But wielding the halo to threaten others still made the Crown Clan members’ scalps tingle.
Especially as this pretty little fellow swung the halo back and forth, warning in a childish voice: “If you come closer, Zao Zao will still bash you.”
It overlapped with that earlier, tender little white ball’s awooo.
The feeling was quite peculiar.
Moreover, this little one bore grudges.
Frey frowned slightly.
From what he had observed, the little one, though very young and still in the stage of being curious about everything, must have grown up somehow; he seemed to have decided that as long as he had ‘touched’ something, felt uncomfortable, or experienced pain, he would absolutely not touch it a second time.
This was a form of self-protection.
Previously unnoticed, Anya, who had done everything against Little Chu Zao these days, had already been assigned by Little Chu Zao to a dangerous zone not to be approached—it was obvious he wouldn’t be able to come out of it anytime soon.
“I—”
Anya wanted to say something more.
But he was stopped by the wary gaze of the cub and by Frey behind him.
“All right,” Frey looked at the little wings behind Little Chu Zao bristling, knowing Anya certainly couldn’t get any closer, “will you wait outside the door?”
Anya finally stood up, glanced at the little cub again, said nothing more, and turned away.
His expression seemed calm as usual.
But his whole demeanor suddenly grew dejected.
“By the way.”
Frey looked at the little Chu Zao, starting to relax.
“The mine-guarding team on Planet No. 78 wanted to know about you. Some of them wish to meet you. Zao Zao, do you want to see them?”
Frey picked up the communicator to search through the list.
“There are only two names reported, both surnamed Wen.”
The mine-guarding team would receive due rewards for their bravery this time—medals and such, nothing would be omitted. Whatever they wanted to do in the future, with the empire backing them, things would go much smoother. If they didn’t want to leave the planet, the empire would provide everything they needed. And this was just the empire’s reward, not counting Amos’s personal gift.
Then he saw the little one’s eyes light up.
The little cub nodded.
“Yes! Yes! Zao Zao also wants to ask uncle and aunt if they got hurt.”
He shrank into a corner of the sofa, little snow-white wings half open behind him, shiny little halo, the whole cub was soft and adorable—just like a little angel.
Frey acknowledged the cub’s response.
“I’ll have the military bring them over.”
“Okay, Uncle.”
The cub nodded, speaking softly.
As he spoke, he looked at the table beside him.
On the table was the milk bottle Amos hadn’t had time to take away.
It had already been finished by Little Chu Zao.
But it really was strange—
The little cub touched his own belly.
Zao Zao had drunk a lot, so he should be full—yet why did he feel a little like eating again?
Strange, it didn’t feel like hunger… it was more like a craving, as if something was missing in his belly.
But Little Chu Zao couldn’t say exactly what was lacking.
Frey left the room for now, and summoned Wen Qingfeng and Wen Qingyu, who’d already reached the edge of the warship, to the flagship.
He also didn’t go inside yet.
He saw Anya crouching at the door.
“What’s wrong? You can’t take it?”
Frey looked at him.
Anya shook his head.
“I don’t know, it just feels weird—this shouldn’t be my feeling.”
Even after witnessing the recent events, Anya felt Little Chu Zao was not a threat anymore, and as the second brother’s bloodline, picked up by the second brother, he was now the steady little prince of the Crown Clan.
But essentially—this shouldn’t have much to do with him.
He knew he was not a nice person, even did it deliberately—he was one of the youngest of his generation, and since his birth, the Crown Clan of his great-grandparents’ generation faced collective collapse. For years, countless elders quickly perished, then the next generation swiftly faded, right up to his own.
It really was a desperate thing—to see friends and family die one after another.
Anya felt he didn’t have the psychological fortitude of other Crown Clan members—maybe he was among those whose crowns collapsed the fastest of his generation. He hoped to be finished early when in pain, and didn’t want to bring others more pain by becoming too close with friends and family.
Anya’s whole life had been preparation.
A preparation for his own departure.
So, Little Chu Zao not liking him was just as he wished.
But being bashed, being rejected, not only caused physical tingling and phantom pain in his heart, it was even more a kind of enormous—never before so clearly felt—sense of loss.
This feeling made him suddenly feel discouraged.
“I also feel like something’s wrong with our generation.”
Frey suddenly spoke.
Anya looked up at him.
By now, the Wen siblings had entered the medical room, while Frey leaned against the wall watching, giving them enough space.
“Our reactions to all emotions are too slow, self-centered, and we can’t respond to cubs as we should. I also realized this when I saw how Zao Zao treated the Wen siblings—”
A strange sense of disconnect, especially after hearing Little Chu Zao call him uncle—this cub softly called him uncle.
