Chapter 84 – The Empire’s Hope

The Federation suffered a significant loss at the hands of Xi Ming.

Although the Federation had long promoted the ideals of sacrifice, bravery in war, and loyalty to the Federation, it was clear that the pampered elites in high positions had no real intention of sacrificing themselves. One after another, they had their families offer valuable resources in exchange for their safe return.

“Boss, why did you let those Federation officers go? You should’ve killed them all so the Federation would be left without any battlefield commanders. That would’ve made it easier to wipe them out,” someone tried to curry favor with Xi Ming, his tone sycophantic. “Some of those captives were actually quite capable—they say they were rising stars. If we’d killed them, the Federation would be devastated.”

Others quickly joined in to praise Xi Ming: “Tch, what do you know? No matter how capable a commander is, they’re no match for our boss. He’s the pillar of the Empire! If the Empire hadn’t been blind and betrayed him, we’d be steamrolling the Federation by now.”

And truthfully, that was how many of them felt.

Xi Ming’s strength was undeniable. Back in the Empire, he had suppressed both the Federation and the space pirates so thoroughly that neither dared to act out. But once he was gone, the Empire lost over half its territory to the Federation’s assault. Some of the very space pirates he once beat into submission were now loyal subordinates, and they truly respected his ability—following Xi Ming felt like going from hell to heaven.

Besides those who had directly benefited under Xi Ming’s leadership, many within the Empire, now that Xu Lihan was gone, began reminiscing about how good things had been under Xi Ming.

It had only been less than a week since Xi Ming revealed the truth about the 823 Incident, yet discussions about him—and about what really happened that day—dominated the Empire’s online platforms. News of the Empire’s defeat at the frontlines and Xu Lihan’s disappearance also weighed heavily on the minds of the citizens.

“I’ve always thought the 823 Incident was suspicious. Vice Admiral Xi never failed a mission. He was the model student at the military academy—how could he have made such a grave error? And the fact that he didn’t show up at the start of the battle doesn’t make sense.”

“Exactly. Every academy emphasizes how to detect early signs of a Zerg outbreak. Even a student would’ve known to evacuate early. There’s no way the order would only come after the Zerg left the planet. Xi Ming would never make such a rookie mistake.”

“Did everyone save that exposé? It’s gone from the net now. Guess some people aren’t great at war but are top-tier at censorship.”

“Aww, don’t say that about our ‘glorious Empire.’ Don’t you want to see our leaders guide us to a brighter future?”

“Brighter future? Look at the state of our territory! I’ll be happy as long as they don’t surrender to the pirates!”

“Funny how clear-eyed everyone is now. Nine years ago, none of you spoke up. The entire internet was filled with slander against Xi Ming. Where were you all then?”

“Regardless of whether what Xi Ming said is true, he’s already left the Empire. I’m more worried about Admiral Xu—he’s been missing for five days! Why hasn’t the Empire released any updates? Is anyone even looking for him?”

“They must be. But of course they won’t say it publicly. Admiral Xu is our last hope—if he doesn’t return, I fully believe the royal family will surrender to the Federation.”

“The royal family used to be known for valor. Now? Look at that heir—they were utterly routed despite every advantage, and instead of taking responsibility, they killed their own people to cover it up. Disgusting.”

“Can’t believe how much propaganda they pushed. That prince’s reputation was already in the gutter among the space pirates, yet they still painted him as the ‘Empire’s shining successor.’ I actually used to believe that. I must’ve been blind.”

“His mother is the current Empress—Empress Lan. Think about who runs the Empire’s propaganda bureau… Of course they could spin whatever image they wanted.”

“All I want is for Admiral Xu to come back safe. Please, let him be okay…”

“Dare I say it? If he came back… there might still be hope for the Empire.”

“He? Who’s ‘he’?”

“Dude… that’s bold. You better hide your IP address. Someone might actually come for you.”

“If he ever did come back, the Empire would definitely turn around. But after what happened, he must hate the Empire. I felt overwhelming rage just reading the exposé. If I were treated that way, I’d live just to get revenge.”

“If that evidence is real… I can’t believe the country I took pride in treated a hero like that. I almost cried thinking about it. I even cursed him back then. I want to slap my past self.”

“Maybe he doesn’t hate the Empire that much? Didn’t he let the families of his old subordinates take refuge with him? Maybe he still cares…”

“Care my ass! Did you not see that video of Wu Lidu? That coward used innocent civilians to threaten Xi Ming—his own citizens—as bargaining chips! And he’s the Crown Prince!? I swear, I wanted to defect right then and there. What a joke!”

