Of course.
Amos looked at his cub.
Especially in this strange, unfamiliar territory.
This sort of thing could never be admitted.
“In places you don’t understand, you must be cautious.”
Amos spoke, though anger still burned, his crown faintly flickering above his head.
Little Chu Zao glanced at his papa’s less-than-great mood, then at his papa’s calm face, and finally nodded—okay, whatever Baba says goes.
Zao Zao is understanding.
“This is the Angel Realm?”
Amos had already taken in the surroundings during their landing.
“Mm-hmm.”
The cub raised his hand, his small face tilting up.
“Baba, Baba, look, right there—where you just poked a hole—”
Amos followed the cub’s gaze.
They stood beneath a big tree. No one else was around, and not a single angel in sight. The scene looked vaguely familiar, probably a place the cub used to frequent. After all, in the cub’s memories, Amos rarely saw those so-called angels in locations like this.
They’d landed, bouncing off branches to a soft patch of grass.
Above them, on three main branches, there was a little nest—someone had poked a hole in it.
A bird’s nest-like thing.
“This is where Zao Zao used to live.”
Little Chu Zao flapped his wings and flew up to the edge of the old nest he hadn’t seen in a year, inspecting it.
Amos followed right behind.
He listened as the cub introduced—
“This is Zao Zao’s blanket, though it’s dirty now. When I changed it, I picked fruit for a month. That’s Zao Zao’s pillow—Zao Zao made it from collected feathers. That little basket over there, I used to store food and hung it outside. There’s no snow in the Angel Realm, but sometimes it rains for days and you can’t find anything to eat—”
Tender, childish explanations paired with that shabby little lair.
This couldn’t be called a home—just a tiny nest.
Before Amos found him, Little Chu Zao had slept here for years.
The month he picked fruit for a blanket, did that mean he had nothing to cover himself? Wasn’t he cold?
Did the little basket mean he’d gone hungry on rainy days?
The answers were obvious.
Some truths were even harsher than Amos could bear.
Amos wordlessly spread out his psychic power.
This truly was a bizarre region, seemingly cut-off, yet closely connected to the interstellar world.
His psychic power was slightly limited here.
Reaching further, the “outside” reminded him of interstellar pollution, cutting this place off.
“Baba—”
The cub finished showing Amos his only bits of property. Now, blinking, he just looked at Amos.
“Teacher, we have to help Teacher. The Angel Spring is inside the city, at—the Archangel’s place. We have to go there.”
His cub grew anxious again.
“Were we discovered? The Archangel can hide the Angel Spring.”
The adorable, pretty little one pinched his features into a worried look.
“We have to sneak in and snatch it, then settle accounts.”
The little guy didn’t look traumatized or scared at all, even remembering the teacher at the Holy Cas capital and how little time was left for him.
“Zao Zao still remembers some paths, but…not all clearly.”
Chu Zao flipped over, reaching to hug Amos’s neck.
“Baba, we’ll sneak over?”
Amos nodded, wordlessly indulging his cub.
“No need to rush.”
Amos continued.
“Teacher Hel can still hold on a good while, long enough for us to return. It’s not wise to act rashly with the situation unclear.”
Amos had gained some understanding of that so-called Archangel’s power last time he saw the Angel Realm.
But this wasn’t the interstellar world; his knowledge was insufficient—the environment, facilities, the angels’ mysterious powers, and those so-called gods of nature they worshipped—
And the Angel Spring.
The parent who had charged in with blazing anger now had to suppress it.
He had to stay utterly rational and calm, to ensure his cub’s safety.
Alone with his child, a father’s nerves were taut—tighter than ever, on high alert.
Chu Zao nodded.
The cub who, in his old, ragged nest, always had to decide everything himself, was unrecognizably changed a year later.
He had never wanted to return to the Angel Realm and always a little afraid, but—Baba had come back with him.
Baba is so powerful. With Baba here, anything can be solved.
“Zao Zao, rest a bit.”
Amos still worried about how tired his cub was.
He wanted to bring the cub for retribution, but had he known they’d end up here now, he’d never have let the Academy schedule training for this period.
Little Chu Zao was spent.
Amos eyed the battered, hole-riddled nest, exhaled, and counted up suitable snacks he’d brought for the cub.
Chu Zao’s little wings fluttered, big eyes scanning around—things were still a bit different from a year ago, especially after the disaster that drove him out.
You could still see traces—the lush grassland-forest, and somewhere, rain-pitted divots barely covered by green.
If Zao Zao remembered correctly, in this season—
He brightened, spotting a target; wings beating, he hopped down.
Amos tidied the nest, not looking up, seemingly unconcerned, but his psychic power enveloped the cub completely.
“Zao Zao,” he called.
“Don’t fly off.”
