He… he was going to kill Amos!
Fueled by boiling anger, Hel, who hadn’t left his chambers in years, marched out with unwavering steps.
The palace patrols stared in bewilderment at Hel’s grim, reckless figure striding toward Dwight Manor.
Guards: …
Hiss—what’s happening?
Should we report this?
But that’s Lord Hel.
Still, Lord Hel looks pretty unhinged—
More than unhinged.
He looked ready to combust.
Nothing like the stagnation he’d shown since he was brought back years ago.
It was already past midnight.
Outside Dwight’s villa, under frosty dew, back throbbing in agony, Hel stood at the manor doors.
Inside, Amos and the cub were already asleep, with Frey and Anya also present—only Feiman was absent, as Job and Joshua had run into trouble and Feiman had stayed at the medical center to watch over them.
Hel stared at the front door for a while.
The AI detected the shadow, scanned, and then greeted Hel in a cheery tone.
“Hello, Lord Hel. Long time no see. The palace AI at your service.”
Hel had blocked the system during his long seclusion.
The AI genuinely hadn’t seen him in ages.
According to the database—he was still Amos Dwight’s respected tutor.
‘Click—’
The AI opened the door.
“I have notified His Majesty Amos of your visit. Do you have urgent news for His Majesty? I am conveying your message now.”
The cheerful AI said.
Upstairs—
Amos had sensed something was wrong the moment Hel entered Dwight manor’s range.
He slowly opened his eyes.
Night was quiet, peaceful; the warm little cub slept heavily, clutching his little halo.
So small, curled in Amos’s arms, he hardly took any space.
Ahead, the ghost bear—Amos’s own handiwork—and Amos himself formed a protective nest for the child.
The cub breathed steadily, but in his sleep still mumbled—
Still wanting Hel to apologize.
In the cub’s mind, this matter just could not be let go.
Even Hel had been driven mad by it.
Amos covered the child’s ears with his large hand.
The AI’s night-lights glowed.
The system volume dimmed automatically.
The cub was completely undisturbed.
“Your Majesty Amos, Lord Hel has arrived. The door is unlocked. Now relaying his intent—Lord Hel says he’s here to ‘clean house’… uh?”
The friendly AI: ?
Even its signal lamp seemed to flicker.
The database whirred madly—this didn’t sound very friendly?
Plus, it had cheerily opened the door.
AI: …ah!
AI off.
Well—
Lord Hel is a lord, so it’s not really my fault… not my fault…
The system started frantically searching the star-net forums: “#The Biggest Blunders You’ve Made at Work#”.
Amos was a bit surprised.
He frowned deeply.
Clean house? Whom was he here to clean?
Amos rose quietly and tucked in the still-sleeping child.
A deep furrow formed in the Emperor’s brow.
All this over a few days of Zao Zao’s nagging about apologizing?
Amos’s gaze grew darker.
Amos had always respected Hel.
He was Amos’s most trusted companion outside of siblings and parents when he was young, and his most loyal retainer since ascending the throne.
Amos thought he knew Hel well.
Hel might be bleak and sarcastic, but would never pose a threat to the family; even his harsh words were mild.
His mentor’s misery always tugged at Amos’s heart.
The Crown Clan’s instinctive affection and yearning for cubs—their presence soothed their anxiety.
Besides, Hel had admittedly been too harsh before, so Amos hadn’t stopped the little cub’s behavior.
Now—
Mentor and student stood: one in the main hall, one on the third-floor balcony, facing off at a distance.
Hel looked terrible.
He swayed, gripping a ruler-like spirit weapon.
“Your Majesty Amos…”
His voice was hoarse.
“I am truly furious tonight—”
If you’re so clueless at raising cubs, if you can’t care for the one who’s been pestering me for days, all for your own kid’s sake, then hand him over to someone else!
That’s supposed to be the next Emperor of Holy Cas!
How could you—ugh, so much for my teaching!
Hel was heartbroken.
But he didn’t finish.
He looked frightening: hair wild, eyes bloodshot, spirit weapon in hand, furious enough to destroy anything.
