Chapter 430

Chapter 430

Alan watched the young people behind him. He heard the sharp wails mixed into the insectoid shrieks and slowly began to smile. His eyes were almost too bright, and his smile was somewhat unsettling.

He knew the secret of the Rift couldn't stay hidden any longer.

"See that? That kind of slaughtering technique is beyond anything humans could imagine. You can't even imagine what kind of environment they survived in."

Someone muttered, not buying it. "If their living conditions are so bad, why don't they apply to immigrate? They had a choice."

"Because they like it. They like slaughtering bug-kind, they like their kids growing up around them, they like the thrill of getting ripped apart if they mess up even once. Happy now? Does that answer work for you?"

The sarcasm in his voice was getting pretty obvious. Beside him, Sadel gently nudged his shoulder with his own.

"Sorry, I got a little too excited."

Alan took a deep breath. Ever since he'd figured out what was coming, he'd been genuinely pumped. That excitement, toned down by his personality, wasn't super obvious, but he was definitely not his usual self.

He couldn't help wanting to drag out everything he'd buried deep since joining the military's inner circle—those secrets, those sights, all that blood—and throw it in everyone's faces.

Like Sadel with his over-the-top pride, he also looked down on this stolen glory. He just wasn't as stubborn about it; he found it easier to accept his own flaws. But clearly, he was still happy to see the big shots who played with people's lives finally get what they deserved.

When Alan turned back around, the small swarm that had been closing in fast was almost completely wiped out.

Ye Mo stomped on the insectoid's carcass and leaped again toward the one in front of him. But this time, he didn't make a move—instead, he pulled the sword he'd swung back behind him and just let himself drop.

With that pause, the insectoid's fangs were already inches from him. From behind, Ye Mo was right in range of that serrated mouth, like a bloody guillotine about to come down.

The crowd gasped, but it couldn't take another step. Its vicious charge froze right there.

Fiona appeared above. One hand grabbed the insectoid's upper jaw, forcing it shut. Her sword was under her feet—she'd already jammed it into the creature's skull before she even landed.

Ye Mo landed lightly, sheathing his sword with a sharp click.

Alva, off to the side, let out a relieved breath. He'd honestly thought Ye Mo had messed up just now—he'd seen way too many comrades get ripped apart by insectoids.

Fiona jumped down right after, followed by a dozen or so soldiers.

Someone took over Alva's position, and he hurried over to Ye Mo.

The fight was over, and the crowd went quiet.

"That's all just hand-to-hand fighting? These are the natives we're supposed to be helping? Honestly, I don't think they need our help at all."

"Feels way more efficient than starship bombing. We should seriously think about paying protection money—let's negotiate. Skip the hostage thing, can we just pay up directly?"

"I get the feeling they're not really space pirates. Think about that hidden planet coordinate—this probably isn't so simple."

"Maybe. They could be the underdogs, or they might have their own deep reasons. In any other situation, I'd speak up for them, defend their rights. But pulling crap while our soldiers are fighting insectoids—that's really hard for me to forgive."

The footage suddenly shook. The audience just heard the cameraman curse under his breath, and by the time it steadied, the camera had swung in another direction.

Several soldiers Fiona had brought were coming over, with a dozen or so middle-aged men in formal wear being escorted in the middle, stumbling along as they tried to keep up.

Whispers rippled through the crowd.

"I recognize that—the fat guy is the head of this logistics planet. Did they just wipe out the whole command center?"

"No wonder there's barely any warships in the sky, and no sounds of fighting either. Just surrender already. They said they'd get us out of here, right? They'll do it, won't they? Otherwise they wouldn't have saved us when the swarm showed up. When do we get to leave?"

Some of the civilians who'd armed themselves started stripping off their gear and throwing their guns on the ground. The only ones still holding weapons now were the military academy instructors and students.

Alan's gaze shifted over too. One glance was enough—any official with any real rank was probably all there. No chance of turning this around.

"Sadel, we can rest now."

Sadel slung his jacket over his shoulder, looking relaxed. "Yeah."

He lowered his voice. "Will they get the honor they deserve?"

