Kaman really wanted to say something.
After all, Kaman’s entire worldview was still based on how important mental strength was to the Crown Clan.
He had a thousand words to say, but the other Crown Clan members remained utterly calm—making him look like some clown jumping up and down.
Kaman: …
What?
Aren’t you guys even a little surprised?
My spiritual power?
He bit it off!!
He. Bit. It. Off!!
“All right, all right, we know, Zao Zao also took a bite out of your spirit weapon,” said Meilun, stopping the washing machine Kaman had brought to attract the cub’s attention. He finally reached out to Mori for help with Kaman’s laundry.
He batted away Kaman’s hand.
“Don’t make a fuss.”
Kaman: …
Huh???
“No, wait a sec—”
Kaman looked at the stony, unbothered faces of his kin.
“Did you guys secretly evolve behind my back or something???”
But just now, when they heard the crack, everyone took a step back in sync!
“Zao Zao is like this.”
Meilun spun his hand, conjuring his spirit blade.
“Look—”
Meilun still hadn’t fixed the tiny notch on his blade with mental strength. After all, those little tooth marks were kind of cute, even if they made your scalp tingle.
Meilun personally experienced what it meant to hurt and enjoy it.
Kaman: …
Amos flipped his hand, showing Kaman his sword hilt, which had several bites.
And—
“Uncle Kaman, do you want to see anything else?”
Amos instinctively glanced upward.
Toward his crown’s position.
Kaman instantly realized something even more horrifying—he couldn’t have bitten the halo too, right?
Kaman waved him off repeatedly, signaling he’d seen enough; that would be way too much stimulation.
Suddenly, even having his spirit weapon chewed seemed less dramatic… maybe.
He looked at the cub hugging his ghost bear, clutching Amos’s pants, peering curiously at the washing machine in his fuzzy pajamas.
He took a deep breath.
It’s fine, so long as he puts away his spirit weapon—
Why, exactly, did he even have it out just now?
Kaman crouched in front of the cub.
“Grandpa has lots more fun things.”
He tried to move past the incident quickly.
Though Kaman was still as lazy and dismissive as ever, maybe from having been away too long, he appeared unfamiliar with this place and was forcing camaraderie, with some urgency.
Showing off, he pulled out a tiny mechanical doll, palm-sized, able to dance on his hand.
Little Chu Zao looked at the doll, curious. Only when Kaman handed it over did the cub reach for it.
He couldn’t hold it in one hand and might drop it.
After thinking it over, he set down his ghost bear at his feet, letting it lean against him before carefully cupping the doll, examining it closely.
The doll sang as it danced—a finely crafted novelty with the soul of a quirky toymaker.
“Dance, dance, dance—” it chirped over and over.
The cub looked at it a long while.
He looked up and raised his hand high, sweetly echoing, “Dance!”
All these days, feverish and dazed, the cub’s voice was extra clear as he mimicked the chant.
His eyes glistened like syrup. His fever-pink cheeks looked like a white-glutinous rice cake, and the fever patch on his head was like a pull-tab ready to reveal a favorite gift.
Amos: …
Anya: …
Frey: …
It was adorable, and its catchiness was dangerous. None of them knew if it was good or bad.
But it was clear the child liked it.
Kaman, emboldened, poured out all his treasures.
Mechanical guns, antique devices from ancient civilizations.
Instantly, a little mountain appeared.
“Zao Zao, look, Grandpa has so many things! Come play with Grandpa more often, we’ll try them all,” Kaman grinned, shooting Meilun a sideways look.
See that?
This is how you win over a kid!
All these Crown Clan had seen cubs—who was better than anyone else?
And this was “Zao Zao’s favorite Grandpa”—!
Meilun: …
But Little Chu Zao’s attention wasn’t on the mountain of novelties.
These things had been collected by the Peng family for Kaman, as if trying to help him make up for lost time.
When Kaman pulled them all out at once, the noise was considerable; the cub instinctively took a step back.
But that little step meant his ghost bear got instantly buried.
“Ah—Bear-bear—”
The cub realized what happened and saw his bear trapped.
He put down the doll and grabbed the bear’s head, tugging with effort like yanking a radish.
The items were heavy; after two tugs, the cub looked pleadingly at Amos.
“Papa… papa… Zao Zao’s bear-bear.”
Amos was quick, kneeling to move the stuff aside.
Kaman snapped to as well and rapidly put away all the things.
