The entire Angel Realm seemed peaceful; the already limited number of angels all appeared busy, and even the little angels who usually ran and played in the city were nowhere to be seen.
They walked along a side path Little Chu Zao had carefully chosen after some thought.
They moved with extreme caution, since they were sneaking in.
Now and then, they’d run into patrolling angel guards.
At times, when a guard got close and the little one nervously flailed his hands, wanting to ask Amos what to do, Amos had already acted.
Dealing with these angels, Amos felt no psychological burden—rather, he never had any when dealing with outsiders, the sort to rather kill by error than let any go. Otherwise, the title of Dark Tyrant and Demon Crown wouldn’t be so infamous across the stars.
During his time living in the Angel Realm, Little Chu Zao had been weak and small, surviving with great caution for years, a careful existence that left him now both aware yet inevitably nervous and flustered.
Those years left a deep mark on the cub, shaping habits that the Crown Clan found both infuriating and heartbreaking.
To say Amos was always on edge wasn’t wrong—really, the whole Crown Clan had been just as anxious. After all, Chu Zao was their only cub left.
So, while the little one simply trusted that Baba would have a way for them to sneak in smoothly—
Amos had already dispatched each angel guard efficiently, one by one, quickly and silently, leaving no survivors or chances, even stretching out a hand to stop them from falling too loudly and drawing extra attention.
The angel city was quiet, but the journey to the Angel Spring was not lightly guarded, yet no one noticed a thing.
This was Amos’s soundless, brutal elegance.
Little Chu Zao, wide-eyed, followed after Baba in a daze and soon reached a familiar passage.
Well… was this even sneaking in?
One way or another, they’d gotten inside—so, that counted.
And maybe because the cub had grown, or maybe for other reasons—
Those grim, oppressively tall buildings from his memory—didn’t actually seem that high anymore.
There was none of Holy Cas’s prosperity, none of its lively bustle.
“Baba, Baba—”
Behind him, the cub’s four little wings were fluffy and soft, barely fluttering, nervous about making noise. He whispered to Amos,
“Someone’s talking ahead.”
Amos nodded, leading his cub through these strange, yet sometimes faintly familiar, buildings, until from a distance, they saw some familiar faces—
Faces seen in the cub’s memories, angel guards at the Angel Spring from when, years ago, the cub’s tiny wings had been broken.
Amos still remembered their hateful, resentful stares at his own fearful, lost little cub.
“Why so quiet today? Shouldn’t the guard team have already passed through here?”
“No idea.”
A nearby angel replied.
“Maybe the Archangel has other plans.”
“True, soon the solemn grand celebration begins, and we as Angel Spring guards are privileged to know of the natural god’s ritual. Afterward, a new little angel should be born from the spring.”
“Shh—don’t let the Archangel overhear. After last time’s mistake, it’s lucky we’re still allowed to guard the spring.”
“You’re right. Without us or the Angel Captain’s keys, no one could enter this area. Crazy how that little freak got in years ago and tainted the water—almost got us all demoted. Disgusting.”
“No worries, haven’t you heard? During last year’s disaster-magic, while damage and loss were being tallied, I heard the freak wound up destroyed by the disaster.”
“That odd little mutant—was it ever really an angel?”
“Who knows, but he wasn’t well liked. Should have just stayed at the bottom and not tried to climb up. The Captain was too soft on him, but that disaster was probably a blessing for him—”
The two guards hadn’t finished their chat when—
Agony hit, their eyes flew open in pain and panic, but their throats were crushed and windpipes shattered, overwhelmed by pressure—no words could escape.
Their wings twisted in agony, snapped by an outwardly-calm, inwardly-furious parent, forced into unnatural curves.
In their final seconds—
They saw a pair of icy, scarlet eyes, a dragon’s eyes, descending from the darkening sky, looking down on ants.
Next to those terrifying eyes stood a small figure.
They never even had time to see clearly before everything went black.
Although Amos had already sized up this wretched place—
He still felt incredibly pissed.
If not for pressing business, Amos wouldn’t have made their deaths so quick or easy.
He calmly shook the blood from his psychic longsword.
His psychic power simmered, his crown faintly humming.
“Baba?”
The little one, puffy with anger behind some grass, had just tried to retort, but seeing Amos’s mood, blinked and grabbed Amos’s clothes instead, his golden halo trembling.
“Mm?”
Amos glanced down.
Meeting his cub’s eyes, that anger settled down again.
“What is it?”
“Zao Zao tried, but it won’t open. They mentioned a key—”
Chu Zao explained.
Looking at the two bodies Amos had handled.
Amos silently tried himself.
After a while, father and son found a little metal badge, and with it, unlocked the path ahead.
Amos examined the badge curiously.
It bore strange markings and a weird power, not quite psychic.
Probably part of the angelic “magic” the cub had mentioned.
