Your task has been completed—welcome back to Holy Cas.
No one could feel the weight of those words more deeply than they did at that moment.
But perhaps because the wait had been too long, even Lai Qing was somewhat numb, the intense shock making them all slow to react for a while.
Countless mechas fell behind them, bearing fresh scars.
On this scorched land, that dream—nearly a thousand years old, awaited for centuries as if in a fantasy—had finally come true.
But it was Chu Zao who paused to think—
He had indeed learned many things and had followed Baba in handling some matters, but after all, he was still a young and inexperienced member of the Crown Clan. He had very little clue about how to organize such a chaotic place, let alone that the Holy Sanctuary had been separated from Holy Cas for so long. In these hundreds, nearly a thousand years, people had come and gone in countless waves, and the Sanctuary already had its own leadership system.
Although compared to other countries and races in this star sector, the Holy Sanctuary’s residents weren’t many, it was still a domain that had struggled under such cruel rules for a thousand years. They saw themselves as pathetic, but not so pitiful or sparsely populated; it was just that their internal strength had been diminished time and again, fighting bitterly here.
In this respect, the young Crown Clan member did sense from this crowd something reminiscent of being back on Cas Imperial Star, but just to be safe, he asked again.
“The Holy Cas team will soon arrive in this region. I’m not familiar with local governance. Let me confirm again, for now, you will keep things running internally, and we will provide recommendations and shelter based on Holy Cas’s current situation. When Baba arrives, or unless—you’d rather have me—”
“We want that!”
Little Chu Zao hadn’t even finished his sentence before Lai Qing broke into tears.
Jolted back to his senses by that cry, some couldn’t hold it back anymore, turning away to hide their tears. Those Holy Cas Sanctuary residents who hadn’t yet heard the news and suddenly saw Chu Zao and party standing before them were dumbfounded, their eyes slowly reddening.
What internal maintenance—none of that mattered.
What mattered was that, in this terrifying wave of pollution, once again, just as in legend, someone pulled them out.
They hadn’t shamed their homeland… it was such a relief.
Lai Qing bowed deeply.
“Please—you, once more, like when we were children, lead us.”
“Of course.”
Chu Zao paused.
He realized the Holy Sanctuary was like a land lost, drifting in this cruel star sector for hundreds, nearly a thousand years, accumulating too many unsettled emotions and needing stability.
“Please come with me to discuss specifics regarding the territory.”
Lai Qing seemed relieved, straightened his back, and stepped aside.
Feeney wasn’t adept at this kind of interaction.
In Feeney’s own words—he was never much of a good sort and naturally irascible. To be the backbone of such an uneasy place?
That’d only double the temper.
But Zao Zao handled it beautifully.
Feeney saw the slight spread of six wings behind himself, backlit by swirling dust; after the recent battle, the radiance was dimmer, and the gilded crown’s glow fell. That little one who used to trot behind them, noisy and energetic, was now—every inch the part.
Yet Chao Huangmu’s gaze had never fallen on these Holy Sanctuary people; he stared only at little Chu Zao from beginning to end.
He watched Chu Zao’s crown and his wings and those eyes that usually held no emotion was now shimmering.
How could he not understand?
Chao Huangmu fiddled with the space button he carried—he almost heard the sound of those pretty gems, that ring of something pure and bright.
That feeling—of being treasured.
He couldn’t look away.
—So dazzling, dazzling enough to illuminate so many others.
All along, Chao Huangmu thought having a place by Zao Zao’s side was enough, but now, belatedly, he felt just a little bit—not satisfied.
All of Zao Zao’s attention was being drawn away from him.
Little Chu Zao followed Lai Qing and the others into the starship.
Behind them, all was still.
The Holy Cas Sanctuary residents quietly watched Chu Zao and Feeney’s retreating figures. After a moment, some injured in the recent chaos slid quietly to the floor, and the occasional crackling of damaged mecha echoed through the air.
“It’s the Crown Clan…”
“It really is—”
“Holy Cas is still here—I, I must go tell my great-grandmother Holy Cas is still here—”
“His Highness said we completed our mission, that our existence… means something.”
No longer just barely surviving, no longer doubting if any of this struggle mattered every time they saw ‘wolves’ and ‘lambs’ reveling together in chaos.
“Holy Cas’s forces are coming.”
Their perseverance had meaning.
“Wu wu wu…”
“Wu wu wu wu…”
At last, subdued weeping started up from behind.
