Kaman was moving quickly.
He was completely shrouded in shadow, his facial expression unreadable.
His goal was the starship docking area of this manor.
Because of agitation and rage, the crown that was already slowly fracturing was now forcibly suppressed by him. The feeling was extremely uncomfortable—his head felt about to burst, his vision even blurred.
But Kaman’s excellent combat skills let him accurately avoid every obstacle as he continued forward.
He needed to leave here now—
Whether to let his crown shatter and explode somewhere else, or to end himself in some deserted corner.
But never here—he didn’t want to explode here, nor let the Holy Cas Empire see him look this pathetic and wretched.
Kaman steeled himself. After leaving the Holy Cas Empire, he’d gotten used to relying on himself. His crown could actually have lasted longer, but he’d made things worse for himself than the Empire imagined through his own self-destructive tendencies.
He suddenly stopped.
He heard an unusual set of footsteps.
Not far ahead, by the flowerbeds near the starship dock.
Clearly, the other party didn’t know how to mask footsteps—they were light and lively, and very light in weight.
Kaman’s head was dizzy as he tried to think.
Hm, couldn’t be very tall.
The only odd thing was—the person would walk a few steps, then pause for a long while, then resume walking, the footsteps appearing elsewhere.
Still light, non-masked footsteps, not leaping.
More like—some young of a species playing nearby, using both wings and legs.
—Wings.
As a mythic species with wings, Kaman was sensitive to this.
Not many species have wings—but the Crown Clan would be the last to consider.
All those fantasies about cubs were just the frantic wishes of the clan for cubs in recent centuries. There were no more!
There were no more cubs!
Only people like Meilun who refused to face reality, clinging to hopelessness instead of finding a new solution.
Kaman only hesitated for a moment.
He stepped forward again, as decisively as when he left the Holy Cas Empire.
He was of the Crown Clan, but not like the others anymore.
He wanted to live and would use any means—but if he must die, he wouldn’t do it like the others—making it look pathetic.
Even without support, he’d do it himself.
Then Kaman saw, on the path to the starship dock, the small figure he’d just heard.
A five-year-old cub circling the flowerbeds, a few pretty little flowers in his hands. At times, he found something he liked, and his little snow-white wings would flutter, flying into the heart of the flowers, tiny head poking in to look.
Kaman froze, going completely stiff.
He recognized that face—he’d seen it at Meilun’s side.
He even had some nutrient drinks in his pocket right now, bought because of this little one.
Now Kaman looked at the snow-white little wings and the golden halo overhead.
The splendid crown wasn’t broken; it was a gold the Crown Clan had never seen before. The patterns and lines looked so familiar, like he’d always seen them, but he couldn’t recall when.
But why would Meilun’s cub appear here…?
More importantly—could this really be a Crown Clan cub?
Kaman felt a chill tingle up his scalp.
The way Crown Clan cubs were born had already disappeared. He couldn’t tell whose cub it was, but as far as he knew, the Crown Clan would never leave a cub alone like this.
Then again, maybe.
Kaman considered how the Crown Clan of this generation were so indifferent about cubs; countless facilities and privileges for cubs had all been abolished.
If this was a cub of this generation, maybe they really would be bad as parents.
Little Chu Zao sensed the sound to the side and glanced over instinctively.
Clear, amber eyes blinked.
“Baba! Baba!”
The little one turned and ran without a second’s thought.
Calling out as he ran.
Little Chu Zao remembered Kaman.
He hadn’t seen Kaman’s crown, but he’d seen Kaman’s wings.
He was a very unfriendly adult, and treated Grandpa Meilun poorly.
Baba had said—these things, Zao Zao could hand over to Baba!
The cub’s little wings fluttered, flying to the side.
Still clutching the colored flowers—like a little butterfly.
Not long ago, Anya had managed to leave the group, handling some thieves elsewhere by himself.
Amos and Frey decided to take a path likely to intercept Kaman.
They were in no hurry, waiting here. Finding the pretty flowers, they let the little one play.
The real action hadn’t started—the “door” hadn’t fully closed.
This time the Holy Cas Empire was determined.
Since they’d found them, the plan was to wipe them out completely!
Kaman couldn’t help but watch the little one’s flying path, and found it a bit funny.
He took two steps forward, wanting to know who the cub called “Baba” was.
Golden crown, at this age, not like any normal Crown Clan cub—must not have been born the old way. Did they find a new way to have cubs?