As they took the path forward, the cub obviously relaxed.
“Grand festival? Natural god—?”
He muttered.
“And birthing new little angels? Zao Zao never heard of that. What were they talking about?”
But that made sense—the cub, ostracized since birth from the Angel Spring, had nobody to talk to. The Captain often counselled him to endure, to act more like a proper little angel.
So in a way, the cub understood little about angels or Crown Clan in general.
“…No idea, but it doesn’t matter. We’ll ask them later.”
Amos said.
The emperor wasn’t satisfied.
Ever since arriving, Amos had had to tell the cub “I don’t know” several times, which made him, who always seemed omnipotent in his cub’s eyes, rather irked.
Amos was tall, and crossing the starry sky to the Angel Realm had taken its toll—when he’d ripped through space before, his hand had been hurt and the cub had cried about it. This time, carrying the cub straight through, there were inevitably a few rough edges, but Amos tried not to look ragged. He himself didn’t care, only worried his cub would cry again.
His delicate, lovely, pitiful cub was a little crybaby—Amos thought again, through parent-tinted glasses.
His black uniform was scuffed, rare metals scraped on buttons and chains, looking battle-worn. He moved slowly, boots neat and quiet behind his cub—so quietly he was barely perceived, even if seen.
Beneath messy black hair, his scarlet eyes were tranquil and cold. He didn’t look like a nervous infiltrator, but a master strolling his own domain.
A constant reminder—his Majesty was always at his peak.
Amos needed one stride for every two or three of his cub’s.
The cub pattered ahead, Amos trailed behind, until they reached the Angel Spring.
Just like in the cub’s memories.
Dark stone ringed the spring, soft white Angel Spring Source Stone set into the black stone, and warm water trickling out.
The air was grassy, tinged with sweet berry—just breathing near the spring made you feel calm and light.
“Baba, we’re here!”
Behind, the cub’s little wings flapped against his back as he hurried up and turned to Amos.
“This is the Angel Spring.”
The cub pointed at the luminous Source Stone.
Amos glanced over—he had actually been watching the sky. Although Angel City was big and the spring was at its core, this place was oddly dim, like wrapped in a psychic shield, with a sharp contrast to the bright sky elsewhere—a floating building, a bit like Holy Cas Court, was not so far off that Amos couldn’t make out the details.
Some features looked very familiar—not from the cub’s memory, but from that brief moment when Amos had pierced both worlds and lodged his psychic sword there.
Amos couldn’t sense his psychic force there now, but that should be—the Archangel.
Hearing the cub, he finally looked to the spring.
This trip’s purpose, aside from venting and smashing the Angel Realm, was to take the Source Stone.
The water shimmered with specks of starlight.
The cub was already at the edge, reaching out to test the warm water.
“But—it feels a bit strange—”
Chu Zao looked over at Amos.
“The Angel Spring didn’t used to be so—weak.”
Now it seemed powerless, limp, as if sealed, with no response.
So unlike last time, the gates were far from open for Zao Zao.
“Nihao.”
Chu Zao, kneeling at the edge, was anxious, soft cheeks tense, eyes fixed on the stone.
“It’s Zao Zao.”
This place held some of the cub’s few warm memories.
But the spring barely responded, a bit more flow for a moment, but that was all.
Staring for ages, the cub turned to Amos.
“Baba? What do we do?”
They wanted to take the stone, and the cub knew it was somewhat sentient, so he’d wanted to ask nicely.
He’s a well-mannered child—but the stone refused to respond.
Amos looked at Zao Zao.
“…Just pry it out?”
That was really all the emperor could suggest.
Amos looked at his cub, tacitly indulgent.
Do what you like—Baba’s with you.
That was enough for the cub.
He took a deep breath.
“Here goes Zao Zao!”
He’d pry out the Source Stone!
Zao Zao inhaled, then dove for the spring.
Baba silently grabbed him.
“Baba?”
Amos dangled his cub in midair with one hand, sword in the other.
He seemed to hesitate, looking at his cub.
“Zao Zao, just like you said earlier.”
What?
“We can fly.”
The cub: !
His eyes went wide.
“Zao Zao forgot all at once.”
After walking so far, it was too easy to forget you could fly.
Father and son, with similar looks, locked eyes for a moment.
Then Amos watched his cub start patting his wings, and let go.
He watched the little one fly over to the Source Stone.
Good.
Amos stepped back into the shadows.
Time to watch the area.
The Archangel, after all, might sense changes in the spring. Last time, when the spring restored Zao Zao, the Archangel arrived immediately.
So this time was likely the same.
Amos raised his hand and spun his psychic sword, like a hidden beast in the dark with only his crimson eyes visible, waiting for prey.
But—
Amos waited—and waited—
Finally his attention returned to his cub close by.
“Zao Zao?”
He saw the child unable to pry out the Source Stone, struggling and then hauling out his Cupid’s Bow, using the tip to pry at it.
