This wasn’t just the first appearance of a Crown Clan cub in hundreds of years.
This was also Amos’s child, a mythic, long-lived race, choosing to protect others at an age when he himself still needed protection.
Acknowledged in Amos’s arms—the next emperor of Holy Cas.
Many people present from Holy Cas recognized the little one.
Although no live camera had ever caught him, he’d been seen moving around under the protection of Prince Anya and Princess Feiman.
No one had dared to guess he was a Crown Clan cub, only wondering if he was the child of some minister with outstanding service to the empire.
But now—
As strong adults, defending others from the Boel Revolutionary Army assault, Wen Qingfeng and Wen Qingyu reacted first.
After all, they’d known before; they bowed first.
“Little highness!”
Behind them, eyes burned with fervour, and in the wake of Amos’s admission—on this battlefield where the scent of blood still lingered—the shouts grew louder and louder—
“Little highness!”
“Little highness!!”
“Chu Zao, little highness!!!”
Calling out his name.
Little Chu Zao, wearing his golden shining halo, looked at Amos with amber eyes, then at the crowd around.
His scarf had been adjusted by Amos, revealing his soft, round, baby-fat face.
After months of Crown Clan care, his health was steadily recovering, his face even rounder and more adorable—no wonder Feiman had been so quick to steal kisses.
Chubby and soft, bouncy like sweet pudding.
Amid these shouts, he didn’t shrink into Amos’s arms like usual; he simply watched the crowd as Amos held him, his halo bright and radiant.
Baba looked at him; Uncle Frey lowered his head in salute.
Little Chu Zao looked back.
Anya and Feiman were at the sides of a strange bearded uncle, each pressing him from a side, smiling; when he looked over, they too saluted—not acting as his family, but as members of Holy Cas.
As Crown Clan, showing respect to the next king acknowledged by His Majesty Amos.
Further away, Hel stood at the entrance, holding his psychic weapon—who knew what he’d gone through on the battlefield, soaked in blood.
The refined youth looked over; after a long period of sadness on this planet, something inside him was changing—his expression was complex, but his gaze finally calmed. His psychic weapon disappeared, and he bowed his head.
—Saluting the future King of Holy Cas.
The little cub, who once only knew how to hide when faced with difficulty, seemed to realize at this moment—how Amos had once told him what it meant, as Crown Clan, to bear these responsibilities.
They were no longer just a mythic race on the sidelines; with all this loyalty, hope, and support, they were the heart and soul of Holy Cas.
The cheers of the crowd, the deference from the powerful Crown Clan, the endless Holy Cas Third Army starships overhead, the army taking command of everything—all of it showed the strength of what some now called a fading empire.
Under this sky, over this blood, it was utterly breathtaking.
The entire network exploded.
From the moment Amos acknowledged Chu Zao as his child.
For mere minutes, Holy Cas people flooded the network.
Holy Cas is one of the founding powers of the starnet; this madness was not just unrestricted by the network admins—they joined in.
So, for a while, everyone on every planet saw nothing but Holy Cas messages.
“Are the Holy Cas people insane? Everywhere is their celebration.”
“They’re always crazy. Didn’t you notice how tightly Crown Clan topics are controlled on the starnet? What you find is all praise—the mod power is all in Holy Cas’s hands.”
“They’re nuts about the Crown Clan. There’s a kind of mania I don’t get. And if you say the Crown Clan’s coronet is about to shatter, you’ll really trigger them. I’ve read so many emotional posts from people who basically say if their emperor and princes are gone, they’ll follow them to the next world. Totally crazy, I don’t get it.”
“If you don’t get it, then don’t try!!! Ahhhh, little highness!! We have a little highness now!!”
“Centuries, and this is the only one? My god, my god, to see this in my lifetime?!”
“The little highness looks so small, especially with His Majesty Amos looming beside him, even tinier—so cute—oh no, so cute, now I see why records from my ancestors’ times were all about growing up with the little highness then. Please, let there be more videos and pictures of the little highness in the future!”
“Wuwuwu, the next king of Holy Cas—we finally have a next king.”