Something was changing between these two Crown Clans—and even before their change, Amos, who at this moment had already destroyed a thieves’ group base, was changing even faster.
In a state of stress, Amos couldn’t rein himself in after leaving the cub.
His powerful mental force swept away all before him.
He left not a single survivor, and most of the items at the base were damaged by him.
Crown Clan was like this. Back when they pitied and sheltered those pitiful earliest residents of the Holy Cas Empire, they’d already shown the world their strength—making others better understand what a mythic race was.
The entire Ninth Army Group of the Holy Cas Empire, and follow-up reinforcements, were advancing on the trail, gradually closing in on the Falcon Organization’s lair.
It had also panicked the opposition.
Meanwhile, aboard a small starship, Kaman leaned back in his chair, receiving yet another notification about a change of banquet venue.
Several empty nutrient drink cans sat at his side.
All were of the same brand and flavor—the very kind Little Chu Zao had thrown at him in terror before.
Kaman, who had once disdained it, finally finished that little can, and by some strange impulse, bought more when resupplying—by the time he realized it, the supplies were already piled up on the ship.
Of course, Kaman had made excuses for himself.
This was the best-selling nutrient drink in the area; if you were going to buy one, you couldn’t avoid it—it had nothing to do with that little cub of an unknown race.
But what was Amos doing?
Kaman watched the Holy Cas Empire’s actions.
He really couldn’t understand the army’s goal—deploying the entire Ninth Army Group against a little thieves’ organization just for Meilun?
Seriously?
Was it worth it?
Do they even deserve it???
And can’t they go a bit slower?
Meilun wasn’t even badly hurt, right? How big a grudge could they possibly have?
Or was this to catch him??
But that couldn’t be—it didn’t look like they were searching for him at all!!
Kaman scratched his head in distress.
He just wanted to find a good place for himself—he’d already decided to die, not wanting to return to the Holy Cas Empire, with no attachment to this interstellar world. No grand wish, just wanted to see how big of an explosion he could make, to blow these thieves to the sky—couldn’t even get that?!
“Really damn annoying—”
Kaman mumbled, digging through the intel networks.
Suddenly, he froze.
The stifled, irritable, and arrogant expression vanished, replaced by the same coldness and pride as the rest of the Crown Clan.
He stared at a piece of intel—
#Twin Crown Clan Lured into Polluted Zone, Disgruntled with Crown Clan Invite Beasts to Block Them#
Such intel circulated in the dark web, though most likely the Holy Cas Empire already knew about it.
Twin Crown Clan…
Even without pollution, the birth of Crown Clan cubs was harsh; twin Crown Clan were extremely rare. Now, there was only one pair left, the last in this generation; to Kaman, these two were still young.
But these twins, proud and self-centered, had quietly left the Holy Cas Empire to seek their own end.
Being lured into a polluted zone meant their bodies and minds were already extremely broken; with Crown Clan’s strength, it could only be by their own will, never forced.
Kaman read in silence, fingers flicking, moving the intel to the next page.
So, this was the fate they chose for themselves?
And rightly so.
They all knew their outcomes—it was only a matter of time. But these two should be the first and second in Amos His Majesty’s generation to die from crown collapse, right?
And once Crown Clan deaths began, the trend sped up, unstoppable.
The fate of Crown Clan was almost at its end.
He knew this.
He understood it deeply.
And he’d prepared his own way out—after the void of death, to reunite with past kin.
This was unquestionable.
So thought Kaman, but his hand on the desk slowly tightened until veins stood out.
*
Inside the medical room.
Wen Qingfeng and Wen Qingyu had met the little cub.
They saw the little glowing halo atop the cub’s head and felt somewhat restrained.
Before, in interacting with the cub, they always heard him say that once Baba came, everything would be all right.
More than all right!
Your Baba is the emperor of the empire, His Majesty Amos!!!
It was insane.
Wen Qingfeng and Wen Qingyu felt today had been more eventful than their past two decades.
Even after being chosen and sent as representatives to visit this little prince, they were still in a daze.
Looking at the outline of those features, the slightly curled black hair—he really did look a bit like His Majesty!
“Uncle, Aunt—”
The soft, fluffy little cub’s wings folded behind him, his round eyes clear, the earlier panic now calmed.
“Are you okay?”
“We’re fine, we’re all fine.”
“No real injuries, and all medical supplies have been distributed, only the best stuff.”
In fact, rescue from the main base had arrived swiftly. Just ten minutes after Amos picked up Little Chu Zao, the rescue team arrived fully armored, only to see the massive imperial Ninth Army Group.
The main base rescue team were just—??? Excuse us, weren’t we sent to carry out a rescue? Wait, what’s this? The empire’s army?? Who did you see? The emperor??!!
Wen Qingfeng and Wen Qingyu had never seen such a spectacle.
