Cub 022: The Reassembled Coronet and Halo

In a daze, Meilun seemed to see a small figure, sitting alone atop a tall tree, hugging his knees, hands clasped tight, making a wish to the brilliant fireworks in the distance, his voice soft and milky—“Zao Zao doesn’t want to be alone anymore. Can Zao Zao have a family and become the happiest little angel?”

Little angel?

The spiritual weapon in Meilun’s hand shattered in that instant—as if it simply dissolved.

The coronet was the source of the Crown Clan’s power and a manifestation of its vitality, but it was also a limiter.

When the coronet broke to the point of being unrecognizable, their life reached its end. Every Crown Clan’s coronet shone with a silvery-black light, and in death and decay, it was like ashes after a fire. Ever since their habitat’s destruction, this mythical race had been burning their life force each day, and when the coronet could no longer restrain them, an outburst occurred.

And as that limiter vanished, the unchanged, powerful spiritual force of the Crown Clan would explode instantly, destroying everything around them.

They’d suffered a terrible loss when the first of their kind died completely, glimpsing hopeless fate from that moment on.

They struggled against destiny, believing they could overcome it. Yet as only two generations remained, despair accumulated bit by bit. Though still resisting, they began to accept this senseless fate—waiting for the Crown Clan’s complete extinction.

Destiny said they must fall—today.

But the Holy Cas Empire still stood.

At first, the Empire’s founding was simply because the powerful Crown Clan took issue with certain interstellar actions, protecting Holy Cas residents, who were then in dire straits.

Yet over the millennia, this place had become the home of the Crown Clan, and every resident of Holy Cas inherited their spirit.

They were already plotting the path forward for Holy Cas, after the Crown Clan’s eventual demise.

So accept this fate…

As his coronet broke down day by day, heading toward annihilation, Meilun thought unwillingly.

Until Meilun saw the light—

Amid the warm glow stood a five-year-old cub—dressed in the simplest white robe, chubby pale little hands stretching forward, soft black curls, a tiny face so pale under the light it was dazzling, delicate as a piece crafted by the Empire’s most perfect master.

The little coronet and halo shimmered above his head, thick, fan-like eyelashes seemingly studded with stardust, honey-like eyes clear and bright—within them reflecting Meilun’s own ugly, battered image.

What was this? An angel?

How could that be? No one ever recorded actually seeing an angel at death’s door.

With his coronet shattering, spiritual power running wild, Meilun was already dazed, awareness falling into the abyss bit by bit.

Then he saw the ‘little angel’ rush over, reaching out to grab his ‘head’… No, relying on that golden spiritual force, hands grabbed his split halo.

Wait, could that even be grabbed?

And just grabbing someone’s ‘head’ like that—where were his manners?

What now? A shattered halo can’t ascend to heaven? Even at death’s door, it needs patching up?

Meilun then saw this frowning little one seem to think for a second, tearful eyes working hard to push the pieces of his halo back together, golden spiritual force like glue. Meilun’s scalp tingled, but the sense of spiraling out of control slowly faded—it really felt glued together.

…Glued together??

Meilun: ??? Wait, did you really patch it up? And how did you even stick it back together?!

And this little one just called him…

Grandpa Meilun.

Ha, saying Grandpa Meilun just like Zao Zao…

……Wait, wasn’t he supposed to be dying????

Meilun’s spiritual power gradually calmed, smoothly guided by the spiritual halo, pushed back into the depths of his consciousness.

But the impact of spiritual collapse still caused Meilun’s vision to narrow.

No one in the Crown Clan had slept well for a hundred years.

Until this moment, it was as if he was drifting into a sweet dream.

Such gentleness—

When destiny pushed him down, a hand held him tightly, crying softly—

“Then let’s go watch the next snowfall together…”

“Grandpa Meilun!”

Little Chu Zao was still sprawled on top of Meilun. He didn’t know what was happening, only that—having a broken halo must hurt. If it could be put back together, maybe it wouldn’t hurt as much?

In the end, Little Chu Zao turned back from the little white ball to what he thought was his little angel form, instinctively reaching out, accidentally grasping Meilun’s halo within the light. At this moment, the little cub was still holding Meilun’s halo together.

He didn’t dare move, but watched Meilun slowly close his eyes, and finally couldn’t hold back his tears, large drops falling out in fear.

The small wings at his back folded gently at his sides, resisting the wind.

