The mechs’ guns opened fire in a sudden barrage.
They drew the swarming insectoid aberrant beasts out of the corruption tide.
All of Holy Sanctuary blared its alarms; the clan—small enough to fit inside a few large starships—mobilized quickly as procedures dictated.
Many mechs began flying out from the starship’s docking bays to intercept the onslaught.
“There are too many of them.”
A council member quickly spoke up.
“This isn’t a normal aberrant beast count for a corruption tide.”
“We should have expected as much—wolves who eat sheep would never truly keep a deal with the flock.”
“Is there any confirmation on the whereabouts of those three?”
Lai Qing spoke up sharply.
“We’ve sent people to search, but no word back yet…”
Their starships—temporary homes and weapons both—fell into momentary silence.
The greater Sanctuary had not yet received the news, only learned in council that those three strangers who appeared so suddenly seemed to come from the far-off Holy Cas, and perhaps were the long-sought bearers of the coronet they’d pursued for generations.
It all felt like a dream, and no one knew if the dream had been broken.
Or if in some clumsy mismatch, with barely a word, they had simply missed each other.
But the crisis outside did not allow Lai Qing time to dwell on it.
“Continue fighting. If the aberrant beasts breach the first barrier, prepare all equipment and facilities; if they breach the second, seal all hatches; if they reach the third, follow the evacuation plan. All mechs cover the retreat!”
“Yes!”
Meanwhile, not far off in the Eastern Alliance of this sector.
The corruption tide was raising a great stir.
Alliance Chair Shi He had only just finished greeting the members returning from the preliminary when he got the news.
“This is bad.”
Shi He’s brows knit.
“The Sanctuary must be exhausted by now; I doubt they’ll stand against this corruption tide.”
“Chairman, what should we do? We’ve offered the Sanctuary all sorts of advice before then, but they never took it. I admire their spirit of resistance, but it might drag our own fragile alliance down with them.”
“Agreed, Chairman. I suggest we not get too involved with Sanctuary’s affairs, lest we bring unnecessary trouble.”
“I know, but understand: if Sanctuary falls, there’s almost no resistance left in this star sector. No matter how long we hold out, it’ll all be pointless. Prepare our alliance’s mech teams. I’m returning to my office to open a call with Speaker Lai Qing.”
Shi He pressed his lips tight.
“This isn’t a natural tide—it’s a scheme targeted at the Sanctuary.”
Obvious enough at a glance.
And in the depths of the tide, compound black insect eyes flickered—
Flashfire, the insectoid Aberrant Beast Commander, commanded a nearby insect host, sending them with the corruption tide against Sanctuary.
He shared the vision of every creature connected to his mind, impossible to tell where his real gaze lay.
Observing Sanctuary’s desperate counterattack, watching even as the starships began to react.
For Flashfire, it was a trifling little bug army, not enough to wipe out a species, but enough to make the already-exhausted, depleted Sanctuary crumble.
“So that’s all there is to them.”
What was the fear of psionics for?
Everyone sounded so scared.
Did they really think he’d evolved out of fright?
Flashfire looked on, already able to foresee the outcome, soon losing interest and turning away.
As long as Sanctuary suffered, that was enough.
Later, he would feast on the flesh of its dwellers, especially the little one he had his eye on—
Flashfire’s sharp mouthpart-tongue flicked out, swallowing at the thought of that fragrant flesh.
Not now—not yet, Flashfire.
He reminded himself, excitement dancing in his compound eyes.
A little trick was all he’d use for now; going too far and spooking the flock into total flight would ruin his food supply.
They had no feelings, but the Aberrant Beast Commanders, having eaten so many humans, knew how to manage a livestock reserve.
But total collapse and panicked flight from Sanctuary didn’t come.
Behind Yu Ye, mechs bearing Sanctuary emblems soared out, more and more joining the comms channel.
A long gun atop Yu Ye’s mech drew a bead on a distant insectoid’s translucent wings.