Later, watching on, they even grew numb—to this very moment.
Except for the extra little wings and little halo, the cub was the same, eyes clear, more calm now, less alarmed.
Wen Qingfeng and Wen Qingyu gradually relaxed, too.
Wen Qingfeng laughed heartily: “Little prince, didn’t I tell you before? Although the empire can’t take care of everything, it never wrongs us or gambles with the lives of Holy Cas citizens.”
Mythic races were very different from humanity, to be honest. When their ancestors sought shelter, they had never imagined that the Crown Clan would be such a merciful, powerful race.
They had ever-flowing supplies, stationed Holy Cas imperial troops, and the best defensive gear.
It wasn’t just gratefulness.
This was their basis for daring to fight the thieves so desperately.
The Crown Clan prince had visited them and thanked them personally—
At the time, Wen Qingfeng had said, it wasn’t that they were truly so kind or brave, but that the Crown Clan founded the Holy Cas Empire, took in them, the former drifters, and gave them citizenship and solid protection.
Only with all this could there have been today’s result.
It wasn’t chance, it was inevitable.
“That’s good.”
Chu Zao curved his eyes, smiling softly.
The little one looked a little awkward.
Besides gratitude, he didn’t know what else to say—for he used to always be someone left behind.
Now, it was different.
He wanted to give back, but the little cub rummaged carefully and found he really didn’t have anything to give.
“Zao Zao knew once Baba came, everything would be fine.”
“Oh, right,” Wen Qingyu watched a while, took out two pouches from her pocket, and handed them to the cub, “Little prince, these are for you.”
“What is it?”
Little Chu Zao blinked, took the bags, and peered inside, somewhat confused.
“One bag is roasted potatoes, the other fresh potatoes.”
Wen Qingyu seemed to find such gifts lacking; she scratched her head.
“After all, you probably have everything else. These are potatoes we’ve improved—they taste different, more fluffy and sweet. The raw ones, well, last time you said you’d never managed to grow anything, so maybe you could try these. Potatoes are very easy to grow; they thrive here with us.”
Wen Qingfeng couldn’t help glancing at Wen Qingyu, and the two exchanged looks.
Wen Qingfeng: See, I said giving potatoes was unreliable, yet you brought them? And want the little prince to plant them?
Wen Qingyu: We chose for ages, but this was the only unusual thing we had. We couldn’t just come empty-handed, right?
Their eyes met for two seconds.
The cub looked at the little yellow tubers and smiled with curved eyes.
“Okay!”
He looked up, curiosity shining as he asked, baby-fat face all cute.
“Can they really grow?”
The siblings returned their gaze, looking at Chu Zao’s little face, feeling a strange emotion—although with some differences, both were overjoyed in their hearts at that moment.
Finally Wen Qingfeng nodded: “They can. As long as you like them.”
The meeting didn’t last long.
Wen Qingfeng and Wen Qingyu still had patrol duties—though their team had given them leave, just having been rewarded, they were both full of energy and soon left the Ninth Army Group’s flagship.
Anya and Frey were standing together in the hallway, looking out at the starry universe, choosing not to disturb the cub’s rest again.
Little Chu Zao sat on the soft carpet, beside Meilun’s medical bed.
Meilun hadn’t woken up yet, his sleep deep and peaceful.
The cub stood up and looked for a while. Because the bed was high, he had to stand on tiptoe, making his little wings flutter open, clinging to the edge.
After a while, Little Chu Zao got tired.
He sat down again, staring at the two small bags of potatoes.
He touched his round tummy, thought for a bit, then took the potatoes over.
The raw potatoes were set aside.
The cub picked up a roasted potato, thought nothing of it, and took a bite with a small awooo.
He tilted his little head, munching.
It truly did taste better than the last potatoes he’d eaten.
The potatoes were small, just right to fill the cub’s little hand.
He could finish one in a few bites.
Little Chu Zao was waiting for Amos to return.
He just sat in a little nook.
Not on his little bed, nor on the sofa. This corner was beside Meilun’s bed, and from this angle, the small cub, whose sightline was low, could watch the door, but people entering wouldn’t see him at first.
Like a little animal, he hugged the bag of potatoes and munched.
No telling how long he chewed.
He’d eaten most of the bag—then let out a potato-flavored belch.
He was stuffed.
He was tired from chewing.
But he was still craving more.
Such a strange feeling.
Little Chu Zao touched his round, full belly, waiting to digest.
But he didn’t recover.
Not long after, while rolling around on the carpet, the cub fell asleep, curling up, with his little wings naturally wrapping around himself.
His halo gradually dimmed—hibernating.
At the same time, on the medical bed, Meilun stirred.
His fingertip trembled.
