In the end, Amos chose a shortcut.
He piloted the small starship straight through a region swarming with star beasts, cleared out quite a few of them, and arrived at the Holy Cas Empire’s capital planet almost three days ahead of schedule.
The little one was still adjusting to Holy Cas Empire time.
The Holy Cas Empire’s planet was rare in having four distinct seasons.
Right now, it was winter, and the temperature outside was very low.
Amos himself was unafraid of the cold, but this little one certainly was not.
He hadn’t prepared much in this regard; he’d been focused on getting food for the little one, and only realized the chill when he saw the weather report for Holy Cas.
In these few short days, the little cub spent most of his time eating or sleeping—full, then nap, nap, then eat again.
He was recovering his strength and still unable to shift into human form, but over these days had become more and more clingy with Amos.
Early morning. The starship had just entered the airspace over Amos’s capital planet. The little cub was awakened by the ship’s auto-playing broadcast, curled up on his side, his tail wrapped close by. He rolled over, sat up, arched his back like a kitten to stretch, then lowered his head, let out a soft yawn, and shook the little feathers on his wings.
A couple “awoo”s—
Like a baby dragon’s roar.
Amos heard the commotion.
He walked over, reaching out to the little cub with his sparkling-bright little halo, who was gnawing at a packet of nutrient paste and gulping it down, before Amos stuffed a fruit into his arms.
“Half an hour left.”
The little one was still half asleep, but let out a sleepy huff and didn’t forget to argue about last night’s topic.
Zao Zao’s not afraid of the cold, Zao Zao’s really tough, Zao Zao can take care of himself!
Amos found it funny; he watched the cub, half-asleep, finish gnawing the fruit. He reached out to take the leftover pit.
The drowsy cub seemed a bit confused. He blinked up at Amos, moved his little head, and set it in Amos’s palm.
The fluffy ball sat there, back legs splayed, two little front paws bracing between them, still clutching the fruit pit; furry, round little head with twitching ears, the halo above swaying with the tail curling behind like a little dragon’s.
“Awoo!”
Baba! Look, Zao Zao has fur just like you!
Baba isn’t afraid of the cold, so Zao Zao isn’t, either!
Zao Zao and Baba are the same!
The same!
Amos: …
Amos subconsciously averted his gaze.
He’d been overwhelmed by the cuteness.
He’d begun to admit it, in resignation.
He looked at the tiny head in his palm.
“All right, you said it yourself.”
Outwardly, Amos still played it cool.
The little one raised his head.
Yes, Zao Zao said it!
Amos looked at the falling snow outside, then brought out his own change of military clothes, tossing it onto a chair nearby. He drew his hand back and let the cub sit in bed by himself.
Upon entering the Holy Cas Empire capital’s airspace, this small ship, equipped only with long-range one-way coms, could now receive all sorts of messages from the royal court.
When the return was registered, the comms flooded with news, but they’d be landing soon, so Amos couldn’t be bothered.
The Crown Clan were the royal family of Holy Cas Empire. Though their numbers had thinned, there were still a scattered few dozen left, all the very last generation. The previous generation had a handful—already at the edge of total psychic collapse as their end approached.
Amos was the leader of this generation, the most accomplished and powerful monarch, but also, because his psychic power was the strongest, his spiritual decay was among the most advanced of this era.
Outwardly, the Holy Cas Empire still seemed perfectly tranquil.
But beneath the surface, undercurrents were surging—it was the final march toward the Crown Clan’s end.
This was only the empire’s final glory.
No new younglings could be born to the clan.
“Awoo! Awoo!”
Mess—ouch, ah! That hurts!
Amos thought blankly—supposedly, things should be this way.
He couldn’t help but turn—“Zao Zao, what are you doing?”
He saw the white fluff ball dazedly folding his tiny wings forward.
The feathers were a tangled, ruffled mess from sleep; he’d tried grooming, but his technique was hopeless—no progress after all that effort.
The cub’s big amber eyes blinked wide, little paws fumbling at his wings.
“Awoo!” You’re the one that’s sticking out and bothering me?! I’ll pluck you!
“Awoo!” And this one! Zao Zao’s plucking you too!
“Awoo!” And one more, soon Zao Zao’s feathers will be tidy!
The little cub plucked and howled in protest at himself.
Like a silly little klutz.
Soon, several snowy feathers piled up under him.
Amos: …
Amos: ………………
Amos was speechless.
Over on the ruined medical pod, the screen was still dutifully doing its job: Signal detected!! Commencing emergency call—cub is being abused—
Amos silently picked up the pod screen and finally snapped it in two.
You artificial imbecile.
Shut up!!
So—
“What do you think you’re doing?!”
Amos walked over, picked the little one up, and brought him face to face, staring eye to eye.
He truly couldn’t understand this ‘self-harm’ act.
“Awoo?”
Little Chu Zao, busy plucking, was bewildered by Amos.
“Awoo!”
Baba! Zao Zao’s grooming his feathers!
Chu Zao was all thumbs in this department—never good at grooming his own wings, and in his previous world, no one had ever taught him, either.
