His Majesty, ears buzzing from the cub’s crying, at first tried to coax the little one to put the crown away, but in the end, he gave up resisting.
Because, in a feverish, woozy state, the cub was completely unreasonable.
And at times like this, he was especially talkative.
Little Chu Zao was no longer the cub who used to hide any grievance, not daring to tell his parents for fear they’d think he was naughty or didn’t behave.
It had cost Amos much effort to strip away the color the angels had painted over the little cub.
And the results were obvious.
On the way to meet up with the medical center, Amos kept holding the little one, listening to the duet in his ear and in his head.
He even remembered to switch out the cold towel on the cub’s head to lower his fever.
So, by the time Amos’s ship had met up with the medical starship—
The cub seemed exhausted, still feeling terrible, his tiny body curled up in Amos’s arms, from being full of energy at first, to now only mumbling weakly, a phrase here and there.
“Your Majesty!”
The medical center members quickly took their places.
Actually, Little Chu Zao had already undergone basic checks in the medical unit accompanying the warship.
Overall results were decent, but his temperature kept rising, with no sign of dropping.
Topical and oral medicines from the med bay had been used, but they had little effect.
Only after a thorough psychic evaluation could they determine the next cooling protocol.
Amos paused a moment before looking up at the medical staff.
He carried the cub quickly through the connecting door to the other ship.
Right now, Feeney was also coming aboard with the Holy Chalice Clan ship, Lien was uneasy and, after confirming there were no more major beast armies, left Frey and Feiman to sweep up and chase down monsters, and was also on his way.
Of course, there was also Ayala’s team escorting the research fleet back for repairs.
At this moment, the Holy Cas star region had gathered far too many armed forces and troops.
Little Chu Zao was taken for examination.
He looked exhausted, half-opening his eyes with muddled compliance.
Amos watched closely.
Listened to the reports.
“That Holy Chalice young chief is also aboard; Prince Feeney’s flagship has already docked, linking up. We’ll send people to assess the Holy Chalice chief’s condition first, then make other decisions.”
Amos nodded.
“Carry on.”
“Yes!”
Amos raised a hand to his temples.
His mind was uncommonly quiet; the echoing duet of a tragically wronged cub had even smoothed out his helpless, anxious rage from Zao Zao nearly getting in trouble again—leaving him a bit numb.
Who started all this…?
Well, ultimately, the real culprit was Storm, now dead with nothing left, but still…
“Second brother, how’s Zao Zao?”
Feeney casually ruffled his black hair, having just come from the docking bay, looking disgruntled.
“Why am I so unlucky, every time I leave, I never reach my destination?”
Last time he crashed into those damned revolutionaries.
This time was even better—straight into a beast horde and managed to rescue the Holy Chalice clan starship that was supposed to self-destruct. And now they were going on about handing over unknown inherited secrets to the Crown Clan after so many generations.
Like they were all crazy.
Feeney let out a long breath.
He stopped suddenly.
Because at that moment, he saw both Amos and Anya turning their heads at the same time with… a rather subtle expression.
Feeney’s moody baby face went blank for a second.
What… was this about?
Why were they looking at him like that?
Also—
Feeney smelled a bit of blood in the air, and saw the torn patch on Anya’s shoulder.
He instinctively laughed, teasing his littlest brother: “What? You always said you’re reliable, but you got hurt, huh?”
Anya rolled his eyes at him.
Feeney glanced again at Amos. “What’s up with second brother? That look, that reaction—”
Amos always kept himself in top form and even if his psychic power ran into problems, he could hide or suppress it well. Rarely did he let them see it like this.
But now, Amos seemed spacey, responses a bit slow.
On that note, Anya couldn’t help but laugh.
“Zao Zao got a fever and wound second brother’s psychic threads onto his crown, whined the whole way, complaining in both ears.”
“So now second brother can’t really hear well? Head buzzing?” Feeney asked curiously.
“Archers can go face to face—”
Suddenly, Amos spoke.
“When did you teach Zao Zao that?”
Feeney: …
For a second, Feeney’s baby face looked stunningly vacant.
What?