The little cub looked like a fluffed-up little white bird, curled up awkwardly in the corner.

All around were ruins, the corpses of the guard squad, a field of blood behind him, Meilun—life or death unknown—before him; all had once sheltered him.

This tiny cub had never faced such a storm, clutching Meilun’s halo, utterly at a loss.

His small body trembled, voice choking with tears, softly and helplessly, “Baba… Baba…”

I need to find Baba, find Baba, Baba will know what to do, Baba can save Grandpa Meilun…

Then the little cub sensed turbulence behind him. Little Chu Zao turned around in confusion.

The blood-soaked enemy’s body began to tremble and twist; the shattered space stone formed a small, distorted spatial hole, shredding the corpse, then sucking in everything around—rubble, plants, the colored snow drifting down, and the already-stiff bodies of the guards.

It gradually spread towards Little Chu Zao.

And Meilun’s unconscious body started tipping forward with it.

What was going on?

The little cub didn’t understand, but he tried with all his might to push Grandpa Meilun’s body back. He was too small—the effort was useless. In the end, he flared his wings wide, blocking Meilun with his own body.

Everything happened so quickly; in a flash, the spatial hole swallowed both Little Chu Zao and Meilun together.

The little cub instinctively hugged Meilun’s neck, and everything went dark.

In the next moment, that spatial hole was struck from above by spiritual power. The expanding hole froze for a second, then convulsed violently, turning into a tiny force that dispersed in a flash, blowing all the surrounding wind and snow away.

Amos arrived at that moment.

Everything had quieted. He stood at the very center, surrounded by the bodies of fallen guards.

He sensed something wrong; his return was already rapid. Most of the Crown Clan warriors were on the front line, pushing back the alien beasts brought on by the strange spatial distortion, and those who noticed something wrong here hadn’t had time to respond.

Partly because Meilun had handled things so quickly and everything ended so soon, Amos and the others had been a step too late.

Previously, no one imagined anyone would be so brazen as to attack the Holy Cas royal court. Even if they did, they’d never succeed; even a Crown Clan member with a shattered coronet was terrifyingly strong—the shattering only destroyed their own consciousness, their own ‘head’, their restraint, not their absolute power.

But here, within their clan, there was a small—cub.

Meilun’s remaining strength could protect Zao Zao, but on his way back, Amos had sensed—Meilun’s spiritual coronet was broken.

So where did Meilun take his own life? And where was Zao Zao?

Amos prided himself on his calm—

Yet his mighty spiritual power swept over the royal court inch by inch. Such a domineering act even drew displeasure from the other two nearly-shattered Crown Clan elders in the palace.

Other palace guards rushed in, horrified at the scene.

They saw Amos standing calmly at the center.

White wings folded slightly behind him, his black military uniform reeking of blood and killing, a silver-black spiritual longsword held with the point down, thick blood dripping from the tip. He looked frighteningly calm, yet made everyone’s skin crawl.

They saluted.

“Your Majesty!”

“Check their condition.”

Amos ordered.

“Yes!”

The guards throughout the royal court quickly checked and handled the scene. Seeing such bizarre deaths gave them chills.

“Send them to the medical center for examination.”

Amos gave the next order, his tone now carrying a trace of impatience.

No—

No Meilun, no Little Chu Zao in sight.

Not even the faintest spiritual trace.

Amos was forced to consider what his own spiritual power had just destroyed.

The development and research of space-jump technology relied on an extremely rare mineral.

The blood rain from the sky had stopped.

Though someone had exploited this cosmic wave to bring calamity to Holy Cas Star,

But this was Holy Cas Star, where the greatest number of Crown Clan members gathered. Putting down the disturbance wasn’t difficult.

About twenty minutes later, after finishing most tasks near Holy Cas’s first and second lines of defense, Anya and Frey rushed back—they, too, sensed Meilun’s spiritual coronet shattering.

Upon return, they only found Amos standing alone at the center outside Uncle Meilun’s room.

Amos had already combed the royal court inch by inch, including nearby areas.

He had found nothing.

For the first time, the poised alpha wolf of Holy Cas—the Crown Clan felt anxiety and unease.

“Brother!”

Anya was agitated, eyes red, fists clenched.

“Uncle Meilun’s coronet really broke? And that little one?! Where is he now? This can’t all be because of him, right?”

