Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Their home planet pledged allegiance to the Sanole faction, and upon reaching adulthood, they naturally enlisted in the Sanole armed forces.

However, the planet they were garrisoned on was suddenly ambushed by a large fleet of Menglota warships. Their base was utterly decimated, with only a handful of ships managing to escape. Yet, they remained relentlessly pursued by Menglota assault vessels, battered by relentless artillery fire. They barely survived, fleeing to Rt1367, only to find themselves ensnared by the Mechanical Race.

Initially, when they heard the black marketeers had fled, they hadn't pondered the reason.

Now, clarity dawned.

—Rt1367 was now under the jurisdiction of the Mechanical Race.

Had they known this sooner, they would never have chosen this location as a temporary landing point.

But it was too late for regrets.

The soldiers, herded like cargo into a building, hung their heads in despair, unable to bear contemplating their impending fate.

Unexpectedly, the Mechanical Race displayed no animosity towards them, even arranging for them to enter treatment pods one after another.

The treatment pods, however, were rather cramped, seemingly designed for younglings. The burly soldiers had to contort themselves as much as possible to fit inside.

Yet, simply surviving was more than they could have hoped for. Who would quibble over such a detail?

Moreover, in their military camps, they never enjoyed such luxurious conditions as treatment pods. Minor injuries were treated with sprays, and more severe cases required a military doctor and a treatment device. Treatment pods were exclusive to high-ranking officers.

The treatment pods proved exceptionally effective. One soldier, on the brink of death from internal bleeding, was now bouncing around with renewed vigor after emerging from the pod.

The Mechanical Race, being program-driven, possessed no inherent mercy. This unexpected benevolence was undoubtedly linked to the youngling.

But they dared not speculate further, as it was rumored that intelligent Mechanical Species could discern their thoughts.

Fearful of provoking the Mechanical Race, they trod on eggshells within the building, only daring to entertain innocuous thoughts.

For instance, had their warship sustained more than 50% damage? Could it still be repaired and reactivated after self-inspection?

After nearly a day of waiting, they mustered the courage to inquire with the Mechanical Soldiers, only to receive replies like, “Little master is not in the building,” “Little master is taking a nap,” or “Little master is playing in the oasis.”

Another day passed before Luo Ci remembered the people he had rescued two days prior and instructed the Mechanical Soldiers to bring them over.

The soldiers finally had the opportunity to board a Mechanical Race warship and gasped in awe, like country bumpkins witnessing something extraordinary—the Mechanical Race stood at the pinnacle of the evolutionary chain. The sheer technological sophistication and scale of their warship were evident, resembling a living mechanical leviathan.

Compared to the Mechanical Race’s warship, their own vessel was a dilapidated and shabby sight. Their meager vocabulary failed to describe the profound shock they felt; even their most advanced warship would likely be considered an outdated relic by the Mechanical Race.

The soldiers’ expressions were somewhat dazed—the technological disparity was simply too immense.

Navigating a labyrinthine corridor, they were led into a whimsical, dreamlike room. The space was remarkably expansive, with a plush, soft carpet covering the floor. Stuffed toys were scattered everywhere, and a delicate side table stood by the bed, adorned with exquisite porcelain and delectable pastries.

It was clearly a room designed for a child, its cozy and relaxed atmosphere a stark contrast to the harsh environment outside. The moment they stepped inside, their tense nerves involuntarily relaxed.

Luo Ci was nibbling on a pastry, his short legs swinging idly from a high stool. He selected a particularly appealing pastry and offered it to Tristan.

The Mechanical Species possessed no digestive system and had no need for sustenance, yet Tristan could not bring himself to refuse the youngling. He lowered his head and accepted it, the pastry instantly carbonizing upon entering his mouth.

This was Luo Ci’s favorite flavor. He looked at Tristan expectantly: “Is it good?”

“…Mm.”

Luo Ci’s eyes curved into happy crescents. Only then did he notice the soldiers brought in by the Mechanical Soldiers. Their previously disheveled appearances had been tidied up, and now they looked ordinary—at least their complexions were healthy.

After a moment’s thought, Luo Ci decided that good things should be shared. He picked up another pastry from the tray and offered it to them.

“Here you go.”

Staring blankly at the delectable pastry, the soldier’s stomach rumbled—he hadn’t had any nutritional supplements in a long time. The fragrant aroma of the pastry was irresistible, and even the strongest willpower couldn’t prevent him from swallowing hard.

But now he hesitated: should he open his mouth to accept it directly, or reach out with his hand? Since it was already offered to his lips, would taking it by hand be impolite?

Tristan’s gaze, which had been fixed on the youngling, slowly shifted over.

No words were spoken, and there wasn’t even a ripple of emotion in his eyes, yet the soldiers inexplicably sensed a quiet, terrifying threat.