Amos was already up, grabbing Feeney by the back of the collar—dragging him toward the training room.
Feeney: …?
Feeney: !!!!!
“Second brother, archers can go face to face, I do it all the time, isn’t that right? I admit I taught him a bit early, but Zao Zao caught on so well—ow—second brother, I know you can hear me, stop pretending—owww—”
Anya craned his neck to peek in, clicking his tongue, and shut the training room door.
Tragic, simply tragic.
Meanwhile, on another starship room.
The little Holy Chalice Derick was clinging to the door, the half-grown youth sensing his father’s faint aura, anxiously asking the Holy Cas medical staff:
“Is my papa here? Is he not well?”
Always acting tough, yet coddled by his father and prone to tears, the young teen kept wiping his tears away.
“Don’t worry just yet. The teachers and seniors are evaluating Chief Caverno’s situation. You can’t see your papa until then.”
The medical staffer anxiously handed him tissues, watching the boy sob quietly, curling up small, softly calling for his father.
The medics were moved, unable to say more—Holy Cas’s medical team had advanced psychic research, but spirit power decay couldn’t be reversed, only slowed.
From previous reports, the Holy Chalice Clan aboard that ship were in dire condition.
……
Meanwhile, in another corner of the galaxy.
“Everything seems to have quieted down?”
Shenghua sat at the top of a mechanical vehicle, distractedly scrolling through the starweb.
She hid her anxiety well.
Beside her, a pale youth with heavy dark circles peered over.
There hadn’t been much beast attack here.
Xi glanced over news of the counterattack, of Holy Cas survivors, then saw images of Crown Clan, clicking his tongue as he hopped off the vehicle, tossing: “Boring.”
Shenghua watched his quickly fading back, lips twitching.
She thought, even if this guy was truly dangerous, he was basically too easy to read—likely because the Hymn Organization had never taught him anything, only obedience, leaving him older than Shenghua, yet completely transparent in emotion.
Ironically—once born from a noble family and trained from childhood in elite education, Shenghua clicked her tongue—her late father once said, of all her talents, using people was what she learned best.
Shenghua looked down again.
At pictures on the starweb.
In ruins, the Crown Clan stood; next to Little Chu Zao, arrows of psychic power shone still undissipated, and he looked skyward, behind him Holy Cas people running his way.
And after that, the Crown Clan emperor holding Little Chu Zao, Anya standing behind them.
Once, she had stood high, then fallen to the depths. She had wondered if the world truly had those things she’d yearned for as a child?
When drifting on a star-wandering planet, she couldn’t be sure.
But bit by bit, now, she was seeing a different world.
She couldn’t do much, or know if it mattered, but she found a direction.
Shenghua idly glanced again at Xi’s distant form, not daring to save any pictures, nor even looking at the comments below.
She clicked to enlarge the last image of Amos holding Little Chu Zao.
Zoomed in, trying from every angle to see how the little cub nestled in Amos’s arms looked—was he hurt? Why was he being held?
Ah, why no close-ups?!
*
“Are you sure they’re all retreating?”
On the warship escorting the research ship.
A Crown Clan with dark skin, strong and fierce, stood at the command platform.
“Yes, Prince Ayala.”
His adjutant replied swiftly.
“We’ve received imperial intel—confirmed appearance of a beast commander higher than the corps level, able to coordinate multi-corps attacks. His Majesty has eliminated him, and the now-leaderless beast armies are fleeing.”
“A higher-level beast commander than corps leaders?”
Aiayala lowered his gaze, tapping the table with his finger.
“Any other news? Where did that thing come from?”
“Unknown, but likely born from the contamination. The empire’s message is to wait for further discussion upon return.”
“Fine.”
Ayala rarely smiled—all stern and intimidating, muscles bulging beneath his uniform, lines powerful.
His scarlet eyes gazed out at the stars.
“How long until we rendezvous with Amos?”
“One more space jump.”
Ayala didn’t answer, still watching the universe.
And reflecting on earlier research reports.
They were searching for a passage, possibly leading to another starfield without Crown Clan. During this, they’d heard a roar—
That roar—whether beast or… something else—
It had been far off, and they didn’t know if it was linked to this new commander’s appearance, but Amos’s judgment had been correct.
