Chapter 84: Zao Chewed It, It’s Crispy

Chapter 84 Chuzao Nibbled, Crispy

It wasn’t a big deal to begin with.

But paired with the little one’s earnest, serious expression as he explained—the adorable hilarity instantly shot up a notch.

Some stifled their laughter, while others, like Finn, outright burst out laughing.

Feeling teased, the little one, still with the candy Amos had stuffed into his mouth earlier, had his small crown now floated to his head. His attention had been completely stolen by the large birds earlier, but now he finally stopped bothering Lynn and Amos.

The psychic threads coiled around the crown loosened and dissipated. Xiao Chuzao clambered up and waddled over to Amos.

Amos looked down at his little one—cheeks flushed, the medicine slowly taking effect but clearly still dazed.

The little guy puffed up his cheeks like a pufferfish, looking both sulky and pitiable, before reaching out to hug Amos’s leg.

—Mocked and upset, he came running back to his guardian.

Amos hesitated, the smile that had been tugging at his lips fading. He reached out, ruffling the little one’s fluffy head before turning to glare at Finn.

His glare said it all—Stop laughing.

Finn managed to swallow his laughter in the end.

Only Ayala, pushed to the very edge of the group, had a conflicted look.

Amos’s attitude was something Ayala didn’t understand.

Besides, as a member of the Crown Clan—even if just a Crown Clan child—shouldn’t he at least not start crying after just one shot of medicine?

Ayala stood in the corner, staring for a long time at the tiny figure now nestled in Amos’s arms.

His gaze fell on the discarded syringe—Ah, well. The little one was sick, after all. Some things could be excused. Maybe once the fever passed, he’d be better?

The same Ayala who had earlier written the kid off as a nuisance outside now failed to notice the shift in his own attitude.

A Saint Cas soldier saluted at the door before addressing Amos.

"Your Majesty, Holy Grail Tribe Chieftain Cavenough requests to see you."

*

The Grail Clan crew Finn had brought back had been urgently transferred to the medical center starship dispatched by Saint Cas.

Those aboard this starship were the worst cases.

Most were isolated separately.

As for Derek meeting Cavenough, the medical center had made thorough preparations for this moment.

Amos carried the whimpering little "feverish fireball" in his arms, followed by Finn, An Ya, and Ayala, with Lynn lagging behind as they walked down the corridor and entered a room filled with the beeping of medical instruments.

Xiao Chuzao had a fresh damp towel placed on his forehead. The shot had lowered his temperature somewhat, but it was still abnormally high. Every now and then, the little one would turn and tug at his small wings, ruffling his snowy-white wings Amos meticulously groomed every day.

His curly hair was also a mess, giving the little one an overall disheveled, slightly puffed-up look.

Then came the sound of Derek’s hoarse, tearful sobs—sniffling and occasionally breaking into coughing fits.

Xiao Chuzao, who had been clinging to Amos’s neck, seemed to realize something and turned to look. His honey-colored eyes blinked slowly as the feverish, slightly dazed little one wondered.

So this person cried even louder than he did?

Zao Zao wanted to compete with him—

"Zao Zao's the loudest crier."

Amos spoke very calmly, accurately predicting what was going through his little one's mind at that moment, shutting down the cub's train of thought completely.

Of course, for Amos, who had previously been drowned by the cub's constant chatter until his head was buzzing, this was also the truth.

The cub paused—though something about this statement felt a bit off.

But since Papa said so.

Must be a good thing then.

After pondering, the cub nestled back into Amos's arms, clinging to him like sticky rice cake (and just as hard to peel off)—refusing to let go at all.

On the sickbed—Holy Grail Tribe Chieftain Cavenaugh lifted his gaze, looking distantly at Amos standing at the doorway.

The pallor of death hanging over him seemed to grow heavier. He exhaled slowly, whispering, the Holy Grail cradled against his chest growing cloudier: "Amos... Your Majesty."

"Your Majesty."

The nearby medics bowed.

"He was brought in too late. The progression of young Chieftain Cavenaugh's condition was too rapid. Even with the use of mental blockers to halt the process, it couldn't be stopped."

Amos nodded slightly, his expression unreadable.

Holding Xiao Chuzao in his arms, he approached the sickbed.

He gazed down impassively at Cavenaugh.

Cavenaugh was actually much older than Amos—only, he had his own cub very late, and time barely touched their long-lived kind.

Unlike the Crown Clan, the Grail Clan could be considered quite fortunate, having kept their peace for centuries.

Cavenaugh smiled weakly. "I thought... if I could make the right choice for the future, I could live in peace for a lifetime. But in the end, they still managed to develop a method against us over these centuries. Those fiends succeeded in the end."