“…Anyway, looks like this thread’s gonna be deleted soon. Read while you can.”

Though the Imperial royal family still heavily censored online discussion, deleting posts and banning accounts, it couldn’t stop the people’s growing outrage.

The number of casualties from this war far exceeded those of the 823 Incident. With the Empire on the decline and losses mounting, the grief and rage of its citizens could only be vented online—aimed at the generals, the royal family, and the Empire itself.

Despite the censorship, more and more people began to pray for Xu Lihan’s return. The entire Empire had begun to place its hopes on this youngest-ever Admiral.

He had become the Empire’s spiritual pillar. Though weakened in every sense, the Empire was hanging on by a thread—and that thread was the belief that Admiral Xu would return.

Though the Federation had held the upper hand in the war for a long time, recent defeats had rattled them. The hostages Xi Ming took wasted vast Federation resources; the plan to make Xu Lihan disappear and use Ye Wen to fracture the Empire’s forces had failed. Instead, Xu Lihan’s disappearance became the spark that reignited the Empire’s resistance, making them harder to conquer.

“Announce that Xu Lihan is dead!” barked a middle-aged general in the Federation’s war room, eyes full of malice. “The Empire’s renewed resistance is giving us trouble. We need to shatter their last hope and make them realize the Empire is finished. Let them resign themselves to being slaves of a dead nation!”

Everyone present was a high-ranking official of the Federation.
The omega spy program had been proposed by them years ago. After years of meticulous planning, they had silently infiltrated the Empire at all levels, even embedding agents near the top echelons to access classified information.

Unfortunately, their most promising agent, Bai Wen, had been discovered and vanished after escaping. Meanwhile, the long-planted Ye Wen had become obsessed with love, changed the plan on his own, and followed Xu Lihan on that doomed mission—now he, too, had disappeared.

“These omegas are just unreliable. Look at this.”
One person threw a thick file onto the table. Others picked it up and leafed through it.
“These are reports on omega agents over the years: slackers, those who never actively collected intel, those who disappeared, those who died, and even one who cut out their own gland to resist the organization. And almost all of them became emotionally attached to their targets due to being marked and unable to control their pheromones! Omegas are just weaker than alphas—and far less stable than betas!”

Someone laughed lightly, but their words were cold.
“Old Li, don’t be so upset. These omegas still brought back quite a bit of useful intel. As for those disloyal to the organization, we’ll just deal with them when the time comes. Our omega program has been cultivating new recruits all these years—we have more than enough in numbers.”

“Everyone knows alphas and betas are stronger, but you’re an alpha—and isn’t your partner an omega? It’s in an alpha’s nature to be attracted to omegas. That’s our advantage. Worst case, we just have to spend more effort on their training—make them too afraid to betray the organization.”
At the end of his words, his gaze turned cold and violent.
Clearly, the “training” he referred to would be brutal and bloody.

“I think the omega program may soon lose its effectiveness. The Empire has discovered the presence of spies. They’ll be much more cautious going forward.”

Someone disagreed, “I don’t think we even need to worry about the Empire. It’s on the verge of collapse. This method might work even better on the space pirates. Compared to the Empire’s elite, pirates are more wild and reckless. Omegas would have a bigger effect on them.”

“But most of those pirates are now under Xi Ming’s command. That complicates things.”
The speaker frowned.
“This Xi Ming was the reason our plans were delayed in the first place. Who would’ve thought he’d survive cosmic radiation? Now he even has someone by his side who can cure it.”

“The healer by Xi Ming’s side must be secured. He’s the only one in the entire galaxy who can cure cosmic radiation. I paid a fortune to get someone in for a treatment—he was unconscious inside a room, and when he came out, the radiation in his body had completely vanished. Not just suppressed—it was gone, truly cured.”

“That healer must become part of the Federation. But we need to think carefully: if we announce Xu Lihan’s death, will Ye Wen’s identity as a spy also be exposed? Xi Ming was in that same star region. Could he have anything damaging to us?”

“That’s indeed a concern. But this war with the Empire has dragged on too long, draining us immensely. Now, with space pirates harassing us constantly, and with the original Empire citizens on occupied planets launching suicide attacks, our daily losses are massive. We can’t afford another war of attrition. Either we end this quickly, or we go back to the old way—accepting the Empire’s surrender, waiting for them to rebuild over years, and then fighting again.”

“My recommendation is to go all out—erase the Empire from the history of the stars once and for all.”

The high command hesitated for a long time before finally making a decision:
“Announce Xu Lihan’s death to crush the Empire’s morale. Abandon the spy network if necessary. Our sole objective—erase the Empire from galactic history.”