Chapter 63

Chapter 63

Lu Cian was still reeling when the entire spaceship shuddered violently, spinning him around until he felt nauseous. One thought dominated his mind: Had Brother Nan’s showboating gone awry?

Nair Inan’s maneuver to dodge a meteor was vastly different from a controlled collision. The difficulty had skyrocketed, and if the meteor’s speed had shifted even slightly, it would have been a death sentence.

“See? I told you showing off kills!”

“Wh-what’s happening? Did we really hit a meteor?”

Lu Cian felt like a walking disaster magnet. He’d just escaped trouble on Planet Trota, only to find the black-market boss waiting to ambush them. They had truly jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire!

Clutching the fixed chair, Lu Cian swayed with the ship, his head spinning. If this continued, he was sure he’d throw up!

Suddenly, a strong hand gripped him, steadying his reeling body and giving his churning stomach a brief reprieve.

The moment he was pulled into that embrace, Lu Cian recognized who it was.

Nair Inan held Lu Cian securely and said, “I detonated a meteor. The pursuing ships should be damaged, but the explosion’s shockwave was too widespread. Although we dodged in time, our ship was still caught in the blast. It’s totaled.”

Lu Cian’s voice rose in alarm, “Then what do we do? Abandon ship?”

His ear was then playfully pinched—not painful, but it left a warm, tingling sensation. Lu Cian flinched. “Wh-what?”

Nair Inan replied, “Abandon ship? You want to just open the hatch and jump out? With your physique, you wouldn’t last a minute in space.”

Lu Cian huffed indignantly. So what if male Zerg were superior? So what if they were physically stronger?

Yet, the truth was, they really were.

On this ship, everyone but him was a male Zerg, capable of surviving in space for at least an hour. If he went out there, his fate would be sealed in two words: dead meat.

Nair Inan continued, “Fortunately, the ship was equipped with escape pods. However, they’re limited in number, so you’ll have to squeeze into one with me.”

Four escape pods for ten Zerg—Nair Inan and Lu Cian took one, while the remaining eight crammed into three pods, packed so tightly that even the slightest movement was difficult.

Nair Inan initiated the ship’s emergency braking, urging them to board the escape pods as quickly as possible.

The escape pods were quite advanced, allowing for pre-set escape routes. Nair Inan rapidly processed the star map with his mental faculties before finalizing their course.

With the pods’ energy reserves, they could drift through space for a long time. However, the limited space meant food and water wouldn’t last nearly as long.

The escape pods also had to bear the weight and ensure the survival of two or three Zerg, not to mention the many unknown dangers along the way.

To be safe, they needed to find a habitable planet within two months.

The vast universe held many unknown star regions, with various celestial bodies and nebulae of breathtaking beauty. But behind that beauty often lay hidden dangers.

Visible and tangible dangers, no matter how perilous, were at least comprehensible.

What was truly terrifying were the threats that appeared and vanished without warning.

Whether by good fortune or ill, Lu Cian’s group hadn’t drifted far before encountering cosmic turbulence, which threw them off their intended course.

Once inside the escape pods, the Zerg entered a state of semi-hibernation, oblivious to the violent jolting.

Fortunately, though they veered off course, the four escape pods were not scattered by the cosmic turbulence; they miraculously remained together.

Sometimes, escaping death wasn't just about luck; it also required a certain level of capability.

The escape pods indeed showed signs of being scattered by the cosmic turbulence, but after the turbulence subsided, the pods’ internal programming kicked in. The secondary pods, sensing the main escape pod, converged by following its signal.

Nair Inan’s escape pod was the main one. If any escape pod detected a suitable planet nearby, it would send a signal to the main pod. The main pod, having higher authority, would gather information to assess the planet’s safety before deciding whether to land.

However, while the main pod had higher authority, its safety features were identical to the other escape pods.

If the main pod was not nearby, the secondary pods would autonomously decide to land on a suitable planet.

Thus, when Nair Inan’s main escape pod landed, the other escape pods followed suit, descending onto the newly discovered planet.

Earlier, as the spaceship was on the verge of crashing, they had all been filled with dread.

Shipwrecks were common, and it wasn’t rare for survivors to escape through pods. But when it happened to them, the 20% mortality rate felt terrifyingly high.

Only when the escape pods truly landed safely did their hearts, which had been through such highs and lows, finally settle.

Otherwise, the five male Zerg might have doubted their decision. Dying in an adventure seemed worse than being sold to the mines by the exchange, where at least they would have kept their lives.

Once the escape pods landed safely, a waking mist was released inside the cabin, rousing the sleeping survivors.

The moment the hatch opened, Lu Cian eagerly rushed out, breathing in the fresh air.

They had landed on a remote, unnamed planet, identified only by a number.