"Retreat only emboldens the 'hyenas' who chase after the scent without hesitation. It's useless—they'll keep pushing forward relentlessly."

Amos simply watched Cavenaugh.

Shadows darkened Amos's face.

Against corruption, against monsters, against fate—

Only one answer remained: fight.

But for those who did not share the same ideals, the Crown Clan had never wasted words—there was no point in speaking further.

In his arms, Xiao Chuzao also blinked, instinctively looked down.

The soft-spoken cub piped up, his small wings flapping gently behind him. "Zao Zao knows this too."

Cavenaugh turned his gaze to Xiao Chuzao, pausing slightly.

This was an adorable, delicate Little Crown Clan cub, carefully nurtured. Yet, as he looked at him, for a sensitive race like the Grail Clan, he could also sense the mounting pressure.

The Crown Clan... truly something else.

"Yes... It's just a pity that we only witnessed the decline of the Spirit Eye Clan and realized this truth far too late—"

Cavenaugh struggled to prop himself up. As he moved, part of the Holy Grail at his chest began to dissipate like ashes, and his entire body seemed on the verge of shattering, covered in countless bloody streaks.

"Papa! Papa!"

Derek, his eyes puffy from sobbing, trembled all over, trying to get Cavenaugh to lie back down.

But this time, the normally doting Holy Grail Clan Chieftain did not respond to Derek. He simply looked at Amos.

"Every Longlived race possesses some unique, lesser-known abilities—some inherited through the chieftain's bloodline, others granted by their habitat—"

Take the Crown Clan, for example. Born from their habitat, their psychic energy is formidable, and their physical prowess is unmatched. No one in the entire galaxy could wipe them out—except for one weakness—their habitat. Every Crown Clan member originates from it, their psychic energy tied directly to it.

Before the corruption, no one could harm the Crown Clan's habitat. But when it fell, their psychic power followed the same path to ruin.

What else is hidden in the Crown Clan’s habitat? Outsiders, of course, do not know—maybe even most Crown Clan members don’t.

"This ability was never meant to be shared."

Cavenaugh coughed weakly.

"I meant to take this secret to my grave—but the Grail Clan has suffered a fatal blow. I can’t protect them anymore. If you’ll allow it, I’ll trade this—to ask the Saint Cas Empire for aid in halting the plague's progression for those of my clan who still can be saved. The bloodline of the Holy Grail Clan Chieftain allows one, in their final moments, to serve as a successor, showing paths and choices that must be avoided..."

The future splits based on your choices and judgments—it is not fixed, and each outcome differs.

Cavenaugh searched Amos's face for even a flicker of interest.

After all, at the cost of his own dissipating psychic power, eliminating many erroneous options for future actions—though only in the form of vague, directional glimpses—would be priceless to many.

But there was none.

Amos didn’t react. The Crown Clan members behind him showed only mild surprise, nothing more.

"These things hold no use for us."

Amos spoke calmly.

The Crown Clan spurns fate, scorns destiny, and naturally does not believe in a future shaped by guided choices.

"So we won’t take deals or favors from you. But—the annihilation of the Longlived races is what the Hymn Organization desires. I will stop it."

Cavenaugh hesitated.

"That is enough. Not a favor, nor anything else—just a small gesture from the Grail Clan, hoping to provide some small... assistance, in light of past mistakes."

Right then, Cavenaugh’s energy burst forward, rushing toward Amos as the Holy Grail continued to fade.

Amos didn’t flinch. He merely reached out and placed the little one by the bedside.

Little Chuzao blinked up at him and clung to Amos’s leg.

Unlike before, when he’d connected with the child, where he had glimpsed fragments of Xiao Chuzao's past, this was different.

The visions multiplied—chaotic, splitting into endless paths—scenes of critical choices among them.

Unseen faces blurred—some futures downright absurd.

Like the Crown Clan giving up—dooming the whole galaxy.

Such a wide variety.

Amos received a flood of predictions all at once, momentarily overwhelmed before quickly organizing his thoughts.

These were all thoughts and images transmitted through mental energy. As Amos processed them, time seemed to slow, but given the strength of his mental power, it took only a few moments for him to sift through the chaotic visions.

None of the outcomes were good—after all, it was obvious. The corruption had already spread this far, and more advanced Monster Commanders from another star system had emerged. The entire galaxy was likely to face another wave of upheaval soon.

The only viable path was to advance further into the corrupted zone, toward the star system mentioned by the Monster Commander. The overall situation would be far better than being trapped here.

At least the Grail Clan's final mental energy still had some use.

