Meilun crossed his arms, watching him at ease.
There was something subtle in this attitude—Kaman couldn’t quite say what felt off.
But before Kaman could finish his sentence,
In his eyes, Meilun began to change—
That tall posture never bent, the elegant silver-white hair, the chiseled features—he was every bit the noble gentleman. He wore the Holy Cas military uniform that Kaman hadn’t worn in so long, adorned in sparkling, splendid decorations, noble from the inside out.
Kaman’s words faltered—how strange.
It was as if Meilun was glowing, and besides, something was really weird—
“Meilun—”
Kaman couldn’t help but stare at Meilun.
“Your eyes are the brightest rubies, I could drown in them… Something’s wrong, I think I kinda… eh?”
Little Chu Zao, holding his tiny bow: …
Meilun, on the receiving end of a ‘passionate confession’: …
Kaman, realizing what he’d just done: …
To be fair, even the previous generation’s Crown Clan, with its gentlemanly upbringing, handled things better than Amos’s rushed generation. When Anya’s brain switched off, he could still instinctively say “I love you,” but when it came to Kaman—his “I love you” just took another form.
And, honestly—more gross!
Kaman stared blankly at the world: What did I just do? What did I just say? To whom??? Meilun?!
Meilun’s eyes also went wide.
“No no no no no, stop talking, you’re making me want to gouge out my own eyes.”
Brightest rubies, my ass—
Damn, this is hurting the enemy a thousand at the cost of eight hundred to yourself!!!
A simple “I love you” was never so potent!!
At least with banter, you could tease back, “Love you, too,”
Like when Anya and Frey sparred.
Meilun had meant to mock him, to make the sharp-tongued fellow eat some loss—Meilun had never beaten Kaman in an argument, not before Kaman left, not now after catching him.
But things never go as planned.
Meilun shuddered in disgust, feeling thoroughly nauseated—gone was his anticipation for a good show.
All he could think: I’m sullied, I’m sullied… My eyes are sullied! I’ll never look at rubies the same—they’ll always remind me of Kaman’s greasy “drown in your eyes” look.
Ah!!!!
Little Chu Zao sensed the collapse of both adults, clutching his Cupid bow, and took two cautious steps back.
“Grandpa Meilun—”
The cub’s soft voice sounded.
“Do—do you need Zao Zao to do it again?”
If you don’t go along, you’re not happy—If you do, you still aren’t…
The cub blinked—adults are so hard to please.
Meilun weakly waved his hand. “No, no need—”
“You tricked me?!”
Kaman suddenly looked at the little cub holding the bow.
“What is that? A psychic weapon? You already chose a mental weapon at your age? And what just happened? How can your psychic weapon manipulate someone’s emotions?!”
“Zao Zao’s mental force is special—that’s its characteristic, manipulating emotion is the same as manipulating your mental force.”
Meilun kindly explained to a Kaman whose world had just collapsed.
“But now that you mention it—”
Meilun turned to look at Zao Zao, who sat clutching his bow, shrouded by his wings.
“Zao Zao, is that all your psychic bow can do? What do you think about when you shoot?”
The cub’s mental attribute seemed absurd to them. So much had happened so fast, without a chance to breathe, and Zao Zao had been recovering, so there was no time to explore his potential.
“Th-think about?”
Chu Zao grasped his bow.
He was a little angel—when he first got the Cupid bow, he thought of himself as a cherub, spreading love and peace.
“I focus on aiming, and of course on world peace and love.”
He’d normally pause to think before replying, but here he seemed more confident.
After all, Zao Zao failed at most things—but here, every single time it worked, though never for long.
Meilun pondered.
The cub looked down at his beautiful bow.
His shiny bow hadn’t been used much.
Zao Zao once hoped—someone could love Zao Zao.
So there was a Cupid bow.
But Zao Zao’s arrows were seldom aimed at anyone to be loved by them.
He’d be disliked…
He remembered as a child, showing his new bow excitedly, telling the other little angels about his power.
Longing for praise like every angel after receiving a power.
But what he got were odd looks—
‘What? You want to aim your bow at us?’
‘No angel does that, you’re not like us, what little angel even thinks that? Even if you can take off your halo, you’re still not like us.’
‘Go away, go away, he’s not only aiming his bow at us, he won’t let us dislike him… He can’t be an angel, right?’
‘…He really is like a monster… I don’t understand…’
Even the archangel personally warned him—not to aim his bow at others, not to harbor harmful thoughts, or he’d be banished from the angelic realm.
After that, Zao Zao put away his little bow, curled up on his tree nest, head down, tears dropping on his bow, wondering what was wrong—
He’d never harmed anyone—so why did everyone hate him?
