“You have arrived in the Holy Cas star system, and are about to reach the Holy Cas transfer point. Proceeding to Holy Cas Imperial Star, please abide by Holy Cas laws, respect the Crown Clan, the ruling species of Holy Cas, and honor local customs—Special reminder: You are about to arrive at the strongest empire of this star region. Next to Holy Cas Imperial Star is the Crown Clan’s habitat planet. If you are renting a public small starship, do not approach. Reminder again—”
High above Holy Cas.
Starship traffic is bustling.
Nearly two thousand years have passed since the founding of the Holy Cas Empire, and the imperial throne has now been handed down to the third-generation mythic long-lived race, His Majesty Amos Dwight of the Crown Clan.
The Crown Clan produces few offspring, born on their habitat planet, and the people of Holy Cas, after countless tribulations, succeeded in attracting the attention of this formidable species, eventually establishing the strongest known empire in this region of space.
Each generation of the Crown Clan numbers only a few. Apart from ancestors whose lives have ended and have returned to the embrace of the habitat planet, many have already relinquished their responsibilities and may come and go across the stars, only occasionally returning to check in on the Holy Cas Empire.
Precisely because of this, the Crown Clan’s renown only grows.
At present, only five members of the Dwight family from this generation remain on Holy Cas Imperial Star.
A curious thing—despite their tiny population and extremely low cub birthrate, the Dwight line of the Crown Clan—Clansis Dwight’s generation—unexpectedly produced five cubs. Still, clan scholars and medical experts have studied this: the Dwight family’s psionic force is always very strong, and a single individual can trigger the habitat planet to produce a cub. Not to mention that Clansis also has an excellent mate.
Emperor Clansis has now relinquished all duties, successfully passing the throne to Amos over a century ago, and, together with Lady Solan, has been traveling. Now, they are returning.
Passenger and trade ports connecting other locations to Holy Cas Imperial Star are not far from the port where they typically land their personal ship.
Long before disembarking, they can already hear the ships issuing their notifications and reminders.
“Frey, is it just you today?”
They had not taken a formidable warship on this trip, but rather a private starship with a defensive system and focused on comfort.
Solan, unable to wait for the starship’s ramp to fully deploy, nimbly jumped down the ramp.
She looked at the young man waiting outside.
The youth was very tall, silent, and cold.
Upon seeing Solan, he gave a short reply and called out: “Mother.”
“What’s the rush? No one else is going anywhere.”
The ramp finally finished unfolding, and Clansis came down slowly behind them, having missed catching Solan by a step, so he looked slightly annoyed, dusting off imaginary grime from Solan’s clothes.
“We haven’t been back in so long. It feels so familiar all at once—”
They had been traveling for several years, nearly two or three since their last visit to Holy Cas Imperial Star. Though they kept in contact every few days, this trip was rather spontaneous, and they only announced their arrival when they were near.
“Clansis, let’s stay longer this time.”
Solan turned to Clansis.
Clansis nodded casually—
“Just as well, I hear my father and the others are going to be nearby too; we can go greet them—”
“Where’s Amos?”
Clansis finished and looked to Frey.
“Amos is on the habitat planet right now.”
Frey’s face became a little complicated.
The habitat planet?
Clansis checked the time.
“At this hour? What’s he doing over there?”
The Imperial Star of Holy Cas was chosen for its proximity to their habitat planet, which was kept undisturbed.
“There seems to be something wrong with Amos’s psionic force.”
Frey frowned a bit, thinking it over before replying.
“He left us the work. Feeney and Anya are out on assignment—though Feeney appears to have gotten lost again, and hasn’t been heard from—Feiman deployed as backup—”
Or, more accurately, the moment Feiman discovered she was Feeney’s backup, she left without hesitation.
And as for why Feeney was sent out in the first place?
That’s because, even now, someone remains unconvinced, convinced that—for once—he won’t make a mistake!
But given that things always turn out fine, and more often than not they reap unexpected rewards from Feeney’s misdirections, Holy Cas never truly suffers and profits more in the end—so Amos has always tacitly approved Feeney’s wish to try.
So for now, the operation of the royal court—relies on Frey.
Solan: “Amos’s psionic force has a problem? What kind of problem?”
If he were having psionic issues, staying on the habitat planet would make sense.
“He’s probably still young, not fully stable.”
Clansis seized the chance to ridicule Amos.
“What else could it be?”
Clansis thought for a moment.
“Surely it couldn’t be that his psionic force has produced a cub at the habitat planet?”
It’s been more than thirty years since the last Crown Clan cub was born, hasn’t it?
The next generation of Amos’s offspring had been born, too, but with the increasing peace, more Crown Clan traveling the stars, the frequency of cubs appearing on the habitat planet had dropped, for the sake of the species’ stability.
And as for Amos’s cubs?
Just forget it.
Though he did spoil them, he never seemed particularly enthusiastic about children; it seemed impossible for at least the next few centuries.
“Speaking of which, the Soul Clan had a cub of their own a few years back—they’re still searching for ways to stabilize its psionic force.”