As if afraid that Chu Zao and the others would hear, the crying was especially soft.
The three from Chu Zao’s group kept walking.
They headed deeper into the starship.
Lai Qing and the rest walked by their side, Lai Qing even taking the time to direct others to prepare living quarters for Chu Zao and his party.
While giving instructions, the group chattered on, not stopping.
“The place has to be spacious—”
“Don’t let them see those shattered walls.”
“Oh, and, go see if that traveling merchant is still nearby?”
“Find two plants, maybe? Should help purify the air—”
“And food…”
The more they spoke, the more enthusiastic they got, as if wanting to recreate the Holy Cas Imperial Court.
But after blurting it all out, they hung their heads—
They didn’t have fancy ships or houses, only a ragtag fleet of battered starships, many still under emergency repair and barely able to fly. Food was scarce. Since the aberrant beasts appeared, most common meat sources had vanished from the sector and vegetables were almost impossible to grow. They had to extract nutrients from all sorts of inedible things.
They’d gotten used to eating that stuff, but this was Prince Feeney and the Little Highness—how could they feed them such things?
Damn, there were so many things they couldn’t manage—what to do?
They were like a flock of foraging birds, haphazardly waiting for the main force to arrive, all lost and battered by disaster, each with feathers bristling and drooping with defeat.
Looking like they could shatter at any moment.
It made Chu Zao hesitate to speak.
Even Feeney couldn’t help but say:
“No need to be so particular. In Holy Cas, we’re often out on duty and not picky about accommodations or food—”
Feeney paused, glancing at the cub beside him.
“Not picky.”
Feeney didn’t mind for himself, but he still thought all sorts of delicious treats should be prepared for this little one; he’d never let the cub go hungry.
But apparently Chao Huangmu had brought plenty.
For a second, Feeney even found Chao Huangmu more agreeable.
But these words didn’t make the Holy Cas Sanctuary members any happier.
Lai Qing shifted the subject, trying to steer away from the awkwardness.
“This is the current star sector power map, led by the Gesen Empire. Most factions cooperate with aberrant beasts, regularly offering up their own people as food. These are the more neutral states and powers, but they’re inconsequential, just going with the flow. And then there’s us—the Holy Sanctuary—and a few others, always resisting the aberrant beasts, but achieving little. Among those close to us, the Eastern Alliance is our main collaborator.”
Chu Zao stood before the command platform, eyes on the list displayed on the screen.
The young Crown Clan member skimmed it quickly.
“Your formal survival competition is in seven days?”
“Yes.”
“You’re short on people to send out, aren’t you?”
Chu Zao pressed further.
Lai Qing and the others looked stung, bowing their heads.
“Yes, we can barely form a single mecha squad, but this year, the Sanctuary is pitted against everyone else, so victory will be very hard.”
“Oh, we don’t need that kind of hunting game victory.”
Chu Zao replied casually.
His smoothly rounded face wore a thoughtful look.
He gently glanced their way again.
“Well, have three people ready for it anyway. We should at least observe the survival match.”
Chu Zao said, turning to Feeney.
“Right, Third Uncle?”
Since entering, Feeney hadn’t approached the command platform, leaning instead against the wall. He clicked his tongue.
“Mm, but I think you’d better stay with me at all times.”
Feeney, who had long since gotten used to accidents happening around him, hadn’t had one in ages.
This time, tasked with looking after the cub alone, Feeney felt no relief—just anxiety. Were they about to face some new disaster?
In fact, their previous plans hadn’t accounted for this.
There was little time before the preliminary games, so they’d mostly planned just to observe, maybe reach out to potential partners. The survival match hadn’t been decided yet.
After all, participating further was a bit high-profile. They had contingency plans depending on whether Amos would arrive before the match.
But now, that precondition was gone.
This wasn’t about some potential ally—the true heirs of Holy Cas were here.
In an instant, they were no longer outsiders. The plan had to be properly adjusted.
What they needed wasn’t any damn survival match victory.
What they needed was for Holy Cas to win—against the aberrant beasts, the Hymn Organization, and that damnable god lurking behind them—on all fronts.
“But your mechas are interesting. Lend me one when the time comes.”
Chu Zao said. He thought a moment.
“We shouldn’t make a scene when we enter—”
Use the mechas as cover.
Feeney’s expression became strange—for the Crown Clan, mechas were so clumsy, so uncomfortable and fragile as paper. At any moment, they might snap a handle or break a button, with that feeling of strength going to waste.