The next moment, a strong, cutting wind hit savagely.
Kaman dodged, stumbling several meters to the side. He looked at the marks in the ground as if cut by an axe. In the instant he dodged, a familiar figure stood upright in the smoke.
Wearing the black Holy Cas military uniform, Frey’s face was cold as always, and the Crown Clan insignia on his shoulder shone faintly. His hair hung smooth, swaying in the wind, and his crimson eyes slowly lifted to meet Kaman’s gaze.
“Uncle Kaman, long time no see.”
“So…it’s His Highness Frey.”
Kaman squinted to recognize him, standing slouchily, wearing casual sportswear, not well-kept, a hint of stubble on his chin, hair gray-white and unhealthy, one hand in his pocket—still looking relaxed.
“I heard His Majesty Amos is here too? That cub earlier—what’s up with that? You guys make a new cub-birth method? The elders in court must be delighted. I guess Meilun got into that mess to protect that cub, right? Is it yours…?”
“No, Zao Zao isn’t my cub.”
Frey only blocked Kaman’s route. Always cold and steady, like an unfading iceberg, his expression now carried just a hint of…sympathy?
The words had barely left his mouth when Kaman hadn’t caught the look in his eyes—
Suddenly the hairs on his neck stood up. He twisted urgently, hand shooting from his pocket to block—a can of nutrient drink fell out as he did.
Fear on his face, a mental blade swept past his shoulder, so sharp a few hairs floated down. His shoulder was almost skewered.
No matter how fast the Crown Clan healed—they couldn’t keep doing this!
The one who appeared behind him, without doubt, was the ruler of Holy Cas—Amos Dwight.
Amos carried the cub Kaman had just seen in one arm, a spiritual sword in his other. The magnificent, fractured crown on his head loomed oppressively, the intricate design bearing the Dwight family’s signature motifs—no wonder Kaman thought that little golden crown was familiar, it was almost identical to Amos’s!
Damn!!
Frey, he could maybe handle.
Amos?
Fight Amos? Seriously???
And in cub-guard mode? He wasn’t one of those Crown Clan without a sense of their own limits.
Kaman instantly understood why Holy Cas would go all out against the Falcon thieves.
A Crown Clan member guarding a cub—you can’t imagine how wild that could get. Right now, Amos was like that.
He’d run right into a gun barrel.
“Kaman.”
Amos considered.
“Shall we tie you up and take you back, or fight it out right here?”
Even this autocratic tyrant felt a touch of democracy when facing a clan traitor.
He asked for Kaman’s opinion.
Kaman: …”Tell me, what’s the difference?”
He even glanced at the cub.
Chu Zao, held by Amos, poked his head out curiously, seeing a nutrient drink can on the ground—the one he’d never tried before.
Amos explained above the cub.
“If we tie you up, no fighting. Or, we fight here, and then tie you up.”
So really, it was just getting beaten up.
“You sure you want to say all this in front of the kid?”
Amos looked down.
Chu Zao looked up.
Amos considered, then set the cub on the ground, covering the cub’s ears.
“I can beat you until you surrender, Uncle Kaman, then take you back.”
Kaman: …You think maybe it’s a little late to cover his ears?
Chu Zao, ears covered: ?
“Baba, Baba—”
He spoke softly.
The cub was honest.
“Zao Zao heard everything just now.”
“Act like you didn’t. You’re not old enough for life lessons in that area yet.”
Amos thought a moment, telling this to the cub.
Five-year-old, so small, not even up to Daddy’s thigh, nodded doubtfully.
Okay. Whatever Baba says is right.
Who teaches kids like this?! What kind of life lesson is this, the art of beating up elders???
Kaman found it all ridiculous, but at last reached out his hands for Frey to fasten special restraints around his wrists.
He looked at Amos leading Chu Zao by the hand.
Had he not understood Amos thoroughly enough before?
Kaman thought Amos even had a bit of dry humor.
A little, but not much.
Ten minutes after Kaman was caught, the manor’s alarms sounded.
Holy Cas troops streamed in.
Well prepared, the army took over all routes in moments.
The thieves so lost in their false dreams didn’t even wake before being swept away.
Amos went around with Chu Zao, while Frey managed a disgruntled Kaman.
For the cub’s well-being, Amos stayed away from bloody scenes.
He just patrolled the manor, keeping control, tracking that sly Falcon leader.
