA Chapter 152
Hmm
Exciting. So this guy is a elansno fanboy!!!