Amos walked down the corridor.
It was very quiet around him. After the Aberrant Beasts surrounding the Holy Cas Empire had been dealt with, everything returned to blue skies and white clouds, no different from the past.
Although the entire Crown Clan was still mired in despair, at least there were enough tribe members left; everyone’s most important family and friends were all nearby, forming a network that supported each other, ensuring no one was entirely swallowed by despair.
As a result, the atmosphere within the clan was still lighthearted. The pain brought by the crown was hidden by each Crown Clan member, not shown to those they cared about.
This, too, was a large part of why the Crown Clan had always resisted and always looked arrogantly upon those who sought to destroy the power of their people.
At this moment, Amos genuinely couldn’t imagine how he would react if he lost his elder brother, his younger siblings—even Clansis, his mother, and his grandfather.
But Feeney, at this moment, had experienced it all.
Regarding Feeney, who was about to awaken, Amos’s feelings were somewhat complicated.
After all, it’s hard to process—just yesterday, this infuriating younger brother was causing trouble, and now, today, this brother already appears before him battered, having suffered unspeakable hardship.
By Amos’s usual character and initiative, he ought to have been out purging those Aberrant Beasts, then taking the opportunity to see those so-called higher Aberrant Beast Commanders.
But he couldn’t. There was still much for Amos to do on Holy Cas’s capital planet—at least for now.
“Your Highness Amos, His Highness Feeney’s psionic activity has reached its peak. He appears to be dreaming. Please wait a moment longer; he should wake up soon.”
The medical staff at the center saluted Amos.
They gazed at their next Emperor.
“Very well.”
Amos acknowledged, signaling the rest of the medical staff to leave.
Now, only he remained in the infirmary, along with Feeney, who lay in the treatment pod, his brow tightly furrowed.
The wounds on Feeney’s body had already healed.
But his complexion was still a bit pale, and he lay there uneasy, his fingers tightly clenched.
Amos cast his eyes down, watching Feeney. He said no more—a rare display of tenderness from the brutal elder brother who always attracted and then thrashed Feeney, quietly waiting for him to wake.
Meanwhile, Feeney was truly struggling in a nightmare—
It was as though childhood memories relentlessly replayed over his current memory, as if luring him to let down his guard. As his consciousness returned, Feeney tensed, resisting this sensation.
Thus, those gradually sharpening scenes from the past began to collide with the memories he had after all the Crown Clan were wiped out—
Feeney saw himself as a child, his mother cradling him on her lap, humming a tune with a smile, tapping his little head, asking him why he always liked to provoke his brother Amos.
Feeney still remembered his answer—he always pestered them all, but only Amos, who could truly best him, would actually beat him up.
Being so often beaten by Amos, the elders had a fixed image: he torments Amos, Amos beats him up—
And just like that, the warmth of childhood turned to the blazing dusk.
Feeney’s perspective kept changing, until finally all he saw was blood-red. Blood-tears streamed down—
He watched the Empire’s last sunset, saw the fallen scarlet banner, saw one last massive figure shielding the empire before crashing earthward like a mountain, still blocking some of the attacks against Holy Cas—
Amos… Brother——
Brother Amos——
Please, no——
Of the Crown Clan now… it’s only you and me——
Brother Amos, please don’t leave me all alone——
“Crying at your age—”
That was the last thing Amos said to him before closing his eyes.
“Feeney, listen to me, the Crown Clan… will never surrender…”
The Crown Clan, Never Surrender!
Feeney’s eyes snapped open. He was taut all over, his psionic power flowing to his fingertips, the psionic longbow flickering into vague existence—
Someone was beside him—Zao Zao? Where was Zao Zao?
Still physically weak, Feeney forced himself to wake from semiconsciousness. His scarlet eyes were fierce, his reflexes deadly.
Then, Feeney suddenly froze.
His hand was easily pressed back by another, and a long-absent pair of scarlet eyes met his, steady as ever. The familiar face made Feeney think he was still dreaming.
“Feeney.”
Amos spoke first.
“What’s your memory like right now?”
Amos wanted to determine if his foolish younger brother had suddenly inherited all those scars, or if the two timelines of his fool brother had merged at the moment of Holy Cas’s destruction.
But the next second, Amos realized there was no need to ask.
Because Feeney, his eyes wide open, let tears gather and fall in heavy drops onto the infirmary bed without blinking.
His voice was hoarse, full of uncertainty—
“Amos… Brother?”
“Yeah—”
Amos replied.
“Mother and Feiman wanted to come see you, but got called away by Father for an urgent task—they’re sweeping out the Aberrant Beasts. You are still weak, so wait until you’re a bit better before meeting them.”
