Lien could not understand.
Lien was pondering where things had gone wrong—
But most of all, why could this cub speak directly into his head?!
At this moment, hiding in a corner, Lien was both dishevelled and bleak, hugging his head in doubt—
No, probably it was just like this. He was familiar with every good hiding spot, and after returning to Holy Cas, had put plenty of effort into that.
He always habitually mastered every dead end and corner of each location, and that’s how he found this spot.
So probably it was just talk—
No one could find him.
He could organize his bad mood here and suppress everything.
“Hey? Anybody there? Can you hear me? I’m Zao Zao—”
Lien: …So why, exactly, is this happening?!
Meanwhile, in the Holy Cas royal court.
Little Chu Zao was sitting on the bed in pajamas.
Frey came back with water to find the little one’s wings folded forward, curled up on the bed, holding his golden crown, mumbling softly.
“What’s wrong?”
Frey asked, handing the cup to the cub.
Chu Zao set the halo on his knees, took the cup with both hands, gulped down half, then, with messy curls and sleepy eyes, looked at Frey: “Thank you, uncle.”
His babyish voice was so soft it could melt anyone’s heart.
Frey agreed, then heard Chu Zao speak again.
“Uncle, can we go out now?”
“Why?”
The cub looked down at the little crown on his knees. In the warm lamplight of the night, his eyes gleamed slightly as he stared at that dejected strand of spiritual energy.
From before, it was obvious—among the Crown Clan, few had been “bothered” by the cub.
If nothing was wrong, he wasn’t the kind of cub to disturb people.
But now, the spiritual thread twining the cub’s crown conveyed a mood as if about to cry, not wanting to be found, while pitifully clutching the cub’s crown, flickering and unstable—obviously very unsteady.
—So, so pitiful.
Baba told Zao Zao:
When you meet a problem, solve it.
Zao Zao clambered out of bed, holding his little halo like a compass, looking at Frey.
“Uncle, please take Zao Zao to help. Let’s find him, patch up his halo, and he won’t feel so bad anymore.”
Frey studied Chu Zao—judging logically, the sad Crown Clan member was probably Lien?
Outside the court, where Amos moved with careful efficiency, Frey sent him a message.
“What’s the matter?”
Feeney, trailing Amos, glanced over at the news.
“Zao Zao woke up. Wants to go out.”
Amos answered offhandedly.
“Any updates from the Northern Free Federation?”
“Just got word—Xijin, as suspected, has been dealt with. Too weak, not what we expected from a top Hymn Organization leader. Anya tracked down a Hymn starship with some conversations between Cheng Xuan and the organization— Second brother, honestly, the Hymn Organization just wants long-lived races extinct. If it didn’t concern the Crown Clan, they’d hardly conflict with the Holy Cas future plan.”
Feeney smiled, but his scarlet eyes stayed cold and distant, a longbow in his hand, fresh blood splattered on his face.
“Though, one thing—the young princess of the Northern Free Federation doesn’t get along with Xijin, always at odds even before today. She didn’t stick with the Federation’s party tonight.”
Amos turned his head.
“Only one starship left Holy Cas in a hurry tonight—a Holy Chalice Clan ship.”
“Exactly. We just got word, the princess’s ‘new friend’ tonight was the young chief of the Holy Chalice Clan, traced already. If needed, we can give chase anytime. Their starship’s not fast, and with the Chalice Clan’s current state—”
Feeney drew his bowstring.
An arc of silver-black light flared from his fingertips, piercing the sky in a blink.
“Looks like the Chalice Clan chief is asking us to take care of their legacy.”
“No rush,”
Amos decided to finish Holy Cas’s internal business first.
Next—
was Cheng Xuan.
Amos turned, walking a few steps, pausing to look back at Feeney.
“Stick to Feiman.”
Feeney: ?
“Why?”
Amos was perfectly calm: “Because I don’t trust you either.”
These days, whenever Amos looked at Feeney, he always got the feeling Feeney was seconds from chaos.
Feeney, bow still drawn, froze: “Eh, what—?”
Talk about trust issues—just look at Feeney.
*
Where Lien was.
The noise in his mind faded; he let out a long breath, tucked away in a cramped, well-screened corner, all but invisible from outside.
He slumped, limp, into the nook.