But the bear was a clumsy bit of work by Amos after all, its ears and body tied with ribbon.
This pressure was too much—the ribbons popped.
Already a misshapen bear, it instantly lost all semblance of a toy.
And turned back into a jacket.
Zao Zao’s… bear-bear…
The cub stared at his bear.
It was gone.
“I…” The culprit Kaman hurried over. “Sorry, I wasn’t careful—I’ll fix the bear right away, okay?”
Amos was already steadying the ghost bear’s shape, sending people off for new ribbon and needle.
Kaman was indeed anxious—a victim of bad timing.
The bear had almost fallen apart; everyone had been wondering how to switch it out for repairs. No one thought Kaman would be the last straw.
“Can it be fixed?”
The little one asked softly, sounding hopeless.
“It can,”
The adults responded loudly.
That gave the cub a bit of courage.
They got right to work.
Normally responsible for all sorts of matters across Holy Cas, the adult Crown Clan now held needles and ribbons, huddled over Amos’s old uniform.
They glanced at the cub as they worked.
The little one sat behind them, eyes fixed on what was no longer a bear. He didn’t cry.
He seemed to be thinking.
His active halo flickered.
The adults paused.
What they saw in the vision was now all too familiar.
A place both forest and meadow—where, as a much younger cub, Zao Zao was making a grass-pile under a tree.
Atop the heap lay a white-cloth-stuffed grass toy.
Crooked, but human-shaped.
“They say… Zao Zao is a weird little white ball. You’re a white ball, too… Would you be Zao Zao’s friend?” he asked the toy, eyes bright as stars.
“Do you like it here? If you do, Zao Zao will build you a home here, okay?”
He busied about, treating this new friend as if playing house, but instead of bringing it back to his nest, he planned to create a new den for it.
That way they could pay visits—it was as if he could make friends just by making them.
The cub thought so—
Until a lightning storm hit.
Lightning destroyed much of the angel realm—including his new toy and its soon-to-be-finished hut.
It would have been done in a few more days.
But even disaster magic bullied him.
He just hadn’t been able to watch every moment.
The little cub stood before the charred remains of the tree, staring a long time, before flapping back to his undestroyed, now-soaked nest.
Why was the cub so attached to Amos’s makeshift bear?
It might have been made carelessly by Amos, but for Zao Zao, it was anything but casual.
He had to watch it, hold it—if he didn’t, he feared it might break and disappear.
Repairing the ghost bear was soon nearly finished.
They fixed the head and ears, stitched it sturdier—Meilun, best at sewing, frowning in concentration.
Not long after, the bear was repaired.
Amos stuffed it back into the cub’s arms.
The cub was still a little dazed, glancing at Amos,
Then looking back at the bear.
All familiar—the feel, the scent.
Sitting there, the tiny cub slowly gathered up the bear, hugging it tighter.
Amos leaned down, touching foreheads, brushing the fever patch, feeling the not-quite-normal temperature.
Softly, maybe begging Zao Zao or maybe fate itself, he said,
“Be good, don’t think about the sad things, all right?”
They desperately wanted to know what had happened to the cub before.
But every scene, every frame, seemed to cut to the quick of the adults who had weathered centuries.
Pain didn’t just come from breaking crowns.
Little Chu Zao paused.
“Papa… it’s fixed.”
It’s fixed.
“Papa, so amazing.”
His eyes rounded. He didn’t cry, but a tear rolled from his eye and quickly disappeared. He gazed at the bear, little body slowly relaxing.
“Zao Zao can’t fix things.”
So he always lost everything in a blink.
“That’s why you should trust daddy.”
Amos inhaled the cub’s scent, sense of peace restored with the child’s stabilizing spirit, soothing him.
The cub, still hugging his bear, reached out to hug Amos’s neck.
Pressing his feverish cheek to his father’s.
The sight touched every Crown Clan in the room equally.
The other Crown Clan breathed easier, still processing.
They all seemed swept up in the emotion.
Kaman most of all.
He couldn’t be fully blamed, but for now, the problem was on him.
He hadn’t realized if the visions are truth or delusion.
His place was awkward.
The first returned Crown Clan defector.
Though Amos and Meilun’s attitude was much the same as decades before, Kaman still felt out of place.
He wanted to belong.
But it was difficult.
He couldn’t fully forgive himself.
So he’d tried to find another way to feel needed, a reason to stay.
His expression faded, and he stepped back, thinking the cub wouldn’t want to see him now.