Amos judged the risk instantly.
The next second, he vaulted the rail, determined to subdue Hel at once.
“Bang—”
Seeing Amos charge, Hel instinctively resisted.
The clash of spiritual power wasn’t loud, but for the Crown Clan, it jolted the senses instantly awake.
Hel truly was angry and wild, but didn’t seem really intent on cleaning house—more like he just wanted to brawl with Amos.
As the most versatile tutor, Hel’s technique reigned supreme in both theory and practice.
He dodged Amos’s two restrained attempts at a takedown, but was still subdued in the end.
By now, Anya and Frey had come out of their rooms.
“What’s going on?”
Both stared in confusion at the scene below.
They hadn’t seen Hel in ages.
Let alone a Hel so… energetic.
Energetic, perhaps, to an alarming degree?
“Teacher, you have to understand—Zao Zao is pestering you because you mishandled this. If you’re unhappy with Zao Zao, I advise you keep it to yourself…”
“Your Majesty Amos, how did you treat his Highness? Where were you when he was crying?!” And you even let that little Dwight defend you.
Their words nearly overlapped.
Amos: …?
Hel: …?
Amos: Since when was he mistreating his cub???
Hel: Since when was he seeking revenge on the cub???
Pinned by Amos, Hel finally snapped back from dream to reality.
Among the Crown Clan drawn into the cub’s spiritual memory, Hel’s response was particularly intense.
He was still a bit groggy, thinking—
“Teacher,” Amos released him, having realized something, “I only found Zao Zao at the habitat not long ago—he was five already when I picked him up.”
Hel didn’t react; his mind hadn’t cleared, and pain from his lost wings flared in his back, keeping him in a daze.
Just then, the door to Amos’s room slowly opened.
The little cub, holding the ghost bear, had heard the commotion. Half asleep, he rubbed his eyes, shuffling to the third-floor railing.
The vintage brown wooden banister was much too high. He gripped one slat with his small hand and peeked through.
“What’s the noise…? Where’s Baba? What’s wrong with Baba?”
Then he saw the aftermath of Hel’s fight with Amos, weapon in hand.
Chu Zao: …
Frey and Anya: …
Heaven bear witness.
Amos was the Crown Clan’s strongest; Hel, even at his best, could never beat him—much less now. With Amos not even using spirit weapons, Hel was certainly at a disadvantage.
But the little cub clearly didn’t see it that way.
In his eyes—Hel was angry at the accidental entangling of his spirit thread, taking it out on Amos, insulting Amos, and now, without apologizing, he wanted to fight Amos.
How could he?!
His wings, usually tucked back, suddenly spread and bristled. The cub flapped and took off, yanked down his halo, and flung it.
Flinging his halo—he was scarily practiced, like aiming an arrow, and his accuracy was startling. With a duang, his shining golden halo boomeranged right into Hel’s forehead and knocked him down.
Hel: …
The spirit weapon vanished from Hel’s hand; downed by Amos and Chu Zao, he lay on the floor, eyes blank, staring at the ceiling.
For a moment, reality and nightmare blurred—he’d come to confront Amos, but wound up like this, wound stinging, crown fracturing, forehead throbbing—
Fine, he could accept the kid removing his own crown, but why could he throw it?!
And why could that sparkling little crown fly straight back afterward???
“Baba!—Baba!”
The cub flew down from the third floor, and crashed into Amos’s arms.
He clutched Amos’s neck with tiny hands, glaring, wary of Hel lying on the ground.
His baby voice trembled with anger:
The cub rarely fought; his coping had always been to minimize harm and avoid conflict. But now, after coming to Holy Cas, he was changing bit by bit.
His baby voice rang strikingly clear: “He’s a bad guy! He said those things and didn’t apologize, and wants to fight—you’re bad!”
Amos: “Zao Zao, Baba’s fine, I’ll explain later.”
Apart from the headache from seeing the cub’s halo thunk Hel’s forehead—
Hel’s reason for coming might be different than the cub expected, but the outcome was the same.
