Chapter 60 A Bite

Chapter 60: A Bite

The Star Beast Tide—a persistent external threat to the Zerg—recurs annually, lasting over a month each time. During its early and late phases, Star Beast assaults are relatively mild and easily repelled. Yet in the mid-phase, when the colossal Star Beasts awaken, defense alone proves insufficient to hold them back.

To counter these formidable mid-phase assaults, garrison forces devise coordinated defense-and-ambush strategies each year—specifically during the window between the awakening of the massive Star Beasts and the onset of their organized offensives. The objective is to whittle down their effective combat strength and prevent them from coalescing into a unified, large-scale force.

The ambush that left Idris comatose was precisely such a preemptive strike targeting those colossal Star Beasts. Fortunately, it achieved remarkable success—eliminating a significant portion of them. As a result, no large-scale offensive materialized during Idris’s coma.

Upon waking, Idris was swiftly followed by reinforcements arriving at B612. Once integrated, B612’s defensive lines and logistical infrastructure were restructured. Every member of the Second Army surged into high gear, fully mobilizing for battle.

“Your Excellency Samuel, would you like to rest for a moment?” Ray waved dismissively at the soldier who had just entered, signaling him to withdraw. He then approached the chair, leaned down gently, and urged Samuel.

Samuel didn’t reply immediately. With the soldier gone, he relaxed his posture, sinking back into the chair. Closing his eyes, he massaged his throbbing temples. “Ray, how many soldiers still require Mental Soothing today?”

“Twenty,” Ray replied, worry etched across his face. From eight o’clock this morning until now, Your Excellency had worked nonstop for ten hours.

Aside from a thirty-minute lunch break, he hadn’t left his seat—not once. And this grueling pace had been his routine since the second day after arriving at B612.

Watching Samuel—exhausted yet unyielding—Ray felt as though a heavy stone pressed upon his heart: grief-stricken and deeply anxious. He knew exactly *for whom* Samuel pushed himself so relentlessly—but if this continued, Samuel himself would collapse.

“Your Excellency, your body is already severely fatigued. You must not push yourself further,” Ray pleaded again. Seizing Samuel’s brief pause, he turned to pour a glass of warm water and handed it over.

Samuel remained silent. He accepted the glass, drank some water, rested with his eyes closed for roughly five minutes, then opened them, sat upright, and said, “All right—you may send in the next one.”

Ray opened his mouth to protest—then shut it again, knowing his words held little sway and persuasion was futile. Helplessly, he nodded to the soldier stationed at the door.

The door opened—but the person entering wasn’t the soldier who’d just left. Ray glanced up, instinctively stepped back several paces, then quietly exited the room with the door guard, closing the door behind them.

Idris gazed at the slender figure seated in the chair, approaching step by step. When he reached behind Samuel, he leaned down gently and wrapped his arms around him. “Your Excellency—didn’t you vow to soothe only forty soldiers per day? Why did you have Ray summon more, even after exceeding today’s quota? You’ve broken your promise—*again*.”

His voice was hoarse—aching with sorrow. Samuel flinched slightly, then relaxed his stiffened back, letting himself lean against the Zerg’s chest. Still, mindful of Idris’s injuries, he held himself back just a fraction.

“Brother scolds me—but you’re no different. You skipped lunch *again*, and have been working nonstop until now,” Samuel murmured, stroking the hands clasped around him.

Since his injury, Idris’s body temperature had dropped sharply. His once-warm hands now felt icy cold.

Samuel clasped those hands in his own, voice thick with concern: “Why are your hands so cold *again*?”

“The medic says it’s a common side effect following a Star Beast injury. Once we return to the Imperial Capital Star and purge the residual toxins from my system, my temperature will normalize. It’s nothing serious.”

Over the past few days, Samuel’s anxiety over those lingering toxins had visibly dimmed his spirits. Unwilling to burden him further, Idris deliberately shifted the subject.