Anya had always thought Little Chu Zao was part of some plot against the Crown Clan, but deep down didn’t want to believe it. Logically, Meilun’s spiritual halo shouldn’t have shattered at this moment. He desperately wanted an answer.

“Anya, calm down.”

Frey clenched his fists, looking at Amos.

“Your Majesty.”

“There is no information.”

Amos finally closed his eyes, speaking in an even voice, looking calm on the surface.

Except the coronet atop his head still flashed, and spiritual power flickered around him, causing subtle spatial distortions.

“The enemy infiltrated using a space stone. The explosion produced a small-scale space jump. When I arrived, Meilun and Zao Zao were already gone. Meilun has a locator—it’s being tracked now.”

But the little cub had only just arrived and was unfamiliar with everything. They were unfamiliar with him, too, and hadn’t prepared even the most basic necessities for a cub. Even his room was arranged temporarily.

Little Chu Zao knew nothing about the place or their technology; he hadn’t even started exploring. They hadn’t fitted him with a proper locator either—many in the clan sensed something was off, but most still didn’t know the cub even existed.

Anya and Frey fell instantly silent.

Space jump?

That technology greatly reduced distances, but required precision—and only those with mature bodies could use it. Cubs in development were forbidden from space jumping.

Even with a starship wrapped around them and parents by their side, they weren’t allowed, let alone being randomly swept in.

The little one could easily be lost in the stars without help—maybe forever, drifting with nowhere to stop. And his physical constitution was dismal, far weaker than a Crown Clan cub of his age.

For the first time, arrogant, indifferent, cold Amos felt this way.

His heart twisted as if squeezed hard.

In his ear, the cub’s soft awoo—‘Baba!’

He lowered his lashes. “It’s my fault. I should have kept him by my side.”

That would have been the safest.

His arrogance left him clueless about how to treat a cub best.

Frey and Anya observed the outwardly-calm Amos in astonishment.

“Brother.”

Anya, with the worst temper, was now holding it in, looking like a furious beast ready to strike.

“The jump from the space stone wouldn’t take them far. I’ll go look right now.”

Frey reached out, stopping Anya: “Anya, wait—at least get Uncle Meilun’s position first.”

Meanwhile, silence reigned on board a starship far from Holy Cas Star.

After their chosen ‘pawn’ was shattered, the video went blank. Though it hadn’t caused mass pollution as planned to once again fatally damage the Crown Clan—the ‘pawn’ focused solely on Meilun, ruining the operation—they managed to glean enough from that final segment of footage.

“What was that?”

“Interesting, did I see it right? That was a Crown Clan… cub?”

“Hehe, hehehe… it really was. Did a Crown Clan cub actually appear?”

“We absolutely cannot allow that—”

“There are plenty across the interstellar world who hate the Crown Clan. This is a golden chance. I’ve already sent that last video out. Someone will surely look for them. Oh, maybe we should too? Snuff out the Crown Clan’s last spark…”

Before he finished, the video he sent was suddenly wiped; before he could react, the screen playing the last segment flashed with an alarm, snapping and crackling.

They’d been located!

Someone raised a gun and fired, blowing up the communications center.

“This isn’t the time to fight Holy Cas. For our sacred, glorious ceremony, we need to leave quickly.”

Someone was rapidly inputting coordinates, the ship speeding away, another gnashing his teeth, fiddling with his weapon, eyes full of malice.

“Holy Cas—Crown Clan—”

*

The three received information from a special department in the royal court.

They didn’t yet know about Little Chu Zao, but they knew Meilun.

As the Holy Cas Empire monopolized the star-net, posting any Crown Clan-related information or images was monitored and instantly traceable.

As soon as that video appeared, it was intercepted, lasting mere seconds on the net.

They also quickly located the sender and traced the source.

The starship wasn’t from this star sector. It had been distant from Holy Cas and running hidden mode, unnoticed until now. Its signal patterns were recognized.

It belonged to the most mysterious terrorist group in the galaxy—Hymn.

This group was extremely secretive, all members fanatically pious, targeting every immortal kind in the stars. With talented agents, their leadership unknown, many rare immortal races had perished at their hands—until their plans failed against the Crown Clan.

Many later assassination attempts against the Crown Clan involved this organization.

They saw the footage.

Meilun’s coronet shattered, raining down like black snow beside him. He pressed hard against the door, spiritual weapon pointed at his own throat.