No sooner had Amos spoken than the cub, having seized something, flapped back, hands outstretched, holding a slightly shriveled orange fruit.
“Baba, Baba—”
He chirped sweetly.
“Hmm?”
Amos turned.
The cub held the fruit to his lips.
“Zao Zao ate these for a long time before. They’re everywhere this time of year.”
The cub gestured.
He was good at foraging.
Amos instinctively took a fruit the cub offered—
At most, it would just be sour.
Amos thought, already long accustomed—then his expression froze, just for a moment.
“Zao Zao.”
He kept a blank face as he swallowed the fruit, looking at his cub.
“You know what this tastes like?”
“Mm-hmm, it’s bitter.”
The cub nodded, innocent as could be.
“But they’re definitely not poisonous!”
Amos: …
Since raising the cub, the once-willful tyrant, His Majesty Amos, really had tasted all kinds of bitterness.
—In a strictly physical sense.
The little one even cheekily stuffed another into his own mouth—
Amos reached out to stop him.
He sighed, took out some food, and handed it to the cub.
“Eat up, then we’ll head out.”
The cub had once said he lived far from the other angels to dodge those who rejected him.
The cub, cradling his food, sat on the edge of his old nest and nibbled. He watched Amos, then the little fruit beside him, and finally couldn’t resist sneaking another bite—
His face instantly scrunched up.
“Eh? Zao Zao remembers it wasn’t this bitter before—”
He stared in shock at the fruit in his hand, but Amos already offered sweet juice, flicking away the fruit.
The cub watched Amos sweep the dust from the nest, tidy the blanket and pillow, and collect the scattered odds and ends, things even the cub could no longer recognize from when he’d gathered them.
Amos even studied the nest, patching the hole with branches and such.
“Baba, what are you doing?”
The cub looked over eagerly.
He didn’t really get what Amos was up to.
“Just fixing it up.”
Amos replied.
He turned, gazing at his fluffy cub, and patted his head.
“Zao Zao has grown up, but you built this yourself when you were little, didn’t you? Baba didn’t see you when you were even smaller, but this, this was little Zao Zao’s hard work.”
Even if it’d never be used again, he wanted it repaired, no matter what happened after, so the child would have good memories—not just a broken old nest.
Now, he could remember the nest, fixed up together with Amos.
The cub, food in hand, sweet juice by his side, blinked.
He huddled up next to Amos.
Softly, with his tiniest voice, he answered, “Mm.”
*
On the other side of the Angel Realm, in the gathered angels’ city—
“Archangel, about your last injury—”
“It’s nothing.”
The Archangel still wore his benevolent pose among the angels.
“It seems there’s quite a commotion in the Angel Realm today. Has anyone checked it out?”
“Yes, we’ve checked inside and out, and all the angels are attending their duties. There’s nothing odd. If there’s an issue, maybe it’s outside the city, in those remote spots. Still, those get hit by natural magic often, so today could be the same.”
“Hmm.”
The Archangel nodded.
“Have all angels keep to their posts and guard the city center. Also, let them protect it but not approach—the altar’s details remain under wraps, that’s vital for our survival as a race.”
“Understood, Archangel.”
“But you said the noise might have come from outside the city?”
The Archangel frowned slightly.
A not-so-pleasant memory seemed to surface.
“Yes.”
“That mutant little angel who lived outside, wasn’t his body never found?”
“Correct—during that disaster-magic chaos, he went missing. Why bring it up?”
The Archangel’s brow smoothed. Hand resting on the chair arm, he gazed downward.
“Just a thought—he was brought from the Angel Spring like any of us, yet so different—power, system, mind, and ability. I never saw a crown on him, but…”
That strange sword had left the Archangel uneasy. He’d fortified the leeching stones, pressing all the dispensable tools to further suppress everything.
Ah, the leeching stones—in those lower worlds, they’d be called God’s Gifted Stones.
Which wasn’t exactly wrong.
Power itself—was a gift.
The Archangel’s eyes flickered. Above his head, a golden ring flashed, half-hidden.
“It was just a little aberration. A little pressure, and it obediently returned where it belonged. Maybe the body was wiped out by nature magic.”
A nearby angel replied.
“Nothing the Archangel need pay much mind—a worthless little waste.”
“Yan,” said the Archangel, smiling gently,
“Don’t talk like that. If the child is still alive, let him understand—cry quietly, don’t bother others. He was strangely favored by the Angel Spring and couldn’t just be wiped out; a real headache. Natural disaster magic was fortunate enough.”
“Yes.”
The angel called Yan nodded, eyes down, respectful.
“Enough, no need to dwell on it.”
The Archangel rose, hand gathering myriad light-points into a scepter.