As expected, the enemy, who’d escaped many times before, had a keen sense for danger.
Falcon had sensed something was wrong and vanished—the reports all said he wasn’t spotted.
Soon after Kaman left the banquet, Falcon was gone too.
“There are lots of civilian ships here. Just seal the exits and search.”
Kaman couldn’t be bothered to try escaping anymore. Once, he might have tried to fight fiercely and leave in style, never to look back.
But running into Amos had changed things.
Kaman couldn’t even be bothered to resist.
After he spoke, Amos’s crown glowed faintly.
A fierce mental force spread out in an instant.
It was a planet, and not Amos’s own territory.
No matter how strong, Amos couldn’t scan a whole planet—and even doing this was a big tax on his crown, which looked stable but was still shaky.
Not just brutal—downright mad!
Kaman watched Amos hand the cub to Frey, though always leaving a thread of mental force in place.
Amos’s huge wings spread, vanishing in a blink.
Far above, among the fleeing civilian ships, one suddenly exploded, as if violently ripped apart from the outside.
Frey’s back tensed a little, holding Chu Zao’s tiny hand with one, managing Kaman with the other.
But Kaman just stared at the sky, muttering, “Lunatic.”
He thought he’d been crazy enough, but this was crazier.
“What’s up with him? Why do I feel like his mood’s off?”
Chu Zao looked up too, watching.
Frey said nothing, but knew well—Amos was still in a stress response. The anger hadn’t dissipated, though he appeared calm.
Really…a calm rage.
After sensing danger, Falcon immediately fled the manor.
His keen instinct let him dodge disaster many times and rebuild his gang.
But today was different.
He was already close to the atmosphere, hoping to slip out disguised among civilian ships.
But at the last moment, his ship was violently torn open.
He turned back in terror.
Someone boarded the craft.
With a casual swing of a spiritual sword, a wave of sword energy made people’s hearts tremble.
Amos looked at him without emotion, didn’t even bother to talk, simply raised his hand and struck.
Falcon didn’t even have time to dodge.
Blood poured from Falcon’s mouth. Even as his panic ebbed, madness filled his gaze, and he grabbed Amos’s energy blade.
“So arrogant…Crown Clan…”
He spoke, battered, bleeding freely.
Mental force is a person’s ultimate power, weapons forged of it are the strongest of all; even high-tech arms are nothing before true psychic weaponry. Direct mental attacks are dangerous to humans—hence such invincible mythic races.
Crown Clan are among the few who make weapons of mental force, placing them at the top of the galactic food chain.
They are proud of their power, proud of their mental weapons.
‘God’ has said—this is a sin.
The sin is—pride.
Meanwhile, as Falcon’s life waned, in a certain Hymn Organization ship—one that had slipped through the Empire’s net—alarms sounded.
“What happened?”
“One of our pawns is dying before we could fully use him.”
“What?”
“Falcon. Senior cultist. With mental force and heart, he extracted and cultivated a substance that accelerates psychic chaos—this stuff takes a decade to harvest a tiny amount, it was supposed to be the Crown Clan’s ultimate downfall, but it’s triggered early.”
That person stared at the readings.
“But here’s good news—he encountered a Crown Clan; the trigger was Holy Cas’s emperor, Amos Dwight. If Amos’s mental force was already unstable, he may soon go into a greater rampage—he’ll rush toward doom even faster!”
“Splendid—let this storm be another anthem for ‘God’!”
Amos also sensed something was wrong.
Falcon had some kind of problem—his spiritual sword, which should have come out easily, was stuck.
In Falcon’s last moments, he muttered—”Mythic tribe destroyed…the true god comes…praise, for…the god…”
A substance left in Falcon’s body abruptly clung to Amos’s blade.
Amos’s vision suddenly twisted, and for an instant, his mental force spun out of control—the kind of slip that only happened every few years.
And the last time had just passed, the very loss of control where Amos had found Zao Zao.
Amos snapped back, shattering the body before him with psychic force, breaking free from that power, yanking his blade free in a flash.
The blade tip landed with a clang, supporting Amos’s weight.
With its pilot dead and the systems ruined, the starship hung for a moment in the air and began to fall.
Amos withdrew his sword, steadied himself, glanced coldly at the lifeless Falcon.
Thinking about Falcon’s last words.
Amos snorted, laced with unhidden disgust and negativity: “Idiot.”