The little cub’s awoo from inside grew choked, but before Meilun could act, transformed into a soft, clear baby voice, pounding on the door.

—“Grandpa Meilun! Let Zao Zao out!!”

Until golden spiritual power burst through, Meilun’s weapon vanished, and a thinly dressed five-year-old cub burst out, reaching—lifting Meilun’s halo, pressing the broken pieces back together.

“That’s… Zao Zao?” Frey said in surprise.

Behind, the turbulent space-jump vortex closed in.

The cub, flustered, pressed together Meilun’s halo, nestled close, softly and helplessly calling, “Baba… Baba…”

Until both were swallowed.

Everything stopped.

“Your Majesty, the video didn’t go viral, but someone may have seen it.”

A Holy Cas officer rushed in to report.

“They shouldn’t be far.”

Amos replied.

“Found Meilun’s signal yet?”

“Still searching!”

From the video, they couldn’t judge if Meilun was alive, or had self-destructed, letting spiritual power explode mid-jump, erasing all clues—that would make tracking impossible.

Spatially-warping spiritual energy gradually faded. Outwardly, he looked calm once again.

He stared at the Hymn organization’s name, scarlet eyes sharp as drawn blades, all leisure gone, knuckles whitening on his spiritual weapon—he was seething with rage, murderous intent barely restrained.

“Now, Ninth Army, assemble! Have their marshal see me,” Amos’s voice was calm, “Search continues, begin the hunt—sweep outward from the imperial planet. Tenth Army on defense, recall three nearby armies to intercept the Hymn group’s ship.”

“Yes!!”

The Holy Cas Empire’s territory was vast, with many outlying buffer planets, making the search range broad and time-consuming.

Amos had already boarded a starship, leading the search.

On a small world at the Empire’s edge—a buffer under Holy Cas’s protection, though far from the imperial planet—a blast shook the ground.

Usually chaotic, like a drifter planet, its laws meant crime didn’t run rampant.

Countless ruins crashed from the sky, rumbling violently.

Amid the falling debris, a snow-white small figure tumbled quickly downward.

Little Chu Zao felt he’d been rolling in a giant drum for ages, but didn’t pass out. He took in his surroundings, reacted fast, flapping his tiny wings hard to hover a moment—then dropped fast again.

Because Chu Zao’s wings hurt, both hands gripping Meilun’s halo tightly—honestly, compared to a cub’s, other Crown Clan halos were not detachable; no matter how hard the cub clung, the distance between unconscious Meilun and his halo didn’t change.

Still, being tugged by the halo, even unconscious, his body trembled reflexively—Zao Zao was holding your ‘head’, but best not to resist.

Above, countless bits of rubble kept falling.

The little cub staggered around, changing flight path, finally escaping the ‘ruin rain’.

He brought Meilun down in an open field.

Chu Zao, exhausted, plopped down on the ground, wings drooping, one limp and pitiful after the effort.

What had been neatly preened after parental care was now a tangled ball; blood streaked little by little through the feathers.

His arms and back—now showed many fine blood traces.

Except for the big injury on his wing, there were no major wounds elsewhere.

Even unconscious, Meilun’s danger sense let him cover the cub before the worst injuries hit.

Yet Meilun’s state was dire.

Though a mythical race, even they weren’t invulnerable, especially in the Crown Clan’s terminal spiritual phase, like a late-stage cancer: immune disorders frequent, physical balance shot, and body quality plummeting.

He was covered in gaping wounds, blood pooled everywhere. He’d worn plain clothes in the court, not military attire, and much of the blood had dried, but several wounds still bled continuously.

He was pale, completely unconscious, still as death.

“Grandpa Meilun.”

The cub ignored his own pain, carefully let go of Meilun’s halo, checking its condition.

It flickered—not shattered, apparently stabilized, fading slowly—the Crown Clan’s strong healing was closing Meilun’s wounds, little by little.

Chu Zao lay on Meilun’s chest, very carefully listening for his heartbeat—faint, but still there.

Chu Zao sighed in relief, all his strength draining away.

The exquisite five-year-old’s frail little shoulders quivered from holding in tears, one undamaged wing folding over to shield himself and Meilun from the cold.

“Grandpa Meilun… where is this place… Baba… where is Baba? What should Zao Zao do… Grandpa Meilun wake up, you’ve lost so much blood, Grandpa Meilun don’t die, Zao Zao fixed your halo for you, please wake up, wuwu…”

He really wasn’t a strong child.

