Hel reached out for help in vain.
No one lent a hand, just the sound of others sighing in relief that Ayala’s attention wasn’t on them—including Morlo.
Morlo??!!
Hel: ???
Ayala jerkily let go of Hel and took two wooden steps back. That usually stone-cold face was now somewhat dazed and alarmed, eyes slightly widened.
His tears hadn’t even finished falling, as he muttered blankly, “What was that?”
That tiny, harmless-looking arrow—what had it done?
What had just happened to him?
Why had he lost control?
In that instant, when the little one gathered his psychic power, the way all the Crown Clan frantically dodged, even Feeney’s wings frantically flaring out to escape, suddenly made sense.
What is this?!
Ayala’s mind buzzed with shock.
Since losing his playmates and friends in that incident, he had rarely shown such huge emotion.
Now, when he finally showed real feeling, it was a massive outburst.
Little Chu Zao wobbled a bit; ever since before, he hadn’t felt well, and hearing Ayala’s words, he’d also been holding his breath—for Zao Zao cherished everything he had now, friends, teachers, family.
Even if the other was Crown Clan, Zao Zao didn’t want to hear such things—you couldn’t talk like that about people Zao Zao cared for.
Teacher Hel, for the first time, experienced being protected by Chu Zao—but not completely. As he wiped away the tears Ayala had smeared on his face, the half-victim Hel mused.
“Zao Zao has a way—Zao Zao just… just hasn’t remembered yet.”
The soft little cub was scooped up by Amos, who gently spoke.
It must have been something Zao Zao had seen—otherwise, why would he be so sure Teacher Hel’s wings could be saved?
“I’ll take Zao Zao out first,” Amos said.
There was a subtle fluctuation in Chu Zao’s psychic power, unstable, pulling at the psychic force of everyone else in the room.
But before Amos could finish, Chu Zao uncomfortably held his head.
As if fighting something, in an instant, all four little wings spread out.
From his tiny body, psychic power exploded, pulling all the grown-ups into the cub’s glimpse of the past—
It was the Angel Realm.
With the cub’s growth, as his character became more stable, more confident, these incidents had become rare; the process of becoming a little Crown Clanner never inferior to them, these scenes had almost disappeared.
This time was an exception.
These weren’t Chu Zao’s everyday memories.
Amos, holding Chu Zao in his arms, was pulled by that power into the grassland woods and city lines of the Angel Realm.
But this wasn’t the usual forest or fringe street.
Amos could see, far away, the archangel’s highest throne where he’d once pinned his sword of spirit power.
It was a throne made of knotted branches and the treasures of time, gold, and silver; many so-called stones of divine favor hovering warped all around it, merging into a throne-like thing.
This was apparently the center of the Angel City.
In Chu Zao’s psychic memory, he’d only rarely been here, so there wasn’t much.
But after so much had happened—all pain, old and new, merged.
Amos thought he might get angry, but nothing like that first time seeing the cub in the Angel Realm, when rage burned with nowhere to go.
But when he saw that dirty, broken, rain-soaked cub limping to the end of some road, wings hanging, even Amos’s spirit began to shake violently.
This was when Chu Zao was very small, probably just after leaving the only angel dwellings he was allowed.
He had poor survival skills—he was so tiny. No real parent would let one so young fend for himself.
And he was hurt, a wing broken…
That little guy, thinner and smaller than the one in Amos’s arms, whimpered softly, wiping his own tears with a tiny hand.
Apparently inexperienced, he’d fallen from his shelter in a storm, and gotten hurt again.
Amos calmly held his cub—though the dull, blood-red eyes made it clear the Sovereign of Holy Cas was far from calm.
If he weren’t holding his cub—
Where would he go?
Amos followed the stumbling cub’s journey in the Angel Realm.
Everything was a challenge; at that time, he hadn’t figured out how to get money, so his wounded wings received only apathy from the angels, no help at all.
At last, the little cub sat down at the road’s end.
His wings behind him quivered in pain as he quietly cried.
So small with hair soaked and clinging, some glued to his face, and maybe only when the pain was severe did he cry out. Those sobs hit a parent’s heart, trembling each time.
“A bunch of…” What angels, really.
Even before, Amos had detested the Angel Realm. From the first moment, even when he understood little, that world was full of coldness, arrogance, and malice.
Until, off a side path, the branches parted, revealing a little lane inward.
“Eh?”
The little one, nose red from crying, looked up that way; he timidly shuffled to the path.
Without guidance, the downtrodden, cowering cub still had manners.
“Hello…”
A choked baby-voice, very soft, very careful.
“Is anyone there? Could you help Zao Zao? Zao Zao’s wing hurts—wu wu—”
The branches parted, and a faintly glowing spring appeared, with a white stone at its source.
This was—
“The Angel Spring?”
Where baby angels were born, but Chu Zao remembered nothing of it.
Entry wasn’t allowed.
The little one stared blankly—he could feel the spring’s kindness, and approached, but before he could speak, he slipped and tumbled straight in.
A warm flow, like a hot spring, wrapped the cub and washed the grime from his body and wings.
