Cultivator vs. Galaxy: Rebirth in a World of Mechas-Chapter 51: ch Oversee the discussions

She paused.

Her crystalline eyes—if they could even be called eyes—glowed faintly, subtle gleams of light flowing like thought itself through her holographic form. Something in her awareness shifted, deep and deliberate, as if a new layer of understanding had settled into place.

"As for Mr. William’s requests..." she began, her voice calm, yet edged with something unmistakably final. "They are not only not unreasonable—they are, in fact, entirely reasonable."

"And when examined from a different perspective—one I have accounted for—they are not demands, but rather sincere and carefully considered appeals."

Her gaze sharpened, narrowing like a blade being drawn. There was a shift in her expression again, subtle yet distinct — and yet, both Natsh and John failed to notice it entirely.

"In my judgment... they are insufficient."

Both John and Natash stiffened in disbelief.

It was Natash who broke the silence, her voice tinged with confusion and incredulity.

"Insufficient?" she repeated, barely above a whisper, as if the word itself was too bold to speak aloud. freёnovelkiss-com

But as the word lingered in the air, her mind began to catch up. The Goddess wasn’t speaking emotionally—she never did. This was logic. Cold, calculated, and undeniably human-centered logic. And as that realization settled in, Natash felt a strange clarity emerge.

Yes, the title of Warlord sounded excessive at first glance. A bold demand, even dangerous by some standards. But was it really? In truth, anyone with a fleet, a string of war victories, and the loyalty of people they lead and protected could be called a Warlord.

The title itself was never the threat. It would be a mistake to think so — a fundamental misunderstanding. The designation of "Warlord" had been a desperate push by the Federation Council, which had begun to feel the weight of the battlefield pressing down upon them.

The decision was made to redirect all of humanity’s focus toward repelling the Severance fleet that had entered the outer regions of Bedrion, taking advantage of the Federation’s moment of weakness.

In truth, the purpose behind the Warlord title was to motivate individuals with the wealth, willpower, and strength to take up arms and fight the Severance Alliance. In return for their merit in battle, they could be rewarded with resources, planets, technology — even rare life-enhancement serums.

So to claim the title itself was a threat was misguided at best. Its purpose was singular and clear: to defeat the Severance Alliance and, if possible, expand the Federation’s reach beyond the stars.

And all William had asked for... was the title of Warlord. Something so seemingly simple — yet, for them, it was incredibly difficult to approve. After all, to them, power was a contract: the more someone possessed, the less control they felt they had. And in this case, William was already more powerful than any of them — more powerful than the Federation itself, standing alone.

The very idea of losing control unsettled many of them. They weren’t openly against him, not entirely — but the fear was there, buried just beneath the surface.

Yet, ironically, William wasn’t taking power from the Federation. He was offering it. He wasn’t seizing control — he was giving it back.

Tier-7 technology. True Tier-7.A concept that, as high-ranking officials, they understood all too well — not in its mastery, but in its unattainability. For decades, their brightest minds — the Celestial Designers — had researched it relentlessly, both here and back in the Milky Way. And yet, progress had been nonexistent. No breakthroughs. No tangible results. Just theories and dead ends.

And now, what they had struggled even to comprehend... was simply handed to them.

William hadn’t just spoken about it — he had demonstrated its prowess. He laid it out clearly, leaving no doubt. She had heard it too, felt it in the weight of his words. What William had brought to the table wasn’t an offer.

It was a leap.

A push forward.

A force strong enough to propel the Federation into a new era of civilization — something many had dreamed of, but none had been able to touch.

If they truly thought it through, this deal made them stronger. If they only looked at it from that perspective, they’d see the truth: they stood to gain everything, not lose it.

In that light, the Goddess wasn’t wrong at all. If anything, William had underplayed the magnitude of his gift.

Natash remained silent after that—but she slowly nodded toward the Goddess of Wisdom. A quiet gesture of agreement. She knew the Goddess didn’t need her approval.