Clansis said carelessly.
At this point, relations between the long-lived races were quite good.
The Soul Clan searched for stable psionic environments; the Holy Chalice Clan ran the galaxy’s largest fortune company; the Spirit Eye Race lived in seclusion, apparently training security squads to protect the Allied Front’s peace. As for the other long-lived races, most were busy with their own affairs. The Holy Cas Empire’s situation was actually quite rare.
As Clansis spoke, he looked at Frey, only to see Frey’s expression growing stranger.
“It is the birthplace, in fact—when Amos released his psionic force there to try it, the birthplace caught him up—”
“Haha, so just giving it a try and he got caught by the birthplace—ah… what?”
Solan, stretching her limbs as she walked with Frey, froze mid-laugh, spinning around to stare at Frey alongside Clansis.
“His psionic force was captured by the birthplace?”
The last time a Crown Clan’s psionic force was captured by the birthplace was over thirty years ago.
And that meant one thing.
A new Crown Clan cub was on the way!
Amos’s cub, no less—
“Heavens, it’s Amos’s—”
Even Clansis was flustered.
“Why didn’t you say clearly before? How long has it been?”
Had they known, they would’ve come back sooner!
“It’s been nearly two months. But since the process differed from a normal cub’s birth, we only consulted Dr. Morlo and Teacher Hel in the clan. Neither were sure, so Amos and the others have been observing there; word wasn’t spread to other Crown Clan yet—”
“Go, go, go—forget the royal court!” Solan suddenly stopped, grabbing Clansis and Frey by the arms. “Let’s head for the habitat planet!”
*
Crown Clan Habitat Planet—
The planet is dreamy and wondrous, with all manner of plants and trees, countless orbs of light floating everywhere—the power of the habitat planet and the force of Crown Clan ancestors who have returned to rest here—
The habitat planet coexists with departed Crown Clan.
Under the Source Star’s light, streams flow in the distance, close by are broad and lush green leaves, and now and then a wall of flowers like a waterfall. The air is full of clarity and a pleasing fragrance.
“This psionic force—never seen anything like it. And the glow, so golden.”
In the birthplace, rows of tall, unique trees shelter cavities where light gathers.
From one such hollow, golden brilliance streams forth, pulsing gently, like breathing, like a heartbeat: soft and playful.
Before this hollow, Morlo and Hel stood back a bit, checking equipment data, while Amos stood close, reaching out to touch the warm light.
At first, Amos had only contacted Clansis, Ebinino, Desmond and the others, saying that after centuries he doubted he’d ever have a cub, and probably had no desire to raise one.
He could even agree somewhat.
He did like cubs, as with the batch born decades earlier—cute, yes.
But he was simply too busy to raise a child himself.
He just tried it, and in that instant, his psionic force was caught by the birthplace.
Half a month ago, they confirmed there was a small life within the light.
And it was not quite the same as the other Crown Clan newborns.
Amos was still confused—was it his attitude that made this little one so different from the rest?
A first-time, unprepared father had anxiously kept vigil here for half a month.
Even Feeney, Feiman, and Anya still had no idea what was happening here.
No doubt they’d complain he’d dumped all the work on them.
But with Frey holding things together outside, Amos felt at ease.
“Is he all right?”
“Still too early to say, we need to check once born.”
Morlo shook his head.
“We even consulted the habitat planet. When it captured your psionic force, it accidentally snared a similar force as well, and the little life formed immediately—so it might be a bit unusual; but as he was born at the birthplace, the bloodline must be yours, Your Majesty. This is a new little Dwight. You needn’t worry—the Crown Clan are always strong.”
Moreover—
It seemed the habitat planet had somehow discussed things with someone.
This child is Zao, with what may be the surname of his other half’s power—Chu.
But in Holy Cas, just calling him Zao Dwight is perfectly fine.
Only then did Amos nod.
But the anxiety in his eyes did not fade.
The Black Tyrant who had made Holy Cas infamous across the interstellar, now stared keenly, intently, at the tiny ball of light before him.
“With a little Dwight—” Hel at last adjusted his glasses and spoke in satisfaction, “It seems I’ll have to ready a new set of lesson plans.”
He was already preparing for a naughty, adorable little Dwight.
Amos said nothing.
His communicator beeped.
It was a message from Frey.
“Your Majesty, what’s wrong?”
Amos finished reading, took two steps toward the door.
“Mother and Father are back. Frey told them. They’re already on the habitat planet.”
“Oh, if it’s His Highness Clansis—there is no point in trying to hide this. If he wants to know, he’ll find out soon enough,” Morlo nodded. “And who knows, under such circumstances His Highness Clansis may have other ideas.”
“Why not wait here while I go—”
Hel began, but suddenly broke off.
Morlo, who had just been adjusting equipment, also froze as he looked up.
Both their eyes widened.
Amos hadn’t yet realized anything, only that a small object had landed on his shoulder.
He too paused, feeling a newly formed, exceedingly weak psionic force curiously wrapping around him.
