Cub 071: The Crown Clan’s Future Without Zao Zao

The starship from the Hymn Organization plummeted at high speed.

An unknown force of spirit power emanated from Kindness, fending off all sorts of attacks.

That spirit power did indeed give the Crown Clan a sense of déjà vu.

It was reminiscent of the long-lost immortal race, the Soul Clan—but only just. The Soul Clan’s spirit power could incarnate as formidable energy entities; what Kindness possessed was nothing but a distorted phantom, knotted into a mess, with a fake, counterfeit texture.

Little Chu Zao at Amos’s side was handed over to Feeney.

Immediately, Little Chu Zao’s vision blurred.

The young cub had yet to learn many combat techniques; the speed of this fight left the little one flustered, unable to keep up.

Feeney reached out and grabbed the scruff of the cub’s neck.

Nearby, several Crown Clan members had already moved.

Their spirit power launched repeated attacks against that twisted energy.

Soon, Kindness could no longer resist, her spirit power swiftly contracting, the starship disintegrating midair and dropping downwards.

Amos hovered in the air, his crimson eyes calm, laced with chill, expressionless as he looked down at the spirit-wrapped Kindness.

Under attack, Kindness’s cloak was tattered, revealing a glimpse of pink at the hem.

“No need to rush.”

Amos narrowed his eyes.

“That’s right, but what’s up with that spirit power?”

Feiman flew closer. Not far off stood Lien, removing emergency escape pods from the Hymn Organization’s starship, ready to prevent their escape.

“Uncle Lien—”

Feiman glanced at Lien.

“We’ll handle things here. Once we catch her, she can’t run. With that odd thing on her, I bet the Hymn Organization might try a rescue.”

Lien quickly agreed.

Wings flapped.

“I’ll take people and secure the perimeter, link up with Anya.”

Kindness crashed heavily onto this sparsely inhabited drifter planet.

Amos and Feiman followed closely, Holy Cas military starships still descending. Troops soon disembarked to secure the planet, while the cub and Feeney stood near the hatch.

The cub still clutched his golden little bow, peering down.

Neither Amos nor Feiman rushed to attack—

Though Holy Cas had accidentally taken out a Hymn Organization high-ranker before, these people were slippery as eels, impossible to grip but intensely loathsome. They stopped at nothing to create trouble for immortals, spreading cults, using the lost and uncertain as pawns, rarely involving themselves directly.

Their bizarre faith left Holy Cas at a loss.

So, the Crown Clan had little intel—they worshipped a “god,” believed immortals had stolen the star system’s power, and that with immortals gone and their holy ritual offered, their “god” would descend and bring “justice.”

What was the holy ritual? Unknown.

What even was their “god”? Unknown.

And the power Kindness now displayed was even more impossible for a normal human.

This was the first time they’d seen anything like it.

As the smoke cleared—

Kindness struggled shakily to her feet, staring at Amos and Feiman.

Behind them, multiple military starships hovered midair. On the frontmost ship, Kindness could make out that familiar little figure.

Little Chu Zao saw her too.

“It’s—it’s that person from the banquet.”

The cub, clearly, remembered her.

Only, something was a bit different.

Little Chu Zao turned to Feeney.

Feeney, too, wielded a longbow. At least, right now, he looked reliable, standing quietly behind the cub, crimson eyes coolly locked ahead. Only after the cub spoke did he meet his gaze.

“Seems everywhere except Holy Cas is full of holes.”

It’s only because this was the Amos era—Amos was strong and ruthless, his deterrence alone kept things under control. Otherwise, who could guess what state the world would be in?

The sky was dark, with neither stars nor moon, but that little golden coronet, just like the golden bow, shone bright.

Kindness looked at that light—her body began twitching, warped by unfamiliar power, the spirit force behind her ballooned like a monster, like swamp muck, growing.

She stared at the Crown Clan, her eyes brimming with obvious, unhidden malice.

So dazzling it was—nauseating.

“Northern Free Federation—you must only be a bit over tKindnessty?”