He glanced up at the sky, then down, letting his mind go blank.
His crown glowed dimly on his head, edges slowly fragmenting.
It didn’t feel good, but he thought he could still tough it out.
He could hold on—for a day or two before asking the cub to help, it wasn’t too late.
Before returning, he’d been away from Holy Cas so long.
Everything, people included, had changed far too much.
He recalled Clansis as he’d been—
‘If a Crown Clan must bear this alone, I don’t want all the doubts aimed at my child.’
The old Emperor Clansis under the stars, his scarlet eyes veering on madness—Clansis had been a great ruler, countless people chasing after him.
But by then, Prince Solan had been gone for some time, and Clansis’s actions grew ever more radical, though grief always lingered in his eyes.
‘I’ll do whatever needs to be done—it’s enough if I take the blame. Amos will be the last Crown Clan emperor, also the most glorious there will ever be. As for the Holy Cas Empire, all we can do is stop here… Lien, can you understand me?’
Yes, I understand.
‘Don’t interfere. Control your feelings. Be an outsider, guide the plan, pass my wishes to Amos.’
Yes, he was always meant to stand by, let humanity grow after the Crown Clan, let go. Both for Holy Cas and for the Crown Clan—when all his old friends had gone, he was like a homeless ghost adrift, nowhere to belong.
Lien let out a deep breath.
It’s okay.
He’d soon have those feelings under control.
Once the cub fixed his crown, he’d slip quietly away; all the plans of their time should be changed now. He knew it. Maybe next time, he wouldn’t even have a reason to come back—die out there, for Holy Cas, for the Crown Clan, and then sleep in the depths of space with his beloved friends and kin—
Just give me one night, he thought, to pack it all away and become that hidden shadow Crown once more…
A rustling sound arose.
Lien stiffened.
No, not… right?
He tried to convince himself not to look up.
“Can’t see me, can’t see me, can’t see me…”
A very soft cub voice sounded.
“Uncle, look, there—”
“Oh.”
That was Frey’s voice.
“There’s Grandpa Lien.”
The little cub’s sweet, sleepy tone.
“Why won’t Grandpa look up?”
Lien: So WHY?! Why did you find me?!
Go, go! Let me have some peace alone!!
“Is he…crying?”
The cub wondered quietly.
Lien’s facade broke, and he jerked his head up.
“Crying? No, don’t be silly. And why’d you come here?! Isn’t that weird?— Wait, I meant to ask, why are you holding your crown? And pointing it at me? What does that mean?!”
Lien didn’t know—there was a spiritual thread wrapped around the cub’s crown, which had tracked its way here and linked up with Lien’s crown.
Frey, carrying the cub, stepped forward. In truth, Frey and Lien were well acquainted—old friends of their strict father, Lien had visited Dwight Palace more than most.
But few could truly get along with someone like Lien.
The little one met Lien’s gaze, crown returning to his head, tiny hand reaching for Lien’s crown.
For a split second, Lien’s hair stood on end.
So this was how they repaired crowns??
Wait a minute—
How come you just reach out like that?
But even now, Lien stayed stubborn.
“I just needed some quiet time to myself. I have my own arrangements after this—”
His crown’s collapse halted.
It felt…strange.
Lien’s eyes widened slowly—
He knew little about the cub.
Or, he’d always avoided getting too involved with the new Holy Cas.
He was a remnant left over from the previous Holy Cas era.
So was Cheng Xuan.
As the cub’s power began mending his crown, Lien saw what other Crown Clan who’d received cub’s help had seen—
Atop a treetop, a tiny, lonely cub in a battered little nest—
His wings drooped as he gazed dazedly into the distance.
Lien’s eyes stretched wide—the cub in this vision was so small, soft and frail, body rocked by the wind, wings blown to one side.
He was trying desperately to steady the rickety nest—
But he was far too young, and the wind too strong. It was hopeless.
Lien watched as both nest and cub tumbled down from the treetop.
The battered little nest flipped, trapping the cub underneath as he hit hard.
“Are you…are you all right?”
Lien made to step forward, offering a hand, but quickly realized he couldn’t do anything.
Only after a while did the cub crawl out, slowly patting off the dust and grass, then glancing at the large tree, then his poorly made nest, then curling up beside it.