—Mom, I think I messed up.
I’m such an idiot.
And then, the cub, after hugging Amos, looked over.
Searching for someone.
But it couldn’t be him, Kaman thought.
He’d heard from Anya that the cub held grudges.
If it was him, it was just to call him a bad guy, perhaps.
Kaman gave a self-mocking smile, preparing his apology.
But at that moment, the cub really did look at him—locking on.
The re-stitched bear looked like a bear again—Amos’s old uniform, from some unimportant banquet perhaps, made a fitting emblem of the Crown Clan.
Now this cold race seemed like only the patched bear, faking cute, resting in the cub’s arms as he toddled over.
He stopped in front of Kaman, cute face half-hidden by the bear.
The fluffy hat’s ears wobbled with every step.
Kaman forced a smile: “Sorry, Zao Zao. Grandpa Kaman just… wanted to show off—but messed up. Next time, grandpa will stay away…”
He’d been gone for so long.
So long his memories had grown hazy.
This place was missing too many familiar faces.
—Every familiar face, one by one, vanished, crowns once lush now faded, all grey and white.
Even the powerful Crown Clan could feel their hearts tremble.
The Crown Clan were not omnipotent—their crowns shatter, they get hurt, they suffer mental collapse. They simply hide it better than most.
But after a thought, the cub reached out and hugged Kaman’s neck.
Kaman froze.
He heard the child speak slowly, as if thinking for a long time—his fever and ‘growing brain’ had left his thoughts scattered.
“It’s okay, Zao Zao forgives you—”
The child’s voice was clear and gentle, like a sudden child’s solo in a symphony of chaos—never discordant, but instead full of hope.
“Welcome home.”
Kaman slowly lifted his arms and hugged back.
—Welcome home.
The restless soul at last found rest.
Meilun, sitting nearby, spoke up, “Alright, enough, aren’t you all heading out soon to find Job and Joshua? Is the new equipment ready? Zao Zao should have some milk by now, right? If you insist on taking Zao Zao, keep him well-protected and hurry back.”
Meilun crouched behind Kaman, taking the opportunity to ruffle the cub’s head.
He was won over by the soft feeling.
Amos soon scooped up the cub.
Kaman still sat there.
Meilun, having nothing better to do, patted Kaman’s hair, only to have his hand smacked away.
Meilun: “Well? Going to reconstruct your spirit weapon now, fix that little bite?”
Kaman seemed much more settled now. He flipped his hand and a spirit javelin appeared instantly.
He studied the bite mark.
After a while—
“I will be Zao Zao’s favorite grandpa.”
Meilun: ?
Why are you stealing my line????
And—
“How long have you been back? Are you still not planning to actually work?”
*
Meilun and Kaman, whose crowns still needed monitoring, couldn’t go to the contamination zone to bring Job and Joshua back.
Frey had royal affairs to handle.
Thanks to Little Chu Zao, the Crown Clan adults had just shut down all those deliberately “hands-off” plans to raise next-generation non-Crown Clan leaders.
There was still a lot of work to follow up.
Job and Joshua were certainly strong, but compared to Amos, it was no contest.
Maybe they still held the hope that if they lost control and caused irreparable harm, their kin could stop them, so they didn’t turn off their Crown Clan signals.
Of course, now that Zao Zao could manipulate signals, their locations were instantly found—so, even dragging them home would be easy for Amos.
Especially now, with Anya as backup.
As for the problem of the cub not being able to use space jump tech, the research institute had slaved away to develop a new interference module. During transport, the child would ride in a shielded pod with full vitals monitoring.
The pod brought the risk to nearly zero.
It could even resist lower-grade contamination, and was useful for other clan members as well.
Since others might need to use it too, the shield-pod was made extra large.
Amos put the cub and the ghost bear inside.
The little one rolled around inside, clutching his bear.
Amos let the faintest smile slip.
“Majesty, everything is ready,” reported Ninth Army Corps Commander Yemeng, saluting. He couldn’t help glancing at the cub.
—Ah…
—Ahhh… His Highness is… too cute?!
He melted.
The Crown Clan is just perfect.
So went General Yemeng’s thoughts.
Anya wasn’t present; he was in the command room.
Amos stood before the pod.
“Engage.”
“Yes, Your Majesty!”
In the zone, Job had been sparring with the scouts for ages.
He’d grown annoyed.
This place was dangerous for the Crown Clan, yet these weaklings insisted on antagonizing him here.
