The Starfield Farming Sovereign (Elizabeth Schofield) novel Chapter 3

"More than that," General Noah Wood chimed in with a grin. "I've heard the military forums have already dubbed him the 'Kingdom War God'."

Trevor Hewitt waved a hand, feigning a stern expression. "Alright, enough praising that brat. What good is all that power? He's not getting any younger, and he still doesn't even have a partner. When I was his age, I already had him running circles around the courtyard!"

Noah burst out laughing. "Come now, Commander Hewitt, you're giving Cristian far too little credit. Ladies from half the top families are desperate to secure a match with your son."

"And what good does that do?" Trevor snorted. "I told him to at least meet one of them, and that brat actually had the nerve to say, 'Why waste time on that when I could be killing a few more Swarmborn?' Tell me, wouldn't that drive you insane?"

Oliver suddenly leaned in and lowered his voice, his face full of gossip. "I heard Princess Lucille has been pursuing Cristian quite relentlessly. Commander Hewitt, why not think it over?"

Lucille Gallagher, the kingdom's third princess, made no secret of her feelings for Cristian.

When she turned 20, she had even marched straight to the Hewitts with a 69% genetic match, attempting to force a proposal.

But Cristian was a total stone wall. He wouldn't budge an inch.

"Give it a rest! There's nothing to think about!" Trevor waved it off, clearly annoyed. "The kid's got a mind of his own. Neither his mother nor I can talk any sense into him. At this point, I've given up on him bringing home some high-society lady. Honestly? As long as he's actually interested, I don't care if he brings back a Swarmborn queen—I'd still welcome her into the family!"

A wave of laughter swept through the room.

Everyone there was a veteran of the First Combat Division. They had followed Trevor from the academy straight into the trenches.

They weren't just subordinates—they were brothers-in-arms who had bled together.

Off the clock, they left their ranks at the door.

Fabian Larsson, the strategist who had been silent until now, finally spoke up, "Commander Hewitt, what about the genetic matches? Still no hits?"

"Don't even get me started," Trevor said, shaking his head helplessly. "The genetic registry has practically lined up a whole platoon of candidates for him, and the kid hasn't even spared them a glance—"

Before he could finish, the council hall doors flew open.

Zaylee Hewitt rushed in with several noblewomen, barely able to hide her excitement.

"Trevor! It's happened! A total game-changer!" She hurried over, eyes shining. "Cristian's perfect match just hit the system! Compatibility is 99.9999%!"

"What?" Trevor bolted upright. "A perfect match? Are you serious?"

"See for yourself!" Zaylee said, raising her holographic screen.

The hall fell completely silent as everyone looked at the virtual display projected into the air.

On the Kingdom Genetic Registry board, Cristian and Elizabeth's names appeared side by side, along with that shocking number. A collective, audible gasp rippled through the hall.

After a short pause, Trevor slammed the table and laughed as he stood.

"Hahaha! Perfect! Let's see how that brat wriggles his way out of this one!"

Any genetic match exceeding 90% was hailed as a perfect match, as it guaranteed a greater than 90% chance of siring offspring with SSS-level mental power.

In a kingdom of 600 million, fewer than a hundred individuals had ever hit that mark.

They were the crown jewels of the kingdom—living pillars of the state and the Kingdom's ultimate strategic assets.

That was why the law clearly stated that any match with a score over 90% must result in a legal marriage.

Hannah Schofield, the Schofields' second daughter and current heiress, completely lost control when she saw the message on the holographic screen. Her face twisted as she stared at the two names placed together.

Alessia Schofield dismissed the servants with a sharp wave of her hand. The moment the doors clicked shut, her voice dropped into a cold, warning hiss. "Hannah! Get a grip! Do you want us to become the laughingstock of the entire Kingdom?"

Hannah's chest heaved, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she struggled to contain herself. But when she spoke, her voice still held a serrated edge. "But it's Elizabeth! Of all people, why her?!"

She jabbed a trembling finger at the screen, her hand shaking as it hovered over the two names locked in that impossible match.

"She's a D-level nobody, a parasite who isn't fit to even tie my shoes! How dare they put her name anywhere near his?!"

The moment she spoke of Cristian, her voice shifted—heavy with a raw, agonizing reverence.

Because that was Cristian Hewitt.

The man she had enshrined in her heart since her very first crush. He was the one she'd worshipped from afar, a man too sacred to even name out loud, yet the only one she had ever truly craved.

He was the brightest and coldest star above Centria Planet—the kingdom's youngest war god, standing at the peak of SSS-level mental power.

In his presence, she was nothing but a speck of dust; even to draw near him felt like an act of sacrilege.

She had buried this obsession in the deepest, darkest corner of her heart, crushing it under the weight of its own impossibility. It was her most stubborn, most pathetic secret.

But now, the war god she had worshipped from afar, the man she deemed too sacred even to covet, was bound to the name of the one person she held in utter contempt.

It was utterly absurd.

A tidal wave of jealousy ripped through her, a visceral madness that threatened to tear her soul to shreds.