Back on the Holy Cas Imperial Star, as a child, Feeney had tried it once, but quickly gave up.
“But Little Highness, this will be very dangerous.”
Lai Qing, who’d waited patiently, finally seized the chance to interject as Chu Zao finished.
“The Gesen Empire’s mecha teams are strong indeed—they can even handle those aberrant beast tides. It’s just that we’re too weak now—”
Their psionic power, after repeated injuries, had diminished further.
Leaving the Sanctuary more desperate each year.
Lai Qing lowered his head again.
“I’m worried you’ll get the wrong impression and impair your judgment.”
Unlike the supremely confident Holy Cas people, who believed their Emperor and Highnesses could handle anything, Lai Qing’s generation of Holy Sanctuary members had lost confidence in themselves over time. Outwardly, with outsiders, they’d hold fast and resist to the end, but facing their own, their vulnerability showed, the wounds deep.
It left them feeling discouraged and depressed.
And just this one small aberrant beast tide hadn’t changed their perception of the Crown Clan—they hadn’t grasped what the near-mythical, ageless Crown Clan truly represented.
“No, you’ve done well.”
Chu Zao replied again.
“You all need to be more confident. I already said, hold your heads up.”
“You heard?”
Feeney repeated it.
“Hold your heads up.”
“Yes!”
Lai Qing straightened at once.
Feeney leaned at the door, giving a lazy smile.
“Dangerous, misjudgment—rare words, those.”
Crown Clan members, who were depended upon and trusted, seldom heard such terms. At most, the Holy Cas people might whimper with worry, but never doubt the Crown Clan’s decisions.
“Don’t worry, leave it to us—”
“And one more thing—”
Chu Zao added, after a moment’s thought.
“The Holy Sanctuary’s combat style is different from Holy Cas’s—we’re less used to it. There’s a small starship that came with us from the Uninhabitable Planet; see if you can bring it back and study it. Some of its tech should be handy, for reinforcing your ships’ defenses and firepower.”
“Understood.”
Lai Qing nodded again.
Everyone stared at Chu Zao, hardly blinking.
Just then, someone hurried to the door, stopping hesitantly upon seeing Chu Zao, Feeney, and then Lai Qing.
Little Chu Zao was still studying the local power map, but spoke without even turning his head.
“What is it? Come in and say it.”
Startled, the person stammered,
“Y-yes, that’s it. Your Highnesses, Chairman, lately we’ve had too many wounded in the Sanctuary, our medical supplies are running low. We need to send out a team to gather more—”
Low on medicine?
Chu Zao looked up.
“How much is left? Where do you gather? How much do you need? Any relevant info?”
“It’ll last until tomorrow night. We gather from a nearby planet, collecting a kind of ore for refining. But with the pollution tide just passed, the timing’s uncertain, so we need to leave as soon as possible.”
The man stumbled at first, but quickly gave a concise report.
“How soon at best?”
Chu Zao said, glancing outside at the sky.
The source star had already set, with night falling fast.
There was still outfitting and assembling the team—no wonder they were anxious.
“If all goes well, a round trip in half a day, a few hours to collect, a few more to refine, so a full day total. To make it work, we’d have to leave first thing tomorrow.”
“I see—”
Chu Zao propped his pretty face on his palm.
The expressions of Lai Qing and other council members were subtly awkward.
A bit embarrassed and at a loss—
No proper place to stay, food was poor, even medicine running out. Since meeting Chu Zao, it’s as if all they’d done was show their worst side.
This made the Cas people—always trying to present the best to the Crown Clan—especially uneasy.
“Little Highness, I’ll assemble a team right away to gather the ore.”
Lai Qing said quickly.
“If it’s urgent, we’ll come with you.”
Chu Zao replied, still entirely patient.
The young Crown Clan had always displayed the qualities of Cas’s next emperor—calm, reliable, decisive.
But unlike Amos, little Chu Zao was gentle, at least with his own people. Faced with enemies, Amos might strike without hesitation, but little Chu Zao would likely smile and reason with you first—then strike.
Either way, he would act.
Gentle but never soft, little Chu Zao displayed no excessive emotional fluctuation, which only settled everyone further.
“You’re going…?”
Lai Qing was stunned.
He cautiously asked.
“Mm. Go prepare, and report back when ready.”
Said Chu Zao.
“There’s enough time, don’t worry. Have those spare rooms set up? We’ll have a look.”