—Just a small injury, even without a wing, this can heal.
Just then, a shadow fell over him.
The little one had just stood up in the water, marveling at his state, turning to look at his wings; his eyes sparkled at the Angel Spring, and before he could speak, he was lifted up.
The archangel no longer had the “gentle” or “merciful” face in Chu Zao’s memory, but an angry scowl.
“Who let you in here? How did you get in?!”
The little one froze, scared, body shrinking.
“G-great Archangel—Zao Zao, Zao Zao’s wing hurts, no one helped Zao Zao, so—so—”
“Why did no one help, do you know why?”
Archangel spoke again, glancing at the Angel Spring, then at the stunned, teary Chu Zao.
Putting the cub down, he stared at the spring, then raised a hand, sucking a light from the white stone at the source; eyes closed as if sensing something.
The cub was panicked and uneasy, sensing the spring weaken instantly.
He looked, unsettled, between the spring and the archangel.
At his age, he didn’t really understand, only felt scared.
“This place is absolutely forbidden.”
Archangel looked again at the cub.
“This is for angels to be born. Because of you, again, a few angels won’t be born and can’t meet their families’ wishes. Why did no one help you? A disobedient child like you—who could like you?”
“But… but…”
The little cub curled up.
“But Zao Zao… Zao Zao didn’t do anything.”
It just hurt so much.
Zao Zao wasn’t naughty.
“Archangel!”
“Archangel!”
Guarding angels had come down.
“How did you guard this? How was he allowed in?!”
The archangel roared.
“You go take punishment.”
The guards tensed; leaving, they shot hateful glances at the huddled, tiny cub.
Those looks made Chu Zao even more speechless.
He could only stare as the archangel crouched, meeting his eyes.
“All this was your fault, so you must be punished.”
The archangel seized Chu Zao’s halo, muttering.
The cub curled up tight, holding his little head—so painful.
“Forget this place completely, never come here again and it won’t hurt anymore.”
In a daze, the little cub heard that.
But Chu Zao didn’t understand.
The Angel Spring had been welcoming…
Was it because he was naughty the spring became weak?
Was it Zao Zao’s… fault?
Why was it Zao Zao’s fault?
No one would ever reach out—Angel Spring gave birth to Zao Zao, but why did all the other baby angels get families, and only Zao Zao was hated? Angel Spring didn’t hate Zao Zao…
But it hurt so much.
For a tiny cub, this was terrifying.
Later, he really forgot; he didn’t dare go near again, and the pain was gone.
With one arm, Amos hugged the cub, face storm-dark. In his heart’s eye, he punched the archangel’s hateful face—but missed.
Little by little, the cub’s psychic power drew everyone back from the memory.
Those painful, jumbled memories faded from view.
The medical center was in shambles.
Frey had grabbed a nearly-out-of-control Feeney, Anya had kicked over a cabinet.
Hel tore up the bedsheets, Morlo broke the bed frame…
Ayala, most affected, stood frozen, staring at the cub, clenching his fists—he’d never inquired much into the cub’s origins, and never asked since his return.
Of them all, only Amos, holding Chu Zao, appeared calm.
The little cub seemed less unwell now; he slowly sat up, still a bit sluggish, but turned to look at Hel and Morlo.
“Teacher, Zao Zao remembered—”
In the Angel Realm, the Angel Spring should help, it wasn’t a bad angel—in the cub’s heart, it was different.
After the storm passed, the adults, frustrated to fury with nowhere to vent, could only fume at the Angel Realm—each one desperate, unable to do anything but watch their cub get bullied repeatedly, and terrified they’d forget some score when the reckoning came.
Chu Zao, snuggled in Amos’s arms and smiled as always—like nothing had really affected him, which only made it sadder—
“So,” he said softly, but firmly, glancing at Amos, “Teacher, you must hold on, Baba will help Zao Zao, Grandpa Morlo is trying too.”
In Zao Zao’s heart, Baba could do anything.
Zao Zao didn’t want to lose anything.
Baba would help Zao Zao.
So he tried and tried to recall the painful memories he’d buried for self-protection, finally remembering.
The cub looked at Amos, hopeful.
“Right, Baba?”
“Mm.”
Amos nodded.
“Zao Zao knew it—” The cub nestled pitifully against Amos, a touch more aggrieved for having remembered, “If I remembered, Baba would surely find a way.”
It just hurt so much, Zao Zao was afraid to try.
Amos said nothing more, carrying Zao Zao for more tests.
Frey and the rest, quiet, cleaned up Hel’s side of the ward.
The cub’s checkup was still perfectly fine.
Exhausted, the little one fell asleep, held by Amos.
At an emergency Crown Clan meeting—Meilun, Kaman, Hel, Morlo, and others were there.
Ayala left at last, gritting his teeth—though he seemed subdued, claiming he was off to prepare for the First Military’s field training.
Meilun: “Angel Realm, huh? Angel Spring? Where even is it?”
Feeney: “I want to smash the whole place.”
Kaman: “No idea, we’ve searched for ages but no trace, maybe it’s related to the pollution.”
