Chapter 25: Amos seems a bit stressed

**Chapter 25: Amos Seems a Little Overwhelmed**

The tiny, childlike voice, the trembling little body, the muffled cries—just small enough to nestle perfectly into Amos’s arms, safely wrapped in his wings.

His heavy wingtips brushed against those soft, ruffled little wings, especially the drooping one that Amos dared not touch. A foreign warmth spread from where their bodies met, traveling from the wingtips down his spine and straight to his heart—stirring tremors—whether fury or regret.

The cub had tried so hard to be strong for so long, all because of those two words… those two hollow words.

Amos’s heart twisted.

A strange feeling coiled in his chest, leaving him crouched before the child—even in this position, he still towered over the little one. Bending slightly from his height, he carefully avoided the small wings and drew Xiao Chuzao into a tight but careful hug, making sure not to hurt him.

He whispered into the child’s ear.

“It’s Daddy’s fault.”

Xiao Chuzao buried himself in Amos’s arms.

Amos had rushed here.

In truth, it had all happened in barely a day.

He still carried the frosty air of Saint Cas, mingled with a whisper of gunpowder and blood.

It wasn’t exactly comforting, especially for Chu Zao.

Though he had lived alone for only five years, Xiao Chuzao had faced far too much on his own, developing countless survival instincts.

That smell meant danger.

In the past, the cub would have bolted at the first hint of it.

But this time was different. Amidst that scent, Xiao Chuzao felt a strange comfort.

Tears spilled uncontrollably—fat and heavy—in the warmth of that moment. His numb, aching wings no longer had the strength to move.

Did Zao Zao do the right thing?

Did Zao Zao do well?

Zao Zao likes it here—Zao Zao likes… Zao Zao likes Daddy.

Xiao Chuzao heard Amos’s voice, gentle, as if cradling something fragile. He felt himself being carefully lifted, tested for balance before being held securely.

“Zao Zao is very strong, but even the strong can cry—I need to set a few things straight.”

The Emperor of the Saint Cas Empire spoke like delivering an imperial edict, addressing the child now cradled in his arms.

“First, as your father, I failed to protect you properly. That was my failure, not yours.

Second, because I’ve never raised a child before, I gambled, treating you like a recruit, which led to your pain… and mine. That, too, was my mistake.

Third, letting you hear those hollow words of mine was also my fault. It made you anxious, made you think you had to tough it out and be strong at five years old. That is not right.”

Xiao Chuzao folded his little wings, sitting in his father’s arms, his clear, large eyes brimming with tears.

His delicate little face looked soft, beautiful, and utterly harmless, his nose red from rubbing as he tilted his head up to gaze at him.

“I hope Zao Zao can give me a chance to make things right.”

Amos held the cub who had been out of his sight for most of the day and nearly met with disaster, speaking softly.

Weather the storm?

Amos had spent most of the day confirming one thing—he might truly go mad, even without his psychic powers descending into full instability.

“So, it’s okay to cry.”

He lowered his gaze; a faint tenderness flickered in his eyes.

The more he spoke, the harder it became for the already overwhelmed cub to hold back his tears.

Little Chuzao seemed like any other child now, sobbing as he clung to Amos’s neck.

This time, his cries were less stifled, still filled with hurt and fear.

“Grandpa Mei Lun… sob… Grandpa Mei Lun… he hasn’t woken up. Grandpa Mei Lun is so cold. Zao Zao is scared…”

“I’m here now.”

Amos’s voice carried reassurance.

The cub was completely worn out. The halo above his head remained golden but had visibly faded.

As he cried, his eyelids gradually drooped.

He heard what sounded like a sigh near his ear.

“Sleep, Zao Zao.”

Hnn…

The cub wasn’t sure if he responded. Wrapped in familiar warmth, and with his parent arriving in time, the overwhelmed cub quickly relaxed and drifted off to sleep.

His little face gradually settled into peaceful slumber. Amos had not only grown familiar with Xiao Chuzao’s appearance through videos but had also caught glimpses of his memories during their earlier Psychic Crown collision.

Amos lifted his gaze, scanning the surroundings.

