Chapter 106: A Barrier Born from Flesh and Blood on the Ruins

Chapter 106: A Barrier Forged from Flesh and Blood Upon the Ruins

The little one vaguely remembered seeing a similar psychic thread before—when Grandma left, right before he cried himself to sleep.

The psychic thread vanished too quickly, its color too pale to easily spot. The little one hadn’t yet traced its source.

But he soon spotted Ayala’s psychic thread.

Zao Zao's navigation kicked in again.

Well-rested and full of energy, the little one hadn’t retracted his six tiny wings, making him look like a fluffy little ball.

He pointed a small finger in that direction—"Over there, Papa, over there."

Amos carried the little one, with Fei Man following closely behind, heading toward where the child had indicated.

At that moment, Ayala gripped his psychic weapon, with defeated beasts littering the ground. The muscular, imposing Crown Clan member exuded icy menace.

His expression was dark; he looked as cold as ice. Hearing the noise, he looked up and froze momentarily at the sight of the exceptionally fluffy child.

His crown was clearly in poor shape.

But compared to the previous generation of the Crown Clan, he could still tough it out. Instinctively, he turned toward the rift in the barrier where more beasts were crawling out.

They couldn't be here for him, could they?

Ayala thought to himself—

He'd never exactly been warm to the little one. Last time, he’d given him an injection, which made the kid avoid him for ages. Even now, the little one hardly talked to him.

Unlike An Ya.

For all his icy demeanor, Ayala had grown accustomed to solitude, rejecting close relationships with others. In such interactions, he was undeniably a coward.

If Zao Zao showed even the slightest hint of rejection, this guy would back off a hundred paces without hesitation.

Amos landed with the little one in his arms.

The nearly seven-year-old had shot up noticeably over the past year.

If not for how tiny he’d been when first brought here—and given the Crown Clan’s generally tall stature—holding him now would've been a struggle.

Amos thought, looking at his kid with a hint of regret, but he kept holding tight. They touched down beside Ayala.

"Need help?"

Ayala had really made an impression on Xiao Chuzao, and the little one instinctively feared him a little. Still, he stretched out a small hand, his small, gorgeous golden crown glimmering in the dim light of the planet, illuminated only by the accompanying flying devices. He asked in a small voice.

Ayala paused.

He seemed momentarily stunned, taking down another beast with his staff before turning back to Xiao Chuzao after a two-second delay.

The man remained awkward, especially under the watchful eyes of Amos and Fei Man.

He opened his mouth; the words that should've been firm came out hesitant, all his earlier intensity vanished.

"...Not needed."

The little one watched, as Ayala turned back to deal with the beasts. His wide eyes blinked, locked onto Ayala’s crown.

Under the little one’s care, the Crown Clan's overall condition remained fairly stable, with nearly everyone's mental energy in a balanced state.

Ayala was by far the worst off among them.

And like Papa said, this place was dangerous.

The little one, completely shielded by Amos's mental energy, looked at Ayala and then back at Amos.

"Cousin doesn’t seem very honest," the little one said softly to Amos, voice tiny and face earnest and innocent.

"He's clearly in pain."

The Crown Clan’s sharp senses picked up every word.

Ayala stiffened slightly, unable to resist turning his head to look.

Staring at the tiny little one who’d just called him out so bluntly.

Amos ruffled the little one’s hair before turning his gaze to Ayala.

"Ayala."

Amos's voice was steady, carrying the unquestionable authority of someone long accustomed to high status.

"This is a battlefield. Are you a kid too?"

Ayala: "..."

Ayala finally responded in a low voice and stepped forward.

Then he heard the little one continue whispering, "Zao Zao’s a kid, but Zao Zao tells the truth."

Ayala the Dishonest: ...

Fei Man’s icy expression cracked slightly at the little one's words, her lips curling faintly.

Amos set the little one down.

His mental energy flared out, instantly cloaking the immediate area.

Letting his little one roam safely inside.

He watched as the little one circled Ayala twice, rising on his toes and stretching out a tiny hand.

This time, the little one remembered his wings—his small wings fluttered, lifting him slightly. But these polluted planets had no normal life—just alien beasts. Everything was washed in bleak grays, whites, and blacks.

Fine dust coated the ground; a distant barrier loomed, and the small winged lighting devices hovering nearby occasionally emitted crackling sounds of malfunction. Tiny moth-like bots with 'flashlights' sputtered and dropped as they were damaged, only to be quickly replaced by new ones dispatched from the mothership.