But she gave it anyway.

The Goddess of Wisdom noticed Natash quietly repeat the word "insufficient," then just as quickly give a nod of understanding and approval.

She understood.

And in return, the Goddess offered her a subtle nod—small, almost imperceptible, but unmistakably deliberate.

Then she continued.

"I see that Admiral Natash—and even you, Grand Admiral—now understand why I said Mr. William’s demands are insufficient."

"Because the truth is—I am correct. And rather than resist that truth, I believe it is time we, the Federation, take a step forward ourselves."

"Instead of merely accepting his terms and benefiting in a one-sided manner, we should do more. We must show initiative. Intent. Solidarity."

Her tone rose slightly—not in volume, but in gravity.

"To that end, I have decided to recommend that further benefits be granted to Mr. William. Not out of obligation... but as a gesture of trust. Of commitment. To shared prosperity—and to a shared future, perhaps."

"But that," she continued in a more measured, almost conceding tone, "is not mine alone to decide. These matters fall under the authority of the Federation Council, and their process cannot—and must not—be ignored."

"As such," she went on, her voice resuming its calm precision, "in my capacity as President of the Council, I have issued an emergency summons to every sitting member. The purpose: to convene and formally discuss the appropriate level of reward to be granted to Mr. William, as well as to deliberate on the proposals he has submitted."

She paused, briefly.

"While I have already reached conclusions on much of it, and while I stand by my judgment, the Federation Council must still debate, confirm, and ratify those decisions before implementation."

Hearing the final words of the Goddess of Wisdom, both John and Natash exhaled—a quiet sigh of relief escaping them, as if a great boulder pressing against their chests had finally been lifted.

For both of them—but especially John—that relief came from a shared, unspoken thought. For a brief moment, he had feared that the Goddess of Wisdom might have overstepped... that she had taken full control of the Federation, disregarding the authority of the Council entirely.

But it seemed he had been overthinking. She hadn’t crossed that line.

And that, more than anything else, was why he felt relief.

The Goddess of Wisdom took no note—at least not outwardly—of John and Natash’s visible relief. She understood it, of course. Instinctively. Precisely. But she chose to ignore it, keeping her expression unchanged as she continued:

"In approximately ten minutes, a full Council Assembly will begin. All current members will be present, and—as is customary—my two sisters will preside alongside me."

"The Eight Divine Pilots will also be in attendance," she added, her tone untouched by pride or concern, "though they will not play an active role in this particular session. Their alignment with my position has already been established—before the assembly even begins."

Though her words were delivered with composed neutrality, their meaning was not lost—especially not on John.

The Goddess of Wisdom was, in her own subtle way, making something clear: for this matter, she was taking control. The semblance of the Federation Council’s authority would be maintained—yes—but only so long as it remained within acceptable bounds. Should any member cross the line... she would act freely, without hesitation.

And with the unwavering support of the Eight Divine Pilots behind her, she would be unstoppable.

A shiver ran down John’s spine.

But he said nothing.

He didn’t speak. He didn’t gesture. He didn’t even nod.

He simply stood there, silent—while a storm of thoughts passed through his mind like beams of light shooting through the void of space at lightspeed.

And for once, the Goddess of Wisdom didn’t try to read them.

She let him keep them.

She continued without pause, her tone unwavering:

"Though the outcome has already been decided on my part—as I’ve made clear—it will still be formally discussed. As is required."

"Now, as the superior officer of Admiral Kevin—the one who first encountered Mr. William—it is important to acknowledge that his contributions are significant. However, due to his lack of authority, he will not be permitted to participate directly in the Council Assembly."

Her gaze turned to John.

"For that reason, Grand Admiral, I require you to present the situation in full to the Council. Your words will carry the weight necessary to give Admiral Kevin’s findings their due importance."

She paused for the briefest moment before concluding.

"Once the Assembly begins, I—along with my sisters—will oversee the discussions.

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