It wasn’t quite what he’d imagined.
What was that thing?
Dan’s expression stiffened slightly.
But he still reacted quickly, and even more out of expectations—
This little creature was fast, not like those ordinary monsters.
And its strength wasn’t small, either.
Right as Chu Zao shifted back midair, spinning and kicking, he instantly conjured a golden bow and arrow, drawing the string taut toward him.
He actually still looked a bit youthful.
But his movements were crisp and decisive, with high combat proficiency.
It caught Dan off guard.
Stranger still—somehow, ever since they appeared here, apart from knowing their enmity with those monsters, they’d lost their past, lost any sense of belonging, remembered nothing but their names, not even their relationships with each other, like rootless duckweed—but facing that pretty, young face, there was a weird, unnerving sense of discord.
Dan couldn’t quite place it, but right then, the lethal force he’d prepared abruptly turned aside, and he even called for backup.
“Annailin!”
The member who’d been watching from the side heard Dan call, let out a cold snort, then leaped easily down from a high tree to charge at little Chu Zao while snickering.
“What? You can’t even handle such a little guy?”
“He’s a bit different, subdue him, don’t kill him.”
Dan spoke, though with no hint of friendliness.
For Chu Zao, this place was entirely unfamiliar, and he didn’t know where Chao Huangmu who’d come with him had ended up.
Already on edge, he now faced a clearly unfriendly and powerful group.
Chu Zao tensed all over, the pressure of someone closing in behind making him instantly swing Cupid’s Bow around in midair, aiming at the man coming at him, releasing without hesitation.
Annailin was momentarily caught off guard by those clear honey eyes. He wasn’t surprised by Chu Zao’s sudden shift to human form—regardless of crazed dragons or some special monsters, this was a common occurrence.
But clearly, none of them had Chu Zao’s transparent, clear eyes; eyes that looked perfectly lucid, with no hint of mania or insanity.
No wonder Dan called him for backup.
As Annailin thought this, the golden arrow whizzed over, and he snatched it with a backhand, grinned and commented,
“Too weak.”
But in the next instant, the small youth transformed back into a white ball, fluttering up on six little wings, a shining golden crown halo wobbling above his head, pointy ears pressed tight and nervous, and his fluffy tail fully puffed out and even fluffier.
Before Annailin could react, the psionic arrow in his hand melted into his palm.
Annailin: ?
Annailin froze, instinctively looking again.
“What are you spacing out for?!”
It was Dan, who’d suddenly leaped at him.
Annailin: ……
Okay…
So weird.
Why did Dan suddenly—
Annailin abruptly turned, catching Dan completely off guard, and actually came crashing down right at him. Dan instinctively caught him, face twisted in annoyance.
“What’s your problem? Lost your mind—”
Then, Annailin cupped Dan’s face in his hands.
Dan: ?
Annailin gazed over, a strange ‘deep affection’ in his eyes—though deep affection wasn’t quite right, there was something more complicated.
“It’s said that hate is the deepest love, Dan—”
Dan: ?
Annailin’s finger stroked Dan’s cheek.
Dan: ???!!!!!
Dan exploded.
“What’s wrong with you?!”
Within a flash, Annailin and Dan were in a tangle.
But Annailin’s state gave their scuffle an oddly suggestive vibe.
Meanwhile, Chu Zao, now a small furball and just about to fly off, was suddenly grabbed by the wing—
“Aw!”
The little white ball yelped instinctively.
Chu Zao had been darting away but was seized from behind, startled; he turned to see Desmond’s arrogant, cold face.
Too fast.
What were these people?
Whatever the case, Chu Zao had been trained hard since childhood as the Crown Clan’s next king, the very best of the next generation, and raised on every resource.
Though still somewhat tender, he was nearly there.
Apart from Crown Clan peak adults—Zao Zao couldn’t win often—but that was only due to his youth and growing powers.
Beyond the Crown Clan, he was rarely at a loss—like now.
Chu Zao hadn’t even realized when Desmond had gotten there.
And just like that, Desmond grabbed his little wing.
Desmond hadn’t even planned to act—just a hidden little guy.
Handling it casually, nothing more.
But Desmond would never have guessed what happened next.
Especially when seeing Dan and Annailin wrestling on the ground, Annailin trying to lean in for a kiss: “It’s okay, Dan, I understand, when you say no you mean yes—the more you resist, the more excited I get—”
“You’re insane!!! Annailin, I’m going to crack your skull open!!”
“Is this some new way to show love? Hah, interesting—”
Desmond didn’t dare get closer—to be honest, by the look of it, Desmond worried they’d bite him.
