A brief silence fell over the conference room as the grand figures present tried their best to process information and deductions that defied ordinary logic.
From the vantage point of their respective specialties and stations, some harbored doubts, others deep misgivings. In the end, however, every one of them had no choice but to accept Xin Yaoqiao's assessment.
For this was her domain.
In this field, she was the counterpart to what Chen Buer had been to humanity's world of source martial arts.
In fact, from the perspective of their singular discipline's historical development, the young Huaxia major on the other end of the communicator was the sole true pioneer in the study of Great Spike civilization's language.
"Miwang! If it can kill through voice alone…"
The one who broke the silence was an elder from the Council of Elders, muttering under his breath with heavy dread.
He had been shaken to the core by Miwang's terrifying might—a power far transcending conventional martial concepts—and could not help but grow increasingly fearful for humanity's future.
"Fortunately, that sort of thing can't possibly be taught on a mass scale. Reaching true mastery and professional proficiency is absurdly difficult."
Xu Xiaohong chimed in with a laugh. Widely acknowledged as a brilliant intellect, he had previously invested considerable effort into studying the Great Spike language for a time. In the end, he had been forced to admit he was not an all-around genius after all.
With these words, Chief of Staff Xu indirectly shut down a suggestion someone present might have otherwise raised: assemble a cohort of super-tier fighters to attempt learning and studying the language before listening to and deciphering the recording.
Such an endeavor demanded not only supreme aptitude, but an immense investment of time.
And time was something Azure simply could not spare.
No one yet knew what message the recording contained, but without question, it was of paramount importance. Under the current circumstances, shelving it was completely out of the question.
"Then… would it be possible to have someone at peak combat power listen to it, and then either imitate it or attempt to relay… to describe it to you? Would it still attack you under those conditions?"
The speaker was Abanghuoya, former Supreme Commander of the Azure Coalition—a great forebear who had vanished from public view decades ago, to the point that most within Azure assumed he had long since passed away.
He, too, was attending today's classified conference.
Now, he posed the question in his capacity as an anonymous member of the Council of Elders.
*This man has to be over a hundred and thirty years old by now, doesn't he? And he isn't even the oldest monster in this room today!*
Peering out from beneath her slate-blue hood, Zhe Qiuhong recognized this former core leader of Azure, a man never renowned for combat strength. A thought crossed her mind, and she quickly understood.
Azure could not—and dared not—let the common soldiers and the world's populace discover what source energy could do for an ordinary human's lifespan.
The widespread consensus across the world held that the higher one's source energy combat rank, the longer one lived, barring accidents or death in battle.
That was a healthy, constructive form of guidance.
If that general understanding ever shifted—if people learned that ordinary individuals could also achieve vastly extended lifespans, to an astonishing degree, simply through prolonged nourishment with massive amounts of source energy—the order and logic underpinning the source energy sphere, and human society as a whole, would collapse.
Such turmoil might well shake the very foundation of humanity's resistance.
*Looking at it this way, they truly have stopped keeping their guard up around me.* With that realization, Zhe Qiuhong kept silent.
She did not care whether this practice was right or wrong, nor was she in any position to define it. After all, if a man like Chief of Staff Xu Xiaohong consumed a certain quantity of source energy blocks to prolong his life, was that truly wrong?
Meanwhile, over the communicator, Xin Yaoqiao replied to Abanghuoya's question.
"It wouldn't work. I don't know whether the attack would still trigger, but no one could possibly imitate or describe it the way you're suggesting.
"The Great Spike civilization's language operates on an entirely different underlying logic and structural system. This isn't like the difference between English and Huaxian. It's a fundamental divergence on the level of civilizational consciousness. Its complexity is far beyond your imagination.
"Even for those of us in the linguistics division, recognizing the vast majority of syllables requires cross-referencing glyphs, performing calculations, and working through countless hypotheses and deductions.
"At times, we even rely on sudden flashes of inspiration to piece together a translation."
None of the figures in the room spoke again.
Xin Yaoqiao's explanation had blocked every alternative path while laying bare the sheer impossibility of the task. It meant humanity was left with only one choice.