His eyes were still closed, but above his head, the reassembled silver-black crown began to reappear.
The coronet was still just a round halo base. Looking closely, traces of gold could be seen, like cracks—no, more like repair marks along the cracks, the color of the little cub’s halo, like an adhesive, sticking the broken crown halo back together.
And now, the golden glue holding the broken halo shimmered softly.
After a rare, deep, peaceful sleep.
Meilun began dreaming fantastical dreams.
Crown Clan’s lifespans were long.
Even polluted, heading for doom, they could last long, and even with shattered halos, they continued on for years.
Meilun dreamed of his dearest friends and relatives—most already gone in destiny’s flood.
As mighty as the Crown Clan were, in this long river, they were nothing but grains of sand.
Fate seemed to frown on their fortune, saying—you shall die when your crown breaks.
It was like a prophecy, or the final, predetermined ending.
All this made the proud Crown Clan feel suffocated, defeated, and utterly powerless.
Meilun, in a daze, kept on dreaming.
It was all like a carousel of images—
Suddenly, the scene shifted.
He was somewhere he’d never seen before.
A strange place, its borders fuzzy, like a sea of flowers.
Only, the center of the sea was bald.
Deliberately cleared, cultivated, as if something had been planted.
Meilun saw a small figure, clutching a broad green leaf in his hands, eyes bright as he carefully watched, lest the water within spill.
Pairs of snow-white wings fluttered behind, a familiar golden halo overhead.
Dressed in white—like the ‘angel’ he’d seen before his ‘death’—
No, Meilun realized.
This wasn’t an angel.
It was Zao Zao.
Meilun watched the little cub carrying the leaf, like a busy little bee, trip after trip.
Watered the small empty patch.
When all was done, he wiped his brow, childish voice—
“There, that’s right, isn’t it? It should grow now, right?”
He seemed to be craving, like swallowing drool.
“Tangy-sweet fruit, you won’t give Zao Zao any, Zao Zao will grow it himself!”
He seemed proud, chest thrust out, hands on hips.
Meilun realized this cub looked even younger than when he’d seen him.
And he almost instinctively recognized the issue.
The cub had clearly picked up farming skills from who knows where.
But with so much watering, nothing could grow.
Had no one told him?
Well, it didn’t matter, so what if it didn’t grow.
Kids are curious by nature—playing more is normal.
At this point, Meilun still didn’t realize what was happening.
Until everything sped up, sunrise and sunset, the cub working constantly, but in the end, nothing happened.
The cub sat confused with the broad leaf in the midst of the flowers, blankly watching the empty spot.
Until little angels picking flowers passed by—
“Are you planting flowers?”
They were curious, but looked at Little Chu Zao’s halo and didn’t come closer—all their halos were round and smooth, none turned into a white-ball little creature.
The cub paused for a long time before slowly speaking, as if making a decision.
“…No, Zao Zao is planting fruit.”
He wanted to ask more.
But the little angels spoke again.
“My dad said that little monsters without parents aren’t blessed by the God of Nature. You probably aren’t an angel, so you can’t grow anything.”
“Yeah, yeah, looks like our parents were right. You really aren’t a little angel, huh? Couldn’t grow anything after all.”
“Let’s go—”
The lonely cub watched them walk away, mouth slowly closing, the previously proud and confident little one drooping his head at last. For a long time—the little cub’s shoulders trembled lightly.
The scene flickered too.
Meilun, watching all this, felt rage rising: “No, you failed because nobody taught you, don’t water so much, it’s nothing else—what little monster? Those smooth-halo freaks are the monsters!”
The scene vanished.
Lying on the medical bed, Meilun’s eyelids twitched; he slowly opened a slit.
Fate?
Fate wanted him dead now?
How could he accept that!
He simply would not!
He—
Just then, the door of the medical room opened.
Amos returned, and the moment the door opened, he began searching for the cub.
But walking in, he really didn’t see Little Chu Zao curled up in the corner at first.
Finished venting, but unable to calm his nervous parenthood, Amos went on high alert.
His face calm, a powerful and violent mental force swept the room in an instant, and then Amos found the little cub sleeping curled in the corner.
Amos knew for sure Little Chu Zao couldn’t go missing here, but when he opened the door and didn’t see the cub, he couldn’t control his emotions.
The little cub, still asleep, seemed to sense something, his golden halo flickered slightly.
At the same time, Meilun, frantically fighting fate and trying to rise, was instantly suppressed by Amos’s forceful spirit, almost losing breath.
Meilun slowly caught his breath at last, and finally opened his eyes:…
Meilun realized whose psychic force that was—truly worthy of being His Majesty—
Fate wanted him dead, but he didn’t die.
What fate couldn’t do, His Majesty had almost done. 🙂