Afterwards, he was afraid to hold the bow.
Even attacking, he always thought—love and peace.
The bow became purely a Cupid bow—this quality made it so natural for him, he could use it without thought.
But now, these new family members didn’t seem afraid of his bow’s harm at all.
Meilun finished thinking: “Zao Zao, try switching it up—see if you can reverse your bow’s attribute.”
Zao Zao blinked.
Meilun had a great idea.
Kaman, in the corner, shivered: “What are you doing?”
Just as Frey and Anya came in, overhearing Meilun’s good idea—to have Zao Zao try firing an arrow powered by hatred.
So Meilun, who could never win an argument, might finally score off Kaman.
“Can—I do that?”
Zao Zao hesitated, plump-cheeked.
“Try it,” Meilun limbered up, “After all, we’ll have to figure this out sooner or later. Let’s test it now, so you’ll know your range. Oh, and if I start making gross confessions again, Frey, Anya—cover my mouth.”
Frey and Anya looked interested and willing.
So it goes—put people together and you get bad ideas.
“Then Zao Zao will start thinking—”
The cub pulled the bow, closed his eyes, and tried to change his mind and attribute.
Love and peace—no, no, no. Hatred… hatred… doesn’t work—Ooh… love and hate?
Kaman yelled, “Does anyone care about my opinion?!”
“You’re a traitor. In Holy Cas traitors have no rights.”
Meilun said coldly.
The cub’s arrow flew.
The arrow struck Meilun.
He hesitated a second.
Frey and Anya were ready to hold him, when Meilun’s voice came out, gloomier, with malice.
“You’re a thorough scoundrel.”
Kaman: …
That’s fine, at least nothing gross.
Meilun strode over, looking down on Kaman.
“You call others cowards, but you’re the selfish, cowardly one—you don’t deserve family, Kaman, I look down on you! You ought to be locked up and properly taught, so you can stop affecting my feelings, making me…”
Kaman’s face, already dark, went blank—
The twist at the end had caught Frey and Anya unawares.
Zao Zao, still not skilled: …
Just then, the door opened, Amos entered, just in time to hear that.
Amos: …?
Zao Zao’s bow vanished at once, and he ran over, hands out: “Baba, Baba.”
He was a little anxious, wanting to crawl into Dad’s arms.
“Hug.”
They’d made him do it! Zao Zao was just an innocent little angel!
Amos instinctively bent to pick up Little Chu Zao.
And the room fell dead quiet.
Meilun was a gentleman, and even as an insult, that was over the line. Even at his angriest, he wouldn’t say such things to Kaman. The first part had been just as he planned, but the latter part took a freakish turn!
It got so melodramatic!
Meilun clutched his head in shock.
What was this, a love-hate drama?!
“Kinda… spicy?”
Amos summarized, thoughtfully, looking from Meilun to Kaman.
“Uncle Meilun, so you…”
“No no no no—”
Meilun waved frantically.
He was done! Not playing anymore!!!
Kaman was falling apart—scolding, not scolding, he couldn’t win.
“Please, can you just lock me, a traitor, in solitary?”
Kaman finally got sent to solitary.
As he was taken away, he looked relieved.
Meilun, feeling deeply traumatized, slid off to the medbay.
Amos, after hearing the story, was at a bit of a loss himself, so he simply sat with the cub while he worked.
The cub’s mental trait actually wasn’t so simple—including the power to hold a Crown Clan’s crown, or repair one.
That would have to wait for future observation.
The cub’s milk had been brought up.
Chu Zao, seeing he wasn’t in any trouble, relaxed, and couldn’t help sniffing Dad again.
That faint bitter scent—still there.
Very indistinct.
Chu Zao was a little worried.
“Baba—”
But he wasn’t sure what exactly he was worried about.
Or perhaps he just had a bad feeling; he couldn’t tell what was wrong with Amos.
“Hm?”
Amos replied.
Previously Amos had only seemed relaxed and proud; now there was something colder, though not with the cub.
He checked the milk’s temperature, and before the cub could speak, put the bottle in his mouth.
He was becoming skilled at feeding Little Chu Zao, movements gentle.
Frey and Anya, busy with their own tasks, couldn’t help stealing glances.
Amos held the bottle, letting the cub’s little hands grip it as he drank energetically, cheeks flushing.
Finishing the sweet milk, the cub smacked his lips and curled up obediently in Amos’s arms—somewhat “milk-drunk.”
Put simply, after eating his fill and all the fuss of the day, he was sleepy.
As the electronic stylus tapped on the tablet, the little cub gradually drifted off, nestled in Amos’s embrace.
The soft, innocent young life gradually calmed the three Crown Clanners.
