Chapter 74: Jealous General

The assassination attempt had altered the atmosphere aboard the Rythundeir flagship, replacing its grandeur with tense vigilance. Armed sentries paced the pristine corridors while security mechs hummed at every junction.

Every access corridor was monitored by high-frequency surveillance arrays, scanning for spatial fluctuations. Every visitor underwent thorough bio-scans, their optical identities verified against imperial registries before passing through the blast doors.

And yet, despite the underlying paranoia surrounding the mysterious faction known as Project Genesis, daily life continued on the massive vessel. The crew maintained their shifts, the command deck monitored deep-space anomalies, and routine military training proceeded as scheduled.

Rhaevia returned to her regular training schedule several days later, her body fully recovered from the engagement in the ancestral vault. The low hum of the ship’s gravimetric stabilizers filled the air as she stretched her limbs on the expansive deck.

The primary military training deck was crowded with young nobles, elite cadets, and visiting officers from several influential families. The Empire had apparently decided that keeping Rhaevia isolated after her sudden awakening was no longer practical or politically feasible.

Everyone wanted a glance at the newly awakened Sovereign Guide who had managed to shatter testing parameters and survive an ambush by high-level operatives. Whispers followed her every step, full of curiosity, envy, and undisguised intrigue.

Rhaevia hated the unwanted attention with every fiber of her veteran soul. She preferred the cold clarity of a chaotic battlefield to the suffocating stares of political spectators.

She was standing beside a massive projection table, watching blue holographic star charts shift across the glass surface. The soft hum of the projection array was interrupted as a young man detached himself from a group of onlookers and approached her.

He was tall, poised, and dressed in an immaculate dark military uniform trimmed with silver thread. The polished silver insignia on his lapel indicated that he belonged to a prestigious noble house from the northern star domain.

More importantly, the faint, shimmering kinetic energy radiating subtly around his frame identified him as a high-ranking Sentinel. His posture was confident, carrying the natural arrogance common among high-tier military officers.

He stopped several steps away, maintaining a respectful distance while offering a smooth, practiced bow.

"Lady Rhaevia," the young noble greeted, his voice rich and refined.

She turned her head slightly, her cool azure eyes measuring him in an instant. "Yes?" Rhaevia replied, her tone neutral.

The young Sentinel smiled, his confidence unshakeable despite her cold reception.

"I’ve heard quite a lot about you recently," he said, resting a hand lightly on his decorative sidearm.

"That sounds unfortunate for you," Rhaevia remarked dryly, returning her gaze to the tactical map.

He laughed softly, genuinely amused by her blunt response.

"I heard you were remarkably difficult to approach, but I see those reports understated the truth," he noted with a grin.

"Accurate," she replied simply, adjusting a data slider on the holotable.

"I also heard you defeated several advanced combat instructors during your initial evaluation," he continued, stepping slightly closer to the projection table.

Rhaevia gave him a faint glance out of the corner of her eye.

"Also accurate," she confirmed without a trace of boastfulness.

His smile widened, a clear sparkle of genuine interest lighting up his features.

"I think I’m beginning to understand why everyone on the fleet is fascinated by you," he said softly.

Rhaevia raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching with mild amusement at his overt attempt at charm.

"Are you trying to flatter me, Captain?" she asked.

"Perhaps," he admitted openly, giving her an engaging, relaxed grin. "Is it working?"

The conversation wasn’t entirely unpleasant, as the young Sentinel was smooth, confident without being overly arrogant, and his admiration was obvious. He carried himself like a warrior who respected strength rather than just social status.

Unfortunately, someone else on the training deck had noticed the exchange.

Raevor stood several meters away near the weapons rack, his tall frame cutting a commanding shadow against the bright lights. He had been discussing security protocols with a group of junior military officers.

His expression remained calm, an unreadable mask of military discipline. His posture remained composed, his shoulders straight and imposing in his dark Major General uniform.

Nothing about his physical expression suggested the slightest bit of irritation or distress.

Except for the fact that the reinforced alloy handrail beneath his left hand had begun to groan under sudden pressure. Micro-fractures spiderwebbed across the metal as his grip tightened, the dense material warping beneath his fingers.

The junior officer standing beside him paused mid-sentence, his eyes dropping toward the groaning metal rail. Sweat broke out on the officer’s forehead as he felt the ambient physical pressure around the General spike dangerously.

The officer slowly looked up into Raevor’s dark, icy eyes.

"Major General...?" the officer stammered out, his voice trembling.

Raevor smoothly released the warped railing, stepping back as if nothing had happened. His golden Sentinel energy settled back beneath his skin, though the air around him remained cold.

"Continue your report," Raevor commanded, his voice dark and deep.

"Yes, General!" the officer squeaked, wisely dropping his eyes back to his datapad and speaking as fast as he could.

Across the wide expanse of the training deck, Rhaevia had caught the microscopic shift in atmospheric pressure. Her Guide senses picked up the subtle flare of Raevor’s golden aura, and her eyes narrowed slightly as she glanced in his direction.

Interesting, she thought, a faint spark of amusement igniting in her mind as she realized what was happening.

Unaware of the silent storm brewing across the room, the young Sentinel noble continued speaking smoothly. He shifted his stance, leaning slightly toward Rhaevia with an open, charming expression.

"Would you allow me the honor of accompanying you to the upcoming Imperial military exhibition on the capital world?" he asked, his tone hopeful.

Rhaevia blinked, turning her full attention back to him.

"That sounds suspiciously like a formal invitation," she noted, her voice neutral.

"It is," he admitted with a bold smile. "I would be delighted to serve as your escort."

Before Rhaevia could open her mouth to answer, a cold, familiar voice echoed from directly behind them, cutting through the ambient noise of the deck.

"She won’t be attending," the deep voice stated with absolute, unyielding authority.

Rhaevia turned smoothly, watching Raevor approach them with slow, measured steps. His heavy boots clicked rhythmically against the metal floor, every movement radiating the overwhelming presence of a high-tier General.

The young Sentinel noble immediately straightened his posture, snapping his heels together and offering a crisp military salute.

"Major General Veyr," he acknowledged, his previous casual demeanor vanishing instantly.

Raevor stopped a step away, returning the gesture with a brief, indifferent nod. His handsome face was a mask of neutrality, devoid of emotion.

"Your request has been noted, Captain," Raevor said, his voice flat and professional. "However, Lady Rhaevia’s schedule is currently managed under top-tier military security protocols."