Cultivator vs. Galaxy: Rebirth in a World of Mechas-Chapter 62: Ch saw through it.

But not all shared the sentiment. A few faces hardened, brows tightening further and further—silent expressions of doubt, resistance, or something else entirely.

But why should the Goddess of Wisdom concern herself with such people? Was she worried about their thoughts—or the harm to their interests if they clung to the past and their outdated practices? Not in the slightest. She had no intention of caring for them, nor would she mourn any losses they might suffer as a result of their stubbornness.

On the contrary, if they dared to stand in the way—if they chose to become the boundary to progress—then she, along with her two sisters, would deal with them personally.

So, she ignored them.

And so, she continued her speech. "I won’t waste time listing the benefits to the Federation—you’ve already imagined them yourselves. If you hadn’t, you wouldn’t be sitting in this chamber, nor would you dare call yourselves the Federation’s higher brass."

She spoke in two directions at once. To those already in favor of the opportunity—her words merely highlighted the obvious, affirming their readiness and foresight.

But to those still blind to it, still hesitating—her message was a quiet condemnation: If you can’t see what stands to be gained—or what may be lost—then perhaps you are not worthy of the seat you currently occupy.

She continued with unwavering momentum: "But I will say this: this is our moment. A rare and massive opportunity—one we cannot afford to let slip through our fingers. Not because of doubts. Not because of fears of a future that may never come to pass."

Her gaze swept the chamber. "And yet... I see fear etched on some of your faces. Only a few—but still, it’s disappointing. That even a handful among you cannot see the bigger picture... it speaks volumes."

She let the silence linger for a heartbeat. "But then again, there are always a few rotten apples among the good ones, aren’t there?"

Hearing her words—so pointed, so unmistakably clear—the expressions of nearly a dozen council members darkened further. Their faces, already stern, now brimmed with silent fury. Yet they said nothing. They dared not.

For to speak now would be to expose themselves—to admit, by their own mouths, that they were the very "rotten apples" the goddess had alluded to.Still, their silence did little to hide the truth.

Their faces told the story for them, and many in the chamber took notice. It was obvious who the goddess had aimed her words at. A few councilors, those aligned with her, even chuckled—quietly, carefully—but the amusement was clear.

That only made the targeted few seethe even more. Their fury simmered beneath the surface, and though they cursed the Goddess of Wisdom in the silence of their minds, they could do nothing...

"Now, everyone," the Goddess of Wisdom said, her voice gaining fresh momentum and force behind every word, "I present to you the very reason this council was summoned— The Solivane Mandate."

She let the name hang in the air for a moment before continuing: "’Sol’—as in the sun. A symbol of light that pushes away darkness. A symbol of hope, especially in times like these, when we find ourselves surrounded by shadows. And ’vane’—as in direction. A guiding force. A path forward.

That is what this new technology represents: a beacon that can lead us out of the encroaching dark and make us shine—like sunlight itself—against the enemy that surrounds us... the Severance Alliance."

As her words echoed through the chamber, many council members nodded in solemn agreement. The name, and its meaning, struck a chord. 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

It was not just a title—it was a declaration. A symbol of humanity’s current struggle... and its will to rise above it, armed with a light that, sooner rather than later, will become significant—a light that cannot and will not be ignored by the forces of the severance’ Alliance.

The Goddess of Wisdom’s voice echoed through the chamber once more, now laced with unwavering authority. "Under normal circumstances, General, we would proceed with the usual deliberations—discussing the pros and cons of the mandate in detail.

But such a process, though standard, is insufficient and ineffective given the urgency of our current situation. This is no ordinary proposal, and this is no ordinary time."

She stood tall, her presence amplified by the silence that followed. "Therefore, as the Council’s Presiding president——and with the full agreement of the other two presidents, the Goddess of War and the Goddess of Judgment— I hereby declare that for this session, we shall forgo traditional procedures. There will be no prolonged debates over what is already clear to many."

