In Desmond’s suddenly widened eyes, golden and black spiraling flames flashed past, soaring toward the eyeball in midair.
What?
The force tangled around and entwining them was rapidly dispelled.
Everyone instinctively turned toward Chu Zao.
In that moment of raging rain and golden snow, they froze in astonishment.
That little one—what did he say?
Great…grandfather?
The golden snow melted into them—or rather, it wasn’t really golden snow, but golden psionic power released from little Chu Zao’s crown.
Like drifting willow catkins, landing on their bodies, warm—like warm snow.
Who were they?
“Chu Zao…?”
Desmond had already turned over in midair, looking at the incoming Chu Zao, his voice filled with confusion, while above his head, the blood-colored eye glowered fiercely, the surrounding force erupting violently.
The scattered eyes and mouths began to twist and reassemble, emitting rage no normal creature could make, forming even more contorted monstrous shapes.
Damn it, damn it, damn it—
‘God’ roared. From amused mockery at first, to indifference when the Crown Clan resisted, and now to this—everything that once seemed so easily handled was being unraveled every time.
It was as if he were the final boss being beaten layer after layer.
It shouldn’t have been like this.
Kill this little one—kill this little one at all costs!!!
Chu Zao still gripped Chao Huangmu, but with his other hand, he seized Desmond’s wrist.
“Desmond Dwight.”
Chu Zao said.
“You are the Crown Clan; your place of forgotten return is the Holy Cas Empire.”
Chu Zao looked around—after thousands of years, only these few were left.
He had grown up. He had already… shifted from the protected to the protector.
No one—may bully Zao Zao’s clansmen.
Crown Clan?
Holy Cas Empire?
There was still confusion in their eyes, but miraculously, wrapped in that golden power, their bodies slowly relaxed, and as they were healed bit by bit, those images seemed to return, slowly emerging.
Xi was hauling himself outside, slowly, propping up his battered body—one arm had been half-devoured by the greedy, artificially altered psionic force.
What lay before him seemed like the end of the world.
Countless monsters twisted and formed, while that so-called ‘God’ tasted defeat.
Xi leaned by the door, hearing Chu Zao’s words, stunned—Crown Clan.
There were Crown Clan here too?
And they had survived here for thousands of years?
No wonder they were the long-lived race that gave the Hymn Organization such a headache, truly tough as nails.
Xi lowered his gaze again.
Surprised by how quickly his position had shifted, he now somehow stood on the Crown Clan’s side—
But they had to win.
The Crown Clan.
They must win—
Little Highness.
*
On the interstellar front.
Many from the Holy Cas Empire’s Crown Clan had already rushed to this battlefield—targeting the mutated, now more powerful monsters within the pollution.
Frey, with the Angel Spring Stone, stood guard at the spot where Chu Zao disappeared—where Emperor Desmond’s generation of the Crown Clan had perished.
“Your Majesty, we have reached our objective.”
The commander of the Ninth Army, Yemeng, was at his calmest yet.
Especially after determining these emerging monsters were directly related to the pollution, and their power had surged again.
Was this the final battle?
Almost everyone from Holy Cas who had arrived thought so.
Impossible to say.
Amos sat at his station, quietly watching the screen.
Moments later, news of all teams in position came in, and Amos rose.
Amos’s figure appeared on every starship’s viewscreen.
The Dwight family, and other Crown Clan families arrived, looking up at their absolute leader on screen.
“Once, faced with untraceable pollution, we could not resist; but today is not as before. The transformation the Crown Clan sought may begin from today. Since Zao Zao appeared, we have seized every variable, finally driving the mastermind behind the pollution to madness.”
Amos extended his hand slightly, silvery-black radiance forming in his palm, solidifying into a long sword.
“These past thousands of years, the Crown Clan paid a tremendous price. So did Holy Cas. There are only two paths before us now—destroy them, or be destroyed.”
Amos’s voice was calm. He gripped the sword’s hilt, brandishing it in command.
“Go, claim victory.”
And bring their youngest home!
Elsewhere, as Amos’s words fell, Feeney was first to loose his bowstring; in that instant, countless arrows of psionic power shot into the polluted depths at the mutant beasts.