On the table, the flowers picked by the little one had been placed in a vase, bright and alive—the only bit of vivid color in this grayish setting.
“Amos, we’ve found the location of Joab and Joshua. Joshua’s apparently in very bad shape, and Joab is falling into madness too. Should we go after them?”
Frey sounded troubled, lowering his voice.
Clearly, he knew that once their generation of Crown Clan started breaking, the process would sweep through like wildfire.
“…Let’s confirm their precise situation again. They’re in the pollutant zone.”
Amos had to expend even more effort than usual controlling his psychic power, and even as he focused on documents, he’d spare a hand to adjust the sleeping cub’s position. He answered Frey with a half-beat delay.
Frey noticed.
“Amos? You’ve seemed off since you got back.”
“Falcon was a disciple of Hymn—the organization. Just a minor incident. I can still control myself. Besides, isn’t Zao Zao here?”
Amos spoke calmly.
“I’ve already had related data collected.”
“We’d best hurry back to Imperial Star and get your mental force checked.”
Frey and Anya looked over at the same time, suppressing their own unease.
Amos was always like this, shouldering everything himself—after all those he lost, he demanded the utmost of himself as a leader.
He said that Zao Zao was there.
But until the matter of the cub’s crown was confirmed safe, both Frey and Anya were sure Amos would never let anyone else handle Zao Zao.
Frey thought: No one can make His Majesty yield—
Softly, the cub turned in the king’s arms, little hand clutching Amos’s shirt.
Dreaming: “…Baba…”
Amos looked down. For that instant, his icy face seemed to melt.
Frey paused in surprise.
Suddenly, he wasn’t so sure: No one can make His Majesty yield…can they?
*
It took about a day and a night to return from the edge of Holy Cas to the Imperial Star. On the way there they’d rushed with all means, cutting it to half a day, but for the return trip, with the cub and wounded, no special tech was used.
The cub slept deeply, and after two rounds about the ship, they were back in Imperial territory.
The Imperial Star was calm again.
All trace of the previous attack seemed erased.
There was no snow falling today, but drifts outside were deep.
Chu Zao was carried home by Amos.
Steward Mori hurried up.
Though news had reached them already,
It was only seeing His Majesty, the princes, and the little prince safe that Mori truly relaxed—then he looked at the soft cub, thinking, Yes, he really does resemble Amos.
Father and son, both with identical curls; eyebrows, nose, mouth much alike—just that Chu Zao was cuter, more infant-like.
“Grandpa Mori.”
Chu Zao in Amos’s arms, not set down this time, met Mori for the first time this way, greeting him obediently.
“Ah, ah, it’s good for you to be back safe, little prince, safe and sound!”
Mori couldn’t help dabbing his eyes.
“Your Majesty, we’ve already made clothes in his size—perfect for playing in the snow, and plenty of toys.”
Amos nodded.
It was cold outside, so he kept the cub wrapped up.
He soon brought Chu Zao inside.
The cub changed clothes and now sat obediently on the plush rug in the hall, picking out toys.
“Later, call in Tenth Army commander Changle, and the ministers of military and finance. Where’s the casualty list from the guards?”
Amos glanced at the cub.
His mental force spread through the palace, only avoiding the dangerous halls whose crowns were near breaking; he felt at ease letting the cub play.
But his head was aching again, from the strain of controlling his power.
“Have the palace doctor come at once.”
Frey gave a low-voiced reminder, glancing at the cub on the plush rug.
On the way, the cub had been circling Amos, as if sensing something wrong.
At last, with everyone more relaxed, none of the Crown Clan wanted to put their tension and helplessness on the five-year-old.
“I’ll go see Kaman, I have something to give him.”
Meilun rose with resolve, letting Amos know.
Kaman remained in solitary, not having been let out; Chu Zao hadn’t seen him since.
The cub turned, big eyes blinking.
“Grandpa Meilun.”
The cub’s soft voice sounded.
Meilun paused.
“What is it, Zao Zao?”
Since that incident, Meilun looked at the cub with even greater affection now.
Not just because he was a Crown Clan cub.
“Zao Zao wants that nutrient drink.”
The cub gestured.
“Nutrient drink? The one from Kaman’s pocket?”
Meilun asked, puzzled.
“Zao Zao threw one at him before and wants to try it.”
The five-year-old cub stood below everyone’s knees, his thin little arms and hands especially tiny compared to Crown Clan adults.
He mimed the earlier incident.
Chu Zao had never tried that drink—it’d been taken by Kaman.
But later he saw one in Kaman’s pocket.
He hadn’t had time to ask before Kaman was locked up.
Then he forgot, until Meilun mentioned it now.
