His gaze remained as deep as the sea, but beneath that calm surface, there seemed to be an indescribable undercurrent stirring.
It was not the look of a Marshal toward a subordinate, but more like that of a father gazing at a son who had suddenly grown to a point that filled him with pride, yet also with a hint of unfamiliarity.
He spoke, his voice not loud, but carrying a force that pierced through the clamor and reached straight into the heart, clearly reaching Qin Bei Wang's ears.
"Glory and responsibility coexist, all for the Federation!"
"No graves in the starry sea, all for the Federation!"
Qin Bei Wang saluted with a standard military salute, then calmly replied.
Qin Qianfan nodded before turning and leaving.
This indifferent demeanor was no different from the Grand Marshal in the original memory.
Next came the medal conferment for Zhuang ZhiXuan and the others.
Zhuang ZhiXuan was directly promoted from Captain to Lieutenant Commander and awarded a Stellar Ring Medal, which carried no material reward—only an honor.
The others were also promoted one rank and received a Stellar Ring Medal each.
The medal conferment was also overseen by the General.
Meanwhile, in a distant star domain.
In the private combat operations room of Imperial Admiral Strauss at the Opal Starfield Theater Command.
The massive circular screen did not display the Empire's Star Chart or Fleet Deployment but had been discreetly switched by a technical officer to the live broadcast signal of the Federation's Medal Awarding Ceremony.
On the screen, the Planetary Medal on Qin Bei Wang's chest and the Senior Colonel star insignia on his shoulder gleamed with a piercing light, while the roaring cheers from the square seemed to penetrate the screen.
Strauss sat in his spacious Command Chair, his fingers gripping the alloy armrests tightly, his knuckles white.
His face was grim, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deepened like knife cuts by suppressed fury.
That impossibly young face on the screen was like a poisonous thorn, stabbing fiercely into his eyeballs and, even more so, into his pillar of shame.
Savannah.
That damned star system, that campaign that should have been a crushing victory, had instead become the stepping stone for this Federation whelp to rise to fame!
Obsidian, Bloodblade, and Iron Curtain suffered setbacks one after another, Langkawi Base was destroyed, and even the entire Megalodon Fleet was annihilated...
This series of resounding slaps, though most of the blame was pinned on that unlucky fool Lancaster and the Megalodon Commander.
But as the highest-ranking officer in the entire Opal Star Sector, how could Strauss completely escape responsibility?
The old foxes in the Supreme Command said nothing openly, but he could feel their private mockery and the look of amusement in their eyes!
There were even whispers of a malicious nickname like "Fuel-Adding General" circulating—implying that he kept sending fleets to Savannah, as if "adding fuel to the fire" of Qin Bei Wang's achievements!
Utter humiliation!
"Twenty-two years old... Senior Colonel... Planetary Medal... mother-class fleet..."
Strauss spat out these words through gritted teeth, each one dripping with icy hatred.
"Climbing so fast, stepping on the corpses of my Imperial soldiers, Qin Bei Wang."
He stared fixedly at the screen, watching the scene of Qin Bei Wang and his father Qin Qianfan locking eyes, observing the Planetary Medal being solemnly pinned in place, his lips twisting into a distorted, icy smirk.
"Laugh."
"Enjoy your moment of glory to the fullest, little hero of the Federation."
Strauss's voice was low and hoarse, like a viper hissing.
"It won't be long..."
He leaned forward slightly, a terrifying cold light erupting in his eyes, mingled with the vengeful pleasure and the cruelty of the impending storm.
"...before you learn what it truly means to be targeted by the Empire."
"You think Savannah was the end?"
"No, that was just the appetizer."
He slammed the armrest and stood up, addressing the empty war room—or perhaps the radiant young man on the screen—with a low roar.
"The Empire's new round of offensive is ready."
One week later.
The brilliance and clamor of the Capital Star were left behind like a fleeting, illusory dream.
Qin Bei Wang and his officers boarded a dedicated interstellar shuttlecraft, embarking on the long journey back to the frontline garrison in the Ten Stone Starfield.
Over the past week, under the enthusiastic (or rather, forceful) arrangements of Luo Hao and his clique, the "Capital Twelve Young Masters," Qin Bei Wang had experienced nearly all the luxurious entertainments the Federation's core planet could offer to the top tier.
From private space observation decks requiring special permits, to full-sensory experience pavilions simulating extreme environments of different planets, to top-tier banquets featuring delicacies from across the Galaxy...
He perfectly played the role of a young commander returning victorious, entitled to indulge and enjoy—even more "immersed" than his original self in memory.
During this time, he had attempted several times, through formal and informal channels, to contact his father, Qin Qianfan.
After that brief, weighty conversation at the Medal Awarding Ceremony.
He felt he perhaps should, and needed to, have a more private meeting with this Marshal father who was both familiar and a stranger.
But every request was politely declined by the Marshal's adjutant, whose expression was always proper and tone ever respectful, with nearly identical reasons each time.
"Your Excellency Marshal is extremely occupied with military affairs and truly cannot spare the time. Please understand."
Qin Bei Wang understood.
A Federation Marshal, overseeing the defense of vast star sectors and the fates of countless fleets—his level of busyness was unimaginable.
Though the Savannah Campaign had ended, the Empire's threat was ever-present, and higher-level strategic games were unfolding every moment.
That brief appearance and message at the Medal Awarding Ceremony might have been all this father could squeeze out between public duty and private life.
He suppressed the faint, indescribable emotion—whether disappointment or relief—within himself.
Perhaps this was for the better, reducing the risk of exposure through close contact.
The shuttlecraft carried out one tedious, precise warp after another along its predetermined course.
Outside the window, the starscape continuously twisted and restored itself; inside the cabin, the engine hummed with a constant, low drone.
Prolonged exposure to the slight spacetime dislocation sensation induced by warping left even Qin Bei Wang, with his enhanced physique, feeling deeply fatigued mentally.
It wasn't merely physical exhaustion but more the cumulative toll of intense combat, the tense medal conferment, and navigating the Capital Star's complex social dynamics over the past period.
Finally, the shuttlecraft emerged from its last warp, captured by the familiar gravitational field of Shiva Star.
Shiva Star had an atmosphere entirely different from that of Capital Star. The spaceport here was more militarized, with starships coming and going with clear purpose. The sky was less cluttered with flashy aircraft and GG projections, replaced instead by patrolling fighter aircraft formations.
The transport ship docked smoothly at the officer-designated berth.
There were no welcoming crowds, no media.
Only the cold lights of the port and routine ground crew.
Qin Bei Wang bid a brief farewell to his fellow officers, each returning to their respective garrisons or barracks.
--Enjoying the story? Want more chapters? Check out my Patreon and support me for 40+ advance chapters.
Just search for "LegendaryTL" on Patreon!"
Thanks!