All the Crown Clan then launched their assault in unison.
This star sector, stripped of the Gesen Empire, was instantly headless and seized rapidly, while reinforcements from Holy Cas allied countries and organizations poured in, communications were rapidly established and the landscape changed at lightning speed.
The Holy Chalice Clan also sent people to research newly developed equipment.
A specially outfitted small starship also arrived at the ancient gravesite—where Emperor Desmond and the others fell centuries ago. Inside, a young man in tattered cloak removed his sunglasses, eyes deep and grave as he watched from afar.
As Frey, holding the Angel Spring Stone and overseeing the rear, looked on, he suddenly sensed something. He looked up.
“Your Highness! Look—the bones of Emperor Desmond—”
“And over there—those too—are they glowing?”
Among the dozens of Crown Clan bones buried here, some suddenly began to emit a faint light.
Even the Angel Spring Stone Frey carried, long unresponsive, started to glow faintly.
“What… is happening?”
Frey spoke softly, puzzled.
*
Dragon Realm.
At the instant Chu Zao tried to aid Desmond and the others, as the memories of their past surfaced, Chu Zao too seemed pulled into those memories. The transmission was quick but overwhelming.
The newly formed Holy Cas was still a young, tender empire.
The Crown Clan were inconsistent about using starships, didn’t really cooperate with the Holy Cas people, and their expeditions were mostly in-race. They sensed the pollution, its impact on the galaxy, and discovered Aberrant Beasts; to be safe, the Crown Clan formed a team to investigate.
Emperor Desmond was not the somber monarch Chu Zao had known or heard of.
He was unruly and flamboyant, always wore a lazy grin, and as a long-lived race, looked ageless and full of vigor.
“Clansis, that brat, no idea what goes on in his head, always so stiff-faced, nothing like me as his father.”
Desmond lounged with his cheek in his hand, sniffing lightly.
“But after coming of age, he ran off with Ebinino’s girl and had a cub so quickly. Not bad—me, I don’t even have a mate, just that one son, and he’s already outdoing me.”
“You’ve been showing off all the way.”
A Crown Clan member mocked him.
“Just bragging about your son, huh? Yes, yes, the future king’s amazing. Just got married and already on his second cub, never seen anyone so eager. Did you at least visit before you left?”
“I glanced at him—called Amos, not very conscious, pretty cute, but seems quiet, not lively in the habitat.”
Desmond laughed back.
“With Clansis and Solan both so strong psionically, that’s normal.”
Back then, the Crown Clan weren’t many, and although fond of cubs, it wasn’t easy to bear them; the habitat regulated it carefully.
With such long lives, only a handful sought mates; some even liked mates from other races, and many, in the long ages, lost their spouses and were devastated by grief.
Their generational gaps spanned only a thousand years or so—short by Crown Clan standards.
Every cub was precious—let alone having two so fast.
“In this hundred years, a lot of cubs have been born, even some twins; but understandable, Your Majesty, that you’re excited. The sooner this is over, the sooner you see your cubs. Clansis probably looks forward to your return.”
“Him? Wants me home? He’d be glad to have me wandering longer, gives those lovebirds more alone time.”
Desmond snorted with a laugh.
“Ebinino should be dragged out, too. That brat dared disobey—I’m his king! Gotta teach him a lesson back home.”
Listen to yourself.
He spoke of punishing Ebinino, but was obviously proud of his son stealing away the girl, oblivious to how upset Ebinino was.
The “orders” to Ebinino were half-joke anyway.
Laughter rang.
“Only because Ebinino can’t beat you.”
Someone quipped nearby.
“Notice how Ebinino never wants to act with you?”
The starship flew for a long time.
Chu Zao, as if watching from a bystander’s view, witnessed the fall of this Crown Clan group.
He saw the pollution—though the Crown Clan then didn’t realize its fatal impact, nor knew it would, within a decade, expand rapidly, destroy their habitat, and shatter crowns, casting the last generation into constant despair.
Their voices were casual.
“That’s the place where those monsters appeared?”
“Let’s go have a look—”
The Crown Clan left the now-lost starship, white wings flapping as they charged into the pollution.