His tiny head drooped: “No one cares where Zao Zao is… It’s so hard… Zao Zao can’t do it…”
The little one’s babyish voice was so disappointed, head buried in his knees.
Just like Lien had done before.
But now, the snowy little wings quivered gently.
After a long while, the cub, eyes reddened, got shakily to his feet, looked up to the treetop—“Zao Zao doesn’t need anyone. Try again.”
Why draw close?
Different experiences, different feelings, yet the cub understood.
He hoped not to be found, yet also ached for someone to discover him.
Lien blinked in a trance.
His fingers clenched, trembling slightly.
The cub fixed his crown, then turned in Frey’s arms to reach out for a hug.
The little one was no fool, he was sensitive to feelings—once done, he wanted to be held.
Bundled warm by Frey, the cub completed his task, blinking up: “Uncle, shall we go back now?”
“I…”
Lien instinctively stood, staggering a couple of steps, stretching out a hand, reaching for the little one.
Frey paused, the cub staring round-eyed.
Earnestly, in a soft voice: “Any more plans and arrangements?”
Still holding Frey’s neck, the little one added, “Zao Zao knows—Third Uncle says you can call him Grandpa With-A-Plan.”
He had learned.
Grand-pa-with-a-plan…
Lien hiccupped, hearing Frey’s faint mockery.
“No, I just—”
He didn’t know what to say, actually stammering for once.
He felt like he ought to say something.
He looked into those honey-colored eyes.
Remembering that fleeting vision, wanting to tell the cub that many cared for him—but Lien’s nature had him tripping over the words.
The cub noticed Lien’s trembling hand. Out tonight, warmly wrapped by Frey, the little one thought of the pitiful spiritual thread he’d seen, glanced at Frey, then at Lien, then took off his own little scarf and handed it to the thin, shabbily dressed Lien.
The scarf was still warm from the little one.
Lien froze a moment, holding it lightly, looking at Chu Zao’s bobbling halo, his eyes lost for a moment.
Clansis—there are things he’d been sure of, but now, not so absolute.
About your conclusions…
……
Not far away, in another location.
A hidden starship stood silent.
A figure waited in front of it, quietly watching the sky, as if expecting someone.
Everything was calm and still.
Until a half-grown youth in pitch-black uniform approached.
“Teacher.”
The teen’s voice was icy, his actions stiff, like a flawlessly programmed machine.
“Ling Ye.”
Seeing the one he’d been waiting for, Cheng Xuan smiled, turning to the boy.
“You remembered we came here together. As expected, you got here first.”
“Teacher, they say you’ve defected.”
Ling Ye wasted no time on pleasantries, his hand already drifting unconsciously to his waist—
—where a power pistol was holstered.
First in their year at Holy Cas’s top military academy, Ling Ye was known for tremendous battle and reflex skills.
“Yes.”
Cheng Xuan replied lightly, smiling.
“My loyalty has always been to His Majesty Clansis, following his every order to the letter, preparing everything for the aftermath—how Holy Cas will continue once the Crown Clan is gone. That requires power, status; I firmly believe in Clansis’s principle: strength and ambition are the basis for continuity.”
He agreed so quickly that Ling Ye was briefly stunned.
Haltingly, “But, but that’s wrong. Teacher, you always told me, loyalty to the Crown… so that’s not right; we still have the little highness.”
Cheng Xuan looked at him, slowly drawing his own power weapon, the cold steel’s reflection casting eerie light on his face, making even his gentle smile seem menacing.
“Teacher was right about you, Ling Ye—”
Cheng Xuan stepped closer, smiling: “You’ve always liked soft, fluffy things, even though you hide it well—”
Ling Ye froze.
“You’re actually a gentle child, you just always believed you were doing the right thing—for Holy Cas, for the Crown Clan’s future, so you always gave your best. You asked the little highness’s guards about it, didn’t you?”
Cheng Xuan shook his head, smiling.
“Are you angry you’re too young, on the wrong side, that there’s no chance? Forget it—Clansis taught that ambition and strength are Holy Cas’s only sources of power. Amos has proved that. As for the too-gentle little highness, I refuse to let the plan end because of him. But Amos won’t let us threats exist, not me, not you—why not leave with teacher? Keep hope alive, preserve the flame. We can continue to shape Holy Cas our way.”