The mining guard squad finally registered his presence—they recognized Amos.

Wen Qingfeng and Wen Qingyu shook visibly.

They had just learned that Chu Zao was the young prince of the Crown Clan, but now—Chu Zao was Amos’s cub? Making him the heir?

Before they could process it fully, their bodies had already reacted with excitement, and they dropped into bows.

“Your Majesty! The No. 78 Mining Guard Squad of Saint Cas’s mineral planet reports to you! The mining protection mission is complete. All glory to the Crown!”

Amos’s crown halo hovered quietly above his head, its cracked edges gleaming deeply, like the crown of an ancient kingdom. Untouched by their zeal, he remained as composed and calm as ever.

“You have guarded the hope of my Crown Clan. You will be honored.”

Behind him came the sound of the empire’s military forces arriving.

The Saint Cas Empire’s army, though slower than Amos, had landed in perfect formation, rounding up the thieves and beginning debriefing with the mining guard squad.

Though Amos had no intention of concealing Chu Zao’s identity, the conspicuous nature of the Crown Clan meant it hadn’t been publicly disclosed. The Ninth Army only knew of Prince Mei Lun’s disappearance, unaware of Xiao Chuzao’s existence.

Until Amos pierced the atmosphere, moving with rare urgency, cradling protectively a small life for the first time.

The little one let his snow-white wings droop, his faint golden halo barely visible...

So they'd come looking for a Little Crown Clan member... Wait, no—hold on, what? A Little Crown Clan???

Amos arranged for someone to retrieve Mei Lun.

He himself turned and walked away, holding the small child in his arms.

Although they had arrived in haste this time, the entire Ninth Army had mobilized, with all starships outfitted with top-tier configurations, including medical equipment.

Xiao Chuzao was covered in injuries, wearing oversized clothes that hung loosely. His wings hadn’t suffered the worst-case scenario Amos had feared—merely dislocated, along with some cuts.

These wounds weren't severe and would heal quickly with basic treatment. But that was secondary. The priority was determining what had happened to the child—Mei Lun's halo ought to have been shattered, yet it had been brought back intact. Aside from several wounds deep enough to reveal bone, Mei Lun’s overall condition was remarkable for a Crown Clan member, given their formidable regenerative abilities.

But the child’s halo had visibly faded.

The psychic scan showed no immediate issues, yet Amos remained uneasy.

Outside the medical room.

Several military medics observed cautiously from inside.

It was an unimaginable sight—a five-year-old curled up tightly in Amos’s embrace, fast asleep, small hands gripping a corner of Amos’s coat, wrinkling the fabric.

Yet their typically stern and distant Emperor, who even seemed aloof toward other Crown Clan members, showed no sign of annoyance. Instead, he lowered his head, gently smoothing the little one’s feathers one by one.

—Much like an adult bird doubting its fledgling’s preening skills, taking advantage of the chick’s slumber to meticulously tidy the feathers the inexperienced youngster could never manage.

The moment was almost unbearably tender.

"Your Majesty."

Ye Ming, commander of the Ninth Army, strode forward and halted before Amos, saluting crisply. But soon, at Amos’s gesture, he lowered his voice.

"We’ve confirmed which thieves’ faction they belong to—the Falcon Thieves, often disrupted but whose leader remained elusive, Falcon. Should we continue searching this star sector?"

Ye Ming couldn’t help but study the small child in Amos’s arms with cautious curiosity.

This was a scenario beyond his imagination.

Before he could dwell further, Amos’s unusually calm voice, tinged with threat, cut him off.

"Search."

Ye Ming looked up, startled.

The Emperor and the Crown Clan’s princes always consciously restrained their emotions. Throughout Amos’s reign, his subordinates had known him as composed and steady.

But anyone seeing Amos now—his terrifying gaze, the crown appearing through anger—would never associate those words with him again.

Whether it was the Hymn Organization targeting the Longlived race or the Falcon Thieves deliberately provoking Saint Cas, both were undoubtedly now on the Crown Clan’s kill list. And according to his intel, the princes who had failed to intercept the Hymn Organization were already en route.