Amos spoke, and sent another bout of spirit power.

The Hymn Organization had an ancient history; they’d always suspected trouble in the Northern Free Federation, but never thought their upper echelons would be so young.

That viscous incarnate spirit monster writhed and rolled—it actually blocked Amos’s blow.

Though Amos wasn’t at full power, it was a rare thing to see.

He narrowed his eyes, almost intrigued—

Beneath that calm and steady surface, Amos was always a radical, a born warrior.

In the next instant, Amos vanished from where he’d stood.

Kindness panicked for a split second, bones cracking with the movement. She howled in pain, yet was forcibly moved by spirit power not her own, striking back.

Feiman stood not far off, spirit spear not even drawn, just watching.

“The offset is rapid—by rights, that spirit is strong, but not hers. Why?”

In truth, it was only ten or tKindnessty seconds.

Amos, holding his spirit longsword still marked with Little Chu Zao’s teeth, steadied himself a step away.

He watched the foe attack and dodge at speeds impossible for normal humans—no, perhaps not even technically human.

Kindness’s figure twisted, as if merely a vessel for this alien spirit. She moved by instinct, but after that first cry of pain—she was smiling.

“Unbreakable—as expected, only ‘god’ is supreme, the only one that can save us. You immortals are just thieves stealing power! Even if I go before you to serve ‘god’, you too will march toward your doom!”

She laughed maniacally, tears running down her face.

“Are you confused? Why was I chosen by ‘god’? Ever since I was small, I was beaten, scolded, because we were weak. When I was near death, only ‘god’ saved me—gave me dignity, status—gave me strength to fight back, that’s my ‘faith’—you damned immortals just don’t get it!”

No rescue would come.

Kindness knew it.

Those bitten by the Crown Clan would not be saved.

She could go serve “god”—but she’d rather, at her life’s end, give all she had to “god”—even if it only hurt immortals by one degree.

“You can’t break through ‘god’s’ spirit power…”

Kindness twisted a grin.

But the words weren’t yet out of her mouth.

From afar, a tiny arrow streaked through the sky.

Kindness froze, watching as it struck the spirit monster wrapping her—golden light flashed, and instantly “melted” a hole in the energy.

What???

Why?

The cub, standing far off and puffing up his cheeks, hadn’t expected this either. His little head poked out in surprise, letting out a soft, cute: “Eh?”

Who’s supposed to say “eh” here?

What kind of spirit power did you have?

A Hymn-exterminator?

Thought Amos, as his own spirit power struck true.

Blood spattered, a thud followed. Something hot and wet splattered Kindness’s face.

Her eyes widened, and only after a moment did she cry out—

On the ground lay an arm, cleaved by Amos’s spirit blade.

He still wanted to study this—Amos hadn’t aimed for the kill, just squinted and gestured at Kindness’s other arm with his sword.

“What’s going on?”

Feeney didn’t react for a beat. He looked between this scene and the cub.

Zao Zao doesn’t know.

The cub, holding his bow, looked up, cheeks still puffed out.

Blinked bewilderedly.

“Hearing her talk made Zao Zao very angry.”

So many eyes turned to Little Chu Zao, making the cub shrink back slightly.

Whether it was Amos or spirit-enhanced Kindness, their speed was far beyond a five-year-old cub’s limit.

But now that all was still, with Cupid’s bow in hand, the cub acted on instinct.

“Amazing, amazing.”

At some point, Feiman had returned, clapping at the side even in tense circumstances.

“Wow, so strong, even better than Brother Amos.”

Feeney joined the applause.

“See, Zao Zao, Brother Amos fought forever—not as good as you.”

Feeney even shot a look at the other Holy Cas soldiers waiting on board.

What are you freezing for?

Clap!

Give the cub plenty of encouragement.

Amos glanced over—his face, originally blank—was, honestly, enough.

Then he saw Little Chu Zao, embarrassed by praise, still holding his bow, just yearningly looking over.