Ayala thought, no matter what’s out there or what Amos’s original goal was, with a beast commander of that level appearing, they needed to forge ahead quickly—
“Accelerate, escort the research ship, notify the other party: full power.”
“Yes!”
And at the same time, in the depths of pollution, a roar echoed around a planet completely swallowed by blight.
Far from the Holy Cas Empire, like a sigh, it seemed to drift still further into the unknown.
*
Holy Cas imperial capital.
The Holy Chalice clan was still under emergency care, arranging for Derick to meet his comatose father. Medical efforts now failed— their chalices had been fully consumed, the last specks of golden light about to disappear, soon bringing complete dissolution.
That would be the end for the Holy Chalice Clan.
These people had reached their final stage; no technology could halt fate.
But to awake Chief Caverno and allow one final meeting with Derick—that could be done.
As for Little Chu Zao, he’d just completed a full checkup.
The cub had no major issues with psychic power.
Mainly overexertion, and body data fluctuations.
This wasn’t surprising; Crown Clan had already learned—from launching Love & Peace, the cub wouldn’t be badly affected, since under angel manipulation, that was his main power.
When repairing his crown, psychic conversion and repair would make him crave Crown Clan psychic weapons.
Finally, the deadliest black flame arrows.
Even in early use, those arrows consumed huge energy. This time, with excessive use, these fluctuations were still within expected limits.
As for the fever.
“It’s probably because little highness can’t yet adapt to so much energy expended—aftereffects, overall not a big problem, once the temperature drops, he’ll be fine.”
“His temperature’s not dropping,” Amos replied, glancing sidelong at the dazed, half-lidded honey-colored eyes of his cub.
The little one still clutched his crown, never letting go.
But he’d stopped complaining, too feverish now to make a fuss.
Poor thing, lips pressed together, just gazed at Amos in misery, one hand on the crown, the other stretching out—Baba, want hug.
“Zao Zao, still checking.”
The cub stretched his hand again—hug.
“Wait till Papa finishes, okay?”
The cub’s whole face changed—want. hug. now.
Though he’d performed bravely this time, he was still sick, and had been badly scared by Storm, so was especially clingy.
Like a sticky, soft little rice cake, he insisted on burrowing into Amos’s arms.
Though—could he really refuse three times in a row?
Worthy of being Amos.
Anya peered over.
Feeney, rubbing his newly formed lumps, sat cross-legged nearby muttering to himself—how exactly did I get busted this time?
Until Amos picked up Little Chu Zao.
The cub immediately found the comfiest, most natural spot in Amos’s lap.
Snuggling in, crown hugged tight. But the fever and malaise dulled not just his head, but his wings too—they felt terrible, yet he just stayed curled up, not moving, like a cute, clingy, dazed little doll.
After Amos had properly situated the cub, he turned to the medical staff, who were now staring blankly.
Let’s face it—not just Crown Clan had zero resistance to their own cubs.
The Crown Clan-worshipping Holy Cas folk had just as little resistance to the Crown Clan’s cub.
Everyone was a bit dazed, watching Little Chu Zao.
With hearts and stars in their eyes, and overflowing sympathy.
Those damned beasts—how dare they bully our adorable highness.
Amos looked over.
“He’s still feverish. Medicine won’t bring it down. Just like last time, wait it out?”
“Normally, yes, but we could give an injection to ease things for little highness.”
A medic produced a vial.
“No side effects, brings relief for a day or so, it should help.”
But Zao Zao had never had an injection.
Amos also paused, setting the vial aside for now.
Suddenly, the cub looked up, as if seeing something, honey eyes watery with fever, little wings fluttering uncomfortably.
His gaze fixed on a spot in the air—Amos recognized this.
He froze as Little Chu Zao reached out and grabbed at nothing.
Not good—
Amos tried to grab his wrist.
But the anxious parent couldn’t react in time.
He watched as the little one, already quite skilled, grasped something invisible and wound it around his crown—
That little face was all grievance.