Yet, their luck was truly remarkable. Despite being a fringe planet, its environment was not as harsh as expected.

Perhaps the records were inaccurate, or the Empire had overlooked this fringe planet, or it was simply too far from the homeworld to have been developed, leaving it desolate for so long.

…

Stepping out of the escape pod, Lu Cian was in high spirits, grateful for his narrow escape from death.

Lu Cian turned his head and suddenly asked, out of the blue, “Brother Nan, does your name have any special meaning?”

Nair Inan paused, surprised by the sudden question. After a moment, he replied, “Of course it does.”

Lu Cian was intrigued. “What is it? Why are you keeping me in suspense?”

“Do you know what ‘Shelley’ represents?” Nair Inan deflected, asking a question in return.

Lu Cian shook his head. He certainly didn’t know. He had only a superficial understanding of Zerg culture and no grasp of its deeper meanings.

“Our clan name, Shelley, means ‘soaring against the wind and sand.’”

Nair Inan spoke with deep respect and pride for his clan, a faint smile gracing his lips as he explained the meaning of Shelley.

“My sire was the clan leader. When I was born, the first rays of dawn touched the horizon, so he named me Nair Inan—the rising sun. He believed I was the clan’s hope, expecting me to lead our people toward a glorious future.” Recalling his sire’s earnest hopes, Nair Inan’s smile deepened.

His face, usually veiled by a long-standing coolness, now bloomed with a smile. Though it lasted only a few seconds, it shone like a brilliant pearl.

Lu Cian gazed at that radiant smile, tinged with a hint of unrestrained joy, and finally understood what the books described as “stunning beauty, radiant glow.”

“Don’t worry, your wish will surely come true. I’ll be there to support you,” Lu Cian declared firmly.

This wasn’t mere empty promise; Lu Cian was well aware of his own capabilities.

It was precisely because he saw things clearly, as an outsider with an objective view, that he could discern the root problems of the Zerg.

Every dynasty that ushered in a new era flourished with the potential for lasting legacy, not by chance, but through self-discipline, adherence to tradition, and humble acceptance of advice.

Learning from the lessons of past dynasties, gaining experience for reform, and avoiding the repetition of mistakes—this was the cycle of dynastic change.

Lu Cian couldn’t guarantee the future; the dead know nothing of what happens after them. He only needed to do his best in the present, and if he felt he had tried his utmost, that was enough.

“Thank you,” Nair Inan replied solemnly, recognizing the genuine sincerity in Lu Cian’s words, which came from the heart.

He knew exactly what kind of life his clan had endured during these times, and all these changes were brought about by this young male Zerg before him. Lu Cian was truly the Shelley Clan’s lucky star.

Nair Inan wondered if the Great Elder had misread the omens. He wasn’t the Shelley Clan’s savior; clearly, this young male Zerg was the variable, the hope for their clan’s rise.

When Nair Inan was captured, the Shelley Clan was at a crossroads of life and death. Yet, after meeting Lu Cian, he miraculously escaped from prison.

Although Lu Cian didn’t directly assist in their escape, Nair Inan had a gut feeling that their safe departure was due to Lu Cian.

Later, Lu Cian even helped him lead the remaining clan members to a new star system, allowing the Shelley Clan to preserve their legacy and start anew.

Everything had happened so smoothly that Nair Inan felt his past life of constant flight was nothing but a dream.

The dream had been brutal, but reality was so smooth that Nair Inan still found it hard to believe, feeling a sense of unreality.

Nair Inan didn’t understand why things had turned out this way, but he was even more unwilling to believe that Lu Cian was a spy.

Perhaps, as Lu Cian said, the Insect God was truly watching over them, willing to extend a helping hand to these struggling male Zerg, and thus sent an envoy to assist them.

Perhaps Lu Cian was that envoy.

Nair Inan was aware of the Insect God stories Lu Cian and Milo had spun; he just didn’t realize Lu Cian was bluffing.

“This planet seems pretty good; it’s almost as good as the new one we found,” Lu Cian remarked, stretching his ungloved hands to feel the environment.

Nair Inan closed his eyes, pondering for a moment, before finally retrieving the planet’s data from his memory. “It is indeed quite good, comparable to a first-class planet. If the Zerg behind it maintained it well, its rating might even be higher.”

Lu Cian was surprised. He had some understanding of the Empire’s planet ratings. According to Brother Nan, the owner of this planet was likely royalty.

“It’s such a waste to leave such a good planet vacant. Even if it’s a fringe planet and a bit far, the royal family has vast wealth; there’s no reason for them to abandon such a good planet, right?”

Lu Cian looked around as he spoke, noticing that the planet’s soil was also good, with green plants growing everywhere, though he didn’t recognize them.