When the little one took off, dust kicked up—especially with all six wings beating—

The little one had to land, then turned to check his wings—

With four wings, Zao Zao hadn’t paid much attention, but now with six, each feather preened by Amos until they gleamed, neat and beautiful, even Xiao Chuzao had to admire them.

The little one swiped at the dust with tiny hands to disperse it, then waved Ayala over.

"Cousin, squat down."

Ayala finally crouched down cooperatively, looking at the tiny cub before him, his eyes shifting awkwardly as he lowered his head.

At this moment, the presence, usually so beastly, seemed strangely soft and unsure.

It was as if he had encountered a cub who had jumped onto his head to tug at his fur, poking at his sore spots, yet he still had to be careful not to let the cub fall.

This feeling was too strange.

Ayala, accustomed to solitude, felt completely uncomfortable.

Meanwhile, Amos and Fei Man both received new messages.

They glanced at their communicators.

The messages were also from the Saint Cas Army Group, but not from the Ninth Army Group that had followed them in.

Instead, it was from the unit under Frey's command.

Amos scanned the message, paused for a moment, then looked at Xiao Chuzao.

The little one was quite perceptive. He looked up at Amos, his eyes filled with slight confusion. "Papa, what's wrong?"

"Your little friend has run into some trouble. He's a hybrid, and his Soul Race bloodline seems to be getting harder to suppress. They're requesting permission to use the energy suppression chamber."

Xiao Chuzao went still for a moment.

It was—Chao Huangmu!

Brother Mu.

"What happened to Brother Mu? Is he okay?"

This was one of the little one's closest friends. Xiao Chuzao stared anxiously at Amos, his big eyes wide.

Meanwhile, outside the contaminated zone, aboard the Saint Cas warship...

Inside the sealed energy suppression chamber, it was completely dark. Chao Huangmu, now restrained by the room's suppression, finally sat quietly in one spot, slowly calming his breathing and power.

Outside the door, their instructor, along with Peng Liang and Yun Songquan, waited.

The two hadn't yet returned to Saint Cas's imperial capital. Upon hearing that Chao Huangmu had been brought back and was experiencing some instability in his mental energy, they hurried over.

"How is he?" their instructor asked, eyeing the door.

"Has the situation stabilized?"

"Mostly. He was a hybrid before, but his Longlived race bloodline was hardly apparent—this time, did he encounter someone from the Hymn Organization? Did they draw out his power? But even so—this is the princes' specialized suppression room. It should be just enough to suppress him?"

The Saint Cas soldier handling the situation also seemed uncertain.

"Why does his power still seem to be rising? Didn't he only have a hint of Longlived heritage, at most affecting his lifespan and marginally enhancing his body? This looks like—"

It didn't seem like he only had a hint of Longlived heritage.

Chao Huangmu huddled in a corner, clutching his head as broken images flashed through his mind before vanishing just as quickly. Only a hoarse voice remained, shrieking demands for control of his body.

The Soul Race's mental energy was also unique—like the Crown Clan's, it was externally manifested. But their projected energy carried the rawest and most violent instincts of their race. Thus, the Soul Race was like a shaken soda can; the smallest disturbance could easily trigger an explosion.

Chao Huangmu had always kept it under control.

Until this time when it was drawn out, suppressed once, but flared up again—

This can't go on.

Chao Huangmu clenched the candy and gemstone in his palm, his usually bright and handsome face now looking somewhat distraught, like a guilty puppy, his face fallen.

—It's dangerous. He would become dangerous, unable to stay by Little Highness's side.

No, he had to suppress it again—once more.

Chao Huangmu forcefully restrained his own mental energy, huddled into himself as he slowly calmed himself.

"But by all appearances, it's stabilizing after all."

The Saint Casian soldier observed for a while before patting their instructor on the shoulder.

"Don't worry too much, though he might need a close watch afterward."

Meanwhile, Amos also received the latest report.

"It doesn't seem too serious."

Amos said to the little one.

Genuine Saint Casians actually have slightly different genes from ordinary humans; their personalities are prone to obsession, fanatically devoted to the Crown Clan.

Of course, they occasionally accept common refugees who pass the screening—children like Chao Huangmu.

After growing up in such an environment, they are largely assimilated, and the Saint Casian genes are highly dominant, fully absorbing these individuals within two or three generations.