A little milky voice calling: “Baba—Baba—Baba is the best! She’s a bad person!! Everything she says is bad—Baba told Zao Zao, we don’t listen!”

Ah, good child.

Amos paused and took time to applaud.

Watching the cub’s eyes light up. Still in his fluffy pajamas with no collar, the small cub instinctively stood tall, fussed with his nonexistent collar, his halo shining—if his dragon tail could show, it’d be wagging.

A moment ago, still a bit unconfident, the cub now sprang upright.

Amos’s lips curled faintly.

All the tension, all the anxiety, seemed to melt away because of this little one.

Hearing those wild Hymn Organization theories, pointless anger—every Crown Clan’s backstory was grimmer, one unnatural death after another, from birth waiting for the crown to break—

It all seemed ridiculous; resentment grew.

But things were different this time.

That soft little voice shouted.

As if afraid he’d get upset by these lies.

Was this the cub comforting them?

Amos pondered—felt it was a unique Zao Zao gift.

And in pain and humiliation, treated as a clown, as a performer, Kindness’s face twisted further.

She grew more unhinged.

She tried using her last life force to wound Amos.

She attacked.

Bones twisted, flesh dissolved, she morphed rapidly into a bloody pulp.

Her tragic history, her childhood trauma—everything, to these arrogant immortals, was only a joke. She’d make these thieves pay for all they’d stolen from her.

It’s how the Hymn Organization had always come together.

“No use, it’s useless—the Crown Clan is just the same—”

Kindness’s voice was already breaking, twisted; she’d long gone mad, all reason or logic lost.

“Want to take off another piece next time?”

“Leaving her a life should be enough to figure things out, right?”

“Can she survive?”

“Who knows. Anyway, from the looks of it, second brother hasn’t got impatient enough to blow her to pieces with full force; she might die herself. What’s up with this spirit power? Is it their experiment? Are they experimenting on immortals???”

Feiman and Feeney had zero worries for Amos, were always ready, and even found time to discuss the most efficient course of action—killing, sure; anything else, bit out of their professional depth.

Aboard the ship, Little Chu Zao, full of confidence, readied his second arrow. He lined up his aim—

But soon, the cub blinked, and slowly lowered his hand. Too fast, Zao Zao couldn’t keep up.

The cub, for a moment so sure, now glanced instinctively at Feiman and Feeney beside him.

The small one was shielded behind them.

He couldn’t keep up.

Still couldn’t help much.

“It’s okay—”

Feeney looked over, noticed the little one instinctively relying on him, and took two steps to stand behind Little Chu Zao.

“Zao Zao, pull the string, wait for your shot, steady, *breathe*—no rush.”

At times like this, Feeney finally seemed reliable, smiling kindly at the cub.

“Don’t worry, as long as you don’t accidentally shoot your papa, nothing else matters, Zao Zao can do it.”

For the cub, this was growth.

Crown Clan cubs do indeed need to learn in war and blood.

They will possess immense strength, and they will know they are part of a whole—behind every growing cub,

there are countless loving eyes watching—those are strong, powerful backers.

Live combat is precious training for the cub; Feiman said nothing, simply stepping aside.

They had no real concern for Amos.

As for dodging the cub’s love and peace arrows?

That was Amos’s business—a minor issue, nothing he couldn’t handle.

Little Chu Zao heard Third Uncle’s words, slowly drew the bow, aiming at a battlefield where he couldn’t tell friend from foe.

Can Zao Zao do it?

—‘Only Zao Zao can do it.’

The cub’s eyes opened a little.

He seemed to vaguely hear the gentle, alien voice of the being who brought him here, claiming to be a system.

Since bringing him here, she’d almost never appeared.

“Only Zao Zao can do it”—she repeated.

The voice was even weaker than last time.

Little Chu Zao felt the world go silent for a moment; everything seemed frozen.

He hadn’t reacted yet.