But oddly, he felt hardly any malice from that earlier arrow—though it was accurate.
“What did you do to them?”
Desmond’s blood-tinted honey eyes fixed on the little ball in his grip, wary it might shift human again.
He could tell, anyway—as a furball, it was faster and nimbler, but as a human, it’d wield that strange bow easier.
Chu Zao had no intention of surrendering—the Love and Peace effect was nearly over.
Chu Zao shifted to human form in an instant.
He twisted, kicking Desmond; their powers collided with a soft sound, followed by a shockwave rippling outward.
Pretty strong.
And still not very old.
Desmond didn’t know why, but suddenly concluded just that.
This cub’s guardian must have raised him painstakingly.
Otherwise, he couldn’t be this excellent in every area, with clear signs of accumulated experience—yes, his moves were still a bit rough, but the skills weren’t easily grasped.
How did he end up here?
Desmond watched as little Chu Zao’s wings beat, speeding up instantly, pure white feathers falling, the backlight from the sky outlining him with a faint halo.
His small face was drawn tight in concentration, the gold crown edge transforming in an instant, black flames igniting, black hair flying, coolly and calmly judging the situation, making the best move, drawing the bowstring from high above.
The power shifted.
From harmless, to now aggressive.
Had real force behind it.
Indeed.
Desmond thought.
But—
“Still a bit green.”
Desmond spoke again with a laugh.
“Interesting, little one, where did you come from?”
In a flash, Desmond pulled off a nearly impossible maneuver, jumping up to above Chu Zao and single-handedly pinning the boy’s shoulder. The other hand gripped Chu Zao’s wrist despite being burned by the black fire, unfazed.
The black-flame arrow just fired had punched into the ground with a boom, making the earth tremble.
Flying debris just grazed the wrestling Dan and Annailin below.
“What are you two doing?”
Controlled slightly, Chu Zao didn’t panic, just turned to look behind him.
“If you weren’t trying to grab me, I wouldn’t have attacked.”
“Oh, a misunderstanding then.”
Desmond replied casually.
“You didn’t hide well enough.”
He watched as the cub’s eyes drooped, and he muttered something under his breath—looking a little wronged.
Chu Zao was indeed still rather young, a bit aggrieved—he really did have a knack for running into these spatial incidents: first time with Grandpa Meilun, next with Third Uncle, and now, even trailing right behind Baba and still landed here, even lost Brother Mu.
These people were unreasonable, attacking first—why so rough—
But thanks to his family upbringing, the feeling of grievance quickly faded, and he began to coolly analyze the situation again.
Desmond looked at the cub.
Strange—at that instant, Desmond felt a subtle and odd urge—should he comfort him?
But he snapped out of it: what was he thinking?
For such a strange, unknown little thing? Comfort him?
Ha, what a joke.
Meanwhile, as Love and Peace wore off, Annailin spaced out, only to get socked in the face twice.
Wait, wait, what just happened?
What did he just say?
“I’ll kill you! Annailin!!”
Dan leapt up to pummel the now-clear-headed Annailin.
With activity behind him stilled, Chu Zao paused, and—poof—shifted back to furball mode—much easier to run that way.
Desmond, holding the tiny furball, had his sharp, proud expression go blank for a split second, seeing the small ball in his grip look none too pleased—
Was this uncomfortable?
Desmond shifted his grip, giving the white furball a gentler hold.
Then looked down at the finally separated, thoroughly disgusted pair below.
Love and Peace had worn off.
Hadn’t run away.
Chu Zao mumbled—besides Love and Peace, had he in his rush to shoot thrown in something else? Why did it turn out so messy in love-hate?
Chu Zao peered down as well.
Dan rubbed his face, cursing and glaring at Annailin with an expression even he couldn’t accept.
“Don’t tell me you don’t remember what you just did? How can you even make that face?”
“I wish I could forget!!”
Annailin’s face was twisted beyond belief.
Both stared at the cub dangling from Desmond.
“What the heck is that thing?”
“Not a dragon, not a monster, looks like a regular life form, where from?”
“What happened just now?”
Dan got up and marched over to Chu Zao, stooping to glare at him.
The little one turned away, refusing to interact.
Dan: ?
Hey!
“You’re the one who jumped to conclusions, called him a monster, and attacked first.”
Desmond sneered coldly.
“Unknown life form, we can’t just let it go—”
Annailin stood, sounding a bit extreme and twisted.
“In here, everyone is our enemy—with his threat, he’s more dangerous than the dumb dragons.”
Now angry, Dan glanced at the furball, then the coldly mocking Desmond: “Eh? Desmond, weird—why does this kid’s look remind me of you? Just as annoying.”
