Kaman’s halo was truly in a miserable state.
He was left with only the base of his halo, and that base was thin, on the verge of shattering. At this stage, Crown Clan members could basically no longer control their mental strength; hardly anyone lasted until this point before ending it themselves.
Kaman indeed had strong willpower. After defecting from the Holy Cas Empire, he single-mindedly sought another way to resist the Crown Clan’s destiny.
He had joined countless labs, been in countless organizations, and had tormented himself to no end.
His mental strength was used as an experimental subject more often than not.
One could say that many of his actions would make this group, who treated their mental strength crowns as their “brains,” draw a sharp breath—thinking the guy definitely had a screw loose.
He was ruthless, truly ruthless with himself.
But in the end, it all failed.
Up to now, Kaman felt he had nothing.
What had he actually done and pursued?
Kaman was dazed, pinned down by Meilun. He had no intention of resisting; he only stared blankly at the sky.
He had defected from the race he once loved the most, hadn’t even returned for a final look when his mother passed, tossed himself back and forth to no avail, actually accelerating his own demise—in the end, he had still gotten nothing.
“You survived just like this?!”
Meilun exclaimed.
“Hang in there!! Don’t—you damn it, if I’d known, I wouldn’t have given you aunt’s letter first—”
Kaman had purely relied on his own stubbornness, on this obsession with walking the opposite path from the Crown Clan who were still in the Holy Cas. That was what kept him going.
All on a single breath.
Now, that breath had been let out, light as air, by that hug in the holographic projection.
“No… Meilun.”
Kaman stared at the void, his hoarse voice sounding.
“Though I’ve always thought you didn’t know how to talk, dumb and pretentious, completely a stereotype of the Crown Clan…”
Meilun: …
Meilun wanted to punch this old guy.
Is this the time to talk nonsense?
“Just shut up, His Majesty’s already gotten the message. He will be here soon, hang on—”
Kaman completely ignored Meilun’s words.
He knew that last bit of stubbornness and unwillingness had broken, the kite string tying him to this world had nearly snapped.
He foresaw his own passing.
He had chosen what he thought was the best way to die for himself, but now, he realized maybe passing as his predecessors did could be another form of happiness. No one could save the Crown Clan—not even His Majesty was omnipotent.
“I probably need to thank you.”
Kaman said slowly.
He looked at the spot where the holographic projection had just disappeared—
He could no longer lie to himself.
For countless days and nights, he had defied instinct and used his vital mental strength for research.
That scalp-numbing, body-shaking feeling, after returning “home,” instead finally began to slowly relax.
Mom—
Kaman brought out a meager smile.
His hand closed around nothing, and a javelin composed of mental strength appeared in his palm.
Sorry, I always felt I’d grown up and felt we’d had serious disagreements, so I was afraid to come see you.
I always wanted to say—and always, always wanted to say—sorry, sorry, sorry…
This time—
In the land of death, maybe—I’ll see you?
I really wish I could say to you in person: Dear Ms. Kalina, please stop calling your son by his childhood nickname, your son has been an adult for a very long time, now even an elder himself—and also, little Kaka really misses you.
Tears slipped from the corners of Kaman’s eyes; he heard Meilun shouting something by his ear, apparently trying to stop him, but in the end could not hold down his hand. He sensed that little cub running over, clambering onto the bed, crawling closer.
Damn—
He’d said before, Meilun was a useless guy, at a time like this, how could he let a cub watch?
If you have time to shout, just take this little thing away already.
Besides—it seemed he saw his mother coming to fetch him.
Kaman smiled, preparing to greet death, to greet all the nagging and scolding.
He seemed to see his mother’s face again.
Wearing an elegant smile—as she gave him a knock on the head, even raising her leg to kick him.
That hit was pretty hard.
As if saying—go back, who allowed you to come here?
Kaman: ?
Kaman’s consciousness was a bit hazy, light trembling between, his mother’s face disappearing, replaced by a refined, baby-cheeked little face.