“Yes.”
Lai Qing quickly agreed.
He watched Chu Zao and his group leave the command room.
They were all still a bit dazed.
Everything felt too miraculous, too fast.
But—
“Truly the legendary sacred crown…”
Someone whispered in awe.
That kind of leadership could only be forged by countless trials, refined into resolve, distilled into calm, and ultimately steadfast and reliable in facing anything.
It was just then that a message came from the Eastern Alliance.
“Chairman, news from the Eastern Alliance.”
Lai Qing snapped back, glancing at the comms, heart still pounding.
“Put it through.”
Actually, the Eastern Alliance’s message wasn’t late—they’d just misjudged the duration of this pollution tide. Or perhaps they hadn’t expected the Sanctuary might actually receive the descent of a hero and end the tide altogether.
It had all ended far too quickly.
Let alone elsewhere, even the Sanctuary itself hadn’t reacted yet.
“Chairman Lai Qing.”
On screen, the Eastern Alliance’s Chairman Shi He appeared.
Shi He looked at Lai Qing, seriousness in his expression.
“I received news that you’ve been struck by a pollution tide. We suspect this was a plot. While we can’t publicly stand with the Sanctuary, we always said at the start we admire your persistence deeply, even if we can’t match your integrity. But at times like this, we must help you, or someone will push too far.”
Lai Qing looked at Shi He.
Fresh back from outside, red-eyed from weeping, Lai Qing was far from presentable.
Seeing this, the Eastern Alliance Chairman was even more distressed, and Shi He spoke again.
“You’ve already left your station? Where are you headed? There’s a plateau near us you can stay at until the survival match. The Gesen Empire is already planning something against you. Best not to send teams out alone.”
Shi He didn’t dare ask too much, simply offering gravely.
“Everything will get better. This will pass.”
But that was all they could say—the Eastern Alliance was powerless in this brutal game.
“The Alliance mecha team is departing soon to aid you.”
This is such a brutal star sector.
Shi He lowered his head.
“No.”
“We can’t help much—eh?”
Suddenly Shi He caught himself.
He looked up at Lai Qing.
“We don’t need the Eastern Alliance’s support at the moment.”
Said Lai Qing.
“Everything is going to get better. Yes, everything will get better.”
Shi He was taken aback.
He fell into a deep confusion.
Because he realized—
Both Lai Qing and the councilors behind him had a brilliant light in their eyes.
It was like they’d found faith once more.
Busy on the other end, the communication ended directly.
In the Eastern Alliance, everyone looked at each other.
Until someone rushed in, speaking quickly.
“Chairman, the Holy Sanctuary isn’t moving; looks like the pollution tide is fading away there.”
What??
Shi He looked back in confusion.
Wasn’t the Sanctuary supposed to be… finished?
How did they not?
Back on Chu Zao’s side, they were led through corridors, crowds, and finally into an empty room.
It was clear the Sanctuary had tried their best to give them the very best, but just couldn’t.
Once the door closed, Chu Zao’s smile vanished, Chao Huangmu following closely behind.
Feeney was still grinning blithely.
“Geez, turns out it’s the First Army’s descendants. I thought this was a fallback post for collaborations. Now it’s a base for real. Zao Zao, has your psionic power grown again? Feels like you even blasted away the pollution.”
Feeney spoke, then turned, startled by the little one with his head down. “Zao Zao?”
Chao Huangmu had been at a loss since earlier, ever since Zao Zao tugged his clothes right after entering and then let go—a tiny gesture that, to someone who knew Chu Zao well, said the little one was anxious.
Though nearly of age, the cub hesitated, but when no one was looking, raised his hands and burrowed into Feeney’s arms.
Feeney was briefly at a loss.
“What’s up? So big and still acting spoiled?”
The baby-like face tried to bring out a smile but failed.
In an instant, that cherubic face darkened, and he grew suspicious—who upset my cub?
Chu Zao buried into Feeney’s embrace, just like when he was small, then slowly raised his head. Those honey-colored eyes remained calm, steady, reliable.
Zao Zao had learned so much, but was he really entirely reliable and calm in the face of all this? No.
In a muffled voice—only at moments like this, did a touch of real emotion slip out from the little Crown Clan member.
“Everything here is so broken. They’re eating things that smell bitter, and even when hurt, they’re out of medicine… It just makes me feel bad.”
—Zao Zao felt uneasy to see it all.