That voice continued gently, coaxing like talking to a little one: ‘I told Zao Zao from the start, only you can do it. Without Zao Zao, the Crown Clan wouldn’t be like this—’

In that instant, Little Chu Zao seemed to see the end for a Crown Clan with no him, for Holy Cas—

Everyone he cared for had disappeared; he stood alone in the void, no one waiting for him—the Crown Clan drove themselves mad with torment, twisted, blackened, their massive forms collapsing, and all across the stars, explosive calamities erupted again and again.

Holy Cas’s crimson flag tore and fell, everything collapsing.

He heard an unknown voice—Amos? Frey? Other Crown Clan he knew? Or many already passed away—‘Fate, unstoppable doom—so infuriating.’

Yet unresistable.

In a blur, everything coalesced into a familiar figure.

That was the archangel he knew so well.

With a compassionate smile, he said to the little cub over and over again.

“You must be good. You’re different—you need to smooth your edges, fit in, be a real little angel, obey, be sensible. Everything you go through now is for the future, so you can finally become the angel you want to be. Accept fate, cherish all—this is what I’ve always taught you, isn’t it?”

The cub would cry after these words, over and over.

Why must it be so? Is it really supposed to be?

In the past—

The cub would hide behind his wings, arms wrapping himself up.

Maybe this is just how it is.

But Baba told Zao Zao.

It isn’t.

Big Uncle told Zao Zao, Third Uncle told Zao Zao, Aunty told Zao Zao, Little Uncle told Zao Zao…

Everyone told Zao Zao—it isn’t.

They resisted; they raged at that so-called fate—

The wind brushed his cheek as the cub drew his bow, listened to it wail, then finally roar.

Before, bullied, he could only cry alone, fearing he didn’t fit, that he was a freak.

But now, Little Chu Zao thought of that archangel’s face just seen—

He’d tried to teach the wrong things, wanted Zao Zao to become his vision.

The cub used to only cower and cry—but now, he felt anger.

A swoosh—

Feeney and Feiman, standing behind him, glanced over instinctively.

And saw the dark gold outline of the cub’s coronet ignite, flames spreading—black fire enveloped the whole coronet, gilded the outline, and black fire blazed on the little bow, too.

The cub locked on a single point.

His spirit seemed to surge.

Feeney and Feiman exchanged glances.

Feeney, too, drew his bow behind the cub, eyes narrowed.

Kindness was going all out to hurt Amos.

But Amos, truly, handled it easily.

She wanted to scream in rage.

In the next breath, Amos sensed something, and nimbly leaped away.

He raised his arm and swung without care.

What the hell…

Kindness thought.

Same as before—either you can’t break through “god’s” force, or you’ll blast her to nothing in pursuit of a “clue”—would they really destroy what they wanted?

Kindness sneered.

Then she heard a soft fracturing sound.

Time seemed to slow as her already-twisted form turned her head, eyes wide, pupils shrinking instantly.

Reflected inside was a tiny arrow, already through her outermost spirit shield.

How…could this be?

Impossible, she couldn’t possibly dodge this weird little crown cub’s arrow.

“God” lost to the Crown Clan?

Impossible!!

Absolutely impossible.

But after that arrow, other Crown Clan powers followed, as if escorting the little arrow, sinking in, doting, smashing through.

Pain burned her; Kindness’s vision crashed; at that instant, she stared, stunned, into the sky.

It was as if, atop a cloud, a soft, white bundle stood, honey-gold eyes watching her intently, bow in hand ablaze with black fire—behind him, stronger Crown Clan powers, including Amos’s attack surging in.

But—no Crown Clan gave her the oppression that Little Chu Zao did right now. The arrow pierced on and on, in that moment shattering the necklace bottle Kindness wore.

She saw Little Chu Zao’s wild baby curls, crowned and wreathed in black flame; the coronet itself seemed aflame, saying—I’m not afraid of any of you now.

Kindness began to tremble instinctively—

Now, more clearly than ever, she understood what that little Crown Clan prince represented—

He would be the variable.

The nemesis—

He was their worst nightmare—