The little cub, bundled like a fluffy ball, held his small bow—not even really using his psychic power yet, with both his halo and wings still hidden.
He blinked his big eyes, looking at Anya and Feiman, who were both holding him back.
“This isn’t something Zao Zao needs to handle—”
Anya, not even turning his head, kicked a Boel Revolutionary Army grunt flying.
“Auntie and Uncle are here, so Zao Zao doesn’t have to worry.”
Somehow, a psychic lance had appeared in Feiman’s hand. She moved crisply, without a hint of hesitation, and even covered the cub’s eyes, the lance already piercing through a terrified would-be shouter who’d just realized two Crown Clan members were here.
“Just wait here for a while, Zao Zao,” Anya continued.
“Big Brother and Second Brother can handle the situation, our army will arrive soon—there are contingency plans for everything, and we’re both in our prime, not like Uncle Meilun. Zao Zao can just wait with peace of mind.”
Feiman shot Anya a look—
That cold, striking face was tinged with doubt—Do you really have to diss Uncle Meilun like that? Would he approve of this line?
Still, the point stood: We promise not to use large-scale destructive weapons first—meaning, Zao Zao!
Little Chu Zao still held his bow, standing up on the high platform, catching the scent of blood.
But this time was different from before.
The Crown Clan members were at ease, even bantering as they fought.
Feiman patted his head: “Stand a bit further back, Zao Zao. You’re so amazing, you’re our secret weapon, so if Auntie’s fine, Zao Zao doesn’t need to do anything, okay?”
The cub was easily soothed.
He was only five, bundled up into a little ball by his parents, big eyes sparkling: “Awooo.”
Anya and Feiman went to work.
Due to the last lesson and the fact this was the conference’s central area with large numbers of military units pouring in, all armed, trying to control the crowd, Anya and Feiman didn’t take them seriously, but for Chu Zao it was a significant threat, so neither strayed far from him.
Countless cameras were live-broadcasting the chaos, visible anywhere covered by the starnet; countless eyes were watching this multi-nation, multi-clan conference. As soon as something went wrong, viewers skyrocketed exponentially.
—If Lin Yuan’s scheme had succeeded, it would have been further proof of the Crown Clan’s brutality and danger, and with so many unprepared leaders possibly dying in Amos’s psychic explosion, it would shake the galaxy and bring new changes.
That was exactly what Lin Yuan had hoped for.
For Feiman and Anya, Chu Zao’s identity would eventually be revealed, but not in such chaos and so soon. Amos hadn’t decided how to do it, so they certainly wouldn’t take action themselves; it was a restriction of another kind.
Chu Zao stepped back, wide eyes watching, bow in hand, ready to help at any moment, occasionally cheering quietly when Anya or Feiman got close.
So everyone witnessed the action. In the live broadcasts, the cub in the shadows didn’t draw attention—cameras instinctively focused on Anya and Feiman.
They dealt with the enemies easily, effortless for them, but as protection for the cub, and as a double safeguard, neither strayed far, which gave the distant revolutionaries some breathing space.
“What’s going on? Weren’t the Crown Clan supposed to have their coronets shatter and chaos break out? Didn’t the supreme commander say all we had to do was segment the public crowds for a bit, and the job would be done?”
The revolutionaries panicked at the disparity—the plan was nothing like reality.
Let alone manage the crowd, their numbers were dropping one after another; the Crown Clan’s actions were ghostlike and effortless, dispatching anyone who got close to Anya or Feiman in an instant.
Their overwhelming power left a vacuum around them, more opponents retreated or turned on the weaker civilians.
But Feiman and Anya hadn’t even gone all out.
They were confined to an area centered on the cub, outnumbered, with bystanders everywhere—Crown Clan power was too fearsome; random use could devastate the surroundings.
But this much was already enough—a panic-stricken public now found stability, especially the Holy Cas organizations.
Their power was rarely seen by those outside the Crown Clan.
“People always said the Holy Cas military swept all before them, but this is insane…”
“The Crown Clan is a mythic, long-lived race who, alone, can wipe out small beast armies—rare and powerful, not to be compared with Spirit Eyes or others.”
“Not sure what upheaval they were talking about, but these guys are too much! Don’t be afraid, we’re not few in numbers either, all our national militaries are here!”
Some Holy Cas civilians cheered.
“It’s Princess Feiman and Prince Anya! His Majesty and Prince Frey are also here—let’s fight with them! We definitely won’t drag them down!!”
Above them, starships were drawing near.
Their unit captain, observing, noticed Anya and Feiman hadn’t pressed further, instead holding position around some central point. He radioed—“Don’t panic! Don’t panic!! Our support is almost here!! Look up! The Crown Clan won’t dare advance, our commander said, their coronets are failing, the Crown Clan’s finished, we even overthrew the Spirit Eyes—what’s left to fear from another long-lived race? We just need to—”
Feiman flicked blood from her psychic spear—the head wet from her victims. Anya’s psychic chains clinked. They’d noticed the arrivals too and listened to the leader crowing.