Amos looked at his bearded younger brother, lips twitching slightly at the corner.
Judging by his appearance, Amos truly suspected that if Feeney met the others immediately, he might get so emotional that he fainted again.
But Amos, as always the familiar, casual powerhouse, didn’t show much emotion.
As if, as long as he was there, Holy Cas was secure—as long as it wasn’t his younger siblings making some fatal mistake, he would always be their, even big brother Frey’s, solidest support.
But that support had once utterly vanished from Feeney’s world.
Feeney had already propped himself up, excitement welling up at the sight of Amos, momentarily setting aside thoughts of Chu Zao—as if every instinct told him: it’s okay, brother Amos is here, everything will find a way, Zao Zao is surely fine too.
“Bro…”
Feeney’s lips trembled as he called out again.
“Mm.”
Amos replied.
“Bro.”
“Mm—”
……
Amos responded again and again, as Feeney called.
This was patience Amos had never shown before.
After a while, Feeney seemed to sense something was wrong and couldn’t help asking.
“Are you really brother Amos? Not a fake?”
By all rights, Amos should have gotten impatient and told him to scram after the second “brother.”
The rarely patient Amos: …?
“Or do you want me to take you for a few rounds in the training arena?”
Amos’s lips quirked in a rather ominous smile.
Ah, that’s it.
Feeney thought.
There’s the real deal!
Then, as he watched Amos, Feeney sighed, abruptly reached out, and hugged him.
Only then did Feeney notice the hot dampness on his face—
At some point, he’d already been streaming with tears.
Feeney gritted his teeth, stifling a sob, clutching tightly to Amos’s uniform.
Too embarrassing.
To be this age, and behaving like this—so humiliating.
But it had been so long since he’d seen his family—
Mother, father, brother, sisters, brothers—all his kin.
For so long—
Were it not for Zao Zao, he couldn’t have held on—
Right, Zao Zao.
His little one—
Feeney suddenly came back to himself, not managing to speak before—
He heard Amos, calm as ever, speak softly into his ear.
“Oh, by the way, thank you for taking care of my cub.”
Feeney, who was about to ask about Zao Zao: …?
What?
*
In the meeting room in the medical center.
Chu Zao was still studying with Hel.
They didn’t know that Feeney had awakened.
And just now, Chu Zao found himself facing a challenging obstacle.
Although Feeney had taught him many basics,
It was only a year, and everything was so turbulent. Chu Zao understood little about many things in the interstellar world; as a child, he had never formally studied.
No angel tribe teacher had ever deigned to look at him.
Thus, Chu Zao’s grasp of Interstellar Language was quite patchy.
Hel found it troublesome as well.
His original course design was basic enough, but he hadn’t expected Chu Zao to know almost nothing at all.
He had to halt midway, adjust the curriculum, slow the pace, and start over once more.
And those survival rules Feeney had taught him for special circumstances were, in the present Holy Cas Empire, clearly far too extreme—change them! Change them!! Change them all!!!
Thinking so, Hel watched Chu Zao again.
Chu Zao was sitting properly, head down, focused on his notebook.
Although there were simulated screens and so on, for first exercises, direct touch accelerated his skills.
Obedient indeed.
Hel quietly quickened his instruction.
He continued to work, yet couldn’t help watching the little one.
Honestly, Hel couldn’t quite comprehend how Chu Zao had grown to his present age, especially so battered.
After every strict moment, Hel started to feel pained.
Now, he was even starting to wonder if he was being too harsh.
After all, they’d always dealt with the likes of Amos and Feeney at this age.
And the standard teaching routine had primed Hel for that for years.
Even if he consciously tried to adjust, sometimes he just couldn’t help his manner toward Chu Zao.
Watching the little one drop his head lower and lower, diligently following Hel’s instructions but saying nothing in protest, Hel’s own head sagged—dear lord, had his own face just looked unbelievably stern?
He hadn’t meant it.
That was just his default mode, his face usually looked like that—
The little one must think he’s angry, right?
He must—he was drooping his head so miserably, even the little curl at the crown of his head looked wilted now.
The picture of dejection.
The more Hel watched, the guiltier he felt.
In his mind, a little Hel thrashed around.
Aaaaahhhhhh—it’s over.
What was he supposed to do now?
If people saw this, they’d think his harsh, old-fashioned style was useless with Chu Zao—what then?!
Would the reputation of the imperial tutor family be ruined?!