“Die—!”
He gnashed his teeth, pulling the trigger.
The gun thundered, shell blasting forward, and explosions flared together.
On the Sanctuary channel, everyone was in a furor.
“Beautiful shot!”
“Who fired? Awesome work!”
“What kind of weapon is that—so powerful?!”
“Looks like Yu Ye? Where’d you get that training? Huge psionics surge?”
“No—”
Yu Ye froze, his thrill at the hit lasting only a second.
“I just fired a standard shell—there’s no way it could do that—”
Unless…
Unless—
Boom—
Before they could speak again.
Another patch of aberrant beasts exploded—wherever they targeted with cannon-fire, an entire swath would go up, as if someone shadowed their every move.
Now not only Yu Ye, but everyone else noticed it.
What was that?
—Why was it so powerful?
“Look closely—something’s following our shells—arrows?”
Arrows…?
“Hey.”
A light tapping came from beside the mech’s canopy.
Tap—tap—an easy, gentle knock.
A soft, mild voice, with the last hint of childishness, landed on his ear.
“Do you know Holy Cas?”
Yu Ye whipped his head around.
The first thing he saw—snow-white wings.
Behind him, the corruption tide raged along with a swarm of aberrant beasts.
The corruption tide itself had no color—it just destroyed all living things except aberrant beasts, turning the world gray.
But the tide of black insectoid aberrants surged like crashing waves, smothering the bright sky until it looked set for rain.
No, now it was raining.
Behind those white wings and with the sky pitch-dark, threads of light zipped among the clouds like streaming lightning, then, with the thunder of cannon fire turning the heavens instantly bright, countless insectoid beasts’ bodies and fragments clattered down in showers.
And above his canopy, a golden coronet sat quietly on Chu Zao’s head.
Little Chu Zao didn’t even glance at the battlefield behind him as explosions boiled like a heat-cloud.
Because, not far behind him, another stood tall, wings unfurled, the black uniform’s metal buttons reflecting firelight—a silver-black coronet calmly floated above his head—
Feeney gently drew his arrow, light condensing in his hand and coronet.
Just one, it seemed, could stop the entire corruption tide in its tracks.
And he had plenty to spare, glancing back at Chu Zao from time to time.
Chao Huangmu’s psionics weren’t so refined yet—he couldn’t fly like the Crown Clan, but they were strong enough. He manned a psionic rifle, shooting into the sky from the ground—smiling, picking off any strays escaping the chaos above.
As for Chu Zao, he seemed to scan around until he finally spotted a familiar person.
Yu Ye stayed silent, as did the surrounding Sanctuary mechs, all a bit out of sorts, as if a hunch had just been proven, so Chu Zao asked again.
“Or, are you Holy Cas people?”
All of the Sanctuary folk were totally unprepared for this, each stunned in place.
“We—”
Yu Ye faltered, throat tight, unable to speak.
Suddenly, his mech screen auto-connected.
It was Speaker Lai Qing.
Lai Qing was standing, having taken off his military cap, eyes lowered.
He seemed deeply ashamed.
“Holy Cas—First Army Vanguard Corps, Ninth Corps, Tenth Corps reporting in—we’ve been here a thousand years. Situation follows…”
In an instant, so many subtle feelings clicked into place.
They really were Holy Cas—
Chu Zao looked at these Sanctuary mechs, each bearing scars, the starships too, battered by meteors and beasts.
He’d respected their resistance and thought of them as potential allies before.
But not until now—
Now little Chu Zao began to understand a little about what Amos must have felt bringing home a wounded, battered child to nurse back to health.
Just who was bullying his people like this?
The young Crown Clan’s coronet brightened, so did his eyes.
Feeney shot a glance this way.
Chu Zao heard his uncle tsk softly, sounding irked—
Of course. When the Crown Clan fought aberrant beast armies out there, they were mostly with Holy Cas folk.
To see Holy Cas folk so battered riled him up.