“Teacher…”
A shadow crossed Ling Ye’s face, then—click—
The power pistol primed.
“You’ve changed.”
Wind. A clash.
In a flash, Ling Ye and Cheng Xuan exchanged blows.
Cheng Xuan was a top human combatant, and Ling Ye was still a bit lacking.
Driven back, Ling Ye lunged again, blade in left hand, gun angling for an opening. A mental struggle swirled overhead.
“Teacher, you’ve lost your way—standing high for too long, thinking like those others. My father was right, your obsession with Clansis, this plan, has driven you mad.”
Cheng Xuan laughed aloud.
“Standing high, it’s easy to lose sight, isn’t it? You topped the league again, flowers, applause, everyone’s envy, you were so proud Ling Ye. Teacher rarely hears you speak so much… but now I have.”
In that moment, Ling Ye sensed something very wrong.
But too late.
He was under heavy pressure, desperate to intercept Cheng Xuan before the Holy Cas forces arrived. He fired relentlessly, but Cheng Xuan stepped aside, letting the bullet hit his chest.
“Teacher, you—”
Footsteps approached from behind.
Blood beaded on Ling Ye’s cheek as he turned in confusion.
From the shadows, a pair of scarlet eyes gazed their way, a longsword glimmering with dripping blood.
“Amos… Your Majesty…”
Ling Ye’s gun hand trembled, but the next second, Cheng Xuan caught his hand.
Ling Ye spun around.
“Teacher? Shall we—”
Cheng Xuan raised a hand, finger to his lips, the now white-haired old man smiling gently.
“Don’t be sad. Teacher didn’t have many days left anyway. Your Majesty Amos—”
Still nothing odd in Cheng Xuan’s voice.
“You’ve seen how deviation from Clansis’s plans will affect the next generation… Let it end with me, let these good children take their rightful place. It’s my duty.”
“I don’t like being plotted against.”
Amos’s tone was calm as his spiritual sword vanished.
“But your proposal, I’ll reconsider.”
Until now, the Holy Cas future plan had been completely crossed out in Amos’s mind.
Whether connected directly or indirectly—all involved.
Not that all would be dealt with, but Amos would not allow them near Little Chu Zao’s circle again.
Cheng Xuan looked skyward: “Little Highness…”
Too gentle, the little highness…
He, one of Clansis’s era, spent his life pursuing Clansis, only to find that losing the core and the “faith” led everything out of control. He wanted to stop it, but was powerless, only able to hasten the process before Amos’s frantic, protective reaction.
Is being too gentle a flaw?
…
Under another sky, in his uncle’s arms, the little cub, sensitive and soft, quietly asked Lien: “Was it because of Zao Zao that…you were disappointed?”
He was too aware, too obedient.
He’d already noticed something was off lately, thought it through, and asked with care.
Lien’s response was quick:
“No.”
In an instant, his whole presence softened.
“Not at all, it has nothing to do with you, Zao Zao—you’re a very, very good little Crown Clan…”
As he spoke, he instinctively turned away, ears reddening from this rare frankness, wanting closeness but not knowing how.
…
Was he, perhaps, disappointed in the little highness?
And as Cheng Xuan closed his eyes in front of Ling Ye, he sighed as well—not at all.
After his initial confusion, he soon realized… gentle strength was another kind of power.
He had stood so many times behind the little highness, feeling scorched, too afraid to reach out.
He said again and again to those around him—the little highness was too soft, as if convincing himself, as if soothing something within.
He saw Amos’s increasing mistrust, saw the faint opposition of those lost families, had lost himself too, but reacted quickly. Yet powerless to change it, maybe ruin together or being sidelined by Amos was best. But a child like Ling Ye…did not deserve such an end. So he began to hurry the process, surprised by the speed of events set off by others, but let it take its course.
He never dared approach Little Chu Zao, not even once, and the little highness hardly knew him—that was for the best. As a remnant of the old plan, he feared warmth, afraid that if he reached for it, he’d never let go.
Holy Cas Future Plan—Cheng Xuan had once said, “Colleagues, we are one.”
But now.
Cheng Xuan said to Ling Ye once more.
“Child, do the things you want to do. Those plans aren’t your problem anymore—from now on, we are no longer one.”