A few murmurs swept the room, but none dared interrupt.

"Instead, we will proceed directly to the vote. Should the mandate receive majority approval, it will be passed immediately and without further delay."

Just then, the pressure became too much for the dissenting group. The Goddess of Wisdom had, in their eyes, crossed a line—no, several lines. First, by even calling for this meeting, she had already threatened their interests.

Then she had labeled them—indirectly, but unmistakably—as "rotten apples" and "short-sighted fools." And now, to override council procedure entirely? To them, it was an outright power grab. They had tolerated enough.

One of them rose to his feet—Petrove, a noble of considerable influence, both a king in his own right and the representative of several kingdoms allied under his banner. His robes swayed with his sudden movement, and his voice boomed across the hall with fury.

"ENOUGH ALREADY!" he bellowed, eyes narrowed at the Goddess of Wisdom. "You are crossing the line, Goddess. Severely. For what reason do you dare to overstep the general procedures of this Council—procedures that are required to pass any mandate of this magnitude? Without even a debate?"

He gestured broadly, incensed. "I acknowledge the uniqueness of the situation—yes. But no matter how special a mandate may be, it must still go through proper procedure. We must discuss the pros and cons in detail. That is our duty, our process. That is the law of this chamber. So I ask you—"

He leaned forward, voice cold with accusation. "—how dare you act as if you have the authority to bypass it? For the last time I checked, you do not."

With a huff of defiance, Petrove returned to his seat, arms folded, gaze locked onto the Goddess of Wisdom in challenge.

Around him, eight or so others began to murmur just loud enough for all to hear. Their words—though not shouted—carried weight. They echoed Petrove’s sentiments, nodding in agreement, rallying quietly behind his protest.

Around him, eight or so others began to murmur just loud enough for all to hear. Their words—though not shouted—carried weight. They echoed Petrove’s sentiments, nodding in agreement, rallying quietly behind his protest.

But while Petrove’s words rang loudly, only a small handful truly echoed his sentiment. The vast majority of council members—silent but watchful—were far from impressed.

They saw through it.

To them, it was obvious what Petrove and his faction were doing: delaying. Disrupting. Stalling a mandate that had the potential to stabilize their fractured situation. And for what? Self-interest cloaked in procedural righteousness.

Their blatant obstruction angered many, especially those whose roles and futures depended on the technology being discussed.

The most infuriated among them were the Celestial Designers—those tasked with shaping the future of human innovation. To them, this delay wasn’t just political posturing—it was a direct sabotage of their research, their progress, their vision. Even a day’s delay could cost them breakthroughs.

Right behind them in fury stood the Grand Admiral, whose fleets stood vulnerable without the upgrades this new mandate could bring. Like the designers, he saw Petrove’s move not as noble defiance—but as a selfish ploy that endangered humanity’s defense.

Several voices were on the verge of rising in opposition.

But before they could speak, the chamber fell silent once more—because the Goddess of Wisdom was already on her feet, voice calm but edged with unmistakable steel.

"Oh, Councilor Petrove..." she said, a quiet, dangerous smile touching her lips."You ask me, how dare I change Federation Council law? When did I gain the authority to do such a thing?"

She stepped forward, the room holding its breath.

"Then let me remind you—and everyone else—of what you seem to have conveniently forgotten.""Per the Federation Charter, Page 2003, Article 203, Section 30-A—yes, that’s the one—if a mandate or proposal is deemed exceptional, and if it receives support exceeding sixty percent of the Council, it may bypass standard deliberation procedures and proceed directly to a vote."

She gestured around the room, where dozens of heads nodded.

"Look around, Petrove. Look well. The majority stands in favor. The situation is exceptional. The support is clear. And so, yes... I do have the authority. And I will exercise it."

She didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t need to. The weight of her words, grounded in law and delivered with absolute certainty, crushed any remaining protest like a blade of grass underfoot.