Chu Zao listened quietly as Lai Qing reported.
“That’s all the intel we’ve gathered. We only know a few senior aberrant beast commanders by name—the rest is still unclear, and we have no strength to change the present situation. I’m sorry… Your Highness, we failed in our mission and… may I ask, which Highness are you?”
Lai Qing bowed his head.
The councilors beside him bowed too.
All of them bore scars—some yet unhealed, one even in a wheelchair, no longer able to stand.
Moments ago, they’d been wondering how to cautiously probe if these really were Holy Cas.
But it was Chu Zao who spoke first.
And in such a wretched state, none knew what to do.
But—
“What are you saying?”
Chu Zao spoke up.
“The First Army’s mission from the very beginning was to cover the evacuation of people from Holy Cas’s planets threatened by corruption—”
“You’ve accomplished your mission, and done it well.”
“Chu Zao Dwight.”
Chu Zao said softly.
“My father is Amos Dwight—the present King of Holy Cas; next to me is my uncle, Feeney Dwight. We were exploring the barrier, observing conditions in this star system, but arrived here by accident due to a spatial rift.”
So this was—the Little Highness?
Lai Qing froze.
How strange.
That voice—
Just hearing it gave a strange feeling.
This is home… this is the faith they’d sought so long…
“Uuu—”
Who?
Whose voice was that—
Lai Qing momentarily couldn’t tell.
He could see tears splattering on control panels and hear someone’s stifled sob escape their lips.
All the usual somber councilors—of every age and gender—bowed their heads.
Lai Qing thought he saw double water spots on his screen.
It had been too long. By human measure, their wait had been impossibly long.
They’d outlasted country after country, alliance after alliance. No one knew their own history, so Sanctuary, forever yearning for home, was an outlier everywhere.
Yu Ye widened his eyes. This was nothing like he’d imagined.
It wasn’t just affirmation of their faith, but a kind of—gentleness.
The gentleness Holy Cas folk felt from the Crown Clan.
Yu Ye still wanted to say something but was jolted by the image on the screen, and blurted out.
“Little Highness—look out!”
Amid the rolling flames, it seemed a clan leader–class aberrant beast burst out, ablaze, charging straight at Chu Zao’s back.
Yu Ye cried out instinctively.
But Chu Zao didn’t even turn.
“Hey, hey, hey—”
Feeney’s mocking voice rang out.
The aberrant beast, instinctively uneasy, turned its head.
And met an arrow right between the eyes.
Up above, Feeney hovered, scarlet eyes agleam.
“Where are you looking?”
And—who do you think you’re rushing at?
Don’t tell me it’s my cub?
No way, right? No way?
Eh?
And in that instant, Feeney’s hand blazed bright.
“My dad always said, don’t interrupt when others are speaking. Didn’t your dad teach you that? So rude.”
Chu Zao didn’t even turn or draw a weapon—
To the Crown Clan, this kind of beast tide was just too trivial.
If Feeney couldn’t deal with it, Chu Zao would have to mark it in his notebook—his uncle really needed more training.
But after that joke, the little Crown Clan prince hesitated, then chuckled at himself.
“Oh, that’s right—I forgot. You don’t seem to have parents.”
Elsewhere, Flashfire, just leaving, felt something, and again connected with the insects assaulting Sanctuary.
But he was instantly stunned. His body froze.
All he saw was a sea of fire, then abrupt darkness and utter silence—just a glint of light, barely shaping an image Flashfire couldn’t make out.
What was that?
He thought he heard a cold chuckle.
A pressure he’d never felt swept over him—plus searing pain, and he curled in spite of himself.
The next second, his vision went black.
Flashfire recoiled in a panic, jerking away and staring at Sanctuary, wide-eyed.
“What the hell—?”
He muttered low.
“No, maybe—maybe it was their starship’s weapon?”
Trying to convince himself.
But before he could, he wiped sweat from his brow—only then did he realize he’d broken into a cold sweat.