“Mm—”
The cub used all his strength.
“Baba—mm—Zao Zao—Zao Zao can’t get it out.”
The cub’s wings flapped, but the bow slipped off the stone and he shot off—Amos fished him back.
“Let me.”
Amos was amused to the point of despair.
All those intense feelings, once again unraveled by his cub—but that was good. With the Crown Clan’s psychic crown, too much anger could lead to disaster.
Amos used his sword’s tip to pry at the stone—
No effect.
But this truly was not the cub’s fault.
Amos sensed the same strange power as from the earlier metal tag.
“Zao Zao,” Amos’s silver-black crown blazed, suddenly the brightest spot in the dim spring, his scarlet eyes shining. Half his face cloaked in shadow, looking especially dangerous; at that instant, his psychic power erupted. “Step back.”
*
Across the Angel Realm.
Atop a floating palace.
Rituals were underway.
Countless God’s Gifted Stones gleamed, their twisted outlines visible.
“Archangel, preparations are nearly complete.”
“Yes, continue, deliver these forces to the god of nature.”
The Archangel smiled gently, sounding almost sincere.
“Let us gain more power, let the Angel Realm thrive, let our supplies be plentiful.”
“Yes.”
Gripping his staff, golden light streaming from him, he looked on calmly, watching the intricate symbols carved into the floor.
Those patterns ran to the God’s Gifted Stones all around, power pooling and twisting with the ritual design.
The Archangel was about to speak when—
Boom—a thunderous crash.
The Archangel’s eyes shot open.
“What happened?”
“I—I don’t know—”
Nearby angels looked just as lost and alarmed.
“The entire floating palace is shaking—could it be the god of nature displeased with our offering?”
“Don’t panic.”
The Archangel looked up, quickly regaining composure.
“Our relationship with the god of nature is one of transaction and support. He needs these powers dearly, and that’s the core of our deal. As for this disturbance—”
He looked afar.
“It’s from inside the Angel Realm.”
The Archangel’s frown deepened.
“Could something have broken in?”
But soon he reconsidered.
“No, impossible. The Angel Realm is isolated, filled with power and bounty—no way for anyone to break in.”
If there was any accident,
It might only be the loss, last year, of Little Chu Zao.
Everyone insisted the little freak had died, but no body had ever been found.
Now—
The Archangel’s wings slowly unfurled, multi-winged for added grandeur, the staff in his hand shining golden.
“The Angel Spring—something happened at the spring.”
His wings beat fiercely.
“Yan, continue the ceremony. I’ll check the spring.”
“Yes.”
*
At the Angel Spring.
The cub watched as Amos’s psychic blast reduced the whole place to ruins.
Amos stood on the wreckage, his power having already boiled away the remaining spring water.
With a flick, he lifted the glowing stone from the debris and handed it carelessly to his cub, barely interested.
Amos’s mind was elsewhere.
Now—he had the item. His business was done here and he still held many chores in the interstellar. It was time to take the cub home. Not much time was left for His Majesty—
That is, not much time left to trash the Angel Realm.
“The Source Stone’s not responding, Baba.”
Chu Zao clutched the Source Stone, blinking, testing it gently with psychic power, and getting nothing back.
The cub looked uncertainly at Amos.
“Is it because—”
He thought a moment.
“Because a bad guy did something to it?”
The tiny cub gestured.
“Like locking it up.”
That was very likely.
Hearing this, the would-be Angel Realm demolisher held off, looking at his cub.
He could already feel a strange force approaching.
“Zao Zao.”
Amos glanced at the sky, then at his little cub.
“Want to try figuring it out?”
His voice was cold.
“Looks like—the Archangel’s here.”
He clearly saw the cub shudder, perhaps at memories of the spring—the crown atop his head drooped, pressing into his soft curls.
If possible, Amos would never let his cub face such risks.
But the Crown Clan must keep growing. He could watch Chu Zao every moment, but didn’t want him to have no power to fight back.
And anyway, he was right there watching.
But—
Amos said at last.
“If Zao Zao doesn’t want to, Baba can do it.”
Amos would always protect him.
“Baba’s always here.”
Clutching his bow and the Source Stone, Chu Zao looked at Amos.
“Zao Zao—Zao Zao can do it.”
He heard footsteps behind and quickly put away the Source Stone.
Behind him, Amos melted into the shadows, quietly watching his cub.
The beat of wings.
A shadow descended.
A pair of golden eyes, cold and indifferent, with tremendous pressure.
The dark barrier above melted away. Sunlight spilled down and multi-wings fanned out, so imposing it seemed to blot out the light, leaving just a sliver to fall on the cub beside the ruined spring—just as, years ago, the little frightened cub saw from among the Angel Spring’s rocks.
This really was Little Chu Zao’s long-missed—Archangel.