It wasn’t real, but Chu Zao couldn’t help but call out: “Don’t go—”
That was the source of pollution, lethal for the Crown Clan.
But the habitat then… was affected, not yet destroyed, right?
Desmond and company going missing, their crowns broken—was one of the first cases after pollution ravaged the Clan.
It was a brutal blow that left lasting anguish.
From then on, Emperor Desmond disappeared, and Clansis became King.
Now, Chu Zao saw it all vividly.
He watched them reach the pollution’s core and get entangled, comms failing, crowns affected, psionics malfunctioning, and they couldn’t outrun the spread.
In a breath, Desmond realized how lethal the pollution was for their kind.
The spreading force raged, Aberrant Beasts, once cleared, reappeared stronger each time.
The Crown Clan would be utterly crushed—
Those who could have fled tried holding the pollution back, doing all they could. Their power stalled it, but the situation spiraled out of control.
One by one, the Crown Clan fell. Even with crowns still ablaze, they perished inside the pollution’s force.
At last, only Desmond was left.
He stood atop the highest mount, his vast true form grimly pressing back the encroaching force, which, as it faded, turned into the stone Chu Zao had shot earlier.
That was likely the heart of ‘God’s’ interstellar plunder.
The exhausted Crown Clan pinned the force beneath him, crown still bright, his psionically linked to those around, whose crowns remained though their lives were taken.
Who knew how long passed; at first, Aberrant Beasts kept coming, but now this place had turned into a meat grinder for their kind, imprinting fear on mindless Beasts ever since—Beasts could sense dread after that day.
They’d stunned even ‘God.’
But at last, the colossus ran dry of strength; both sides exhausted, Desmond’s eyes closed.
He lay quietly atop the mountain, just as when they discovered his bones.
The spirited king, atop his bloodied people’s bodies, grew silent and withdrawn, right until the penultimate fall—showing little emotion, until the very end.
Was it the Crown Clan’s pride that doomed them?
No one knew, but there was no way out. Such power checked them.
Checked those who’d laughed and bantered not long before.
It was like a grand elegy.
Unprecedented in scale.
Desmond was crying.
Desmond was holding back tears.
But he had to grit his teeth—for the young still growing in the habitat, for the newborn empire.
Large tears rolled down a face not yet a skeleton.
“Great-grandfather.”
Grown up now, Chu Zao rarely cried, but suddenly his nose stung, his vision blurred.
The shield line was actually the second line of defense.
The first was founded here, a stand against the Crown Clan’s bane, stalling the pollution’s spread.
It gave the Crown Clan’s home time to react.
‘God’s’ specialty was pillaging, devouring, and warping space.
After ruining the Angel Realm, now he tormented the Dragon Realm, and, delayed in his advance, grew covetous of Crown Clan power.
So when the Crown Clan’s crowns couldn’t be sensed, when Desmond’s shattered, ‘God’ greedily dragged them into the Dragon Realm, trying to devour their seized psionic power.
But the Crown Clan’s will was too strong. ‘God’ couldn’t consume it, only wait for its collapse before devouring, to avoid being overwhelmed.
Thus, Desmond and the others in the Dragon Realm remembered only their names—nothing else.
Because they were incomplete.
No crowns or wings—because they were pure psionic forms. They couldn’t die, only collapse, losing all mental presence.
When the consciousness built from psionic force faded, and their outer bodies died, then their true death came—a death of agony.
They should have continued forgetting, until the last one broke, their presence scattered, completely mad, and used as fodder, swallowed like their lost kin.
But before that—a snow-white fluffball barged in.
It was a homecoming never imagined.
The memories pierced barriers, restored, recalled; all in moments.
A cub—of their race?
Chu Zao, standing at Desmond’s side amid the apocalyptic scene, was dazed a moment.
“A…cub…”
“The Dwight family’s cub?”
“The next king? Has he had his coming of age? The Crown Clan still has cubs—”
“We are…the Crown Clan?”
For a brief instant, those who recalled their past left all else behind, some flashing instantly to Chu Zao’s side.
They reached out, but dared not touch, only widened their eyes to gaze intently at the little cub after all these centuries.