Though he knew you had to be fiercer than those who bullied you, most times he’d quietly hide in his little nest and cry, then steer clear of scary things next time.

He’d take care of himself, hiding deep in safe territory.

Now, even his own halo’s glow had dimmed.

Big tears rolled down his cheeks.

The little cub wiped his eyes hard again.

That delicate face now smudged and dirty, soft little black curls messy, honey eyes brimming with grievance.

“No… can’t…”

But he consoled himself.

“Zao Zao can’t cry—”

The little cub wiped harder at his tears.

“Baba said—Zao Zao must grow up.”

He must endure more trials, must grow up—he was different now, couldn’t just hide and secretly cry like before. He had to protect Grandpa Meilun.

Grandpa Meilun only had Zao Zao now.

At the thought, the cub glanced around nervously.

He didn’t know when Amos would come, but remembered Amos had told him to hide the coronet and halo.

The outside world was dangerous for Crown Clan, Zao Zao wasn’t strong enough—Zao Zao remembered that.

The delicate little halo above his head faded and vanished, small wings folding up, and closing the droopy wing brought fresh tears to his eyes.

Chu Zao stood up. There was no snow, but the air was still cold.

He looked around, wanting to drag Meilun farther away.

Soon, Chu Zao heard a deep mechanical rumbling.

He’d never heard such a sound, and didn’t know what it meant.

The little guy stared at it warily—if his wings hadn’t been hidden, they’d surely be fluffed up by now.

A black shadow rushed closer in the deserted plain—Chu Zao placed himself firmly in front of the unconscious Meilun.

It rumbled across the wasteland, churning up dust, then braked close by.

—It was a heavy transport.

A giant bed in the front, body painted black, flag atop familiar to Chu Zao.

Two people jumped off, a man and a woman, looking slightly alike.

One checked the debris, one spotted Chu Zao and Meilun and walked over.

“I thought it was those thieves again, but it wasn’t? Why such a big commotion?” The man looked twenty-something, in black fitted shirt, navy athletic pants, wide legs stitched with silver.

Noticing Chu Zao’s wariness, he didn’t approach, just smiled from a distance, “Little one, how did you get here?”

Goodness!

Wen Qingfeng only then saw how gorgeous and adorable this little one was.

He automatically softened his tone, glancing at the unconscious man the boy was guarding.

“Where are we?”

Chu Zao blinked hard, wanting to sound serious in his babyish voice.

But he was simply too sweet—his earnest look painfully cute.

“This is Holy Cas Mining Planet No. 78. We’re the residents here. Did you run into trouble while traveling the cosmos and fall here? That’s my sister Wen Qingyu. I’m Wen Qingfeng. You can call me Uncle Wen…”

Still in Holy Cas!

Chu Zao relaxed a little.

“All this unknown debris looks like it came from buildings or… a starship? Can’t be sure. Still falling—must be a rare interstellar calamity.”

The woman came back from inspecting the debris, interrupting Wen Qingfeng, eyeing Chu Zao and Meilun in surprise.

“You came down with all of it? So much blood…”

“I, I—” Facing strangers, the cub mustered all his courage, “Can you contact the Holy Cas Imperial Planet from here?”

“Contact Imperial Planet?”

Wen Qingfeng raised his brows.

“You’re from Imperial Planet? We’re way too far for scattered locals to contact there; you’d have to go to the southern Holy Cas local military post. But that’s across half a planet. We’re mainly a mining site—reaching there would take us at least two days and a night with our capacity.”

“Oh…” Chu Zao nodded blankly. “I guess—that counts as being from Imperial Planet.”

Just happened to live in the royal court.

He was only five, far too young, and his companion was gravely wounded and unconscious.

The two looked at him, softening a bit. A cub seeking Imperial contact could only be Holy Casian; as fellow citizens, their wariness dropped considerably.

Yet both sides—local and cub—remained a touch wary.

The little one was spooked by the earlier ambush; he hadn’t shown his halo, still observing.

“Tell you what, little one,” Wen Qingyu said gently. “Why don’t we take you and your family for treatment first? He’s still bleeding—once he’s stable, we’ll bring you both to the southern post, okay?”

“Of course, we have outgoing ships here too, but they run every two days, and the base is quite far—this is no-man’s-land. Miners often sneak in, so we patrol—nothing of Holy Cas can be lost; we’d give glory for the sacred coronet!”