The atmosphere grew heavy, as if the entire warship had momentarily ceased functioning.

They obediently took the pastry with their hands.

The next second, Tristan’s gaze shifted away without a trace of lingering interest.

The soldiers collectively exhaled in relief.

Luo Ci, completely oblivious to the unusual atmosphere, blinked and awaited the soldier’s response, his expression no different from when he fed the small creatures in the oasis. Tristan observed the youngling in his arms.

Swallowing the pastry, the soldier nodded stiffly, tasting nothing through his terror. Luo Ci beamed, saying happily, “Is it good? Then I’ll have No.02 give you more.”

There was still a pile of small sweet treats that needed to be dealt with. These soldiers were likely military personnel, tall and burly, so their appetites should be quite large. It was perfect for finishing off the leftover desserts. He truly was a clever little fellow.

“…” The crumbs still in the soldier’s throat nearly choked him.

They almost doubted their ears.

General No.02? That was the second-in-command of the Mechanical Race, capable of crushing them effortlessly with a mere flick of his finger. How could they possibly deserve to be served by the Mechanical Race’s second-highest general? The soldiers’ faces paled.

Luo Ci took a few sips of black tea to cleanse his palate, swallowing with a gulp, before asking, “No.02 said you’re troops under Sanole?”

“Yes…” The soldiers dared not slack off and recounted everything in detail: “Our home planet belongs to Sanole, so we all joined Sanole’s border planet garrison after reaching adulthood. Unexpectedly, our base was ambushed by Menglota. Only a few warships escaped, but most were destroyed by Menglota’s assault fleet.”

The animosity between Sanole and Menglota was a universally acknowledged fact throughout the galaxy. Sanole sought to dominate the star systems, while Menglota initially aimed to counterbalance Sanole. However, in recent decades, Menglota had also developed ambitions, aggressively expanding its territory in pursuit of galactic dominance.

The competition between the two factions over resource-rich and border planets had grown increasingly fierce, with frequent skirmishes.

Sanole’s warships, with their distinctive peacock-tail design, were easily identifiable. Whenever ships from either faction encountered each other, they would almost invariably open fire without hesitation.

Moreover, this time it was a pre-planned large-scale assault by Menglota. The border planet’s defenses were clearly inadequate, and the battle was an overwhelming rout.

The base quickly fell, and the few escaping warships were relentlessly pursued and destroyed.

They were piloting ordinary medium-sized warships, while their adversaries were Menglota’s well-equipped assault fleet. Escaping their concentrated fire was already a stroke of extraordinary luck.

They dared not conceal anything about these events, confessing everything truthfully.

After all, it would be effortless for the Mechanical Race to investigate. Judging by the youngling’s ability to command No.02, the youngling’s status was likely even higher than No.02’s, which made them even more cautious.

The youngling was clearly well cared for; a single command would send hundreds of Mechanical Soldiers rushing to his aid.

Even now, in this seemingly empty room, who knew how many Mechanical Soldiers were in stealth mode, guarding them?

“This Menglota assault fleet is likely under the command of Admiral Xiuser. That man is arrogant and petty… Since his assault fleet failed to destroy even one of our medium-sized warships and allowed us to escape, he might hold a grudge and pursue us.”

Worried, he added, “General No.03 should be in a dormant drift nearby recently. It’s not impossible that Xiuser might mobilize him.”

“…Drifting?” Luo Ci furrowed his small brows, only then remembering that Sanole had recruited General No.04, while Menglota had recruited General No.03. He had only met the leader and No.02, never encountering Generals three through five.

But what did “drifting” mean?

The soldier explained earnestly—through years of warfare, their Sanole forces had lost countless warships to General No.03 and had discovered a pattern.

Typically, after a battle, General No.03 would enter a dormant drifting state. If disturbed, he would awaken and enter an alert status. Sanole warships, fearing direct confrontation with General No.03, would use communication devices to warn all Sanole soldiers to steer clear whenever they detected him in this drifting state.

No wonder they were so well-informed.

No.02 glanced at Tristan and said calmly, “When retrieving the little master, I attempted to contact them. Their signal communicators seemed to have issues; they were likely jammed or interfered with.”

Most communication among the Mechanical Species did not rely on spoken language but on communicators for transmitting information. If a communicator was damaged or interfered with, it would indeed prevent them from receiving each other’s messages.

But the leader was different. Just as data streams would return when a mechanical body was destroyed, the leader could bypass communicators and directly issue commands to data streams, effortlessly recalling them. Yet Tristan showed no intention of doing so.

No.02 therefore did not mention this method.

“Ah…” Luo Ci pursed his lips, blinking in confusion before murmuring, “How could they be interfered with…?”