Crown Clan senses were strong; even at a distance, they’d seen the insignia on the starships—Holy Cas Third Army, under the royal family’s third prince, Feeney Dwight.
Oh—
Feeney the thick-browed, bearded one—was he staging a coup?!
Right, time to request permission to use Zao Zao’s weapon on Feeney! Turn Feeney into a pincushion!
Anya and Feiman exchanged a look, relaxing slightly.
So why did it take that unreliable guy so long to get here?!
They understood, but evidently no one else did, especially the Boel team leader, still convinced those were his own troops.
He raved on, keeping a wary eye on Anya and Feiman, sensing their relative restraint—a false impression that the Crown Clan weren’t as strong as the legends told.
“The princes of the Crown Clan aren’t afraid of you!”
From the other side, the weaker forces protected by the Holy Cas youths shouted back in outrage.
“You fools, the princes controlled the situation within minutes—no casualties except yours!”
“Takes nerve for a bunch chopped to bits to still be yapping!”
Any mention of shattered coronets hit Holy Cas citizens even harder than it did the Crown Clan themselves.
After generations of loss, all Holy Cas was attuned to this pain, and it hurt to hear it sneered at. As true followers, they couldn’t take it.
On site and watching the starnet, everyone erupted—how dare they?! How dare you say that, Boel Revolutionaries!
“Even if you wiped us out, the Crown Clan emperor and princes would still be fine! Absolutely!!
“We’re nothing like the Boel Alliance!!”
People said the Crown Clan were brutal and cold, but only after generations had Holy Cas gently brushed off their dust, making them proud of their existence. To Holy Cas, the emperor and princes were the gentlest but strongest beings they knew.
Holy Cas had developed just the same—a tenacious resistance to adversity, so under Feiman and Anya’s protection, even the civilians nearby forced back the Boel Revolutionaries.
Chu Zao stood high up, in shadows, half his face bundled by his scarf.
He gripped his Cupid’s bow nervously, pacing with tiny steps, ready for love and peace at any moment.
He could do little, especially now—still too young, his power limited, and because of the archangel’s “teachings,” his power had always been gentle, meant for acceptance by promise.
Now, the cub realized his power wasn’t enough, but Auntie and Uncle were amazing—
His big eyes sparkled.
Could Zao Zao one day be a Crown Clan like his aunt and uncle?
And… what about Baba? Chu Zao didn’t know, growing a bit anxious, until he heard the angry cries of the Holy Cas civilians.
He looked and saw, among the crowd, the angry face of the aunt in the wheelchair who’d given him the badge.
He was just thinking—
A deafening explosion.
A starship gun turret rotated and fired—without hesitation—on the densest gathering of Boel troops.
A tidal wave of bombardment washed over them.
The revived Boel Revolutionaries were instantly overwhelmed.
They instinctively looked skyward.
The chant of “our support is here, hold the line” turned to stunned silence.
The neutral planet’s sky darkened as giant starships, as massive as whales, moved through the clouds, crowned insignias gleaming.
These unique symbols belonged to one Empire—Holy Cas.
It was the Holy Cas Third Army, returned at full speed from the pollution zone, destroying countless beast army bases and accidentally wiping out every Boel Revolutionary reinforcement along the way!
The world seemed to darken.
Anya and Feiman stood beneath these hulks, black hair blown wild by the blast, scarlet eyes glowing from within, with the warships overhead—a sight more terrifying than a wolf pack, because even a wolf pack could be overwhelmed.
But any one of them was stronger than a whole wolf pack!
“Took them long enough,” Feiman said slowly, as a familiar dry laugh echoed from above.
“Third Brother.”
“It’s—it’s Holy Cas’s army!!!”
The Boel ranks broke instantly.
Soldiers fled, ignoring their squad leader’s shouts.
That leader tried to fight, but saw Anya and Feiman, freed now from their confinement to the cub’s side, step forward.
They were in a corner; no Boel soldiers left near, and ropes dropped as Holy Cas Third Army troopers rapidly descended to take over.
Threats to the cub were gone.
Anya and Feiman both judged it safe.
The squad leader clutched his blaster in terror and fled—
But was stabbed through the chest the next second.
Because the cub was still watching.
Feiman and Anya made the action less bloody for his sake.
“It’s the Third Army? That’s Prince Feeney’s command!”
“Prince Feeney’s here too!”
“The whole Dwight family… is here?”
“What a sight—”
In another corner, the weakest civilians protected by Holy Cas were watching, when suddenly a noise came from above.
They were near the main hall—three stories tall, where the conference was held.
Now, the leaders had all left, and the hall was nearly empty.
But just then, apparently blaming Holy Cas for destroying their plan, a Boel officer lurking inside suddenly leaped from the roof, eyes wild—
“Why is comms dead, why—It’s you, you Holy Cas trash! Everyone, die!”
He swung a power weapon, ready to smash into the crowd.
Cries of alarm; people shielding loved ones.