“Your Excellency…” Idris leaned close to Samuel’s ear, pressing a soft kiss there, his voice low and tender. “Will you accompany me to dinner tonight?”

“But today’s soothing sessions aren’t finished yet,” Samuel replied, torn.

After days of relentless work, he’d already soothed all soldiers suffering severe mental disturbance. Yet the number still in the *mid-stage* of disturbance remained vast.

If left unsoothed, their condition could deteriorate once the Star Beasts launched their assault—potentially compromising battlefield effectiveness. Worse, delaying treatment would exponentially increase the time required later. Thus, Samuel aimed to soothe as many as possible *now*, minimizing uncertainty.

“Work never ends,” Idris said, releasing him, stepping around to face Samuel directly, lifting him effortlessly, and settling him on the edge of the bed. Then he took the chair himself, resting his head on Samuel’s lap. “Your Excellency has changed. Ever since you agreed to become my consort, you’ve stopped clinging to me.”

“Has Your Excellency lost interest in me?”

“How could that be!” Samuel gently stroked Idris’s cool, pale hair, countering with a hint of resignation. “It’s clearly *Brother* who’s been buried in work from dawn till dusk—with no time for me. And now you’re turning the tables.”

“I have time now,” Idris said. “But Your Excellency refuses me—for *work*.”

“Your Excellency—what matters more to you? Me… or work?”

Samuel studied him curiously, detecting a playful, almost unreasonable teasing beneath the question.

Could truly becoming Brother’s Male Consort really grant such privileged status?

It felt strange—yet… he liked it.

Samuel couldn’t resist tracing his fingertip along the curve of Idris’s ear, lips curling into a soft smile. “Of course, Brother is more important.”

And so, Idris successfully coaxed the Zerg—who’d labored tirelessly all day—out of the temporary soothing chamber, willingly guiding him away.

Ray watched them depart, one after the other, and mused inwardly: *Indeed, eight hundred words from others can’t compare to the Major General taking action himself.*

It had taken only minutes—and the man who’d just been so resolute about working had surrendered entirely, stepping out for dinner.

Taking advantage of the wait before their meal, Idris sent Bulan a message:

*Idris: Today’s soothing sessions are complete. Starting tomorrow, limit His Excellency’s daily sessions to forty insects.*

*Bulan: …What gave you the illusion that I could persuade him? You vastly overestimate me.*

Idris glanced at the reply, lowered his gaze, and turned to Samuel.

In just a few short days on B612, Samuel had visibly lost weight. He’d never carried much flesh to begin with; only recently had they managed to put a little more on him—and now he’d reverted to his former gaunt state, even thinner than before.

Idris’s heart ached, truly ached, at the sight.

After dinner, Idris led Samuel off the starship, wandering aimlessly across the barren terrain.

B612 was no beautiful world. Its surface was scarred with craters, and endless gray clouds hung low—dense as a suffocating quilt.

Thanks to that “quilt,” B612 lived under perpetual overcast skies—the sun never touched its soil.

After walking for a while, Samuel tugged Idris back toward the starship. When other soldiers came into view, he reluctantly let go of Idris’s hand.

Sensing a shift in Idris’s mood, Samuel pulled him into an embrace the moment they reentered their quarters. “What’s wrong, Your Excellency?”

Samuel buried his face in Idris’s chest, expression solemn. “Idris—can we apply for official matching as soon as we return to the Imperial Capital Star?”

“Why this sudden thought, Your Excellency?” Idris asked, mildly puzzled. “Did someone say something to you?”

Samuel shook his head.

There was no particular reason. He’d simply realized—once matched, he could hold Idris’s hand openly, without hesitation, and introduce himself to others with legitimacy.

Moreover, he wanted to hear Idris call him by a new title.

Since Samuel offered no further explanation, Idris didn’t press. The two Zerg stood quietly entwined, the very air around them softening—tender, affectionate.

Feeling Samuel’s mood lift slightly, Idris decided to address the issue of Mental Soothing.