Alan lowered his voice too, so low that even Sadel next to him had to strain to hear. "Maybe. But winners get everything—even if it's despicable, it becomes wise, decisive, praiseworthy. At that point, no stain is a stain anymore."

As soon as he said it, he grabbed his hair in frustration.

"God, why am I telling you this? Anyway, Sadel—the people at the very top decide the world and make the waves, but not us. People like us just go with the flow, pick the side that makes things a bit easier. You get that? I really don't know where the hell your damn pride comes from. It's going to eat you alive one day."

"I joined the military to protect humanity and drive out the insectoids—not to oppress another group of people and steal their honor. You chose the harder path too, didn't you? I thought that's why you came here."

"Maybe a little. But mainly my family arranged for me to pad my resume. You know, my family has a gap in the military branch."

Sadel looked up. "They arranged for you to come to the front too?"

Alan paused, then after a few seconds said, "That's the 'little' part I mentioned. I was actually getting pretty sick of them always arranging things for me."

Then he couldn't keep the expression on his face anymore and broke into a slightly smug grin. "You have no idea how many calls from my parents and my brothers and sisters I've ignored."

...

Fiona had barely landed before she hurried over, pulling Ye Mo's head into her arms. She kissed his forehead, stroking the back of his neck affectionately—a sensitive move that controlled a vital spot. But Ye Mo was used to it. Like a little kitten, he closed his eyes and pressed his head into her hand.

She still carried a hint of bloodlust, her mental energy buzzing excitedly around her, but she was warm. "You got here fast. I was just wondering when they'd bring you over..."

She paused, sensing something wrong. The time was too short—not even enough to reach the other side. She cupped Ye Mo's chin, a little incredulous. "Did you come with us?"

Ye Mo blinked nervously. "Theodore said I could come."

Theodore peeked out from between Ye Mo and Fiona's embrace, grabbing onto Ye Mo's shoulder, and took the blame willingly. "Yes. My calculations were flawless."

"Oh, you two."

Fiona wiped a trace of blood from Ye Mo's cheek with her thumb, frowning. "And you're hurt? Ambrose is going to be upset. He's not as easygoing as I am."

She didn't want Ye Mo to dislike her, so she conveniently brought up Ambrose—and the effect was immediate.

Ye Mo's fluffy little lion mane seemed to droop. Theodore squeezed out again, pressing his paw onto Ye Mo's head, hugging him seriously. "It's fine, don't be scared. According to my calculations, the probability of Ambrose being angry is low. Even if he is, the probability of him hitting you is infinitely close to zero. Cyril."

Alva stood nearby, pouring fuel on the fire, trying to escalate the situation. "Ambrose is indeed a bit upset. And just now, you got distracted mid-battle and stopped so easily."

Fiona, surprisingly, showed extraordinary leniency toward this—even delight. She kissed the top of Ye Mo's head again. "That's fine, Alva. He stopped because he saw me—he trusts me. Cyril, let it slide this time. Don't be so reckless next time."

Alva choked on his words. These Graths—he should have known.

Ye Mo's head shot up.

"Really? Fiona, you're the best. I was a little worried about getting scolded by Ambrose."

Fiona was in a great mood, wrapping an arm around Ye Mo as she walked inside. "If Ambrose gets angry, I'll hold him back. He's too controlling—that's not great."

She'd been a bit startled at first, but once she thought it through, she felt it was good that Cyril was here. They hadn't known the situation outside before they left him there. Now, looking at it, it was hard to say which side was more dangerous—after all, there were far fewer insectoids here than there, and the people they'd met weren't much of a threat either.

A rumble came from the sky above, and several people looked up as warships came in from the port above, then headed straight off in one direction.

But just two seconds later, Fiona relaxed, pressing her arm down on Ye Mo with a little force. "They're heading toward Shalom—that's Belinda and the others coming back. Once we're done dealing with everyone here, we'll head over."

She turned her head, scanning the crowd like a lioness watching a herd of wildebeests, her psychic energy on full display, cutting through the air like a sharp blade, stirring unease and making the crowd shift restlessly.

Viewers across the galactic net were buzzing with excitement.

"That's the one who burst into the frame earlier—took down a bug in one hit, so badass!"