This little one didn’t know when he had crawled up beside him, hanging onto his shoulder, then—
“Hey—”
Little Chu Zao had been drawn in by the gradually fracturing, weathered mental strength crown. In the pressure and storm of Kaman’s mental strength losing control and his crown about to shatter, he had managed to climb up.
The little cub’s golden halo on his head suddenly burned bright.
By the time the cub came to his senses, he had already instinctively reached out with both hands and—pushed that breaking crown together.
Swish—
Golden mental strength surged into the breaking, paper-thin crown in an instant, like golden threads repairing jade, slowly patching the crown together.
This time, the little one had some experience. He even stuck out a small hand and pressed a crumbling fragment into place on the crown, sticking it down.
His moves were clumsy, but the result was excellent.
—It was fixed!
Zao Zao fixed your brain!!
Afterwards, the cub looked down at his own little hands.
“Eh?”
He looked up blankly, little wings folding behind him.
“Zao Zao just… felt like this was the right thing to do.”
Was that okay?
Meilun: …
Kaman: …My halo…??
Meilun had already been pretty dazed during the previous time the cub patched up his own crown. He didn’t remember much.
Only remembered the little one had grabbed his “brain” and forcibly pieced it back together for him.
Now watching the cub patch Kaman’s brain.
Meilun trembled—feeling even more shocked than when he himself had been patched.
Thank you,—the crown had started to itch again.
Kaman, thinking he was already seeing the land of the dead only to be kicked back by his mom, blankly reached out, gingerly touching his own crown halo.
He looked a bit dazed altogether.
“Wait—what just happened?”
He said weakly. The once-arrogant Crown Clan member now looked weak, pitiful, and helpless.
Like a little quail backed into a corner.
At the moment, he was looking at the little cub, somewhat frightened.
He, he, he, he—how could he grab his “brain”?!
Kaman, who was used to experimenting on his own “brain,” was also shocked.
In that instant, he had felt his scalp tingle, his spine go cold—just what was this little guy?
He stared, dumbfounded, tottering.
He was about to fall into unconsciousness.
Still, he fought to hold on.
“Zao Zao, Zao Zao just thought—”
The little cub was confused too, but said softly,
“If Zao Zao could do something, that would be good.”
Zao Zao also wanted to have family.
Zao Zao didn’t like seeing this scene.
Kaman’s vision blurred suddenly.
After the golden mental strength stitched his halo back up, it glowed faintly, stabilizing his crown.
He didn’t know if it was the effect of that golden mental strength.
Kaman also saw some scenes.
The little cub had attended angel class several times before.
He wore his crown halo, with little snow-white wings behind him.
He sat on the steps, watching as parents picked up their little angels one by one.
Holding hands, hugging.
Zao Zao had no parent to pick him up.
He had to wait until the last to go.
In the end, the little one had to flap his wings and fly home alone.
No one around, no sound.
Not far off, there was a tree. The little guy, hopping here and there in search of food, froze.
Looking around, he flew over to the big tree, and timidly asked, “Mr. Tree, can Zao Zao have a hug?”
No one could answer.
He just stretched out his hands and gently hugged the tree. This tree he’d chosen had two inward-bent branches, as if embracing the little cutie.
So the little one left happily.
It seemed an ordinary enough scene.
But at that moment, Kaman, witnessing it all, felt overwhelming—sadness.
He was so tiny…was he even three at that time?
Where were the other Crown Clan members? What were they doing?!
No one hugged him?
Where was that dumb, clumsy fellow Meilun, who adored the cub so much?
Not there either?
How did Amos rear a child??
Did he not learn any parenting lessons at all??
Kaman always found his own attitude toward cubs much colder than other Crown Clan of his generation, but now, he clenched his fists.
It was as if a voice said—keep fighting that so-called fate, the Crown Clan never surrenders, there’s still so much to do, how could this be the end?