The cub’s cheeks puffed with anger; in his rush, he’d left the ghost bear on the third floor.
Frey and Anya exchanged looks upstairs.
Frey: “Teacher doesn’t look well, call the medical center.”
Anya: “If he was okay, he wouldn’t be attacking Second Brother in the middle of the night—”
But…
Anya noted the cub’s wary look at Hel.
Anya: Excellent, now Hel is a strong competitor for Zao Zao’s most-hated Crown Clan!
He retrieved the ghost bear, then he and Frey came downstairs.
“His crown is in bad shape.”
Anya handed the bear to the cub, then he and Frey propped Hel up on the sofa.
“The medical team will be here soon, to assess if he should stay or get a full check-up.”
Hel, sitting on the sofa, finally calm at last, shook with pain at intervals.
Wings weren’t as crucial as the spiritual crown, but they were still vital for the Crown Clan. The wounds from having one’s wings ripped out never healed, and ached endlessly.
The ceaseless pain was a reminder of everything lost.
By the time the medical team arrived, Hel sat slumped, eyes lowered, dead to the world.
They hadn’t had a reading on Hel’s health for years—he’d kept everyone away for so long.
“It’s bad, his crown is near terminal stage, plus the wing issue—”
A medic hesitated.
“The wounds haven’t changed since last check; Lord Hel is likely always above level eight pain.”
“And as for the crown, perhaps His Majesty could have the young lord attempt a patch—at this stage, if it works, the impact on the child’s spirit should be minimal, on both sides it should go better than before.”
Before, Meilun and Kaman’s crowns were already shattered when Zao Zao rebuilt them, and Zao Zao’s own spirit was affected; they’d both slept for days.
Now, if things went well, results would be much better.
“No need to rush; Lord Hel should rest, and we’ll do a full exam in the morning.”
After a quick check, the medics departed.
Amos held the cub in his arms.
The cub’s wings kept bristling.
Muffled: “Bad guy.”
“Not that bad—”
Amos suspected Hel had seen something of the cub’s past, which set him off.
But Amos didn’t want the cub remembering all that, and tried to shield him.
The cub shrank behind his ghost bear, even more aggrieved: “He can yell at Zao Zao, but just because he’s Baba’s teacher… big bad guy!”
Amos: …
The “big bad guy” was officially crowned.
“So, should Zao Zao try to fix Grandpa Hel’s crown?”
The cub froze: “Yes!”
He really was a good boy; when he’d heard how painful it was to have wings ripped out, he’d been glancing worriedly at Hel, feeling sorry for him.
Amos stroked his head, feeling tender.
“Still mad?”
The cub’s cheeks puffed once more: “Mad!”
With the exception of Hel—the new object of Zao Zao’s annoyance—the rest of the Crown Clan suppressed grins.
Anya had wanted to fan the flames, but looking at Hel, all the fight went out of him.
He pressed his lips together, saying nothing.
Things grew quiet, Amos settling with the cub nearby, waiting for Hel to calm down.
At that moment, the medical team dashed into the medical center.
Feiman wasn’t sleeping in her assigned room, but dozing in the corridor.
Expressionless, she seemed to radiate frost.
Noticing company, she snapped awake, and for a moment, looked downright frightening.
“Princess Feiman…”
She quickly recovered, wincing, black hair falling over her shoulders as she leaned against the wall, asking hoarsely, “What is it?”
The Crown Clan’s presence was powerful, and the Dwight lineage’s spiritual pressure was unmatched, even muted.
The medical staff quickly explained the situation.
Feiman nodded and glanced into the room.
Job and Joshua, isolated for observation, had quickly destabilized upon their return. In just a day or two, emotional eruptions had made their crowns shatter even faster—especially since they were separated.
At one point, Job nearly used his bone whip to pin Joshua to the wall—Joshua, in his misery, had made no secret of his suffering, passing it all to his twin.
Now, Job bore double the pain, and with “peaceful death” denied, he broke down, nearly “helping” Joshua himself.