Ye Ming understood—this was total retaliation: "Yes, sir!"

*

By the time Xiao Chuzao awoke, night had fallen on Saint Cas’s 78th mineral planet.

The entire Ninth Army fleet lurked in silent readiness beyond the planet.

The room was dark and quiet.

Little Chuzao blinked drowsily.

He’d just woken up, still a little out of it.

He’d been sleeping on his belly, tiny wings splayed out.

Earlier, his parent had painstakingly straightened his wings, smoothing each feather one by one. With them neatly spread across his back, he’d slept like that—until now. When he woke up, his wings had fallen asleep.

Little Chuzao couldn’t feel his wings at all.

He blinked again.

Huh?

Where’d Zao Zao’s wings go?

Zao Zao’s wings got hurt before—why can’t he feel ’em now?

And where am I?

The little guy freaked out for a second, and the halo that had gone completely dim while he was asleep suddenly lit up.

The soft little tyke reached up and yanked off his halo, holding it behind him like a flashlight to check his wings.

The rustling instantly woke Amos, who was sitting not far from Chu Zao.

Turns out, the little one hadn’t woken up that night at all.

Worn out, he’d slept straight through the next day and into the evening after a full checkup confirmed everything was okay.

All day long, squad after squad from the 9th Army had been searching for traces of the Thieves’ Falcon faction, raiding multiple hideouts—though they still hadn’t pinpointed the leader’s location.

Frey and An Ya had swung by, checked on the kid, then rushed off to handle their missions.

Amos hadn’t budged. For two whole days, he’d stayed in the room with the little one and Mei Lun, who lay on the medical bed behind him.

He’d pulled an all-nighter tackling paperwork, nerves stretched tight. Only after that did his tension gradually ease, letting him catch a short nap.

Luckily, Little Chuzao had come out of it okay—just some nightmares that slowly faded away. Thanks to the quick response, there were no lasting issues.

But Amos? His mental energy had gone haywire at one point.

Hearing the noise, Amos opened his eyes and saw the tiny figure clutching his crown-like halo, using it as a flashlight to examine his wings. Then, seemingly puzzled by what he saw, the little one tilted his head, studying his small halo.

—Amos nearly had a heart attack when he saw it.

Who the heck taught you to use your halo as a flashlight?! And take it off?!

Amos exhaled sharply and turned on the light.

The kid, still clutching his halo, blinked and lifted it—his gaze snapping toward Amos. He tensed for a moment, then relaxed, calling out softly: “Papa!”

Not the fluffy white ball of cuteness, but a rosy-cheeked, curly-haired Crown Clan toddler.

His tiny arms and legs, next to a full-grown Crown Clan’s, were downright pocket-sized and adorable.

His stubby arms stuck out from the oversized sleeves—the outfit clearly didn’t fit. It was made from Amos’s military shirt, modified slightly. The sleeves that fit Amos perfectly flapped loosely around the little guy’s arms, wide and long.

Amos gave the halo in the kid’s hands one last look before standing up and walking over, leaning down to gather him up effortlessly.

"What are you looking at?"

"My wings are tingly," Xiao Chuzao murmured in a soft, babyish voice, staring at his tiny halo. "I wanted to take a closer look, but the halo here seems a little different."

What?

Amos followed the cub’s pointing finger.

The *brain*—so crucial to the Crown Clan—was being held in the little cub’s hands, and Amos felt a twinge of pain. He hadn’t looked closely earlier.

The cub’s crown halo was also small. Originally a brilliant golden ring, a tiny spot had dulled, its color off. Yet it still didn’t match the normal hue of a Crown Clan’s halo. The bright gold now bore a patch of dark gold, hard to spot unless you looked close.

The crown halo was a vital symbol for the Crown Clan.

Amos wasn’t taking any chances and immediately called for the military doctor to examine the cub again.

But the readings still showed no issues.

After the doctor left, Amos paused, deep in thought, watching the cub play with the halo.

Xiao Chuzao pondered.

His eyes sparkled suddenly.

He reached out—scrubbing at the discolored patch on the halo with his fingers.