“A key ritual awaits. And even if anything’s amiss—”
He laughed softly.
“We are perfectly at ease. We are—angels.”
Impossible for anything stronger to appear.
They had absolute dominion over the Angel Realm.
*
But outwardly peaceful Angel Realm couldn’t be more different from interstellar space now.
A series of detonations; strange echoes rolling from the depths of the pollution.
Feiman circled again.
“How many beasts are moving?”
“Unclear. Still assessing the damage. The region’s too vast, Princess Feiman, we can’t tally everything.”
“And His Majesty hasn’t given orders for a long time.”
“He hasn’t given an order in a long time?”
Feiman spun her spear, turning as her long black ponytail swung behind her. She looked into the distance.
Her expression was cold, her aura fierce, the silver-black psychic crown floating overhead radiating crushing power.
She’d been on her way to pick up Little Chu Zao, but Amos had told her midway not to bother.
Feiman also knew Amos had gone after Hymn with the cub.
But there’d been no news—
Could something have happened?
Impossible, right?
With Amos’s skills, Feiman figured he’d do well not to *cause* extra trouble.
“Princess Feiman, what’s our next step?”
“If it’s already gotten to this stage, push forward—”
Feiman pointed with her spear.
“Find out what that weird barrier is in the pollution. Notify the surrounding Crown Clan. Move, and move fast!”
“Yes!”
Meanwhile, Feeney, watching Amos chase Hymn with the cub, linked up with the ships trailing Amos.
“What do you mean, disappeared?”
Feeney stomped angrily.
On the way, he’d hacked apart a few more beasts—
He felt destined to have it out with these things.
Everything was in chaos, yet Amos and the cub had both vanished.
“It’s—”
The Holy Cas soldier quickly explained.
Evidently Amos had left word when he went into action.
Feeney knew, but he hadn’t arrived in time—
It was maddening.
They’d definitely gone to the damned Angel Realm—he’d wanted to flatten the place for ages.
Now he was here—where were *they*?!
Why hadn’t they brought him along?!
*
Inside the Angel Realm.
Father and son, having repaired the cub’s nest outside the city, and after the cub ate and drank his fill, headed for the angel city.
The journey was tranquil.
Amos’s psychic power stayed extended, ready to handle emergencies at any moment.
But there didn’t seem to be many angels around.
No others were seen along the way.
Amos kept watching, following the cub step by step.
Now and then, he spotted what looked like meteor craters.
The closer to a certain area, the denser they got.
What were these?
Amos looked at Chu Zao.
“Are the angel’s powers different?”
“Mm.”
Chu Zao nodded, thinking, then explained,
“Angels value magic power. The angel teachers always told us we little angels must worship the god of nature, or nature won’t like you.”
“Oh, Zao Zao isn’t that kind of angel.”
He eyed the pits, said it instinctively, then realized, his crown glowing as he gave a little shake.
“Zao Zao is a little Crown Clan.”
Amos murmured his assent, patting the cub’s head.
“Baba knows.”
A god of nature?
Amos was puzzled.
He’d rarely heard the cub mention it—parents usually avoided talking about the Angel Realm, for fear of making the child uncomfortable.
But his memories of the cub hinted at something.
He’d always suspected that so-called god worshipped by Hymn was probably the angels’ “god.”
But something about it felt off now.
Amos keenly sensed this “god”—supposedly able to provide food, supplies, anything—was not a good thing.
No matter.
He smothered his anger.
Once they’d seized the Angel Spring, he’d wipe out these angels, too.
But—the tightly-contained, ready-to-tear-angels-apart dad paused yet again.
Because, after chattering away, the cub suddenly went quiet.
His little wings drooped, suddenly unhappy.
“Baba—”
The cub gazed up at Amos.
“Zao Zao wants a hug. Can Baba carry Zao Zao?”
Why suddenly want a hug?
The question barely flickered through Amos’s mind before he picked up the cub by habit.
The little one clung hard.
“Back then, it was right here—”
Only when in his father’s arms did he finally relax; his little crown stubbornly wobbled atop his head, the cub lifted his face.
Pointing to the craters with Amos.
“It was here that Zao Zao ‘died’. Then Zao Zao went biu and left here, then Baba picked me up—there was the system, too. I haven’t heard her voice in so long.”—Even Amos didn’t know what that was.
The six-year-old had grown a lot, no longer needed carrying like before, but now, nestled in Amos’s arms—
Back then, the tiny cub hadn’t dared approach the angel city, only watching other little angels from afar. He was alone, dreading the disaster falling on him, helpless and terrified—a memory that still lingered.
But—but—
Now, just like the day Amos picked him up, he snuggled in closer.
“With Baba here, Zao Zao’s not afraid of anything now.”
apex predator just entered the chicken pen