"I'll try," Xin Yaoqiao said, her tone surprisingly light.
"If that fails, then you can organize super-tier fighters to attempt learning it."
By 'if that fails,' what she really meant was: *if I die.*
Still, no one spoke. In the silence of the conference room, the grand figures rose to their feet one by one to show their respect and gratitude.
They accepted Xin Yaoqiao's decision.
Because the importance and security clearance of the recording had been elevated to the absolute highest level, Xin Yaoqiao could not even be entirely candid with her family about her decision—even though both her grandfather and maternal grandfather had been prominent figures within Azure's Huaxia faction.
Xin Yaoqiao had no need to return to Blue Star.
The attempt would be conducted directly aboard the Miracle Space Station, where all the necessary deciphering equipment was already in place, along with the finest assistant available.
"Wait until I arrive before you begin. I'll submit my travel request right away."
Among those standing, Zhe Qiuhong suddenly spoke up, declaring her intent to head to the Miracle Space Station. As a doctor, there might not be much she could do, but she had to try.
"Alright," Xin Yaoqiao agreed without hesitation.
She was putting her life on the line, but she had no wish to die.
"You can use this time to find someone you can talk to and have a chat," Zhe Qiuhong added, a rare hint of teasing in her voice.
She then gathered her belongings and stepped out of the conference room.
***
Who could Xin Yaoqiao possibly talk to about this?
Her options were few, but fortunately, the person she wanted to speak with most was among them.
Xin Yaoqiao had once proudly told Han Qingyu that she had attained top-tier combat power, but in truth, she was merely close—a pseudo-top-tier at best.
She lacked practical combat experience far too severely.
In the world of source martial prowess, only battle could bring about breakthrough leaps in strength (with the probable exception of Pegmont on certain occasions, and He Tangtang after reaching top tier). Otherwise, no matter how extraordinary one's innate talent, breaking through bottlenecks remained impossible.
"Anyway, I think I should be fine. I'm top combat power, after all," Xin Yaoqiao insisted over the private interplanetary comm line, still clinging to her claim. "Besides, since their purpose is transmitting information, the lethal force in Miwang's voice shouldn't be so strong that it kills any Red Shoulders who hear it. So there must be a threshold to the damage it inflicts."
This logic lacked substantive evidence, serving more as subjective self-comfort than anything else.
Pausing for a moment, Xin Yaoqiao abruptly changed the subject.
"Qingzi, I used to like you a lot. You knew that, right? Even if you were a lump of dead iron, you ought to have figured it out.
"Right now, though, it's hard to put into words. It feels like saying I like you would be strange, even unreasonable, given where you are now.
"Still, I won't like anyone else. And I can't bear the thought of you liking someone else either.
"…Hey! Say something, will you? You dead Qingyu!"
Met with continued silence on the other end, Xin Yaoqiao began to feel a flush of embarrassed irritation.
"Ahem, didn't I tell you right from the start? He can't talk right now. He can't even twitch a muscle." Beside the hospital bed in the Mars camp, Wen Jifei leaned down to answer, looking both amused and helpless.
"Oh. Are you sure he can hear me, then?" Xin Yaoqiao asked, unabashed.
"Positive," Wen Jifei replied. "He's conscious."
"Good. Then Han Qingyu, you listen to me. I don't care whether you like me or agree with me. Either way, I'm taking this risk for the sake of all humanity today. How noble is that? So I'm making demands of you, and you have to promise me."
Wen Jifei naturally had no need—and no way—to field a statement like that.
Xin Yaoqiao paused on her end, seemingly gathering her thoughts before speaking again.
"If I die today, you are not allowed to marry any woman I know. Because if you do, I'll feel like I lost, and I'll be terribly upset.
"Someday in the future, when you come visit my grave, remember to bring roses.
"You can't bring her, and you can't bring your kids."
Having said her piece, Xin Yaoqiao hung up the call.
In that moment, she looked just like the little girl from their chance meeting long ago, the one Han Qingyu had pulled down into the ditch—direct, willful, a little childish, and hardly changed at all.
Chapter 926