The Trash Guide Awakens: The Youngest General's Hidden Wife
Chapter 140: The Civilization She Forgot
Night descended upon the Living Forest without darkness ever truly claiming the emerald world.
Golden lights pulsed softly beneath the trees, casting long shadows across the enormous roots that stretched like slumbering serpents across the damp forest floor.
High above them, thick leaves shimmered faintly under a sweeping sky filled with unfamiliar constellations, bathing the clearing in a tranquil, ethereal glow.
Rhaevia stood completely motionless near the center of the clearing, her breathing shallow.
“The one who abandoned us.”
The accusation echoed inside the deepest corridors of her mind, refusing to fade into silence.
Throughout her recorded lives, she had heard countless voices calling out to her, soldiers screaming for reinforcements, helpless survivors begging for protection, and bitter enemies cursing her name before their downfall.
Yet none of those past screams had ever made her chest tighten like this. None had ever made her feel as though she had committed a monstrous crime that she simply could not remember.
Rhaevia took a slow, steadying breath and whispered into the air, “Show me what happened.”
The surrounding forest remained eerily still, its massive golden veins throbbing at a slow, deliberate pace.
Raevor stood only a step beside her, his hand hovering inches near her shoulder without making physical contact. He did not interrupt her focus, nor did he attempt to offer cheap reassurances with words he knew he could not prove true.
Instead, he simply kept watch over the perimeter, offering his silent, steady presence.
Rhaevia closed her eyes and carefully extended her Sovereign Guide energy out from her core, allowing the warm golden resonance to sink straight into the planetary root network.
“Please,” she murmured softly into the living soil. “If I hurt you, I need to know why.”
A surge of brilliant golden light instantly erupted beneath her boots, rushing up through the soil.
The Living Forest answered her plea with a crushing, overwhelming flood of ancient memories.
In a fraction of a second, the clearing shattered and vanished entirely from her senses.
Rhaevia found herself standing beneath a vibrant emerald sky, surrounded by a breathtaking civilization unlike anything recorded in modern Imperial or Federal history.
Towering, white crystalline structures rose gracefully between colossal trees, woven seamlessly into the living branches rather than carving them away. Luminous rivers of raw energy flowed through transparent aqueducts, nourishing floating gardens and expansive agricultural terraces.
Thousands of citizens moved peacefully through the grand elevated walkways.
Some possessed delicate, glowing crystalline markings across their pale skin. Others wore elaborate military uniforms bearing the unmistakable crest of the ancient Sovereign insignia.
They looked peaceful, thriving, and entirely at ease.
As the memory shifted toward a central white stone platform, every face that turned toward the woman leading them carried the exact same expression.
It was absolute, unquestioning trust.
Rhaevia’s heart skipped a beat as she recognized the dark, majestic armor trimmed with shimmering golden accents.
She stood at the center of the platform before a hurried gathering of senior scientists, high-ranking military commanders, and anxious civilian representatives.
“Why are we evacuating?” a high-ranking woman demanded, her hands trembling as she pointed toward the sky. “The planetary defense barriers are still holding!”
Above their heads, a real-time recording flickered ominously across the emerald sky.
Beyond the planet’s upper atmosphere, a vast, swirling black distortion was spreading rapidly between the stars.
Asteroids and defense structures disintegrated into nothingness wherever the shadow touched, and entire defensive fleets vanished from the radar screens without leaving a single piece of debris.
Standing in the memory, Rhaevia felt an icy chill run straight down her spine.
The unknown enemy had not bothered to attack this specific world directly.
It had simply been consuming every star system and resource surrounding it, starving the planet in absolute isolation.
The ancient Rhaevia raised one gloved hand, her voice ringing out cold and commanding over the rising panic.
“Initiate the planetary isolation protocol immediately,” the ancient ruler ordered. “Transfer the civilization’s remaining primary energy into the planetary forest network. No vessels are to leave orbit without my direct authorization.”
The gathered leaders instantly erupted into furious, terrified protests.
“If we isolate the planet now, the outer settlements will lose their energy connection!” an officer yelled.
“We still have hundreds of thousands of people stranded beyond the defensive perimeter!” a civilian representative pleaded, stepping forward. “Your Majesty, there must be another way!”
The woman in the golden-trimmed armor remained completely silent for several agonizing seconds, her eyes fixed on the collapsing tactical map.
Then, without looking back, she spoke the final command.
“Proceed.”