Morlo, Morlo—Morlo, where are you? Hurry and come help me explain to this little one that his teacher’s face just naturally looks this way—
Stone-faced, Hel shouted internally, then exhaled deeply and looked at the child again.
His fingertip tapped the table lightly.
“Ahem—” Hel cleared his throat, watching as Chu Zao instantly responded, looking up at him with clear eyes, his own reflection staring back from their depths. “How are you feeling? No need to rush. Take your time with these lessons. Is the pace too fast? Should I slow down? Are there any parts of the curriculum that make you uncomfortable? Tell me.”
Hel sat upright, a bit scholarly and stiff as he pushed up his glasses, then extended his hand toward Chu Zao, almost as if letting out a breath, and said seriously: “Speak up—your teacher will adjust.”
This should work, right?
Hel thought.
But Chu Zao paused—he’d been grappling with some tricky points in interstellar grammar, practically trying to engrave them in his mind.
So when Hel spoke, the little one was dazed for a couple seconds.
He looked at Hel’s outstretched hand; his own small hand nervously wiped his clothes.
This was Zao Zao’s—first teacher he could truly call his own.
But why did teacher seem a little down?
Chu Zao looked at Hel.
Was it because he was slow?
Chu Zao pressed his lips together, finally lifting his hand to take Hel’s.
Caught unguarded by the small hand, Hel himself froze, then looked down at the little one.
“No,”
Hel heard Chu Zao say sincerely.
“I’ve never met a teacher so learned and elegant as you. You are the best teacher I’ve ever had.”
The little one stated earnestly: “Before, none of the teachers I could find were willing to have contact with me. I thought I’d never find anyone to teach me these things in my life. And you’re not strict at all—I can feel that Teacher Hel is thinking in my best interest. Meeting you, Teacher Hel, is an honor.”
As for being strict, the severity and harshness Chu Zao had seen in Angel Realm before was far, far worse than this.
The little one was stingy with himself, but generous and tolerant with those he cared about.
His unvarnished words struck Hel right as he was reflecting on himself.
Hel involuntarily opened his eyes wide.
——You are the best teacher I’ve ever had.
——Meeting you, Teacher Hel, is an honor.
What was this?
What was this?! Were these just two ordinary sentences?
No, this was the ultimate affirmation of his existential worth!!!
And the teachers Chu Zao had before?
To reject a child like this, suppress him, refuse to teach him?
Bastards!!
The gentle Teacher Hel, ever courteous, cursed privately.
Let him get his hands on them!
Hel wanted to say more, but just then, the meeting room door was lightly tapped twice.
Then, the door opened a crack.
Amos stood on the threshold, glancing inside and catching Chu Zao’s gaze.
“Feeney is awake.”
‘Whoosh—’ A sharp sound.
It was the chair loudly scraping backward.
The little one who’d just been sitting there had already jumped up and was running swiftly toward the infirmary.
Leaving only a gust of wind.
And Amos, watching after the little one, plus Hel, obviously left buoyant and light by those few simple words.
Amos took a final look at Hel, who seemed torn between anger and reminiscence, and then closed the door.
Once it was quiet, Hel suddenly sprang to his feet and began drafting a message to Morlo.
Morlo, who was busy clearing Aberrant Beasts in another zone.
‘Amos’s cub is truly the cutest, best cub in the world!’
‘I’m doomed, Morlo… I probably won’t be able to sleep tonight, I have to prep lessons all through the night, look for ways to teach that will suit him better!’
‘My god, I can’t believe I treated him so stiffly. I’m such a wretch—’
Morlo, reading these messages: …?
Gone crazy?
And Amos’s cub?
Cutest, best?
How do all those words go together?
*
In the medical room, Feeney had already gotten up. While Chu Zao had been studying, his basic examination was almost done.
The medical staff were pushing all the equipment out.
That’s when Chu Zao burst in.
Still weak, and breathless from running, he braced himself in the doorway and looked across to the treatment pod, locking eyes with the awakened Feeney.
“Zao Zao.”
Feeney, acting as if nothing was the matter, raised a hand in greeting.
He even seemed to have a ‘toothache.’
He’d run through every possibility—maybe Zao Zao was Frey’s, or Anya’s, or Feiman’s child; he’d even considered he himself might be Zao Zao’s father. What he’d never guessed was that Chu Zao’s temperament would make him Amos’s child.
So docile and adorable, even when scolded only ever pouted and worked harder, then shrank away pitifully in a corner, waiting until Feeney had free time to coax him—was this cute kid really the son of Amos, the ultimate demon king?
Seriously?
Did the instruments malfunction?
Then, seeing tears welling in the little one’s eyes, he rushed over and hugged Feeney.