Their return, their past—
Would it be found?
It would.
“Holy Cas…? That name’s almost unfamiliar.”
For these founders of Holy Cas, the new nation’s name was never that familiar.
“Who are you…” Desmond looked down, gentle, “whose cub?”
Chu Zao couldn’t hold back, sniffling, one hand still holding Chao Huangmu—who, obligingly, shifted to little dragon form and flapped inside the white backpack with just his head sticking out.
Chu Zao flung himself into Desmond’s arms.
He buried his face in Desmond’s rough clothing, sobbed lightly twice, trying to muffle the sounds.
But the others picked it up instantly, and Desmond was flustered.
Don’t cry, cub.
The few Crown Clan behind Desmond reached out but didn’t dare touch him.
Dan and Annailin grabbed their heads, as if the sky was falling. What, what?! Was this winning the lottery??? How did Chu Zao pick them first?
Ahhh—they’d manhandled the cub before…
Oh no, they’d manhandled the cub! They’d lose custody rights for life!
Oh my god!!! They’d manhandled the cub!
The young boy’s voice nasally: “My father is Amos, Amos Dwight—the current king of Holy Cas.”
Desmond seemed to freeze.
Amos Dwight.
—Current king of Holy Cas?
So much time had passed.
So that’s it.
Clansis—his cub—was gone?
What of the other Crown Clan?
And the habitat?
How’s Holy Cas?
Why was Chu Zao here?
Why was he looking for a way out? Some trouble outside?
Where was Amos now?
How could he—so irresponsibly—let the cub end up in such danger?
Desmond and the others had countless questions. Finding home again brought not relief but worry.
Yet now was clearly not the time.
A heavy thump sounded—
Dan spun, dealt a brutal blow to a monster closing in, forcibly dragging them away.
Some monsters’ flesh circled round, creeping ever closer to Chu Zao, or rather, to the little black dragon, head in paws, pained and curled in Chu Zao’s bag.
“Is…the Crown Clan okay?”
Desmond finally asked.
They had no idea what happened after their burial.
They didn’t even know they’d become legends, their story remembered for eternity.
Desmond had cried, too, in the end—an old fellow who’d lived who knew how long—wondering, after paying the price, did he help the young ones at all?
Did they accomplish anything?
He knew those young ones were dependable.
So when they faced the source of the pollution, they had no hesitation.
Chu Zao’s honeyed eyes turned red.
Chu Zao tried to answer.
But Desmond read the look and smiled, still ever unruly, yet his touch was gentle as he stroked Chu Zao’s hair and brow.
The time was too short, his look too quick.
With his memory back, Desmond knew where the earlier closeness came from—not just resemblance to himself, but also Clansis, that cold-faced little iceberg.
“But it doesn’t matter. Now’s not the time for details. But at least, seeing you, I know—the Crown Clan’s still here—you’re still here, that means we did alright, right?”
This was wonderful.
Truly, wonderful.
Desmond finally, grandly, as an elder, patted Chu Zao’s soft curls.
“Thank you for coming here, Zao Zao. Amos raised you well.”
Such a cute, smart, beautiful cub.
Amos’s cub was already this age.
If only he could watch them grow.
“But, really, Zao Zao should be thanking you—”
Chu Zao finally spoke.
Desmond chuckled, and the others behind—who now remembered—laughed too.
“You’re different, I can feel it. No need for thanks. Back then, my whole mind was on my cubs, so were the others. Zao Zao, if Amos stood in my place, he’d have chosen the same.”
So—
“If there’s a way out, if there’s anything you can do, be bold and try. Though so much time’s passed, and we haven’t met long, as elders, we’re always your support—”
Desmond and the others, as incarnations of psionic power, were originally weapons, but now had lost the weapons they once wielded.
Desmond sliced off a monster’s shoulder, blood smearing his face, his brilliant eyes tinged with merciless cold.
“We won’t compromise with these things. Not even after losing our memories—”
They were always willing to be that first line of defense—for their cubs, their clan, their new empire.
What they did, what they thought, what they felt—always the same—
If they had no limbs, they’d bite with their mouths.
If there was no body, the soul could still be a blade.