Did they really think he wouldn’t lose his temper?
Wait—he’d already lost his temper, hadn’t he?
For once, Job looked a bit unsure, his grim face softening.
He deliberately avoided Joshua’s area, not wanting to cross paths, but the chaos of the beasts couldn’t escape his notice.
Seeing the humans enter danger, Job lashed his spiritual bone-whip, shredding the beasts in an instant.
“Lord Job! We’ve seen you searching for days—what are you looking for?”
The captain eyed his comm device, shouting.
“What is it you want? If you tell us, we can help look together?”
Even the once-frightened squad had grown numb; being rescued again and again by Job, they now got a bit cheeky.
“Yes, Lord Job, let’s all help—it’s faster together!”
“You—”
Job started, but then paused.
Looking up, a massive starship was descending.
The mark of the Empire’s Ninth Army was on full display.
A little dark figure dropped from above, flapping wings like a bird.
Job’s eyes, sharp as always, met those of another ancient Crown Clan for the first time in years—
“Anya.”
Anya was closing in, bristling with energy.
“Job-bro—Brother Joshua? I heard you killed him? My brother’s already searching for him.”
Anya’s brother—the only Dwight Crown Clan Anya called “Brother” with any real respect—
In a flash, Job realized—
Only one—Amos Dwight.
*
Elsewhere.
Tracking Joshua’s signal, the Ninth Army flagship descended toward a cave.
By rights, the cub would be safest in his shielded pod, but Amos couldn’t bear to leave him there in this unsafe place.
For Amos, that would be a mistake.
So the cub was dressed in protective gear, carried by Amos off the ship.
The polluted, ruined planet was bleak.
Wreckage everywhere; the only life were mutated beasts, like locusts, feeding on meat and ore, bent on slaughter and evolution.
“We’ve investigated enough to know why the princes came to this zone,” Yemeng reported, following Amos.
“This was a Songxing Lizard zone.”
“Songxing Lizard?”
Amos turned.
The cub was so out of it, his energy still unstable.
Softly repeating, “Lizard? Big lizard?”
“Yes, big lizard.”
Songxing Lizards were particularly unique beasts to the Crown Clan.
They had special glands, releasing hallucinations deadly to other races, but to the Crown Clan—strangely addictive.
Like catnip for cats.
They could numb the Crown Clan, shielding them from the agony of broken crowns.
And with no side effects to the Crown Clan.
Songxing Lizards were once hunted en masse, but later operations were stopped.
For some in the Clan, the lure of dreamlike escape was too much.
Amos’s father had judged that the lizards did no real harm to past generations, but for Amos’s, any Clan member who kept using might choose to die in such dreams.
Especially since using a legion leader’s secretion could mean dying in bliss.
To protect their kin,
All campaigns were canceled.
And now, his father—had been right.
Amos gazed at Joshua, lying quietly on a stone bed.
Joshua was surrounded by Songxing Lizard secretions—a gift from big brother Job, who hoped to slip him away in a beautiful dream.
Tests showed there were no high-grade Songxing Lizard substances present.
Amos motioned for the fully armored Ninth Army to move Joshua outside.
Little Chu Zao sniffed the air and felt faintly dizzy.
Joshua’s halo still floated above, only partially cracked.
The cub craned his neck to see better.
Outside, noise sounded.
Job arrived just as Anya closed in; Job called, “Joshua!”
Joshua, in dreams, was awaiting his final sleep—he saw countless breaking crowns, and thought what past elders described must feel wonderful. Selfishly, he demanded an end—but only because he knew his brother would always indulge him. He was done. He hoped to leave in such a dream, to slip from a world that no longer meant anything.
Was this really a dream?
Joshua didn’t know. Discomfort and sadness hazed his sleep—he had gone too far, he realized; for Job’s sake, he ought to have ended things himself. Not forced it.
He reached out—brother… could he wake up again? Maybe it didn’t matter; soon enough, his brother would join him.
Then came Job’s voice—
Wonderful! An alarm clock!
Brother came to wake me up! For the Crown Clan twins, only Job’s matching spirit could wake Joshua from this sleep.
Joshua slowly opened his eyes—next second.
The cub in Amos’s arms, unable to contain himself, leaned over—almost falling—grabbed hold of something—
It was Joshua’s halo.
Suddenly, as his crown was yanked, a wrenching sense of being pulled out of the dream.
Joshua: ???
Oh no, it’s the end!