Desmond kicked Dan, snorting.
“I look more like my dad.”
When their hostility faded, Chu Zao found escape unlikely and finally shifted back to a youth, Desmond’s hand on his shoulder. He lifted his pretty little face and countered earnestly.
“I fell in by accident, I have to find my way home, I’ll be leaving soon.”
He really wanted to go home, no desire to stay.
Unclear on these people’s backgrounds, but seeing the fuss was over and sensing no malice—and for some reason, feeling they wouldn’t truly harm him.
Which proved true.
But this place had been set up by that “god”, likely to target him, so Chu Zao spoke only vaguely, remaining vigilant.
He swallowed anything about Chao Huangmu or the Stone of Divine Grace.
Whatever about Brother Mu or those things, he’d trust only himself here.
Home?
Going home?
This notion made the few people, who didn’t even know what they themselves were, momentarily dazed.
Dan’s face shifted: “Let’s take him back first.”
Annailin turned without hesitation, muttering, “Boring.”
His back was cold, but maybe after that brawl, the once cool, twisted guy seemed a little aged.
Desmond raised his brows, cold: “Told you, just a little one, not even adult?”
This little furball, these little wings.
The guardians really were irresponsible, dumping such a cub here.
But it made no difference to him.
Desmond remained aloof and arrogant—they were just making sure he wasn’t dangerous, not planning to kill.
“I’m about to have my coming-of-age ceremony!”
Chu Zao couldn’t help but retort.
“Fine, fine, nearly grown, little not-yet-adult.”
Desmond looked down at the cub.
“Come with us.”
Chu Zao: ……
Annoying.
And he couldn’t beat them.
Were the races all this strong here?
Even the Crown Clan couldn’t handle them?
The boy ended up being taken back to their camp.
They’d apparently lived here for ages.
Their lodgings were made from fairly sturdy materials—looked interconnected.
It gave Chu Zao a slightly strange feeling, since he’d seen a similar layout in the royal court.
This small settlement didn’t have many people.
Chu Zao couldn’t make out the full situation.
He only gathered that there were monsters and dragon clan nearby, with occasional pained howls from unknown creatures in the background.
He’d been wary at first, but seeing how calm they were about those sounds, Chu Zao relaxed a bit—these people didn’t seem so hard to get along with after all.
Still, both sides remained wary of each other.
“That kid’s called Chu Zao?”
Out on the camp’s open ground.
Dan frowned, kicking a rock.
“Should be.”
Desmond replied carelessly.
“As long as we’re sure he’s not a threat later, letting him go isn’t a problem—not our business—”
“Yeah, true, doesn’t look like those dumb dragons, and what is that? Little halo? Little wings? Doesn’t seem related, just a cub looking for home—and obviously well cared for, makes one just… annoyed…”
Dan muttered softly, glancing around.
“Who knows where Annailin’s gone, disgusting, I almost want to avoid him, after what he said.”
“That’s probably the cub’s ability.”
Desmond said, grinning arrogantly.
“Only you guys would fall for it.”
“Well, who’d have thought that harmless-looking arrow would do that—”
Dan fumed.
“And the monsters have been crazier than ever lately, my head aches, haven’t slept a full night in ages.”
“You’d better get some rest.”
Desmond glanced over.
His expression darkened.
“Don’t get sent off again this year.”
“Haha, shouldn’t come to that—honestly, you should go first—Desmond, you’re about at your limit, right?”
Through the occasional howls, the two exchanged glances, speaking easily but the air was heavy.
After millennia of constant fighting and breakdowns, just struggling to keep emotions balanced, they had no roots, no goals, no sense of purpose, only persevering with wiping out monsters and dragons as meaning.
Now, only a few remained sane—when they lost it, they’d go mad, attack others and themselves.
So, they’d taken to locking up those who’d lost their minds.
Truth be told, they didn’t know how much longer they’d last.
It went silent around them.
Desmond and Dan said nothing.
“All right, Louisa said she’s got food ready for the kid.”
Dan spoke—Louisa being one who stayed at the camp all year.
“Monsters are getting closer—when he’s sent away, hope he doesn’t run into them—haha.”
But that wasn’t their business, yes, none of their concern.
Feeling his own words dry and dull, Desmond wandered off, not even bothering to reply, walking ahead.
Passing by where little Chu Zao was staying, both paused.
Looking inside—
Chu Zao wasn’t hurt, just drained of power, and in a place like this, with little sense of safety, a bit tense, so he simply turned back to his handy furball form.
Right now, the white little ball was perched on the table, investigating some unfamiliar fruit—it had been steamed, tasted slightly sweet, doughy and starchy.