But splitting them up didn’t work either.
Something deeper was wrong, but they had no leads. It was a headache for all.
So Feiman had to keep watch herself.
If Teacher Hel could recover, maybe he’d know what to do.
But ever since successive corruptions and losing his beloved and wings in the process, that was a tall order.
Back at Dwight manor.
Hel finally calmed.
His crown looked critical but not yet destroyed, eyes lowered, not even registering the talk about crown patching.
All he could think of was the images that haunted him.
The dream he’d just had—
The cub, wings drooping, tearing his own notebook, then carefully piecing it back together.
That polite, outward gentleness, masking rejection.
Who was it?
What exactly happened?
How dare they?
How dare anyone treat a Crown Clan cub like that?
A teacher?
How dare they call themselves a teacher?
‘Yeah, yeah, only YOU deserve to be a teacher, Your Imperial Tutor—so what if the outside tutors were just low-quality sparring partners? Let the Imperial Academy handle its own matter, you just focus on the Emperor’s family, alright?’
A familiar voice sounded in his head.
“Apologize… have to apologize to Baba…”
The little baby voice didn’t ring out directly in his mind this time, but still interrupted his brooding.
Hel looked up, meeting the cub’s gaze.
The little one’s eyes were especially clear. Full of righteous demand for Hel to apologize to Amos—yet when Hel looked back, the cub’s wings tucked tight in.
He thought for a moment, but kept insisting in a soft baby voice.
“Apologize to Baba,”
That look of: “I’ll keep saying it till you do.”
So guileless, so direct—
How could this child have been treated that way?
Hel gazed at the little one.
He moved his lips, and finally, all his sharpness melted away before this softness: “Yes… I apologize…”
Hel turned to Amos: “Teacher apologizes—Your Majesty, I shouldn’t have said those things.”
But still—
How could those people do such a thing?
Hel’s bottled emotion, at last, trickled out as tears as he lowered his head.
When that little Dwight called him Teacher—he had been powerless to help, forced to watch him bullied with no teacher to turn to.
He finally apologized!
After days of persistence, the cub at last had his answer.
He looked up instinctively at Amos.
With Amos’s nod, he advanced, preparing to try patching Hel’s crown.
Only to see Hel’s tears.
Chu Zao: …?
Chu Zao was at a loss.
Why cry?
This wasn’t like the Hel from before.
The cub, sleepy, hair a mess, wings tight with nerves.
He thought, then fetched a tissue and handed it to Hel.
“For you—Zao Zao also apologizes; I won’t talk in your head again.”
The cub, all soft milkiness, overlapped in Hel’s mind with that fading little figure without a teacher.
He seemed hesitant: “Do your wings hurt?”
He whispered, “Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?”
The “big bad guy” the cub had just denounced now wavered in his heart.
Across the room, Anya sat bolt upright.
No! The situation had done a 180!
Hel, already numb from pain, took the tissue, and rasped, “It’s fine, not that bad—Your Majesty, has a teacher for the young lord been found?”
He seemed steadier, even focused.
His red eyes locked on Amos as if seeking comfort.
“It’s on the table, under review,” said Amos.
“Good.” Hel nodded.
“If you finish before I die, let me see it. I’ve got the eye for good teachers, even if I haven’t been out in years.”
Resigned, Hel realized the current Crown Clan might not be able to give the cub everything the Dwight line once could—he was too late—
Amos nodded.
Hel knew, even if he could bear the pain from his lost wings, he couldn’t block the destruction of his crown.
Not reconciled—he hadn’t yet told that young Crown Clan cub: the Crown had the best teachers, and would never refuse a cub…
Not reconciled…
On the other hand—
Hel belatedly understood.
Just now, patching the crown—was that literal?
Then, the small cub before him reached up, hesitantly, and took hold of his crown.
“Baba, it looks possible.”
Chu Zao turned to Amos.
Um, he’s holding my crown…?
Hel: ??????
Wait, so “patching the crown” was LITERAL???? Wait a sec—being able to take off your own crown is one thing, but why can he hold mine????