The Ninth Group’s Yemeng hurried up to the door, catching Amos’s strange expression and announcing, “Your Majesty, Lord Lien and Lord Ayala have arrived—”
Never mind Ayala—
Lien…
Amos mused.
Based on the cub’s earlier complaints, he quickly realized who was now the target of Zao Zao’s aggrieved outpouring—
So, had he unwound his psychic thread from Zao Zao’s crown by now or not?
Meanwhile, Lien had just boarded the ship.
He proceeded quietly as always, checking, asking, arranging.
Finally, he expertly hid in a corner, planning to observe Little Chu Zao’s condition before deciding when to appear.
Lien thought it over.
He’d heard Ayala was now here, so he waited for him first.
When Ayala stepped aboard, Lien appeared.
Ayala blinked at him, fierce handsome face showing a rare hint of warmth. “Uncle Lien, long time no see.”
“Mm—” Lien was keeping a straight face, about to speak to Ayala—
Then suddenly froze.
It wasn’t any external problem.
At that moment, in his mind—
An aggrieved, childish little voice suddenly rang out—
“Grandpa Lien!”
Like a thunderclap, staggering the unsuspecting Lien.
It was rare for Lien to show such a major reaction.
Ayala:?
What’s up?
The voice in his mind continued.
“A bad guy stole Zao Zao’s candy, Zao Zao didn’t eat it, Zao Zao never tasted it—Grandpa Lien’s gift to Zao Zao… is gone—”
The cub was aggrieved.
Lien, shocked at first, almost lost his composure—even as he wondered how he’d been found so fast, the cub’s voice sounded again in his mind.
Zao Zao was about to cry.
He forgot all about greeting Ayala, and without hesitation, turned to rush toward the cub.
—What’s wrong with Amos and the rest? A group like that can’t console even one cub?
Lien, who actually had no clue how to deal with cubs, thought, righteously.
Ayala, reaching out in vain: “Uncle Lien…?”
What’s going on???
What happened???
The always stern and serious Crown Clan Lien—what’s wrong with him?
Meanwhile, in the infirmary.
The cub got up, little wings flapping even harder from discomfort, trembling at times.
He’d just seen Lien’s psychic thread.
Instantly recalled the beautiful candy Lien had given him—Zao Zao hadn’t even tasted it, now it was gone.
Still sick, he was overwhelmed with sorrow, painfully mourning those two lovely candies—he was simply irrational at a time like this.
Once again snuggled in Amos’s lap, he started whining anew.
Once again, telling on someone—
Amos looked down at his little one.
Then at the little crown, sighing long and deep.
He pressed his temples.
If only Zao Zao could be raised a bit more like a five-year-old child, he’d quite like that. Anything but the howling inside his head.
Before Lien arrived, Amos once again checked all around the cub’s crown—ending up with nothing.
Very well—now he understood.
Little Chu Zao’s ability allowed him to yell inside others’ heads, with no right of refusal.
And obviously—
Seeing Lien now at the door, he had clearly heard the cub’s voice and rushed over.
So, His Majesty Amos, with his own head buzzing, thought—Isn’t this basically a mass broadcast?
His Majesty, holding the cub, was now used to it, maintaining his ever-calm, unruffled appearance.
Lien clutched the doorway, frozen outside.
The crown clan member who’d just bristled wanting to critique Amos and the rest on soothing the cub, now stiffened, listening to the wailing inside his own head—
He spoke stiffly: “Grandpa will go get you new ones. Buy you more—”
Two candies—not worth being upset over—
My fault, for bringing over too few last time.
Little Chu Zao, still snuggled against Amos, this time heard and understood Lien.
Face burning, dizzy and woeful, his back-aching wings half-wrapped forward, little hands clutching his face.
Complaints done, the little one was still very sad.
But still, a good cub at heart.
“No—it’s too far—”
The childish, soft, babyish voice.
If Grandpa Lien really left to find them now—
The little cub curled up, pitiful and small; everyone watching almost lost their composure—Zao Zao was never like this.
He covered his face, pitifully adding,
“I’d be spoiled Zao Zao… Zao Zao is not a spoiled Zao Zao.”