The soft fur on his shoulder brushed Amos’s cheek, and the little one seemed to unfurl its tiny, as-yet-unformed wings—like a baby chick’s, trembling up and down.
Amos turned his head, and saw a tiny white fluff ball with a golden coronet halo atop its head—especially small, the coronet not even the size of his palm, the little white ball even smaller, just the size of a hand, with tiny wings, a fluffy tail, two pink-tipped triangle ears pricking up, and moist honey-colored eyes full of curiosity and innocence.
The way it tilted its head, striving to climb aboard, was imprinted in the deep amber of Amos’s eyes—the child’s eyes were even brighter than his own.
“Oooh… aww~”
A delicate, faint, utterly meaningless sound reached Amos’s ears.
Amos fell completely still, not daring to so much as move.
“B-born already! So easily?”
Morlo was in a complete panic.
They’d thought there had been complications and would need to intervene, never imagining the little one would emerge so easily.
Morlo and Hel watched, stunned, as a tiny paw with pink pads stretched uncertainly out from the ball of light, clutched at empty air, then pulled forth a white fluff ball whose tiny wings flapped valiantly, finally hooking onto Amos’s shoulder.
“Your Majesty, h-he’s slipping—”
Hel stammered, dashing over with Morlo.
The little one, newly born, didn’t have much strength, the little paw handhold sliding, two stubby legs paddling in midair, clutching the parent, little wings forgotten, helpless, mewling cutely.
Finally, a big hand supported the baby ball.
Amos was still dazed, staring at the little white puff; behind him, the radiance began to dissipate, and soon the birthplace was peaceful again.
Only Amos holding a tiny cub, who flapped his wings in his palm, content to grip Amos’s thumb, gazing up with round little face, cooing and chirping—
So fragile, and so sudden.
Amos had never handled a cub of this age, he froze, not daring to hold, nor to move.
He had not the faintest clue what those soft baby noises meant—at this age, cubs had no logic, only coos and chirps.
This little cub was just like that.
But Crown Clan cubs were obviously much cleverer, not entirely clueless.
The little thing howled for ages, head cocked at his parent, wings fluffed, pink paw pads slapping Amos’s hand—
Hungry hungry hungry hungry hungry—
Why wasn’t anyone feeding the baby?
Didn’t they understand the baby?
“Ouwwoo ouwwou—”
At last, Amos realized, and, cradling the little one, angled his body to shield from the wind.
Then he looked nervously toward Hel and Morlo, who, though at his side, were just as hesitant to touch the little one.
“What’s he saying?”
“N-no idea—”
No, the problem wasn’t Zao Zao’s communication; it was just that at this age, all the “ouwwou” noises, though to the cub perfectly clear, were to the parent’s ears nothing but adorable babble.
The little fluffy ball squawked for a long while, and as Amos failed to move, finally got control—
Amos’s arms weighed down.
A tiny, milk-white, large-eyed baby clung to Amos’s chest.
The cub looked up at Amos.
“Iya… iyeh—hun—woo-hung—”
Just born, the baby clung to the parent, blinking wide eyes.
But, urgent to speak.
Amos suddenly understood.
“He’s hungry.”
All kinds of cub supplies, long since prepared in the family spatial ring, finally came in handy.
The quickly-prepared bottle of milk Amos now gently shook—still a little too hot.
The sweet-scented bottle made the little one’s eyes go round, babbling anxiously.
“Awww—aah—”
Want this, want this—
Held by Amos in one arm, the baby reached out, eyes fixed only on the bottle.
“Still a little hot.”
Amos, heart thumping, hadn’t expected the cub would be so forceful; he lowered his cheek to lightly push the baby aside, keeping one hand shaking the bottle to cool it.
But the pushed-back cub didn’t understand what his parent was saying.
He widened his big eyes—a baby not so prone to tears—pouted, and, stubborn, stretched anew, using his paw to push Amos’s face away.
—Give me the bottle, not you.
This made Amos laugh and cry at once.
Once the bottle’s nipple was tucked in his mouth, the little one quieted at last.
Beautiful eyes already closed, both hands hugging the bottle, sucking determinedly.
At this moment, Clansis arrived with Solan and Frey, tracking Amos’s psionic force.
“Amos.”
Clansis glanced around—the birthplace was peaceful, not a ripple of disturbance.
He raised his brow slightly.
“Frey said your psionic force got captured? Something happened?”
Had a cub really been born?
Didn’t look it now.
Clansis mused.
“You’re still young, no need to rush to have a child.”
For all that Clansis and Amos were often at odds as father and son, when it came to cubs, the Crown Clan was always of one mind.
Then Clansis froze.
For Amos, seemingly afraid to move, half turned to look at him. There, perched on his uniform shoulder, on his military epaulet, was a tiny, delicate, brilliantly gold and familiar coronet halo, bouncing up and down with delight.
What was that?
Solan was stunned, Frey’s expression went blank.
Clansis rubbed his eyes—
He looked again, and—
Upon hearing an unfamiliar sound, a tiny hand gripped Amos’s shoulder, and a little bit of head poked around, big eyes blinking curiously this way—awoo?