Physically, the cub wasn’t supposed to drink much nutrient drink, mainly relying on fortified milk.
But he seldom asked for anything, and seemed to be blending in well—after he finished, he looked to Amos: “Baba, can I go?”
Amos considered, then nodded.
“Go ahead, Daddy will come get you soon.”
The cub beamed.
“Okay!”
He reached out to Meilun, bright amber eyes shining, his halo and wings tucked away from the cold, making him look like a delicate doll in a shop window.
No wonder Amos—
Meilun’s eyes softened as he took the cub’s hand.
It really was hard to refuse him.
Meilun took the cub to his quarters first, picking up a letter, then led him to Kaman’s wing.
It had been Kaman’s home, shared with his mother, a graceful, now-deceased Crown Clan woman whose crown shattered decades ago.
Now, it was empty and cold.
Kaman still wore restraints, seated on his bed, head down, lost in thought.
Until Meilun entered.
Only then did Kaman seem to revive, lifting his eyes with icy pride, instincts sharp again.
“What, here to disgust me again?”
“No, I only came to bring something.”
Meilun said softly.
“What?”
“Something Aunt Kalina left for you.”
Kaman’s hand clenched at once.
Kalina was his mother, a strong and beautiful Crown Clan woman.
Kaman was born of his parents’ spirits, and his childhood was fine. But a century ago, their generation began to fall to crown collapse; Kaman’s father died earlier, so Kaman grew up with his mother.
Afterwards, they fought endlessly, disagreed ever more. Kaman saw only despair. Kalina couldn’t save her child, nor herself; when she took her own life after her crown broke, Kaman didn’t come home.
“I won’t read it—”
His voice was hoarse.
“It’s bound to be scolding.”
Back then, their views clashed; Kalina thought continued effort was nothing shameful even if they lost to fate, but Kaman felt the way forward was too bleak, so he rebelled, leaving Holy Cas to start wild experiments.
“Well, I brought it.” Meilun placed the envelope on Kaman’s lap, then fished a nutrient drink can from Kaman’s pocket, popped the tab, and handed it to the eager cub—catching Kaman’s quick glare.
“Read or not is up to you. But Aunt never blamed you, coward.”
Never blamed…?
Kaman gave a scornful laugh.
“No need to comfort me. We disagreed, and knowing her, she could never speak peace to me. I don’t have long to live anyway, a glorious death I can’t hope for. Just pick up my remains in a few days. If another world exists, I’ll go argue with her in person…”
“You don’t always have to be like this—”
Meilun retorted angrily.
“I don’t know what she wrote, but she waited for you, all through the end of her generation. She was the last to have her crown break.”
Meilun shoved the letter at him, while taking the can and giving it to the cub, who sipped with his head tilted.
The cub had kept silent, but then turned, blinked, and looked to Kaman’s head.
Chu Zao faintly saw a black haze swirling—a foreboding aura—gathering over Kaman.
Just then, Kaman caught those big, innocent eyes—a Crown Clan cub’s eyes.
For a moment, Kaman’s spirit deflated—Well, this way, I suppose there’s no regrets.
It was a letter, but opening it revealed a hologram.
That Crown Clan woman, even at death, smiled gracefully.
“My dear, stubborn, ever-contradictory little Kaka, so long since I’ve seen you.
Mama really hasn’t seen you in an age—after that argument, I’ve thought so much.
Many called you an escapist. I used to think so too.
But coming near the end, I felt so powerless; maybe now I truly understand. Your carefree days were too few, you felt fear too young. Crown Clanners aren’t omnipotent. I only wish someone could save my little Kaka.”
Kaman stared at the familiar image, his body growing stiffer, scarlet eyes turning uncertain—Why not blame him?
The hologram kept playing.
“Mama knows you wanted to come back, so not seeing you at the end—it doesn’t matter. My little Kaka was always the world’s sweetest child.
But Mama knows you’ll come back. I only wanted to tell you—not to be troubled. Mama never once blamed you; she just missed you a little at the end.”
The hologram, seeming to sense Kaman’s spirit, drew near, reaching out as if for a hug.
“Did Mama hug you now? It’s okay… Baby, welcome home.”
“Mama…”
Finally, Kaman’s shoulders shook, his almost-broken crown rising, suppressed emotion bursting free, the halo shaking violently.
He cast off all his sharp defenses; as the oldest Crown Clan left, he sobbed like a child.
“Kaman!”
Meilun pressed a hand to calm him, but it was little help. Meilun stared at the state of Kaman’s crown in shock.
It was worse than they’d realized, and just then, the little cub, having set his can down, looked from the fading hologram to Kaman’s dire crown.