Kaman gradually came back to himself, and just before passing out, turned over.
“Kaman?”
Meilun saw the mental strength weapon in Kaman’s hand disappear, and asked confused.
Then, the guy who’d always seemed uninterested in the cub slowly hugged the little one.
Kaman’s eyelids slowly dropped—little one, that’s how you hug.
The door to the room suddenly flew open.
The cub in Kaman’s arms was snatched away.
Kaman couldn’t see who came, but felt Amos’s intimidating presence and clicked his tongue inside, then slowly collapsed.
Amos, holding Little Chu Zao, looked at Kaman.
“Call the royal medical team.”
Amos said.
“And get Zao Zao checked.”
“Baba.”
Little Chu Zao, snatched up, instinctively hugged Amos’s neck with small hands.
“Do you feel uncomfortable anywhere?”
Amos, holding the little one, walked over to a sofa not far away.
All this was, to an extent, in Amos’s plans.
They still hadn’t figured out the mechanics of Chu Zao’s mental strength—they would need to keep investigating, keep assessing. If they wanted to go on, they would have to let the little one use his power again.
It was risky, but Amos had dragged Kaman back.
And allowed Chu Zao to visit Kaman this time.
It was just that the collapse of Kaman’s mental strength crown came much sooner than Amos had anticipated.
Amos had already examined the little one all over.
Little Chu Zao also sensed himself.
“Seems like… Seems like there’s nothing wrong now?”
The little cub looked himself over.
“Just feels a bit… tired?”
And then—
The cub deftly took off his own halo, looked down at the section of his golden crown stained with black gold—no change here, but on the symmetrical side, another section faded in color.
It appeared the changes in Little Chu Zao’s crown color were indeed connected to repairing other Crown Clan members’ crowns.
But it was unknown if that would have any effect.
While Amos was pondering that…
The little one in his arms was already feeling dizzy, unable to keep awake, drifting into slumber.
Not just a bit tired—he was exhausted—
In an instant, Little Chu Zao had that over-fatigued sensation.
He clutched his little crown and closed his eyes.
“What happened?”
Anya and Frey also entered.
The two had just been confirming the exact locations and status of the Crown Clan twins, Job and Joshua.
At this range, they too had sensed the impending collapse of Kaman’s crown.
But upon arrival, they saw Kaman hugging the cub, and then Kaman passed out, but his crown was obviously stabilized.
“Get him checked.”
Once sure the cub was asleep, Amos didn’t linger.
He left, carrying Little Chu Zao.
Anya and Frey exchanged looks.
Anya was a bit regretful: “That little one is okay, right…? Looks a bit pale—But didn’t Uncle Kaman have a pretty bad falling out with Chu Zao? Why were they hugging?”
Chu Zao originally hated Crown Clan members the most—Anya had thought he could compete with Kaman for the role, but now, it didn’t seem quite right?
Frey: …
Meilun, also frowning, watched Amos’s departing figure.
To this moment, he still felt Amos had become somewhat unpredictable.
But he couldn’t question Amos’s decision.
He looked at Kaman lying nearby.
Forget it.
Count your luck, old man.
*
“Mental strength check normal, crown all normal, but—”
This time, the medical team wore grave looks, not as confused as they had been previously on the Ninth Army flagship.
A representative held the report.
“Your Majesty, the Young Highness’s physical condition has suddenly dropped to a relatively dangerous level—many elements in his body have dropped, his organs are approaching danger values where residual damage could occur.”
Amos pulled out the report.
It recorded Little Chu Zao’s health stats, comparing this time with last time.
In just a few days, the numbers had dropped significantly.
Meanwhile, Little Chu Zao rested pale-faced on a soft bed, dark curls scattered over a white pillow, sleeping deeply, with no sign of waking.
“So, he might be overtaxing his body to repair crowns?”
Amos appeared calm.
But his hand, clutching the report, was white-knuckled.