Amos’s heart nearly stopped: !!!!

Amos finally couldn’t hold back and caught the cub’s wrist.

Xiao Chuzao blinked up at him in confusion, his honey-colored round eyes wide. "Dada?"

"That’s enough."

*Stop rubbing your brain.*

Amos pulled the cub into a hug.

Still holding the little one’s hand, he guided the golden halo to hover once more above the cub’s head.

"We’ll run more tests when we get home."

Cuddled in his arms, Xiao Chuzao fell quiet for a moment.

Home?

The little angel, quick to bounce back after naps, paused, stunned.

Oh, right. He had a family now.

"Then… how’s Grandpa Mei Lun doing?"

The cub fidgeted before finally asking.

The little one had total trust in his daddy. The moment he confirmed Amos was there, he stopped fretting over the others—but Mei Lun was different. Mei Lun had looked half-dead earlier.

Xiao Chuzao hadn’t dared to ask.

Only after carefully studying Amos’s expression did he softly murmur the question.

Amos scooped up the little one and stood.

He walked over to the medical bed at the back.

Mei Lun lay quietly inside, his face looking a little pale.

"Grandpa Mei Lun—"

Little Chuzao called out softly, bending down and pressing his tiny hands against the transparent panel of the medical bed, blinking his big eyes as he peered inside.

"He's fine. His injuries are mostly healed, his halo isn't shattered, and his mental energy is stable enough. It's just that his mental response is a bit sluggish, so he hasn't woken up yet—but it won't be long now."

You could say—Mei Lun was the little cub’s miracle.

"Really?"

The little one didn’t lift his head, still pressed against the transparent panel as he watched Mei Lun.

"Really."

"..."

The cub stayed silent for a long time before Amos heard a tiny, shaky sob—like delayed relief.

"That’s great."

Amos hesitated. He’d meant to ask Little Chuzao what he had done when Mei Lun’s crown shattered, but now, holding the cub close and seeing the tears welling in his eyes, now wasn’t the time for questions like that.

Amos raised his hand, gently wiping Chuzao’s teary eyes—back when the little one was just a ball of fluff, he hadn’t needed to be so cautious. But now, in human form and still recovering, his skin was way too delicate.

The lightest touch from Amos left a red mark—it stood out painfully.

The little guy’s mood dipped again.

Then his tiny stomach growled loudly.

Xiao Chuzao blinked, meeting Amos’s gaze, his face turning red as he wrapped his arms around Amos’s neck and buried his head against his shoulder, hiding from Amos’s view.

The little one clung to him.

His breath brushed against Amos’s cheek—warm and gentle.

The cub—

Amos kept his cool, but in Xiao Chuzao’s embrace, his tension slowly melted away.

He thought he was beginning to understand why the Crown Clan of the past had been so fixated on their young.

A Crown Clan without cubs was fierce and ruthless—but that was all they were. Without restraint, without boundaries, their future stretched on, empty of hope.

Amos grabbed the cub formula from the warmer.

Little Chuzao kept his head down, and it wasn’t until Amos sat on the couch that he finally wriggled up, clutching the bottle to drink.

But this time, Amos held on.

"Daddy?"

Little Chuzao clutched the bottle, watching Amos’s hand with a puzzled look.

But Amos was oddly insistent.

"I'll feed you."

But...I can drink by myself.

Amos deliberately emphasized, "You don’t need to rush being independent yet."

The little one blinked and obediently drank the formula.

He sat in Amos's lap, his small hands still wrapped around the bottle, while Amos cupped the bottom with one large hand.

He watched as Xiao Chuzao drank eagerly, his thick lashes fluttering as he sucked, his big eyes focused intently on Amos’s hand.

Amos hesitated slightly.

Though he wanted to tell Chu Zao about this, had he sounded too bossy just now? Had he been too absolute?

Before he could overthink it, the little cub licked his lips, relishing the sweet taste of the formula, then exclaimed in surprise, "Daddy, your hand’s way bigger than mine!"

He held up his hand, comparing it to Amos’s.