He spread his wings again, leaping from the ship.
It was all over in a flash.
After the Ninth Army Group’s alert went out, no one had time to react.
Not only Holy Cas’s citizens, but other empires, alliances, and drifters.
Holy Cas had struck hard again?
Weren’t the Crown Clan supposed to be at the end of their road?
And the citizens were excited.
—His Majesty and the princes all seemed very lively.
The starsphere buzzed with discussion.
But none of this reached Chu Zao.
The little cub had waited only a short time before Amos returned.
Amos seemed vented, calmer again—at least, in front of Zao Zao and his kin, always dependable.
The cub understood now—stopping Amos’s darkness and breakdown was mostly about the psychic crown’s ruin, and paid close attention himself.
Zao Zao wanted to be a happy little angel!
Amos gently enfolded the cub in his arms, glancing at Frey and Kaman.
Level tone, not a hint of anything amiss: “Let’s return.”
But as Amos picked him up, the cub blinked and ducked his little head, sniffing Amos all over.
Like a soft little beast cub.
Right then, searching for the familiar parent-scent.
Because he was so focused on sniffing,
His little wings spread, the halo gleaming, flashing—deep in thought.
“What’s wrong?”
Amos asked, puzzled, as he was sniffed all the way back to the flagship, ready to head out.
The little one kept sniffing him.
Amos looked down at the cub.
The soft kid blinked big eyes.
“Hard to say—”
His voice was soft and childlike.
“Baba, Zao Zao feels like you don’t smell quite right, but I can’t say why.”
A tiny bit bitter.
But on close sniffing—not really.
It was a feeling the cub had never had before, and he felt a bit lost.
“Amos, we’re on the way back to the Imperial Star, you should relax a bit and not keep Zao Zao in your sight every second. This is the Ninth Army flagship, with me and Uncle Meilun here. Nothing will go wrong.”
Frey eyed the blood stains on Amos’s clothes.
“I know, I’ll go clean up.”
Amos could also sense his mental force being tugged, needing more effort than usual to control it.
He didn’t hesitate. He set Chu Zao down on the plush carpet and patted the little one’s soft hair.
“Daddy will come feed you your milk soon. Play here with uncle and Grandpa Meilun, all right?”
“Okay.”
The cub nodded.
Amos turned and left, running almost right into Meilun on his way out.
In the room were the cub, Frey and the restrained Kaman.
Kaman had calmed a bit, though clearly at the end of his life.
“Kaman!”
Meilun’s fists clenched.
Kaman, once brought up, now slumped against the wall. He hadn’t said a word until Meilun’s voice made him look up.
He offered a rather mocking smile.
“Meilun, and to think you were right—you really do have a Crown Clan cub in the end.”
He meant Zao Zao.
Little Chu Zao blinked his big eyes at Kaman, then quietly tattled to Grandpa Meilun: “Grandpa Meilun, last time this guy was touching you all over when you were asleep—”
The cub’s voice was soft and childish.
Meilun came close: “Grandpa knows! He’s a scoundrel!”
“You’re the scoundrel.”
“You know how sad Auntie was when you left? You had no idea, you never even came back! When Auntie’s crown shattered, you didn’t even send word!”
“…We didn’t understand one another; this ending was inevitable.”
“Don’t tell me you didn’t even—”
“Meilun! Don’t push it! Just because you caught me doesn’t mean you’re right and I’m wrong!”
Kaman, slack a moment ago, was finally provoked and now furiously snapped back.
Still, for all their proper upbringing, the two of them went at each other, tit for tat.
The little cub who’d just tattled suddenly bewildered: Eh?
When this one spoke, he looked that way; when that one spoke, he looked the other; his little halo spun “biubiu” in confusion—the whole cub bemused.
They’re…quarreling?
Was it about Zao Zao?
What should Zao Zao do…?
Until Meilun, feeling a bit flustered as he lost the argument, suddenly brightened and smiled: “Zao Zao, shoot this fool with your little bow!”
“Ao, ao—”
Following Meilun’s suggestion, the little cub summoned his tiny bow, aimed at Kaman and shot an arrow.
Only then did he belatedly wonder—eh? Was that not so good?
Kaman watched as the weak psychic arrow drifted in, feeling like a mosquito bite, a mere tickle.
“Ha, you don’t think that’s going to win you the argument, do you? I must say, Meilun, your communication skills are as terrible as ever…”