Amos mused—though he couldn’t see beyond this point, at least it confirmed that they could reach the star system deep within the corruption.

That was enough.

Just as Amos was pondering this, another vision suddenly caught his attention.

—It wasn’t a prediction of the future from their current timeline.

But from a slightly earlier point.

As if sensing Amos’ focus, the mental energies of the Grail Clan and the Crown Clan resonated for a moment—displaying those images to Amos with unprecedented clarity.

—It was a vision starting from the moment Amos released his mental energy in the habitat.

Could this even be called a prediction?

Amos wasn’t entirely sure. Or was it something the Longlived race’s mental energy wanted him to see?

His brow furrowed tightly—because in the scenes that followed, the little white fluff was nowhere to be seen.

In these visions, Mei Lun met destruction, Kaman self-destructed, Job and Joshua slept forever—Fei Man ran amok and plunged into the corruption, An Ya and Frey perished silently, and finally, the Saint Cas Empire collapsed. They fought until the very end—

Amos saw himself in a self-destructive frenzy, mindlessly obliterating everything. The future Crown Clan in that timeline took on an even gloomier tone, Saint Cas's crimson banners torn asunder—the future plan had failed, and the wails of grief and hatred rang all too real in Amos’ ears.

If Zao Zao hadn’t appeared—

Amos thought to himself.

Was this the only future the Saint Cas Empire had?

To be honest, Amos never figured out why Xiao Chuzao had suddenly appeared in the habitat for him to find.

And if Zao Zao hadn’t appeared at that moment, if he had grown up in the Angel’s Realm—

Amos’ hand clenched slightly. He didn’t want to imagine what those damned angels might have made of his little one.

Either way, lingering on these visions wasted time.

Just as Amos’ mental power readied to resist and break free from the Grail Clan’s constructed force—

He stiffened, his gaze returning to the future without the little one.

—He saw a somewhat familiar figure.

A young boy with black hair and amber eyes.

Dressed in spotless white robes, a radiant Halo gleaming above his head, his distant eyes mirroring the ruins of the Saint Cas Empire.

He looked flustered, his expression vulnerable and fearful, with his wings drooping meekly.

Amos saw the remaining figures whose faces were unclear pointing at him, calling him "Your Highness" of the Crown Clan.

The young boy, panicked and confused, tried to hide.

—Was that Zao Zao?

Amos froze momentarily.

Zao Zao - raised by the angel tribe?

So, indeed, there must be some way from the Angel's Realm leading here.

Having reached these conclusions,

Amos should have ended it all by now.

But he watched the scenes—the imposing emperor standing where his future self had perished without Zao Zao, silently observing the child he barely recognized.

He saw the little boy shaking his head, murmuring he was an angel, not of the Crown Clan. He watched as they were attacked by beasts, the boy panicking, dodging, fleeing—only to be protected by the Saint Casians.

The protected boy seemed bewildered, as if he had never experienced such treatment before.

Until another figure flew in from the sky, knocking the boy aside while dispatching the beasts.

"Crown Clan? There are no Crown Clan left in this world besides me."

Amos saw Finn emerge from the dissipating dust.

Finn was clearly on the verge of collapse—his aura unstable, his demeanor frenzied. His longbow was aimed at the boy, his voice icy, scornful, and unhinged.

"Much less one so weak—a Crown Clan who still needs protection at this age. Who even knows what lineage you come from—stranger, do you only know how to run? What is your bow for? Decoration? Pick it up, grip it, aim at me!"

On instinct, Amos moved to shield the staggering, bloodied boy—though, of course, his "protection" was merely a strand of spiritual energy, involuntarily projecting into the nameless future scenes provided by the Grail Clan.

Amos stared at Finn's face.

His fists clenched white-knuckled.

This has nothing to do with Zao Zao—

He grew up in that kind of environment. That he managed to raise himself at all shows remarkable resilience—

Amos thought to himself.

"I'm an angel..."

The bewildered boy behind him staggered to his feet, bracing himself against the rubble. His amber eyes mirrored the sky, the banners—and the place where the Crown Clan had fallen.

"My bow... has no power... Why do you say I'm of the Crown Clan? Is there... someone like me here?"

He gave a weak cough, his voice raspy from lack of use, lifeless. He was pale, soft, completely non-threatening. Clutching his bow in a daze, he surveyed the devastation around him. His hair and the tattered banners flapped in unison. Whether from fear or something else, tears welled up and spilled from his eyes.

"Are there... my family here? I... have no family. I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm powerless—why am I crying...?"

He was used to it, wasn't he? Crying alone, growing up alone, fighting to survive in the world's margins. But still...