“Your Excellency—I reviewed your soothing records from the past few days today. You’ve been conducting sessions far too long each day.” His voice brimmed with concern. “Your Mind Sea remains unstable following your recent secondary differentiation. I’m deeply worried. Could you shorten the sessions starting tomorrow?”

“But the more soldiers with stabilized Mind Seas, the stronger our defenses—right?” Samuel said. “Ray told me the Star Beasts might launch attacks even toward the *end* of the Tide. I want to help Brother more.”

“Your Excellency has already helped immensely,” Idris murmured, kissing Samuel’s hair. “Thanks to your efforts this time, the army suffered far fewer unnecessary casualties—the overall situation is highly favorable. So there’s no need to push yourself so hard. All soldiers with severe mental disturbance have already been soothed. You can take your time with the rest—it’s perfectly fine.”

“Then I’ll follow Brother’s advice—and discuss adjusting the schedule with Bulan tomorrow.” Saying this, Samuel suddenly remembered something. He straightened up, creating a small distance between them. “But since I’m being so obedient—what reward does Brother plan to give me?”

“What reward would Your Excellency like?” Idris asked—his voice rich with tenderness.

Samuel didn't speak, his gaze fixed on Idris's lips, emotions swirling rapidly in his dark eyes.

The male's gaze carried an unconscious intensity, making Idris shift uncomfortably. Ever since their relationship was established, whenever they were alone, Samuel always loved to hold him close, kissing and nibbling on him.

Samuel's kisses were messy and unpracticed; as they went on, his attention would wander—sometimes to his neck, sometimes lingering on his collarbone.

As a result, he now had to fasten his collar tightly; if it loosened even a little, the telltale red marks would show.

Idris took pleasure in it, though it was also a bit of a nuisance.

"Brother, can I bite your neck today?"

Every time Samuel kissed Idris, he was left feeling unsatisfied, as if it wasn't enough, wanting to do something more. But his knowledge in this area was too limited; he couldn't understand why he had become so strange, always wanting to consume him.

Yet Samuel didn't dare say it, afraid Idris would think him weird.

"Your Excellency, the marks from last time haven't faded yet. If you bite again, I won't be able to have the doctor change the bandages tomorrow." Idris helplessly pinched Samuel's cheek. Though his words were a refusal, his voice was indulgent.

Rejected, Samuel instantly wilted. He looked at Idris with a pitiful expression, muttering softly, "But brother, I want to."

Idris had initially been determined to refuse, but as soon as Samuel put on that pitiful act, his heart softened.

With a sigh, Idris told Samuel to wait and got up to go to the bathroom. When he returned, he had already bathed and dried his hair.

Pulling Samuel to sit by the bed, Idris loosely tied up his hair. A few strands clung to his fair neck, beside which were faint red marks. "Your Excellency, don't bite too hard, or tomorrow you'll have to apply the medicine yourself."

"Mhm, mhm!" With permission granted, Samuel's eyes instantly lit up. He eagerly embraced him, who still carried the lingering dampness from his bath, and leaned in.

The moist air, mixed with a faint fragrance, drifted into his nostrils. Samuel got his wish, but his body grew more and more restless.

Instinctively, he pressed the other onto the bed, no longer limiting himself to the neck and collarbone. He moved downward, avoiding the injured areas, lingering over his chest.

"Mmm."

"Your Excellency, don't bite."

Hearing Idris's voice from above him, Samuel couldn't help but bite again.

At times like these, Idris's voice would become soft and lilting.

It sounded very pleasant.

Samuel liked it a lot.

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Author's Note: Everyone, remember to stay warm lately. Don't change out of your thick clothes too quickly, or you might catch a cold like I did. [sobbing][sobbing]

Late update as usual, everyone remember to leave comments—there will be red packets.

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Stellar Calendar 4056, October X, Cloudy, Weekday X

Why do I feel like I'm too easygoing?

Your Excellency is adorable.