Chapter 76

Chapter 76

"How is it? Can you move normally now?"

In the Qizhahande Starzone, the 17th border star sector, the largest military medical center on Planet Kasimu.

Unlike his energetic state when leaving the capital planet, the blue-haired Military Female now lay wrapped in medicinal adhesive, with a bone graft implant embedded in one arm. Though her condition had improved after treatment, she still looked somewhat battle-worn.

"I'll manage. I can be discharged tomorrow once the implant is removed."

Half-lying on the hospital bed, the blue-haired Military Female nodded. Though her face remained pale, her tone was steady and calm, as if she had never been injured.

Yet, in truth, this was the most severe injury she had ever sustained.

After all, the star beast had fled so quickly that the blue-haired Military Female had been forced to kill it alone before the reinforcements could arrive.

Glancing at her temporarily immobile arm, Zhousha—who had already heard the medic's briefing—knew just how grave her injuries were.

To be blunt, if the damage had been even slightly worse, Gore might have lost her arm entirely, possibly requiring a mechanical replacement.

Thinking of this, Zhousha lowered his voice and met her gaze.

"Since what happened to Philo is unavoidable, you must remain composed. Going rogue during star beast extermination missions is never advisable. This time, you were lucky. But can you guarantee the same for the future? You know the current state of the border star sectors. If the star beasts launch a full-scale offensive while you're severely injured—especially if there are other S-level star beasts among them—how long do you think the Insectoid race can hold out?"

Unlike decades ago, when the Insectoid race had no shortage of S-level Military Females, declining birth rates and lower psychic aptitude meant that while they could still repel most star beasts beyond the border sectors, they could no longer completely eliminate the threat.

Lowering her eyes, the blue-haired Military Female did not refute his words.

This time, she had indeed acted rashly.

But...

"Is there still no news about Philo?"

Though there were many questions to ask, and though she had asked the same one just the day before, the blue-haired Military Female still voiced it first.

After all, while other insects might not know certain details, Zhousha—as Philo's mother—would surely be aware.

Silence. The old Military Female, who had rushed to the capital planet due to an urgent military situation, paused briefly before answering quietly.

"Li Wei found traces of the life pod Philo was piloting near the Frugian border. Based on his judgment and instrument analysis, Philo... likely entered an unmapped chaotic sector."

A chaotic star sector... No wonder the star beast didn’t pursue further.

When they had first tracked the star beast that ambushed Philo, the insects had been reinvigorated. After all, compared to searching aimlessly, locating the beast would likely mean Philo wasn’t far away.

Yet, even after Gore killed the star beast, they still found no trace of Philo.

Considering the border sectors they had already combed through, as much as they hated to admit it, Philo couldn’t still be within the Insectoid race’s star sectors—otherwise, they would have found him.

Beyond the Insectoid race, only the chaotic star sectors would have made the star beast abandon its pursuit.

The universe, as classified by insectoid cosmologists, was divided into various star sectors based on celestial systems. These could further be categorized as ordered sectors (within the Insectoid race) and disordered sectors (outside the Insectoid race).

Ordered sectors, including border regions, were enveloped in a signal network emitted by the Insectoid race’s navigation beacons. Any insect navigating these sectors could easily find their way back, even from the most remote barren planets.

In contrast, disordered sectors—those beyond the Insectoid race—were unexplored regions. Any insect who strayed into these areas without promptly finding the correct path risked being lost forever.

To date, many missing Military Females had met this fate.

Though the unmapped nature of these sectors made it difficult to return, insects who ventured near disordered sectors were typically either strong fighters or highly experienced in deep-space survival. Thus, they could endure for some time despite challenges like depleted fuel, mechanical failures, alien creatures, or resource shortages.

But chaotic star sectors were different—entirely different.

Chaotic star sectors existed outside both ordered and disordered sectors. The insects had designated them as such for one reason: chaos.

Yes, these were realms of absolute chaos.

Devoid of usable resources, filled only with irremediable harmful radiation, endless space debris, and... countless cosmic vermiform organisms.

Cosmic vermiform organisms—their origins unknown, their emergence unexplained.

No insect knew when these creatures first appeared or where they came from, but they understood their nature.

Simply put, chaotic star sectors were avoided by all insects and star beasts precisely because of these vermiform organisms.

According to insectoid field reports from insects who had accidentally wandered into chaotic sectors, these organisms fed on harmful radiation. At first glance, they might seem like helpful cosmic filters.

Unfortunately, vermiform organisms didn’t just consume radiation—they transformed it into even more destructive forms.

Thanks to their sturdy carapaces and stable genetics, insects and star beasts were typically unfazed by most cosmic radiation, allowing them to traverse the universe freely.

This resilience had helped the Insectoid race secure its place as a preeminent stellar power.

Yet, everything has its bane.

Despite their resistance to most radiation, insects and star beasts were acutely vulnerable to the transmuted radiation emitted by vermiform organisms.

It had been observed that without protective gear, any insect entering a chaotic star sector would soon suffer gradual genetic unraveling, inevitably leading to deformity and death.

Recognizing this, the Insectoid race had long deemed chaotic star sectors quarantine zones.