By the end she was a bit impassioned, quickly calming.

She kicked her brother, who fetched the medical kit from the vehicle.

Chu Zao blinked, still sitting on the ground, his face dusty, looking pitiful.

Wen Qingfeng mumbled as he scratched his head, carrying the kit to Wen Qingyu.

Wen Qingyu approached with bandages, step by step. Seeing the cub did not resist, she glanced at her brother.

“Bro, help stop his family’s bleeding and disinfect; I can smell blood in that ruined pile, could be a virus risk.”

Wen Qingfeng complied, reaching instinctively toward Meilun.

Instantly, Meilun’s hand shot up to stop him.

“Ah!”

Wen Qingfeng jumped.

The little cub, letting Wen Qingyu bandage him, immediately turned: “Grandpa Meilun!”

But Meilun’s eyes remained shut, unresponsive. Only at the cub’s voice did his hand lower slowly.

“Such wariness—”

Wen Qingfeng shook his numb arm, amazed at the strength from an unconscious man.

Meilun hadn’t been on the front for a long time, and most Crown Clan records and footage get locked every so often. His last active period was over twenty years ago; these two were not born yet. Living in such a remote place, they were always busy and rarely online.

They only knew the currently active Crown Clan; Meilun, they didn’t recognize.

This time Wen Qingfeng was more cautious.

Apparently, Meilun heard the cub’s voice and, this time, allowed him to approach, just tensing up like a leopard ready to spring.

“Wounds are deep and numerous; we can only handle basics here—”

Wen Qingfeng worked carefully.

“We’ll need to head for our temporary base, can’t handle this here—and it’s too risky for infection.”

That base housed young men from the surrounding families, jointly protecting this mining area.

Though most still lived in makeshift homes, it was better than treating in the wild.

Chu Zao only let Wen Qingyu disinfect his wounds a little, then draped himself over Meilun’s shoulder, softly, “Grandpa Meilun, are you awake? Say something to Zao Zao…”

Keeping his tears at bay.

“Baba will come soon… Baba always knows what to do. For now, Zao Zao will protect you…”

The little voice twisted Wen Qingfeng’s heart painfully.

He wiped his eyes.

“Come, little one, you come with me. Sis, help me over here.”

They lifted unconscious Meilun into the truck, Wen Qingfeng carrying the cub too.

Before loading Meilun, they checked the truck’s flag, then boarded.

Far away, the jump vortex finished fading, falling debris slowed, and the great metal beast revved up, swinging a tail of dust as it sped away toward their camp.

At the same time—

Countless starships departed Imperial Planet, fanning out, searching bit by bit in the vast cosmos.

The Imperial Army had not mobilized like this in a long time.

Amos stood on the starship bridge, eyes calm and dark on the display.

Meanwhile, his vast spiritual power blanketed the sector, searching for every trace, inch by inch.

No result, no information—

Where was the jumplanding point of that chaotic space jump?

No one knew, there were no relevant reports.

Most likely, it landed in the endless void.

If in empty space, even if Chu Zao survived the jump, he couldn’t last two days with his constitution.

Two days…

Amos’s hand by his side clenched tighter and tighter.

His emotions ran so high from using his spiritual power so recklessly his brain began to throb.

He even saw hallucinations before his eyes—

A soft furry white ball stuffed with fruit in his hand, back home holding up his bottle—“Awoo!” Baba, Zao Zao finished it all!

Curled up, sleeping anxiously, startled awake, called for him—Baba?

…

In the end, always that tender cub, shivering miserably, calling for him—

What was this feeling?

Amos thought he was going out of his mind.

His pain had never run so deep, even when his spiritual power raged out of control before.

And there was still no word from Meilun’s locator—two possibilities.

Meilun’s spiritual power had exploded, destroying his body.

Or they remained in jump space too long, and the signal had not bounced back yet.

All reason told them the first was more likely—Meilun had already collapsed, not possible to end things himself, coronet shattered—as all had seen. And a Crown Clan with a shattered coronet—was doomed to perish…

Amos clenched his teeth imperceptibly.

“Keep searching farther out—extend the search radius—”

Just as he issued the order, an urgent report burst in—

“Your Majesty!!! Lord Meilun’s signal is found!! On Holy Cas Mining Planet No. 78!!”