He was crushing the edge of the form, his fingers faintly trembling.
He shouldn’t have let Zao Zao go to Kaman.
Amos hung his head—he’d made the wrong call.
His halo flickered briefly; no one noticed.
The Crown Clan had robust physiques.
They rarely suffered physical illness.
For them, it was always the mental strength that mattered.
On the return journey, Amos had thought, judging by mental strength, Zao Zao seemed fine.
He had never anticipated such a severe problem with the cub’s health.
“…For now, that appears to be the case. But after two similar incidents, the test results differ so much, we can’t be certain. One thing is clear: Young Highness must not repair any more crowns any time soon.”
As harsh as those words were.
The medical group said it anyway.
“Young Highness was already in deficit. If he experiences another drop like this—more anemia and the like, his body won’t take it.”
Now that Little Chu Zao’s condition was even worse than before, the on-site Crown Clan medical equipment was shrieking with alarms—trying to prompt Little Chu Zao to switch parents.
The medical staff held their breath, not daring to speak, as they watched Amos punch out the system, the barrage of beeps replacing the grating accusatory tone.
Things quieted down, but Amos’s face didn’t relax.
He slowly loosened his grip and set the report aside.
“I understand. Continue with the recuperation plan.”
He turned, looking at the cub curled up asleep, angelic, on the bed.
His gaze was anything but calm.
—He had messed up, again… Amos shouldered all the blame himself.
This sort of thing would not, must not happen a third time.
Amos’s eyes were red beneath, forcibly suppressing his increasingly agitated mental strength.
The little one slept a very long time.
He woke in a daze, surrounded by warmth.
It felt like a morning.
The cub’s eyes fell on the wrinkled cloth of a black uniform.
He looked up blankly; following the line of sight, it was Amos, who’d dozed off while holding him.
Amos’s handsome face looked even more striking in the streak of sunlight streaming in, his eyes closed, the formidable, autocratic emperor suddenly peaceful.
So warm—was Baba hugging Zao Zao to sleep?
Little Chu Zao’s big eyes went wide. He was still a bit too weak to tell why, but instinctively burrowed higher, snuggling his little face up to Amos’s cheek.
The little one stared at Amos’s face—Baba’s eyelashes were very long too.
Unable to resist, Little Chu Zao reached out, touched Amos’s lashes, and pinched one.
Curious “mischief baby” that he was, he couldn’t help disturbing his parent’s sleep.
Amos opened his eyes, his eyelid jerking from the tug.
He looked at his little one.
Little Chu Zao glanced at Amos, then at the lash pinched between his own fingers, his brilliant, honeyed eyes blinking fast.
Two soft, pale fingers rolled the “evidence” away.
The cub, eager to please, wrapped his soft little arms around Amos’s neck.
“Baba.”
Amos: …
Playing cute now?
Amos sat up, still holding the little one. He replied calmly, letting the cub’s mischief slide.
—Damn, he really fell for it every time.
The cub’s awakening brought obvious relief to the previously on-edge Amos.
Two days passed, and Kaman—whose halo was in even worse shape than Meilun’s—still hadn’t woken.
After dumping Kaman in the med-bay, Meilun had left him alone.
Everyone knew about the little cub’s condition now.
And believed the cub shouldn’t interact with other Crown Clan for now.
Plus, he was targeted by the Hymn Organization, and who knew how many other organizations now knew the Crown Clan had a cub. The cub needed more secrecy and stricter protection.
Every route from the cub’s quarters to the other Crown Clan palaces was now tightly sealed.
The once-relaxed atmosphere among the Crown Clan tensed up again.
But when they saw the cub, all the heaviness vanished instantly.
Amos carried the little one downstairs.
Little Chu Zao still felt weak, but his mind was on the toys he hadn’t gotten to play with before.
But now it was mealtime.
He curled up in Amos’s arms, chugging milk from a bottle, big eyes sneaking glances at a pile of toys across the room.