What’s with Sanctuary?
Do they require priority attention?
But no—it shouldn’t be. Just some barely surviving nobodies.
He didn’t know if he was reassuring or deluding himself—telling himself there were no lives in this star sector that could threaten him.
Flashfire turned to go, his retreat a bit hastier than before.
Meanwhile, elsewhere in the stars.
“Your Majesty!”
The Ninth Army’s commander was already set, ready to report to Amos.
“All preparations done, forward units assembled, awaiting your orders.”
Amos looked at the rift in the barrier, then at the pollution zone beyond. His eyes were somber, finally giving the word—Holy Cas’s scarlet banner unfurled, the Ninth and Tenth Armies’ emblems glinting on starships, the barrier itself humming with ancient music.
Listening to this Holy Cas king command,
“Move out.”
“Yes, sir!”
The Holy Cas task force began their sortie.
It had been two days since little Chu Zao went missing.
Elsewhere, few had gotten wind of these events.
Only on a certain small planet,
A girl in a robe sat high above.
Before her was a plate, set with a few pieces of candy.
“Mm, these aren’t bad.”
Shenghua finished her tasting, then quietly told her little brother,
“Let the factories prioritize these kinds.”
“Sure thing, Boss.”
After instructing him, Shenghua exhaled, contemplating her own current situation.
Finally—finally—
She lifted a hand, fingers pressed to the glass, a tiny smile on her lips.
At last, she’d get to see the truth behind that mysterious organization.
Just then—
“Hey—”
Shenghua flinched, turning to find a young man who’d appeared who-knew-when.
“Xi, could you not pop up so quietly? At least make a bit of noise.”
“Oh—”
Xi, still with his half-dead air, made a perfunctory noise, lifted a hand, and rapped lightly on the wall.
“Is this noisy enough?”
Shenghua didn’t bother answering.
She turned away.
“I’ve got things to do—no time to chat.”
“You sure have time when you need supplies.”
Xi grumbled, but still stepped in front of her.
She looked up,
Her face in the hood more striking than ever, raising her eyelids.
“What?”
Xi turned, looking off casually.
“Are you always so interested in Holy Cas?”
He had no idea what Shenghua’s interest in Holy Cas was, but he was sure of one thing.
Shenghua really did react strongly to Holy Cas—especially the Crown Clan.
She hid it well, most couldn’t see it, but after so long together, Xi could read her moods well.
Shenghua paused.
“What are you saying?”
Her tone never changed.
“Sounds like something happened with Holy Cas—tension’s high over there. Just thought I’d mention it.”
Xi tossed it off then glanced at the time.
“I’ve got work to do—see ya.”
As always, he left without waiting for a reply.
Shenghua lingered a few seconds. Something happened with Holy Cas?
What could it be?
Her expression betrayed nothing. Surely their little Highness was fine.
*
Elsewhere in the stars.
It all ended quickly.
This aberrant beast tide could have been fatal for Sanctuary—but to Crown Clan at their full strength, it was trivial.
When Chu Zao and Feeney touched down, Speaker Lai Qing and the others disembarked, standing on open ground, slightly awkward as they saluted unfamiliarly.
Then heard the little Highness ask,
“Why didn’t you just call yourselves Holy Cas from the start?”
It brought confusion on both sides.
“We—”
Lai Qing’s fingers clenched awkwardly, wanting to say more.
But this time, Chu Zao didn’t let him finish. He cut him off.
“Speaker Lai Qing, please—lift your head.”
Lai Qing froze. He looked up to see the softly glowing golden coronet—under it, Chu Zao still seemed a bit green, but now wholly certain.
They heard Chu Zao say: “I pay tribute to your First Army’s resolve and perseverance—and, with your mission completed, welcome you back to Holy Cas.”
Please call yourselves Holy Cas, and do so openly.
Welcome home.
Homeland is not homeland because of worthiness, or whether you stain its name—
But because, when you reach for it with all your might—it comes running to meet you.