The reason was probably easy to imagine—if the Mechanical Race had any messages to convey to them, General No.03 or General No.04 would inevitably return to Yixu. For Sanole and Menglota, this would be a devastating loss. To prevent this future trouble, Sanole and Menglota had tacitly agreed to secretly block the signals.

But if General No.03 truly came to Rt1367, then he could meet No.03…

Luo Ci cupped his small face in his hands, his lips curling into an involuntary smile as he mumbled, “I’m so excited…”

“…” The soldier had intended to give a warning, not expecting this reaction. He wondered if he’d misheard. “?”

In high spirits, Luo Ci waved his hand, instructing the Mechanical Soldiers to take them to rest. “You go rest. If No.03 attacks, I’ll let you know.”

The soldiers were escorted away in a daze.

Luo Ci’s good mood lasted for days. In his free time, he pestered Tristan to go everywhere with him. Tristan had construction projects to plan and oversee, but the little youngling insisted on trailing behind.

Even if he had just left the youngling in the room a moment ago, the next second he would hear the pitter-patter of tiny footsteps behind him.

Turning around, he would see the youngling waddling after him on short legs.

Spotting his glance, Luo Ci deliberately blinked his big, watery eyes, crouching pitifully to catch his breath, and then extended two chubby arms, shamelessly demanding to be carried.

“Up!”

Tristan approached and picked up the clingy, spoiled youngling.

After finally finishing his work, he joined the youngling in waiting by the oasis.

Finally, three days later, signs of scanning were detected near the planet.

After scouring nearby worlds without finding their target, Menglota’s assault fleet finally noticed this inconspicuous planet occupied by black marketeers and redirected their warship toward it.

—

This Sanole border planet’s defenses were clearly inadequate. Admiral Xiuser’s Menglota fleet effortlessly destroyed its base, claiming the planet with minimal effort.

For Admiral Xiuser, it was a perfectly executed mission.

The warship cruised leisurely through the space lane, its victorious crew reveling in celebration.

Until the duty officer detected a Sanole vessel alarmingly close via the instrument panel. Menglota’s assault fleet had more advanced equipment than Sanole’s standard warships—they’d spotted the enemy first, while the other side might still be unaware.

It was likely a medium-sized patrol ship from the border planet, perhaps still unaware that the border planet had been invaded, unable to contact its base, and now returning.

Admiral Xiuser ordered the fleet to slowly encircle it, with gunners ready to destroy the lone vessel.

A crimson glow gathered in the dark space lane as silent energy cannons locked onto the Sanole ship light-years away.

The energy blast tore through the darkness, culminating in a blinding explosion at the target.

Observing the instruments, Admiral Xiuser noted that the medium-sized ship hadn’t been destroyed—only its energy compartment hit—and had swiftly reacted, narrowly escaping the encirclement. Fury erupted within him.

Notorious for his pettiness, the admiral seethed with humiliation at this failure. The raid should’ve been a flawless victory; letting an enemy ship slip was intolerable.

He even suspected this was a deliberate trap—that within hours, footage of Menglota’s assault fleet failing to destroy a single medium-sized patrol ship would spread across the galactic networks.

Then no one would praise his latest conquered Sanole border world—they’d only mock him for missing such an easy target!

Damnable Sanole! Cunning Sanole! It’d be a catastrophe...

This had to be stopped.

When his aide asked if they should pursue, Admiral Xiuser silently agreed. No video tarnishing his or Menglota’s reputation could be allowed to circulate.

They intimidated every nearby planet into revealing whether they’d harbored the fugitive ship, threatening dire consequences for aiding Sanole—yet found nothing.

As the deadline to return to Menglota loomed, the admiral gnashed his teeth. Seeing his patience fray, his deputy hesitantly suggested seeking aid from General No.03, currently nearby. If framed as hunting Sanole forces, the general might assist.

Though temporarily allied with Menglota, No.03 only sided with them against Sanole.

And only high-ranking officers had the privilege to address him.

Yet Admiral Xiuser feared political rivals exposing his blunder more than requesting the general’s help. If they learned he’d let an enemy escape, they’d not only ridicule him but weaponize the incident—an unbearable prospect.

After deliberation, the admiral approved. Through a secure channel, he requested General No.03’s assistance.

With the general’s aid, their search efficiency skyrocketed. Soon, Admiral Xiuser fixed on a suspicious planet—Rt1367.

A world reportedly inhabited only by black marketeers—greedy, unscrupulous types.

After reviewing the planet’s data, Rt1367’s suspiciousness sharply rose in the admiral’s eyes.

He ordered his aide to hail the planet’s comm tower, recycling earlier threats to other worlds. Expecting groveling compliance, he was met only with mechanical beeps.