"Quick! Give her a special enlistment into the military, and the kid next to her too—can start at the academy right away."

"Why do I get the feeling she's more aggressive than the others? Pirates can't be trusted, and our people are still over there—kidnapping an official that high up makes it even worse."

"That kid's young, so the sentence'll definitely be lighter. Besides, special talent gets special treatment."

The crowd on-site didn't have time for such thoughts; they were hit head-on by Fiona's violent psychic pressure, and Alan and Sadel instinctively tensed up.

The soldiers around them felt Fiona's killing intent too. They'd been like sheepdogs, watching the perimeter, loosely guarding the crowd, but now they turned like a pack of hunting wolves, sizing up the people.

Alva stood at Fiona's side, saying nothing, just bowing his head slightly.

Ye Mo looked up at Fiona, and she, snapping back to herself, ran her other hand through his hair. He squinted one eye at the touch and said, "Fiona, Ambrose said to send them away from here."

Fiona paused, but quickly said, "Of course, Cyril, we've got more important things to do."

Then, as if to prove a point, she looked at the crowd gathered like sheep, raised her arm, and signaled the soldiers around her, "Take them all to the docking area, and once the shuttles are free, send them on their way."

The suffocating, frozen atmosphere finally broke. The soldiers relaxed again, no longer eyeing the crowd like beasts sizing up prey, and instead guided them toward the docking area.

The crowd relaxed too. Alan let out a long breath, and as he turned, his gaze flicked over Ye Mo for a moment before moving on. He hadn't missed what Ye Mo did earlier, and he exchanged a glance with Sadel—that kid seemed to have more pull than they'd thought.

Fiona patted Ye Mo on the back. "Cyril, go join Shalom."

Ye Mo hesitated. "Is Yisang there too?"

Theodore, perched on his shoulder, gave Ye Mo's ear a quick lick. "It's okay, Cyril, don't be scared. I'll talk to him properly."

Fiona added, "Shalom's there; I'll have him keep an eye on Yisang."

Fiona waved a hand, signaling a nearby soldier to escort Ye Mo to Shalom.

Alva didn't follow right away. "Cyril's gone far."

Fiona brushed her hair back. "I know. I'm not about to defy Ambrose's orders. Be patient, Alva, there'll be a chance."

Alva's gaze fell on the sword at Fiona's side; the blade was still trembling slightly. Fiona was way too excited.

He looked away. He'd never intended to do anything—that remark was less about reassuring Alva and more about Fiona trying to convince herself.

Alva had just started to follow when he saw Ye Mo, who'd walked off, come running back. He slammed into Fiona's chest like a little cannonball, grabbed the blade of her sword, and instinctively released his psychic energy, winding it around the tip, intertwining his own with Fiona's.

Fiona was used to Ye Mo's psychic energy by now; she relaxed a little, until she sensed his energy trying to get into her psychic domain.

That was a dangerous move—her energy would strike back without a second thought, devouring any intruder.

She jerked her head down to look at Ye Mo, but in that instant, his energy had already slipped into her seething, burning psychic domain.

There was no rejection, no other sensation. Her domain, which burned like an eternal fire, accepted Ye Mo's energy as if it were its own, and that energy flowed like receding tides, like a spring breeze sweeping over barren land, washing away every scorch mark and every ember in its path.

"Feeling a bit better?"

Fiona's thoughts ground to a halt, and she let out a mechanical "Mm."

Ye Mo withdrew quickly—it was impolite, after all. Besides Norton, he rarely entered others' psychic domains unless they asked, like Arnold sometimes did. He nuzzled lightly against Fiona's neck. "See you later, then, Fiona."

Ye Mo slipped out of her arms and took off again.

Alva followed, not noticing the subtle shift, only sensing that Fiona had calmed down a lot.

Theodore flicked his tail, sounding a bit serious. "I wouldn't advise doing that again."

At this stage, the Graths were nearly all overextended, and by his calculations, Ye Mo had a sixty-seven percent chance of not being able to handle that much strain.

Ye Mo gave his back a little boost, muttering quietly, "Won't do it again—I know it was a bit rude."