The memory blurred and fractured once more.
The forest’s vibrant golden glow began to dim as massive, shimmering energy barriers rose along the planet’s stratosphere, violently severing its connection to the surrounding galaxy.
The planetary network absorbed staggering quantities of environmental power, shielding the central city from the advancing cosmic distortion.
However, distant colonies and outer settlements immediately went pitch black.
Tracer signals of evacuation ships trapped outside the rising shields flickered and vanished one by one from the global map.
The surrounding forest shuddered violently around Rhaevia, as if the ancient roots were reliving every single soul lost to the dark void.
Rhaevia stumbled back, her breath hitching in her chest. “No…”
The memory relentlessly pressed onward.
The central civilization managed to survive the initial cosmic catastrophe, but its internal energy reserves gradually dwindled over the decades.
Great crystalline cities fell silent one after another as power failed. The white structures beneath the canopy fractured, forcing the remaining citizens to abandon their ruined homes and retreat deeper into the wild woods for survival.
Eventually, she stood entirely alone inside a dark, dying command chamber, staring silently at a master display filled with fading life-sign indicators.
The count dropped from thousands down to hundreds.
Then down to dozens.
A final audio transmission crackled softly through the empty room.
“Your Majesty… the outer settlements are completely gone.”
The Rhaevia slowly lowered her head into her hands.
For the first time, the legendary, invincible Sovereign Guide looked utterly, tragically defeated.
The memory abruptly shattered like brittle glass.
Rhaevia returned to the physical clearing with a ragged gasp, her knees giving out as she hit the damp earth.
Raevor dropped down beside her instantly, his strong hands catching her shoulders before she could collapse.
“Rhaevia!” he called out, his tone with genuine alarm.
She barely registered his voice over the roaring blood in her ears.
Her trembling hands dug deep into the cool, dark soil beneath her.
She was the one who had given the command for isolation.
She was the one who had calculated the numbers and chosen which citizens would receive shielding and which would be left to perish in the void.
Even if that brutal decision had been logically necessary to save the core world, countless innocent people had suffered and died because of her signature.
“Was that what really happened?” she whispered aloud, looking directly at the glowing roots around her. “Did I destroy your entire civilization?”
Light flickered unsteadily between the trunks.
“You chose.”
The two simple words struck her consciousness harder than any physical blade ever could.
Rhaevia lowered her eyes, her golden resonance trembling uncontrollably.
Throughout her current life, everyone had praised her as an extraordinary leader, a selfless savior, and a glorious sovereign who had sacrificed everything to protect humanity.
But what if the history the galaxy remembered was sanitized?
What if her greatest historical victories had actually been built upon the horrific suffering of the people she had failed to save?
“Perhaps they were right to hate me,” she whispered softly, her shoulders slumping under the crushing weight of the past.
Raevor’s fingers tightened firmly around hers, forcing her to feel his steady warmth.
“Don’t decide that before you know the full truth,” he said, his voice ringing with absolute conviction.
She lifted her gaze to meet his, deep pain and self-doubt reflecting in her golden eyes. “You saw what I did, Raevor. You saw the memory.”
“I saw a fragment of a memory recorded during a catastrophic war,” Raevor countered without flinching. “I didn’t see what terrible choices you were forced to weigh, what information you possessed at that moment, or what horrific destruction would have occurred if you had chosen differently.”
He leaned closer, holding her gaze steadily.
“Let the complete truth condemn you if it must,” he added quietly. “But do not execute judgment on yourself using only half of the story.”
Before Rhaevia could find the words to answer him, the entire Living Forest suddenly blazed with blinding radiance.
Pure, unfiltered golden light raced through the subterranean root system, converging directly beneath the clearing where they knelt.
The overwhelming wave of sorrow surrounding her mind intensified to a fever pitch, but beneath the ancient grief, she suddenly detected a different sensation entirely.
It was fear.
It was not fear directed at her.
It was an agonizing, desperate fear for her.
The planet’s collective voice returned, trembling as it reverberated through every living cell of the world-spanning network.
“You remember the choice.”
The ground beneath her knees pulsed with a deep, rhythmic vibration, echoing like a giant heartbeat.
“But you have forgotten what monstrous force forced you to make it.”
Rhaevia slowly lifted her head, her breath catching in her chest.
The world fell silent for one agonizing, suspended moment.
Then, the planetary mind whispered the final truth that changed everything she thought she knew.
“You did not abandon us willingly.”
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