Food supply here was ample, and as they didn’t care much for deriving energy from food, nor for clothing, etc., they’d grown numb over time.
But something about the cub made it feel odd.
The little white ball took a bite, chewed with his head cocked, nearly choking and stretching his neck long, eventually swallowing, eyeing the fruit suspiciously.
“Haha…”
Dan watched, snickering low—Desmond had had the same reaction the first time he ate these.
But a moment later, he stifled his laugh.
Laughing?
Dan hesitated, growing gloomy.
Weird, why did this completely unrelated little thing make him feel so at ease?
Probably just because the kid was skilled and more likable than the dumb dragons, so he paid more attention.
Nothing else to it.
Just like their past habits.
Everything under control.
Yet—
Watching Desmond nearby, and Annailin observing from a tree, even cold Louisa had wandered from her training to walk by the window, glancing in now and then.
Damn, why was everyone here?
Dan cursed, feeling more and more unsettled.
Until Desmond said,
“Don’t come into my room the next few days.”
Dan looked over; Desmond’s face as impassive as ever, but with sweat on his brow and a cold gleam in his eye showing his state.
“Can’t hold it together?”
Desmond said nothing, turning to head deep inside.
The furball form felt safest for Chu Zao.
After a few days here, he’d stayed a furball, the calm helping his nerves, and he’d learned a bit about the place.
Apparently this wasn’t the main race of this space. There’s very few people, and they were often out dealing with monsters or troublemaking dragons—he’d only seen a few faces these last days.
And as for the one with the same name as Great-grandpa, Chu Zao hadn’t seen him again since arriving.
Others kept their distance, always seeming busy and not speaking much to him, only seen occasionally in passing.
And they were strong, reminding Chu Zao of when his aunt and uncle first returned and weren’t yet familiar, hovering quietly at a distance.
He’d been smaller then, never noticing Feeney and the rest.
Now, much older, he picked up on things.
Aside from some minor scuffles at first, this place seemed all right.
Chu Zao relaxed a little, tried a few times to leave to look for Chao Huangmu or the Stone of Divine Grace, but every time he left the camp, he’d be persuaded to stay “for observation,” saying they’d help look for his guardian.
They only restricted his leaving the camp, nothing more.
His psionic power was slowly recovering, and these people’s moods seemed down anyway, so the furball didn’t fuss.
Still, was Baba worried sick?
And where had Brother Mu ended up?
He’d described Brother Mu, but no one had found him.
The little furball was in the open ground, digging at a stick, scribbling the rough terrain—his observation over the days.
Whew—
That seemed about right—
Chu Zao cocked his head, tail sweeping.
Big honey-colored eyes calm.
He’d memorized the terrain, ready to leave at any time.
Just then, another muffled, suppressed growl sounded—
He looked up instantly.
Same sound as before?
He suddenly realized something was wrong.
The sound was very close and not far away.
Little wings fluttering, Chu Zao flew up, scanning around.
He heard it again, from the very end of the buildings.
Sounded painful.
The sky was still gloomy, the usual here, always lit by energy lamps Chu Zao didn’t fully get. Turning a corner, he thought he saw something glint in the light.
Like a flash from a lamp.
Just as he was pondering that, another pained, muffled cry sounded.
Chu Zao paused, then flapped his wings and flew over—what was going on?
Maybe from seeing his elders suffer so much, Chu Zao couldn’t help but pay more attention to such things.
In a room at the far end.
Desmond, forcibly restraining himself, had bloodshot eyes, his haughty brows spattered with blood, looking all the more fierce. The room was a wreck and red-soaked, the deepest moments of restraint being the worst suffering.
With no source and no destination, every end was only a prelude to more pain.
It was despairing.
But at least this round would end soon.
Almost over.
Really almost over?
Desmond lowered his eyes, sneering.
Whatever, didn’t matter—monsters, dumb dragons—
He’d vent a bit later.
It was nothing.
Desmond’s body shuddered slightly from pain, the collapse of a power they couldn’t explain.
They were used to it by now.
It was just their unchanging daily routine.
Unchanging routine… that’s all…
The window he’d sealed but then damaged suddenly rattled.
Desmond paused, instinctively lifting his fierce gaze.
Through the gap, a little white paw quietly hooked inside, scratching softly.
What was that?
Desmond froze, suddenly recalling the little thing they’d taken in earlier.
Dan hadn’t tossed the cub out yet?
As he was wondering this, the white ball seemed assured the gap was safe, not enough to get his head stuck, and a few seconds later, a fluffy little head squeezed in, ears pressed back then straightening as it popped through, eyes opening wide.
—A fluffy little head squeezed in?