Meilun looked jealous, while Anya and Frey were reporting on Job and Joshua to Amos, who replied occasionally. When there was a pause, Meilun excitedly reached out.
“Your Majesty, you can talk work all you want. I’m just an idle old weakling—taking care of kids is my duty as an elder!”
Meilun announced grandly, earnestly.
Amos, holding the cub, gave him a look.
Amos’s wings slowly spread out, shielding the little one in his arms.
“First, send troops to contact the two of them and have a look.”
Frey: “Yes, sir.”
Meilun: ?
Completely ignoring him?
Can’t even give a hug??
Have you forgotten that time you nearly pulled out my “oxygen tube”?!
*
Contaminated zone.
Beast carcasses littered the ground, and not far away were many starship wrecks and human corpses.
Two tall, thin figures, one seated, one standing.
They stood amid the gore, remaining surprisingly clean.
Joshua’s pale face was splattered with blood. The branch of his crown halo was fracturing, bit by bit.
“Brother…”
The pampered young Crown Clan member murmured.
The one in front turned, walked to where Joshua sat, crouched down.
His gray-tinged, crimson gaze fixed on his brother’s breaking crown.
“I feel terrible. My head feels like it’s about to explode.”
Joshua said, clinging to Job’s hand, eyes blank.
“Brother—if I can’t take it, let me go, okay?”
Job had read studies from their elders—about the cub’s influence on the Crown Clan.
Those Crown Clan members who had little contact with the cub usually lacked soft emotions, appearing even harder and colder. While they were stronger in the face of danger and adversity, their hearts were all the more fragile.
“…Alright.”
Job paused for a long time before slowly replying.
*
At this moment, on Holy Cas Imperial Star.
The cub finished his milk, a bit of energy returning.
He was dying to play with the toys Butler Mori had put out for him.
There was a shovel, toy vehicles, and snowball molds.
Fill it with snow, and out popped perfect, round snowballs.
The snow was still soft and powdery.
Amos was uncharacteristically joining in, passing snow for the cub, watching the little one build an assembly line, turning out snowballs one after another.
While the cub played, some commotion broke out near Meilun, Anya, and Frey. They were manufacturing “snow bricks,” intending to make a cub-astonishing little house, but disagreements over the “brick” specs led to discord, which turned into a snowball fight.
So lively—and… childish?
Mori, leading the servants in tidying up, couldn’t help but sigh.
He glanced at Amos, who’d once insisted the cub needed life’s storms.
He’d said so: His Majesty would regret saying that.
Then—one fast-flying snowball, biu, landed on Little Chu Zao’s head, not hard at all. Clearly, whoever had tossed it in the melee realized it was the wrong direction and pulled back the force.
But the cub jerked from the cold, eyes wide as he looked over.
Who?
Who hit Zao Zao?!
The cub jumped up, grabbed a ready snowball, biu-biu, and tossed it back.
Now, a three-way snowball fight became four-way.
But the little one’s offense was too weak—two snowballs and he was whimpering, pelted back.
He retreated, grabbing his tools to start making more, but then noticed his own Baba kneading snowballs by hand.
“Baba?”
The cub blinked blankly.
The snow on top of his head was gently brushed away by Amos.
Meilun laughed uproariously: “Zao Zao’s turned into a little kitty!”
“Which one do you want to hit?”
Amos asked evenly.
“All, all of them?” the little one replied in a milky voice.
“Zao Zao didn’t see who hit him.”
So Zao Zao would hit them all.
Amos nodded.
He appraised the cub’s snowballs: “Density’s too low, not enough punch. Come, stand behind Baba’s wings.”
The little cub: ?
The three men had just caught this line.
Then saw the snowball Amos was raising.
—He’d already packed it into a translucent iceball.
Overworking salaried snowball makers Frey, Anya: …
Meilun, still howling with laughter: …
Weren’t we just playing?
Wait!! Your Majesty Amos!
Do you want us dead??!!