“Those same messy curls as His Majesty Amos, Dwight crown insignia, I don’t get it, how can there be such an adorable, handsome little highness on earth?”
“But wasn’t this an accidental reveal? I’m sure His Majesty and the princes had reasons for keeping him secret. Is there risk? Really, the little highness shouldn’t even have had to act—His Majesty and the others were already handling things, nothing would’ve happened—ah, I’m worried.”
“Does the little highness know whether that one arrow made a big difference? He’s supposed to be protected, but he still stepped up—just like the Crown Clan legends—ah, I can’t wait for next National Day.”
A farcical conspiracy, turned into a Holy Cas Empire festival.
On the other side of the plot, the net pulled tight around a big fish on the run.
On a base that had drifted through space for years, after destroying several long-lived races’ Hymn Organization ships, the mood was tense.
“He’s been caught. Connection is down.”
A cloak-clad member of the Hymn Organization tapped the controls.
“He made immense sacrifice for the coming of god; god will see it all.”
That one closed his eyes, traced a cryptic sign over his chest—a kind of prayer.
“Impossible—this can’t be.”
A wild voice sounded; a fist slammed the table.
On screen before them, starnet streamed the video of Amos holding Chu Zao, declaring him his child, the future King of Holy Cas.
They could not believe it.
“How can there be no effect?”
“It can’t be—didn’t that special substance definitely enter Amos’s mind?”
“Of course, and all the video archives are still there—”
The Hymn Organization was suddenly silent.
After a long time, the leader at last spoke: “Tolerance and Generosity are dead, Compassion soon will die; all because of the Crown Clan. We should mark them as the number-one enemy to our sacred rite—especially that strange cub of his.”
The Hymn Organization was a zealous cult of god, led by Seven Virtues, Eight Knights as bishops. In past Crown Clan conflicts, the virtues of Tolerance and Generosity had been destroyed; today, even Compassion, who met with Lin Yuan, had been targeted by Holy Cas.
They’d acted against the Crown Clan countless times, but now there was a strange little cub.
Even Meilun should’ve died from shattering his coronet, yet that weird cub pulled him back.
Now, the whole Crown Clan’s mood had changed, with this one variable—Chu Zao.
He adjusted the monitor, fixing on the little cub’s soft, puffy face.
A plump bun face, fluffy hair looking gentle and harmless—a five-year-old, not yet grown, yet already their worst threat.
“Didn’t research show, though cubless the Crown Clan are strong, only with children are they truly Crown; cubs are everything to them.”
“Few long-lived races remain. Let’s harvest the Spirit Eye clan next.”
“Lin Yuan barely lasted a blow against Amos, but at least Boel collapsed as we hoped—Boel and the Spirit Eyes will vanish. Another piece of our holy puzzle.”
“But—Holy Cas’s broadcast isn’t over. What are they doing?”
Indeed, the Holy Cas broadcast wasn’t over.
After the Third Army rapidly secured the area, all Holy Cas reporters received the Crown Clan’s instructions: keep broadcasting.
They followed the Crown Clan aboard the starship.
Meanwhile, Boel’s Spirit Eye Barney was racing home—for Boel had just announced it had fallen, the president missing or dead.
Another long-lived race, crumbled in an instant, and rebel, revolutionary, and other fleets descended, bombing, then occupying the presidential palace—though with less attention as Holy Cas was busy celebrating.
The contrast couldn’t have been starker.
Yet, against expectations, the Boel civilians, previously mostly at peace, now joyfully welcomed the end of long-lived rule.
As for the Spirit Eyes, they had done their best for Boel—Holy Cas people didn’t understand, nor care, too busy following their stream.
Amos boarded Holy Cas Ninth Army’s flagship.
The Ninth Army had reached the scene right after the Third.
Yemeng bowed to Amos and the Crown Clan.
“Your Majesty, princes, little highness—the Tenth Army has also netted the Hymn Organization ship fleeing; it should be one of their bosses. He’s running wild, knowing we’re on him, changing course toward the nearest pollution zone, but his ship only has stealth, no warp capability.”
“Pursue.”
Amos said coldly.
“Yes, sir!”
Chu Zao just stood by Amos.