Thus, Saint Cas as a whole is remarkably accepting of its already accepted citizens.

"Then, after it's over, Zao Zao will go see Brother Mu."

The little one listened to Amos and felt slightly reassured.

Turning back to continue, he noticed Ayala's expression was stone-cold.

No telling what he was thinking.

When the little one reached out and grasped Ayala's crown,

Ayala flinched, then looked up, finally unable to hold back his words—"Even the Longlived race is a fragile species."

In this regard, the Soul Race and the Crown Clan share some similarities.

Xiao Chuzao released his mental energy, the small crown on his head gleaming gold as he blinked his big eyes at Ayala.

"Here—lies my dearest friends—"

Ayala drifted off momentarily; these were words he'd held back for a long time, finally spoken.

Fei Man glanced at Ayala.

Ayala was their cousin, about their age, and during the time of the First Group Army's activity, he had been very cheerful—for a Saint Casian, that was already quite affectionate. He enjoyed the process of interaction until the First Group Army was wiped out to the last, and Ayala was left utterly alone.

—Including the departure of his loved ones.

Everything around him vanished in an instant.

If it were an ordinary person, they might've lost their minds.

Back then, Ayala had only recently come of age and was far from being a mentally mature member of the Crown Clan.

Everything happened too abruptly, reducing Ayala to silence.

They wouldn’t judge Ayala for these thoughts—before Xiao Chuzao arrived, all of the Crown Clan had lived in despair and agony.

But Ayala had hidden himself away too fiercely, stretched himself to the breaking point, burying himself in endless missions across the stars. Being his kin, they couldn’t help but want to pull him back.

Ayala gripped his psychic staff. He had always rejected such contact, refusing to recall anything, handling the beasts solo. Now, his body trembled faintly.

It came to nothing.

In the end, they perished just like that.

"Hardly anyone can accurately remember their names now. There were too many—far too many—those names—"

Ayala closed his eyes.

The desperate wails, the anguished cries, and despair of his fallen comrades’ loved ones still echoed before him.

For Ayala, time froze at that moment.

Even now, the clockwork in his heart had yet to turn again.

He made a conscious effort to forget that pain.

He had prepared himself mentally.

The gulf between their lifespans: the Longlived race and short-lived species.

But how suddenly it all happened left him unprepared—the aftermath hit harder than he had ever imagined.

Perhaps it was the streets of Saint Cas’s imperial capital they once walked together, or a certain kind of weather, or even just a phrase.

Already agonizing from his shattered crown, the Crown Clan member was completely bowled over by it all.

"They were heroes—"

But he could no longer face things as he once had.

Looking back now, what truly remained in the end?

"But, Uncle—"

Xiao Chuzao gazed at Ayala, his little hands pressed against Ayala’s crown. The fractures gradually receded before stopping entirely. The little one’s strength had surged once more, even gathering the scattered fragments around Ayala’s crown with his own psychic energy, reattaching them.

"Will you forget their names too? Forget them?"

For the first time in ages, Ayala’s crown felt light.

He looked up at the small child before him.

"The Archangel of the Angelic Realm—the other angels have all vanished. But Zao Zao will tell others, will remember them. They wanted Zao Zao to grow up well in the end."

The little one withdrew his hand, his eyes momentarily dazzled by a reflection nearby.

Those words left unspoken, those thoughts left unfinished.

Would they be like the angel’s parting words to Zao Zao?

Ayala didn’t know, but clearly, a few words couldn’t shake him. He merely softened his gaze slightly as he looked at the little one before standing up, his psychic energy uncharacteristically calm, no longer wracked by the previous agony of collapse.

"Yes, they should. There will still be those who remember them."

Ayala fell silent, tightening his grip on his psychic staff, ready to act again—

Near the barrier, faint glimmers revealed the barrier’s barely perceptible power.

The beasts snarled low, rustling as they caught the scent of fresh blood, frantically trying to breach the barrier.

The barrier was jagged and uneven, barely holding back the worst of the contamination.

Apart from the sounds of the beasts, the surroundings were eerily quiet.

Amos also raised his hand, gripping his psychic sword, while Fei Man rested her spear against her back, casually glancing toward the barrier.

Meanwhile, Xiao Chuzao was still preoccupied with whatever had reflected light into his eyes earlier.

With a quick flick, he removed his small crown—ignoring Ayala’s startled, disapproving glare—still unused to such actions.

