Cannon fodder in the Interstellar

Upon hearing from the lieutenant that military merit points or school credits could be exchanged for psychic meditation techniques, Ruo Manni’s eyes widened in surprise.

Can this really be done? Isn’t it said that heavenly-level techniques are only inherited by great families? Moreover, those families treat these legacies as treasures; how could they be available for exchange in military schools and armies?

“This technique is privately provided by the eldest Prince. To exchange for it, a significant amount of military merit points or credits is required. However, the eldest Prince has set a rule for new students at the military academy that allows for learning first and then paying in installments,” the lieutenant said, a hint of pride in her voice.

“How many credits are needed for the exchange?” Ruo Manni asked.

She had made up her mind that if her meditation technique turned out to be only at the earthly level, she would definitely want to learn the human-level technique provided by the eldest Prince.

“One million credits,” the lieutenant replied, glancing at Ruo Manni.

“Oh!” Ruo Manni felt speechless. How could she possibly earn that many credits in four years?

“If it’s not paid off during your time at the academy, you will need to serve in the military, using military merit points to pay it back. One merit point is equivalent to ten credits.”

This was intriguing. Ruo Manni felt renewed interest; after all, she had already decided that she would join Captain Lin’s military unit after graduation. Although she might have to repay it for a long time, acquiring a heavenly-level technique was the most important thing in the current era.

Ruo Manni sighed, realizing that the eldest Prince was indeed a highly capable individual. If he hadn’t decisively implemented various reforms throughout the empire upon learning of the crisis with the alien Yunkai, and done everything possible to strengthen the empire’s overall power, it’s likely that after his sacrifice, humanity in the Gus Empire wouldn’t have had the capacity for a turnaround.

“This is the eldest Prince’s private training base,” Mina-Olli remarked, uninterested in the heavenly-level techniques mentioned by the lieutenant; her focus was different from Ruo Manni’s.

“Yes.”

The eldest Prince… Ruo Manni’s wariness eased a bit. Even though she had never met him, she felt he was very trustworthy, and if it was his arrangement, it had to be right.

As Ruo Manni sensed the situation, she felt that the lieutenant bore no ill will toward her and even seemed to regard her positively.

“This special training, although privately arranged by the eldest Prince, will be tailored for you elite youths by both us and your school. It will definitely test your overall capabilities to establish effective training. The various data from your tests in this base will be added to your records,” the lieutenant explained further.

With that, Ruo Manni didn’t have much more to say. Theoretically, meditating alone in the testing room posed no significant danger; she just needed to be cautious.

Half an hour later, Ruo Manni was called out of the testing room.

At this point, Mina-Olli had already entered another meditation room to practice her technique, leaving only Ruo Manni and the lieutenant in the instructor’s office, where the lieutenant was reviewing data on the official website.

“You are impressive—a level five telekinesis practitioner at just fifteen years old. The Gus Empire hasn’t seen such talent in hundreds of years. The empire needs you, so make sure to work hard,” the lieutenant’s tone softened significantly, filled with expectation.

From her tone, Ruo Manni suspected she might know about the alien Yunkai situation.

“Yes,” Ruo Manni replied seriously, saluting to express her gratitude for the elder’s sincere expectations.

“The meditation technique you’re practicing is excellent; it’s a heavenly-level technique. However, to prevent unnecessary trouble from others knowing, please don’t disclose it to anyone unrelated. Your information is encrypted by the military, and only someone of the eldest Prince’s rank can access it fully.”

Ruo Manni was astonished. To have learned a heavenly-level technique from the battlefield—what incredible luck was this? Such techniques couldn’t even be bought with credits.

The lieutenant was right; heavenly-level techniques are incredibly precious. Not only did she obtain it without any cost, but if certain powerful factions became aware, they might try to coerce her into handing it over.

As for the lieutenant knowing she possessed a heavenly-level technique, Ruo Manni had no concerns. The lieutenant was part of the eldest Prince’s personal guard, and since the eldest Prince offered these techniques to military students or soldiers in need, it was impossible for the lieutenant not to have access.

“Your current level is still low, and you haven’t mastered your telekinesis skills well. Skills require extensive training to enhance their lethality. I’ve seen your combat videos, and the skills you have are quite good; you don’t need to learn anything else. From now on, you will meditate here for four hours every afternoon and spend three hours practicing your skills. Once you meet my requirements, I will arrange further training for you,” the lieutenant said calmly.

“Yes,” Ruo Manni replied, her voice strong and clear.

After her rebirth, Ruo Manni’s training in physical and martial arts was guided by Captain Lin, but he couldn’t assist her with telekinesis training. Thus, she could be considered a self-taught telekinesis practitioner. With the lieutenant’s endorsement, it felt like an official confirmation that her martial skills suited her, filling her with vitality.

However, no amount of vitality could withstand grueling training.

By nine or nearly ten o’clock at night, after exhausting training, Ruo Manni and Mina-Olli emerged from the training room, too fatigued to move and needing to rest on the chairs in the lobby.

At that moment, the lieutenant walked out of a training room and approached them, presenting two vials of medicine for them to drink.

Mina-Olli glanced at the vials and immediately took one, drinking it without hesitation. From her attitude, Ruo Manni was certain the medicine was beneficial.

Ruo Manni looked at the lieutenant questioningly, and she replied calmly, “No questions.”

After pondering, Ruo Manni thought that the eldest Prince wouldn’t go through so much trouble to harm them, so she straightforwardly accepted the vial and drank it.

The cold liquid slid down her throat, bitter from the herbs, but then nothing else happened—after drinking the medicine, Ruo Manni felt no unusual sensations.

At ten o’clock that night, when the ten friends emerged from the training hall, they all staggered in their steps, too exhausted to even greet each other, each one focused solely on returning to their dorms to rest.

Ruo Manni and Mina-Olli walked out of the training room together, both too exhausted to speak.

As Ruo Manni dragged her tired feet toward the dormitory, she pondered the effects of the medicine the lieutenant had given them after training.

When they were almost at the dormitory building, Mina-Olli suddenly spoke up, “Since a year ago, I’ve had to drink a vial after every special training session, but no one ever says why.”

What kind of operation was this? It wasn’t mentioned in any novels.

“What do you feel?” Ruo Manni asked curiously.

“I can feel the training speed has increased a bit, but it’s not very noticeable.”

Ruo Manni responded with a sound of realization. The medicine likely accelerated training. Back on Topaz Star, she didn’t have this benefit, but now she could enjoy it without any cost. It was clear that only the eldest Prince would provide such generous support.