The admiral’s expression darkened—he was now certain they harbored the fugitives. His aide, catching his glare, announced imperiously, "You have thirty minutes to surrender them! Otherwise, Menglota’s fleet will bombard your planet. The consequences will be yours alone."

They were a fully armed assault fleet, backed by General No.03—a match even for Sanole’s royal navy, let alone these lowly black marketeers. Contempt seeped into their tone.

Yet only automated replies answered.

Enraged, Admiral Xiuser pounded the console. His aide frowned, exuding haughty pity—this bombardment was inevitable...

......

The Sanole soldiers had enjoyed rare peace these days, fed thrice daily by the little master’s snacks. In mere days, each had gained several pounds.

Recently obsessed with foraging, Luo Ci treated the oasis as his personal garden, befriending its creatures and discovering delicacies—fist-sized miluo fruits, honey pots hidden beneath flowers.

The more he gathered, the more content he grew.

Every day, he would carry a large pile of food back, refusing help from the Mechanical Soldiers, waddling like a little penguin hauling supplies, swaying unsteadily until he inevitably took a tumble and landed on his bottom.

But Luo Ci didn’t need to be picked up. He patted his little bottom with his hands, stood up on his own, and continued trotting back with his arms full of food.

He washed the Milo Fruits clean, evenly divided them into several portions, mixed them with flower nectar, and arranged them on plates.

The tiny figure held up the plates and dashed to the warriors’ rest area.

Truth be told, after being fed in various ways by the little one these past few days, the warriors had all gained weight. But the child was so earnest in his offerings that they couldn’t bring themselves to refuse… though the way he fed them was exactly like how he fed the small creatures in the oasis—except they were the ones being kept.

Luo Ci cupped his chin in his hands and asked, “Don’t you like this?”

He was just asking, nothing more, but his wide, glistening eyes gazed at them seriously, his voice soft and sweet, his puffy cheeks bulging slightly, making him seem inexplicably dejected.

Just as they were about to explain that it wasn’t that they didn’t like it, they just weren’t very hungry—the Mechanical Soldiers at the door turned their heads in unison. Their mechanical bodies remained motionless, but a dozen heads swiveled silently, their mechanical eyes staring at them without emotion.

“…Ahem, we like it. Of course we do.”

Unnoticed by the child, the warriors bit back their words and obediently picked up a piece, gulping it down with a grimace. If their weight continued unchecked, they might not even be allowed back into the military barracks upon returning to their home planet.

Such a sweet burden.

Seeing the child’s smile return, the Mechanical Soldiers silently turned their heads back.

“Phew…” They sighed in relief.

Just then, Tristan entered from outside. Luo Ci dashed over and clung to his leg, hearing him say, “No.03 is here.”

Luo Ci’s eyes lit up. He tilted his little face up and reached out his arms, trying to grab Tristan. “I want to see!”

Tristan picked up the child and carried him toward the Communication Tower, with the other Mechanical Soldiers—along with the warriors of Sanole—following behind.

No.02 to No.05 were said to have completely different appearances. No.02 was the only humanoid robot, while the other war machines were not in human form. Luo Ci was curious—what did No.03 look like?

The Communication Tower was equipped with a giant screen, clearly showing the tight formation of Menglota’s fleet spread out beyond the planet.

In a short time, the fleet had encircled the planet, and from the formation of their ships, it was clear that Menglota’s warships had taken a surrounding, threatening stance, already preparing for a full-scale bombardment of the planet.

The warriors stared grimly at the screen, recognizing these as Menglota’s most advanced technological warships. After failing to receive a satisfactory response, the frustrated General Xiuser had given them half an hour to hand over the fugitives. Now that the time was up, he had commanded General No.03 to ready the Star Pursuit Cannon.

Equipped with a heavy Star Pursuit Cannon, No.03 needed only one shot to obliterate the entire planet, with the resulting energy blast powerful enough to affect neighboring planets as well.

The cannon barrel pointed downward.

—That was the signal that the bombardment was about to begin.

The warriors tensed, their clenched palms slick with sweat.

Luo Ci was too small to see the screen even on tiptoe. Held in Tristan’s arms, he tilted his head in confusion. “What’s happening now?”

Tristan replied, “They’re facing off.”

No.02 turned his gaze from the screen. “Menglota wants us to hand over these soldiers, or they’ll bombard the planet.”

“That’s so mean.” Luo Ci huffed angrily, pouting. “Let them try.”

The warriors broke out in a cold sweat, their vision blurring from the moisture. Facing General No.03’s heavy Star Pursuit Cannon, even the Mechanical Race bodies would suffer damage. They were tempted to just say, “Hand us over already.”

But Menglota’s countdown had already begun—

“Three…”

“Two…”

“One!”