His pale little hand still had healing scrapes, but it was so tiny—it didn’t even fill Amos’s palm.

Warm and soft, it nestled into Amos’s before being gently enclosed.

His fingers wiggled playfully for a moment, his head tilted, then he looked up with a gummy little smile. "Daddy, your one hand can completely cover mine!"

It dawned on him—adults really did have huge hands.

What a tough little guy he was.

His hands were still hurt, and he’d almost cried when he saw Mei Lun earlier, yet he quickly smiled again—he didn’t have to be that strong at his age.

Amos’s chest ached with tenderness.

A soft knock sounded at the door.

An Ya and Frey stood at the entrance, stunned by the sweet sight of father and child inside.

"Amos."

"Second Brother."

They entered, unable to resist glancing at Chu Zao’s tiny hand still held in Amos’s grasp.

—That tiny?

The round-faced toddler blinked up at them with wide eyes.

"We’ve located another one of their gathering points. It shouldn’t be far from their main base now."

Frey spoke first, his voice businesslike.

"Sire, there is something I need to discuss with you privately."

Amos gave a slight nod, releasing Little Chuzao's hand as he stood.

Amos and Frey stepped just outside the door.

The medical room door remained open, and from the sofa, the little cub peeked his head out curiously.

An Ya stood by the entrance while Amos and Frey didn’t go far—Amos’ gaze never strayed far from inside the room.

This feeling—

Frey couldn’t pin it down exactly.

He always felt the little cub seemed fine, but Amos looked wound too tight.

"Sire, your mental energy has been at dangerous levels since last night. You need to calm down and release it properly—don’t let emotional fluctuations damage the Crown Halo."

Before Amos could speak, Frey added, "We’re at the heart of the 9th Army’s flagship. Before your return, neither An Ya nor I will leave. He’s already owned up to his mistake. Losing the clan’s treasured cub was our arrogance speaking, but we’ll ensure this place is secure. Your psychic energy might also affect Zao Zao."

Amos’ eyes flickered.

"I understand."

He returned to the medical room.

Kneeling in front of Little Chuzao, he said,

"Dad’s gotta step out for a bit—just four or five hours—to take care of something. Zao Zao, stay here with your uncles, okay?"

Little Chuzao hesitated, glancing at An Ya, his tiny wings sagging slightly, showing reluctance.

But then he saw how seriously Frey had pulled Amos aside—it must be important.

Finally, he nodded. "Okay."

Only then did Amos stand, bottling up his seething rage, ready to unleash it on those reckless fools—make it quick.

Little Chuzao tilted his head up, staring at Frey and An Ya, eyes wide.

Truthfully, he barely knew them yet, so the cub still seemed shy.

An Ya hesitated, words caught in his throat. The cub’s eyes flicked toward him before quickly looking away.

After the cub’s disappearance and Mei Lun’s unexpected survival, An Ya had admitted that perhaps there truly was some scheme at play. But Chu Zao was, without question, a miracle unlike any other for their Crown Clan.

He crouched down.

It looked like an attempt at apology, but he was never good with soft words. All sounds stuck behind clenched teeth, leaving his face grim.

Frey watched from behind, lips twitching, fighting the urge to shove him aside.

If you can’t say it, don’t bother. Can’t you see the kid’s nervous?

Indeed, Little Chuzao was tense, watching An Ya approach warily.

The cub had no idea what he was up to.

His small hands lifted slightly, edging backward.

He was about to say something.

An Ya, watching that tiny hand from the other side, recalled the scene he had seen when he first walked in.

Are hands really this small?

Without thinking, he instinctively clenched his fist and playfully tapped Chu Zao's little hand.

"I..."

Zao Zao: What the...?

An Ya froze. His words caught in his throat.

Because after being touched, Chu Zao swiftly removed his halo with his other hand and slammed it down on the back of An Ya’s hand. Before An Ya could react, he scampered to the other side of the sofa.

The whole move was smooth as silk.

Still keeping an eye on him, he raised his little halo: Don’t mess with Zao Zao!

Watching An Ya’s entire demeanor instantly deflate, Frey sneered: Serves you right.