"Zao Zao remembers now—"

The little one pondered, holding up his small crown as his psychic energy rippled gently—

Then, the adults watched as the golden psychic crown in the little one’s hands suddenly brightened.

[Adjusting brightness...]

Amos, Fei Man, Ayala: …?

The little one tugged at Amos’s clothes, lifting his small crown in admiration.

"So that’s how it works?"

Wait, you were just winging it?!

The little one looked up.

"Papa, there’s something over there—let’s check it out—"

Amos and the others followed behind Xiao Chuzao.

The little one’s glowing crown lit up the path ahead, and the nearby automated lights, analyzing his actions, also increased their brightness, lighting up the surroundings.

In the distance lay a pockmarked barrier like a crumbling fortress.

Only the rustling of beasts filled the air, but as the light flashed forward, their sight stretched far ahead—revealing metallic fragments, their dust disturbed by the beasts, faintly reflecting light.

Ayala and Fei Man both widened their eyes at the same time, staring at the sight before them—a Group Army’s fleet was massive.

Before, they’d only found scattered, mangled starship wreckage, most just scraps.

They’d thought the First Group Army’s remnants had been consumed by contamination long ago.

But now—those distant, clustered mounds weren’t hills at all. They were starship wreckage buried under thick layers of dust and soil—the emblem of the Saint Cas First Group Army, barely visible under layers of grime in this lightless wasteland—

And upon these wreckage, a barrier was erected—to ward off the contamination and protect them.

Why does it bear some resemblance to the psychic power of the Crown Clan, yet not entirely?

Because in their final moments, all Saint Cas soldiers acted without hesitation or doubt, using their last vestiges of psychic energy to construct one final barrier for their homeland—starting from the concentrated crash sites of this first Group Army, the barrier stretched and spread until now, when it was discovered, until now when it could no longer hold and was slowly giving way.

That was a barrier built upon wreckage with flesh and blood!

The Crown Clan’s attention was now entirely focused on these wrecks. None of them noticed the silent, flickering crimson flames behind the barrier. The roars ceased, and the mutant beasts seemed to know to retreat, many scattering in retreat. The surroundings fell silent as a colossal figure watched from afar. Having completely lost consciousness and driven only by instinct, the massive creature seemed somewhat bewildered, unsure why it had come here.

And—it stared blankly at the little one holding up the crown, frozen in place. The twin crimson fires in its eyes suddenly flared violently. Though devoid of awareness, its mind seemed to burn. It tilted its head, as if unable to comprehend.

Meanwhile, Xiao Chuzao was swaying his crown side to side, shedding light around him, completely unaware he was being watched intently.

"So this spreading—" And the final force composing this barrier—

Fei Man suddenly turned her head, observing the distorted, jagged barrier energy. Her gaze swept forward until it abruptly met two clusters of crimson fires.

The Crown Clan possessed keen vision, even in darkness. They hadn’t noticed earlier only because the area was obscured by dust, making it hard to discern the true situation. In the dim light, it was easy to mistake the wreckage for low hills—until the mutant beasts frantically tried to squeeze through the gaps, shaking off the thick layers of dust and debris.

Behind them, a massive figure hovered soundlessly, its wings flapping gently as it locked eyes with them.

In the dark expanse of the interstellar void, it was as if two flickering red beacons had been lit.

"Baba, that psychic thread—"

The little one tilted his head, following the suddenly appearing psychic thread, and unexpectedly caught sight of the massive creature behind the barrier—large enough to dwarf him many times over. Startled, he froze in place, completely defenseless. The six neat little wings on his back bristled all at once, turning him into a fluffed-up ball.

Ayala had already stiffened.

Amos gripped his Psychic Sword, calmly assessing the situation as he silently faced off against the highly dangerous behemoth.

Fei Man took two steps forward. She couldn’t see clearly, and the creature was in such a wretched state—a mutilated, bloodied hulk—that it was impossible to tell what drove its movements.

"Is that... Grandfather?"

Fei Man’s fingers tightened. Her face remained calm and indifferent, but her eyes rimmed red momentarily.

The Crown Clan were mighty and proud, especially the adults. Rarely did they speak with a voice thick with emotion.

"Grandfather doted on Mom the most—"

Did it come here because it sensed Solan’s psychic energy?

Grandfather... is he still alive? Is it really him? She couldn’t recognize him—there was almost no semblance left of a Crown Clan’s form.

But if it really was him... then back then... she should have been the one here... Grandfather. It should have been her.