Feeney: “I want to break those angels.”
Frey: “From last intel, it might be linked to the Hymn Organization too.”
Feeney: “Rip off all their wings.”
Anya: “Hymn Organization? Slippery operators. Too cautious; can’t find their hideout. Good thing Fourth Sister isn’t here, or she’d explode for sure.”
Feeney, doll-faced, glowered: “Make them all roast wings, give Zao Zao more wings to eat.”
Finally, the others looked at Feeney, because after he said that, the blurry little cub stirred awake.
“More wings…?”
He mumbled, baby voice slurry.
He lifted his little head for a second—then glanced at Hel.
“Baba… make roast wings for Teacher Hel… for his wings…”
Feeney followed up: “Right, roast their wings so Teacher Hel gets more wings.”
Hel: …
A moment later Chu Zao, hazy with sleep, waited for Amos to agree, then burrowed back into him and nodded off.
Everyone glared at Feeney.
“Keep it down, can’t you see he’s exhausted?”
“And shift some focus from the mutant beasts to the Hymn Organization.”
Amos held the warm, soft cub.
“Especially the Hymn agents with those so-called Divine Favor Stones.”
Not just a reckoning for Angel Realm.
There was also Hel’s wings.
The emergency meeting ended.
The Crown Clan dispersed.
After recalling such unhappy memories, the cub was obviously drained, sleeping deeply in Amos’s arms.
At last, Amos took him home to rest properly.
Feeney stormed off—he couldn’t sit still, and his temper was the worst, so he left quickly. Anya and Frey followed Amos.
Frey probably understood Amos best.
As a child, Amos had a bad temper; Frey too could be gloomy, and they’d brawl a lot.
But as King of Holy Cas, plus with his psychic power surging and an unstable crown, Amos had learned to control himself.
Back at Dwight Palace, Butler Mori came up, pausing at the sight of Amos carrying the little one upstairs.
“Your Majesty, what’s wrong?”
“Furious.”
Anya rubbed his nose.
He was furious, too.
Amos seemed like a storm gathering overhead.
“Good thing—”
Frey mused.
“He’d already agreed to Zao Zao’s field training before this and answered before all this happened.”
Otherwise, by now, Amos probably wouldn’t have allowed it.
In fact, since Amos brought the cub back, he seemed in a constant state of anxiety most of the time.
And his instinct to protect the cub was challenged over and over.
Frey wasn’t sure how much rage Amos had built up by now.
After putting the cub down, Amos soon emerged from the room.
He headed down to the basement gym.
“Second Brother—”
Anya hesitated, calling after him.
Amos turned, his face calm.
No hint of emotion on the surface.
“What? Want to spar?”
Spar with Amos right now?
Anya’s survival instincts had him furiously shaking his head.
He watched Amos enter the gym.
Ten seconds later, a low, deep BOOM—like something had exploded inside.
Anya: …
Frey: …
There’s a protective system in there, you know, but you’re about to take the whole gym apart.
Frey grumbled, “Don’t blow up the gym, the cub’s still asleep.”
*
When Little Chu Zao woke, that discomfort was gone; he climbed up, bright and clear.
Outside, it wasn’t clear what time it was.
Seemed like afternoon; he’d slept a night and half a day.
The cub yawned, head tilted, worrying over all sorts of things—need to make wings for Teacher, is the training schedule set? Oh? Where’s his candy today? Where’s Baba? What about lessons?
He slowly got out of bed.
Yawning, he tottered to the doorway, blinking out with big eyes.
The little wings behind him softly fluttered.
Just then, he locked eyes with Amos coming up the stairs.
In Amos’ hand was a bag of candy—the candy looked familiar. Amos raised a brow.
“Awake?”
The cub’s eyes went wide, a little “wooah” sound, wings flaring fully open, and he bounced forward, hugging Amos—
“Baba, Baba! That’s the candy Zao Zao never got to eat last time!”
The one from Grandpa Lien, he’d never had a chance to taste!
The little one stood on tiptoes, tugging Amos’s shirt, too anxious to remember he could fly, his wings flapping like window-dressing, reaching for it, and Amos squatted, handing it to him. Watching those flapping wings, he couldn’t help but ruffle the messy little fuzz, stroking the warm, soft wing joint—a spot hard to reach and very ticklish for the cub. Chu Zao’s eyes grew wide, let out a sound and stepped forward, glancing from his wings to Amos’s hand, huge eyes full of confusion—
At last, he glanced at the candy, then at Baba, not sure what he was imagining, and like a hero embracing destiny, turned his wings to Amos—
Was this an exchange?
That was fine! Zao Zao could do it! The ticklish cub’s wings trembled, and he steeled himself, tore open the candy, bit it, muttering—he could bear it a bit.
Amos paused for a moment, cutened to death by the quivering wings.
Feeney, arriving a little late: ?
Wait, when it’s Second Brother, it’s “that’s fine, Zao Zao can do it,” but when Third Uncle tries, it’s always “bad Third Uncle!”?
You little double-standard cub!