He’d only ever heard others say—his feathers were always such a mess, clearly an unwanted, dirty bad little angel. No one wanted to play with him.
Whether clean or not, in or out with the group, the little one didn’t really care; it was just that ‘no one wanted me’ left him a bit down.
So the cub tried to learn to groom his own feathers.
But he never managed it, and could only pull out the messy ones that stuck up. Luckily, his feathers were thick; those pulled grew back quickly, so it made no real difference.
Over time, he’d gotten used to it.
Amos stared at the tiny wings in silence.
He cuddled the little fluff in his arms, arranging him belly-down.
The cub’s true form was tiny; so were the wings, with thick soft feathers. After a few days without proper care, they were indeed a little puffy, not sleek—looked rather ruffled.
If Amos wanted to fix up those feathers, he’d need to be patient and go, one by one, slowly.
Chu Zao sprawled in Amos’s arms, tail waving back and forth, the tip getting a gentle not-quite-pinch.
“Don’t squirm.”
“Awoo!”
Okay, got it, Baba.
Chu Zao spread his little wings.
He felt Amos carefully smoothing each feather into place.
It tickled a little, but didn’t hurt—in fact, it felt great. The cub, freshly woken, got drowsy again as Amos groomed him.
No one had ever smoothed his wings before, and he truly didn’t know how.
He hadn’t paid any attention to his increasingly disheveled wings these days.
So he never knew—was grooming feathers always this wonderful?
The halo above Chu Zao’s head began to sway happily.
“Awoo!”
The baby voice was soft and sweet.
Like it, Baba!
Amos didn’t reply, just kept on grooming the little one’s feathers. His movements weren’t clumsy.
After all, he’d groomed his own for hundreds of years—and for a long-lived mythic race, those hundreds flew by in a blink.
But as for grooming someone else, this was a first.
And these tiny wings—why did he have so much fluff?
Amos finished up just as it was time to leave the ship.
After triple-checking that he couldn’t possibly be accused of mistreating the cub—he was smooth-feathered and soft-furred—only then did Amos carry him outside.
Snowflakes whirled.
The red banners of the Holy Cas Empire fluttered in the sky.
But just as they crossed the threshold, the cub—from a world of eternal spring, never having seen snow—was exploring curiously when a swirl of wind and snow made him choke, and he turned at once, desperately pawing at Amos’s coat, halo burrowing downward toward his arms.
Clawing and huffing the whole way.
Baba, hurry, why is it so cold, Zao Zao’s going to freeze to death!
Amos took out a spare coat, a look of I knew this would happen, and bundled the little white fluff up tight.
Wait a moment.
Hearing Amos had returned, five or six Crown Clan members who were free today were waiting outside.
Their air was somber.
They were all kin—some siblings, some from other branches.
This was because Crown Clan cubs were born differently; even if their partners were from other races, childbirth depended on psychic power and could only happen at the clan’s place of origin. Ever since that sanctuary was destroyed centuries ago, there had been no more Crown Clan cubs.
When Amos’s message came, they’d felt surprise, but all assumed they’d misunderstood, or Amos had made a mistake.
There couldn’t possibly be a Crown Clan cub. Their generation was the last—there were no more to come.
Recently, one of the few Crown Clan from the last generation had a crown on the very verge of collapse, likely only holding on for a few more days.
And with Amos’s condition worsening, none knew when he might fall completely—news of his psychic health was unclear, as Amos always concealed himself during those episodes, going to the sanctuary to unleash his power alone.
They could only judge Amos’s worsening state by the cracks in his crown.
Things were grim indeed.
“Frey, what do you think His Majesty was talking about in that last message?”
Someone finally spoke, looking at a cold-faced young man.
Frey rather resembled Amos.
If Amos was a type who hid his strength behind a lazy, languid indifference, Frey was an iceberg—zero expression, cold as polar ice.
The late Holy Cas Emperor had five children in all. Amos was second in age, but strongest in psychic power; Frey, his eldest brother, was also top-tier.
Frey said nothing, watching the door swing open as a figure strolled over—it was his always-lawless brother, who’d been even worse since becoming emperor.
Someone else chimed in, “Probably a mistake? Even if there was a cub, it couldn’t be one of ours. I wouldn’t even remember what a Crown Clan cub looks like—only once in a while you see a random surprise in daily life, hahaha.”
“Hey, but seriously, the elders all went crazy for cubs. Honestly I barely remember it, what was up with that? Why’d they love cubs so much? I can’t even recall what ours looked like—unless a mini crown appeared right in front of me—”
They’d already spotted Amos, and the bundle in his arms. After saluting, they chanced a look, just as the bundle squirmed, and a tiny, trembling, ornate golden halo emerged—so small it barely covered a palm, wobbling from the cold.
In the next moment, a snowy little paw grabbed the halo and tugged it back down.
Ha, there really is a little crown…
…A little crown?
Ah???????
Thank you for the chapters! Enjoyed so far, very cute!
Time for Zap Zao to get absolutely spoiled