"Do you know... my family? Ever since I was little—so little—I've always thought... if I could just have family... that would be wonderful—I, Zao Zao... can't find a place to return to."

—Everything was mirrored in Saint Cas's dying sunset light of that future world—all too late.

Zao Zao—

In a daze, Amos seemed to see Xiao Chuzao as a child, curled into a small ball, his tiny wings quivering as he sobbed in the angelic realm.

Back in the medical room, Amos's once-stable psychic energy suddenly surged in violent upheaval.

In an instant, it tore apart the psychic energy Cavenaugh had sent probing toward him.

Amos's eyes flew open.

In that instant, his gaze was terrifying—like a predator enraged by the theft of its cub.

Cavenaugh staggered back for a second before hastily withdrawing his psychic energy.

His Psychic Holy Grail cracked, then shattered.

He paused, then looked at Amos again.

"It seems... King Amos has found what he sought?"

"Second Brother?"

Finn, sensing Amos's unusual state, instinctively tensed. As the second strongest of the Crown Clan, he cautiously leaned in and whispered to Amos, trying to gauge his condition.

Amos turned to look at him—

That look—how to even describe it?

Finn shuddered, his mind racing—Had Amos not gotten over it after beating him earlier?

Was Amos still pissed enough to rip his head off?

Finn flinched back.

All of this unfolded in a heartbeat for them.

Amos, still lost in those visions, closed his eyes to briefly collect his thoughts.

Xiao Chuzao, pressed against Amos, blinked his wide eyes and looked away.

Cavenaugh's strength gave out.

His hand gripping the Grail slipped—his Psychic Holy Grail had fulfilled its final duty—consuming his life force to deliver another person the myriad possibilities of the future.

Cavenaugh gazed at his child, who had broken down in tears.

"Derek."

He spoke softly, bidding Derek farewell.

"You lead the Grail Clan now. No more childhood. You must shoulder the responsibilities that come with your role—don’t cry. It’s alright. Father knows you can do it. A father knows his son. For the sake of the clan, even when you must make the same choice as I did... The whole Grail Clan must live by this. This is my final... order. As your father. As your leader."

"Dad... Dad..."

Cavenaugh could no longer speak. His Grail hand slipped, lifeless, to the bed.

Nearby, Derek was crying so hard he was on the verge of collapsing.

Xiao Chuzao glanced around, still feverish and dazed, his mind wasn't working right.

He stared at the fading Holy Grail—right up to Zao Zao's... mouth?

The bewildered cub caught a whiff of something bitter yet fragrant, a weird mix of stinky and sweet—the kind of smell he hated most. He scrunched up his little face, opened his mouth—and chomped down—

Bit it off, then spat it out!

Zao opens, Zao bites, crunchy, Zao spat out.

Have to say, though it smelled awful—the texture was crispy.

The little cub, who just wanted to cling to his daddy and not leave, acted all on instinct. That was his reasoning.

So amid Derek's wails, everyone heard a series of crunch-crunch sounds.

Amos instantly opened his eyes and looked down, locking eyes with his dazed little cub—who was spitting something out—judging by the shape, it seemed to be the Grail Clan's... Psychic Holy Grail?

Oh, the Grail Clan's Psychic Holy Grail...

Wait—WHAT THE—?!

Cavenaugh, barely clinging to life, dragged himself up in horror to look over.

Amos: ...?

An Ya and Finn behind him sprang into action, rushing forward—also horrified.

"Zao Zao, don’t go eating weird stuff!!"

Why does this kid bite everything when he's sick???

"Zao Zao not eating bad things."

The little cub, caught red-handed, froze momentarily, the halo above his head flashing anxiously like a guilty child. He clung to Amos, his tiny wings clamped shut.

"Zao Zao, Zao Zao spit out."

He looked up, tugging at Amos's military uniform.

His adorable, youthful face, still baby-soft, already held courage and the innocence and liveliness befitting a child his age.

"Dada, Zao Zao not eating bad things—"

Xiao Chuzao said earnestly, but Amos's expression seemed—subtly hard to read?

Xiao Chuzao couldn’t quite describe the feeling.

Especially since he still felt unwell, his head foggy.

"Dada?"

He just gazed up at Amos softly, full of trust. Despite being sick himself, there was a hint of concern for Amos in his eyes.

Until Amos knelt down, he reached out, and scooped the little cub into his arms.

Amos breathed out heavily.

He buried his face in the cub's neck.

The whole messy, scruffy little fluffball was warm and dazed, his tiny wings fluttering instinctively as he reached out his small hands to hug his dada and pat him. The feverish cub, in a small, earnest voice, mumbled in his defense.

"Zao Zao didn't swallow—and wasn't yummy, just crunchy."