Moments later, choked sobs drifted over, soft as wind-tossed string.
Though Chu Zao was now safe, the present Holy Cas was completely unfamiliar to him, as were Amos and the others.
All his anxiety threatened to overflow, especially since he’d overheard the medical staff say Feeney’s memories might not be intact—possibly only pain, nothing from after the destruction of Holy Cas.
Chu Zao felt: if Uncle Feeney couldn’t remember the sad things, that would be wonderful. But then—would Zao Zao be forgotten too?
Chu Zao had prepared himself.
But now, sinking into Feeney’s embrace, he clung to him and cried, sobbing hard.
At last, when everything was determined and behind them, what he really wanted to say was——
“Uncle Feeney, you didn’t forget me… that’s so, so good——”
Feeney, flustered, raised his hand and patted Chu Zao’s back a little awkwardly.
“What are you crying for? Didn’t I tell you, no crying allowed——”
Seeing Chu Zao’s reflexive frown, Feeney caught himself and softened a bit.
“Oh, well, I guess in this case, crying’s okay.”
Maybe it’s alright not to become strong so quickly.
He’d been too strict with Chu Zao before.
Time was tight, things too chaotic, and Chu Zao’s condition left him no room to address his issues.
In that situation, the priority was survival.
But it’s different now.
Feeney soothed the little one, looking up at Amos, who was still standing in the doorway, watching them.
Looking closely——
Feeney compared Amos and Chu Zao——
He had to admit——father and son did look very much alike.
It was just a moment of lost control.
Chu Zao wiped away his tears and looked up at Feeney.
“Uncle Feeney.”
His little face crumpled, seeming a bit angry.
“You have to promise me.”
“What?”
Feeney looked at the little one again.
“You can’t do things that make me worry anymore. You said it—we’re family, we have to support each other to the end.”
The little one said seriously.
“Ah… you brat, now you’re bossing even your Uncle Feeney around?”
Feeney curled his finger and knocked Chu Zao on the forehead.
Putting on a fierce front.
Then he laughed softly, and ruffled Chu Zao’s hair.
“Alright——”
Chu Zao heard Feeney’s reply, in a voice lighter than he’d ever heard before.
“I know, I won’t ever do that again.”
The little one finally smiled, nodding.
And Amos, watching for a long while behind them,
Still didn’t quite understand what “being moved” was like.
He only took note——ah, this little one hasn’t even called me father yet?
Amos thought it over. The answer was certain.
Soon, the medical staff came in.
Though Feeney was recovering well, his overall condition was poor; he needed proper care.
Of course, Little Chu Zao had the same problem, maybe even more severe—but since the little one had always had physical issues, he was used to it, so his recovery would be gradual, and for now, his movement wasn’t much affected.
But Feeney was different.
Feeney really should have still been unconscious or half-conscious, but had forced himself to wake with sheer willpower.
He needed more time in the medical pod.
Before long, Chu Zao reluctantly left the infirmary, now feeling much lighter, trailing behind Amos like a little tail and pattering along.
Amos took the little one for some air, letting him look around the medical center and beyond—after all, Chu Zao had never seen the royal court, only a few broken buildings.
Around Amos, the little one still felt a bit awed.
“You don’t have to keep me company.”
Chu Zao said, his little wings fluttering behind him, big bright eyes looking up at Amos.
“At my age, I can manage on my own, and you still have a lot to take care of, right?”
No question about it—Uncle Feeney often told him that His Majesty Amos was always extremely busy.
The little one looked understanding and sensible.
But Amos suddenly stopped in his tracks, turned and faced the little one, and asked unexpectedly, “Is it because, when you were being bullied, I wasn’t there with you?”
What?
Chu Zao’s eyes widened.
He watched as this Crown Clan member, radiating authority, came nearer, bent down, and met his gaze.
“That won’t happen again. I’ll protect Feeney, and protect you.”
Amos said, his hand falling lightly on Chu Zao’s head, then lifting away so as not to pressure him.
Fine, take it slow.
Amos thought.
The warmth of that hand atop his head felt so gentle.
This is… a father’s hand.
Chu Zao suddenly realized. From the moment he awakened until now, Amos had always quietly stood by his side, the strongest shadow at his back. Chu Zao had never known this feeling before, and his eyes brimmed with sudden warmth.
So strange, truly strange; it was as if even his psionic strength wanted to melt into Amos’s, whimpering in grievance.
Under that touch, Chu Zao lowered his head and half-closed his eyes. In a very tiny, almost inaudible voice, he said,
“Father.”