When Amos boarded, he set the cub down.
Faced with so many people, so many cameras, the cub was uneasy—but in the end, Amos took his hand.
Chu Zao stretched up, his little hand swallowed by Amos’s palm.
All Holy Cas saw their little highness, bundled like a dumpling, pattering after Amos, cute and wobbly.
The Crown Clan all followed close behind.
With His Majesty present, Amos was always the focal point.
The starship, lacking the proper AI voice, relied on temporarily installed Yuan: “At your command!”
The Holy Cas state-of-the-art ship accelerated in pursuit.
Off-camera—
Frey looked at his siblings.
“Third Brother, if I’m not wrong, we got the order to return to Holy Cas Star almost a month ago, right?”
Feiman was honestly baffled.
“Haha… ha ha…”
Beard hiding half his face, only bright eyes visible, this young man’s uniform wasn’t even standard-issue—too casual, noblish. He laughed awkwardly, scratching his head.
“Well, see, thing is—how about I show you our results? Hey, you have to realize, we took out who knows how many beast armies, carved out a whole safe zone! And if we hadn’t finished off the Boel Revolutionaries, that neutral sector wouldn’t have stabilized so quick.”
“So?”
Anya eyed him.
“Ah… so—”
Feeney gave in.
“Fine, fine, we got lost when our nav system broke—okay? You gonna keep grilling me? Showin’ off your brains, huh?”
“Third Brother, how long have you had that beard? Looks even longer. You want a trim?”
“Hey—don’t touch my beard.”
Feeney glared at Anya.
“I’m counting on this beard for dignity, you know!”
Initially joking, he looked to Amos and Chu Zao.
His face fell.
“So what’s really going on? I thought Big Brother Amos was just scaring me into hurrying back.”
But it turned out real?
A real cub?
And a bow user at that.
Feeney felt a twinge of kinship.
“But that bow’s still too weak, he’s behind in all respects, needs a lot more training.”
Feeney was muttering, then clutched his head.
“Ahh, will Amos beat me for coming back so late? Disappearing a whole army for a month—”
His face darkened.
“Amos will kill me.”
Anya: …
Feiman: …
No need to take it that far.
“He won’t have to.”
Feiman said.
“We have better ways now.”
“Huh?”
Feeney looked at Feiman.
He had only seen Zao Zao’s sudden change that one arrow, not yet realizing how different the little cub was from the rest.
Anya, ever irascible, pressed his hands together: “Amen.”
Frey couldn’t help but laugh.
Feeney: ????
He didn’t get what they were on about, and glanced at the medbay—where Hel was injecting painkillers.
Plainly, today’s events had gotten Hel moving well past his limits; simple pills were no longer enough for the spreading pain.
“Teacher Hel—”
Feeney’s face was hidden behind his beard, hard to read.
He considered, looked at his comms, wanted to say something, and didn’t.
Better wait a little.
Saying this, he suddenly realized—
“Eh? Wait, did I forget to issue the next orders to the Third Army? My comms too… Eh, Feiman, quick, let me borrow yours.”
Feeney looked up dazed.
Meanwhile, the Third Army, now in complete control of the sector, watched as Feeney boarded the Ninth Army flagship.
Commander and aide: …
Prince Feeney!! What about us? What are our orders? You’re just going to leave without a backward glance??
Huh?!!
Just as they spoke, the Ninth Army flagship moved at high speed.
The targeted Hymn Organization ship had been shredded by cannon fire.
Only barely made the edge of the pollution zone, then crashed in emergency landing.
The Ninth Army drew up right after.
As the stricken ship staggered for escape, Amos led everyone to the hatch.
The wind howled; standing by Amos at the door, the cub’s scarf was tidied by his parent.
Amos said softly: “Wait for Daddy—”
He knelt to adjust the scarf, his coronet-halo shimmering blackly—fractured, like burnt-out cinders, enshrouded in a smell of smoke. His white wings unfurled, shielding the cub, then in a blur left the ship.
The reporters stared, stunned.
“My hands and feet are trembling.”
Knowing the Crown Clan’s power and experiencing it are two different things.