During the Interstellar War, some insects had considered transporting vermiform organisms out of chaotic sectors as weapons against star beasts, despite the genetic contamination risk.

But the first Military Female to attempt this quickly discovered that the organisms died shortly after leaving their native habitat, rendering them useless.

After numerous aborted experiments, the Insectoid race ultimately red-zoned these hazardous regions from explorable space.

Yet fate was capricious.

Philo’s life pod had headed straight for a chaotic star sector.

His timely entry had likely spared him from the star beast’s pursuit—but was that truly fortunate? After over a month in that toxic expanse, could Philo still be alive?

The torment of genetic unraveling caused by vermiform organisms was akin to having one’s carapace slowly carved apart with a knife.

Many insects, even the pain-resistant Military Females, chose self-termination before the degradation could complete.

As for Philo—a male insect raised on a frontier world, lacking even a carapace—how could he endure such torment?

Clenching her fist, the blue-haired Military Female nearly cracked the gel coating her wounds. Meeting Zhousha’s gaze—despite her life-threatening wounds, despite her psychic destabilization from engaging the S-level star beast—she ground out,

"I’ll find him."

Even if a month had passed. Even if his DNA matrix had long since shattered. Even if his body now drifted cold and lifeless in that void sector—

"I’ll find him."

Whether he could be recovered, whether he still drew breath—it didn't matter.

But, even in the Chaotic Star Zone, as long as she hasn't witnessed his complete death with her own eyes, as long as Philo remains "missing," she must go find him—she should go find him.

The blue-haired female Insect's pupils darkened, as if declaring her decision, or as if uttering her vow.

However, male Insects could be restricted from traveling to border star domains for various reasons, and female Insects couldn't simply go wherever they pleased based on their own desires.

"No."

This was both an answer and a decision.

Zhousha was not just Philo’s parent—her greater responsibility in life, her duty for most of her existence, was what General Zhousha ought to bear.

She was one of the highest-ranking officers in the Alliance Military and the lead responsible Insect for Philo’s disappearance within the military.

As if she had long anticipated Gore’s reaction upon hearing this news, despite the Old Female Insect being overwhelmed by Philo’s affairs recently, she still made time today to personally visit the medical center to see the Military Female who, disregarding strategy and military regulations, had resolutely chosen to slay the S-class star beast alone.

After speaking, the Old Female Insect lowered her gaze and said solemnly,

"Gore, I hope you haven’t forgotten the oath you swore when you officially became a Military Female, nor the greatest responsibility you bear as the heir of the Aogutale Family."

"Even if you are an S-class Female Insect, if Philo truly entered the Chaotic Star Zone, neither you nor any other Insect should risk entering it."

Yes, there was no need.

The rays emitted by the Chaotic Star Zone’s wriggling organisms were something no Female Insect, regardless of their psychic strength, could withstand—this was evident from how the S-class star beast abandoned its pursuit of Philo.

Given this, if the Alliance allowed Insects to enter the Chaotic Star Zone, it would only lead to more unnecessary sacrifices.

Moreover… Gore was not just any other Female Insect.

The significance of the Alliance’s only S-class Female Insect far surpassed Gore’s personal will.

Especially after Gore slew that S-class star beast—if anything were to happen to her before the next S-class Female Insect emerged, the political fallout would be no less severe than the current incident of Philo’s disappearance.

Her gaze swept over the blue-haired female Insect’s increasingly clenched fist before the Old Female Insect turned to look out the window, her voice hoarse.

"Regarding the search and rescue for Philo, all search teams will persist within the Alliance’s designated three-month timeframe. However, their operations will be confined to Alliance territory."

"As for beyond the Alliance’s borders…"

The Old Female Insect fell silent, her eyelashes trembling faintly as if uncontrollable, before—

"On the day I step down from my position, I will personally go and bring him back."

That was her son—her male offspring lost since childhood, the one she had searched for tirelessly for years, the one who was more exceptional than any other…

So, if anyone had the right to enter the Chaotic Star Zone to retrieve him, no Insect was more qualified than she was.

But her time to go was not now.

Once she shed the responsibilities of General Zhousha, she would take up her parental duties once more.

So, Philo.

If you truly entered the Chaotic Star Zone, if you are truly adrift in that lethal expanse—do not fear, do not panic.

Please wait a little longer… just a little longer.

Time dragged unbearably since Philo’s disappearance.

Every day, every hour, Insects pored over the StarNet for updates from the military’s search and rescue reports, as well as unverified reports released by private fleets that had also ventured to the border star domains.

Yet despite the deluge of data, despite the growing number of search parties for Philo… nothing.

Time advanced inexorably, but the progress in finding Philo remained stagnant.

What did this signify?

What did this imply?

Ordinary civilians might not fully grasp it, perhaps still clinging to hope and praying fervently—but among the aristocratic echelons of the capital, some elders of young female Insects had already begun preparing to seek new candidates for their future potential mates.

After all, whether human or Insect, all creatures must look ahead.

But… looking ahead?

Picking up the nearly disintegrated drone, staring at the red flag emblem on it, observing its distinctly anthropomorphic features, the Silver-Haired Male Insect’s fingers trembled before he finally collapsed to his knees on the completely sandified ground.

In the end… was there truly no way back?