It was all too fast, and in the wrong place—he was a psychic powerhouse, and the weapon’s energy wave would maim many.
It all happened fast; Anya and Feiman, busy with the front lines, turned, sending out psychic power, while from the horizon another force zeroed in.
No real danger—in the expected range.
The Crown Clan on scene quickly worked together in tacit harmony. But then—a faster, earlier arrow burst out, flames of black fire licking along its shaft, plunging into the officer’s shoulder. The weapon flew from his grasp.
Feiman reacted instantly, her spear and chain striking the man—while yet another dark arrow from the sky knocked the weapon aside.
All within seconds.
Holy Cas military had already taken over, but Anya and Feiman both looked instinctively at the far-off corner.
“Zao Zao?”
The arrow streaked with black fire—that came from Zao Zao’s direction.
But that wasn’t love and peace.
That arrow, though still immature, now showed true power.
The live camera caught it all—the tiny figure under a golden halo, holding a golden bow, black flames swirling, gaining a new sense of menace.
Everyone was stunned.
Especially the Holy Cas citizens watching online.
‘What’s happening—?’
‘Is that a coronet and wings? Am I seeing things? That’s a coronet and wings!!’
‘Protected by Prince Anya and Princess Feiman… No way… is this a little crown prince?’
‘A little prince? The little prince is protecting us—’
‘Oh my god…’
Bundled in his scarf, Chu Zao was still huddled tight; for the first time, he’d truly aimed his power at an enemy. His little golden halo, previously edged with dark gold, now blazed with black fire, making his once-gentle psychic power completely different; even his golden “love and peace” bow was flaming at both ends, and after the arrow let fly, the flames slowly faded.
The Crown Clan present could sense his psychic energy returning to normal.
His small hand trembled.
“Zao Zao… just now—”
Chu Zao was dazed, looking down at his bow.
He’d seen it first, instinctively aimed, thinking of how much he liked Holy Cas, liked all these people who greeted and praised his cuteness.
It was nothing like the Angel Realm—
He didn’t want anyone he cared about hurt before his eyes.
But just love and peace—couldn’t solve this problem.
If only he were a bit stronger—
The thought burned furiously, and then the arrow in his hand erupted in flames. Startled, he’d let go without meaning to.
“That destructive force—”
“Wow, Zao Zao really does have unique psychic power.”
Feiman and Anya exchanged glances.
“Is it okay to expose this now? Should we control the broadcast?”
“Let Big Brother Amos handle it.”
Feiman considered.
“But I think this is actually a great opportunity.”
No ceremony or grand declaration could surpass this moment—
Both looked at Chu Zao.
A brave, fierce little crown prince.
Protected by his elders, he could do anything he wanted, knowing any force that threatened him would be torn apart by his Crown Clan family.
They glanced off to the side.
Down the small path, another psychic force had moved even quicker, slicing across when the officer had leapt—the force was so sharp the reaction lagged. Only when the officer collapsed, blood pooling, did anyone realize.
No one else had even reacted.
Amos, having finished with Lin Yuan, strolled over, Frey at his back; further off, Lin Yuan, seeing the Third Army’s crest, had been cut down by Amos in one stroke, without even a last word.
Amos plainly saw the last scene—he walked up to the cub.
Chu Zao instinctively reached out, a little uneasy.
He remembered that Baba, Uncle, Auntie, and Big Uncle had all told him to stay out of the cameras.
But the next second, Amos picked him up.
“Your Majesty!”
“Your Majesty—”
Holy Cas people instinctively saluted, but their eyes never left the little cub in Amos’ arms.
That familiar golden halo, the small wings behind him.
Held by His Majesty Amos himself?
Could it be possible?
The Holy Cas people were silently wishing for just that.
Anya nudged Feiman, “Any comments to make?”
This generation of the Crown Clan was finally announcing to all: they had a new cub.
Move, and die.
Feiman: “Very shy, not really up for a statement.”
Anya: ?
Tell me another—Feiman claiming she’s shy.
Far off, Feeney, having finished the battlefield, looked over just in time: ?
Hiss—he vaguely remembered, had Amos mentioned getting a cub before??
And in Amos’ arms, the cub’s eyes were round, soft black hair fluffy, just a little shy, half his face behind his scarf.
“Baba? Did Zao Zao accidentally expose himself?”
Should Zao Zao hide? Zao Zao is a secret weapon!
He spoke in a soft, milky voice, bright-eyed.
Chu Zao had never faced anything like this before.
“Baba had wanted a more formal introduction for you, not for you to hide.”
Amos replied, and he’d always felt it a bit strange to place all of Holy Cas’s hopes on a cub who didn’t feel belonged. Right now, Amos really wanted to check what had happened with Chu Zao’s psychic power.
But at that moment, he looked at the crowd, and Chu Zao’s eyes widened, all eyes on him. Amos stood, treading through the blood spilled by the schemes, holding his child on a battlefield full of smoke.
“This is my child—Chu Zao Dwight, the future King of Holy Cas. I am proud of his courage and strength, and I will protect him to my dying day.”