That bloody aura—no wonder the word “Tyrant” echoes from every world Amos expanded to.
“My god—”
“Hurry, bring the cameras!”
Amos’ spirit sword in hand.
He speared through; the fleeing Hymn ship crashed to the ground.
The Hymn leader survived, missing an arm, crawling from a split cockpit.
His cloak flung aside, a plain face twisted with madness and ferocity. Behind him, countless disturbed beasts.
That half-formed beast horde was, for Amos, just another slaughter.
He didn’t even show an expression—only vented his anger and discontent.
Beast limbs flew, Amos walked through blood to stand over the Hymn lieutenant.
“Caught you.”
All cameras zoomed, dodging splattered blood if possible, but sometimes even they were hit, while Amos stood unsullied, sword dripping crimson. The sight could freeze anyone.
“……”
The Hymn leader’s face went blank, breath stopping, then snapped back.
“Heretic, you long-lived are all heretics, fated to be eaten by the void, abandoned to destruction. That’s the only outcome for your kind.”
“Is that so?”
Amos drove his sword through the man’s chest.
He looked up, as if gazing through the camera at the remaining Hymn Organization.
“Yet it’s always been you dying, hasn’t it?”
Past, present, and future.
That was a parent’s rage, seeing his cub bullied.
The Hymn Organization had targeted his child.
The stream froze on Amos’s fierce, shadowed eyes.
It was a warning, a formal declaration of war against the Hymn Organization.
Blood will flow—a fight to the bitter end!
This time, the cub’s eyes weren’t covered. Chu Zao’s heart thumped wildly.
“Baba’s so cool,” he murmured.
With the stream over, all were led away by Ninth Army, awaiting reassignment.
Amos was discussing aftermath with Commander Yemeng—this was the first time the Crown Clan clearly showed their fist to every hostile force.
Chu Zao was led off by Frey and the others for a checkup.
“He’s so tiny, isn’t he?”
Feeney, after settling the Third Army, came over, circled the cub three times left, three times right, eyes wide, curiously poking and prodding him.
Chu Zao stared back—such a long beard, you couldn’t see his face.
This… Third Uncle?
“Unfair.”
Anya, reflecting nearby, complained.
“How come Zao Zao never clocked him with the halo?”
Anya had taken his fair share of the cub’s headbutts.
But now Chu Zao was much calmer after being raised so well.
Feeney had totally benefited from being lost.
“So what’s the exam for? Why the medbay?”
Feeney circled the cub a few times, then looked at Frey and the others.
He hadn’t caught Anya’s muttering and stepped closer.
Watching the bundled cub lift his head or lower it on command, so soft and polite—“thank you”—it was impossible to believe he was a Crown Clan. He recalled how rebellious they all were as kids, running wild, climbing everywhere!
So—
How did Second Brother find a cub like this?
Feeney didn’t get it. It didn’t make sense.
Most incredible—Crown Clan have cubs at all?? Hahaha, never expected it!!
“Second Brother brought him back from the habitat—”
“Mmhmm—”
Feeney watched, indicating he was listening. He was smiling, but his eyes showed nothing. He was the most unpredictable in the clan; regular folks avoided him.
Just then, Amos came back, pushing open the medbay door.
All the Crown Clan inside turned to look.
At Amos’s cold face, not yet out of his fury.
Just then, Amos looked toward Feeney, ever unreliable, cracking his knuckles—“click.”
Feeney froze, smile stiffening; ominous feeling rising—
He swallowed, decided to go on the offensive—or at least drag them into it.
“Ah, Brother Amos, I just heard, Feiman and Anya said you suffered so much, after endless hardships, yearning for new blood for the Crown Clan, praying to the heavens, and finally found a cub at the habitat and brought him home, didn’t you? So heroic!”
The little cub, who’d been listening, looked over in surprise: Huh?
Chu Zao, finally free of his heavy clothes, his little wings at last able to move, happily flapped them twice—which made everyone go suddenly quiet.
Anya: …
Feiman: …
Wait a minute, is that really what we said?? We only said a few words, didn’t we????
Amos: After endless hardship, praying to the heavens…?