Chapter 438

Chapter 438

Ye Mo complied without resistance with Ambrose's arrangement, remaining obediently at his side.

But anyone could see that he had grown preoccupied. Before they left the old territory, too many things had surrounded him—even the wind carried the scent of blood, leaving no room for a moment's hesitation. His mind was consumed with how he could contribute, with no time to think, only instinct driving him to draw his sword.

Now that things had calmed down, the anxieties and hidden worries buried deep in his heart surfaced, creeping through his chest.

He sat on the windowsill, watching warships constantly coming and going from the port in the sky. Theodore sat on Ye Mo's shoulder, carefully smoothing his hair strand by strand. Theodore loved this form—the closeness between cat and human was far greater than between two humans, and it was something Ye Mo found easier to accept. At least now Cyril wouldn't refuse when he groomed his fur, though that wasn't true when he was in human form.

Theodore pressed his ears back in contentment, carefully untangling the hair the wind had tousled.

Ye Mo tilted his head slightly to make it easier for him.

"Theodore, the future has changed."

Yisang was still alive.

Ye Mo's gaze dropped to the ground dozens of meters below. "Can we still return?"

Theodore's movements slowed. He didn't give data as he usually would, only looked at Ye Mo. It was only after a moment that he realized—the reason Ye Mo had been smiling less these days wasn't just because Ambrose kept him close.

Ye Mo turned his head to meet Theodore's gaze, choosing his words. "Theodore always seems strong, never weak. Theodore could live well anywhere, right?"

Unlike him. Ye Mo turned his head again, staring at the ground below.

But Theodore kept watching him. For once, he stopped calculating. He didn't respond through his emotion module, but stumbled over his words to describe his true feelings, almost abandoning logic, desperate to lay himself completely bare before Ye Mo.

"I'm not strong, Cyril. For a long time, I wanted many things, but the only thing I could do was watch. It made me anxious—at least, I think it was anxiety. My error rate in calculations rose significantly. I didn't understand. But now, staying by your side makes me more efficient. But it's not that I want to be more efficient..."

Ye Mo listened patiently. Theodore rarely appeared so clumsy. Emotions could be calculated too—Theodore usually used his emotion module to react to situations and seem more human. Without it, his true self constantly gave off an inhuman quality.

But now he was rambling like a child just learning to speak, clumsy at describing things—actually cuter than the persona he usually put on. And what he said was endearing too.

So Ye Mo set aside his own sorrow and anxiety for the moment, teasing him with a hint of mischief. "I see. So it's not that you want to be more efficient—you just like being by my side."

Theodore's rambling abruptly stopped. Ye Mo slowly let his smile fade, looking at him with slight confusion.

The little robot gazed at his Cyril through the cat's eyes.

"I like being by your side. If there's anything that makes me strong, it's that I'm still with you right now."

His mechanical heart was filled entirely with Ye Mo.

Ye Mo made him weak, but also made him strong.

But he overlooked that Ye Mo's chest held a warm heart, one that had carried so much since the moment it was born.

But no matter how powerful an AI's calculating ability, it couldn't calculate the mysteries of time.

And so, the life made of zeros and ones, ignoring the rows of numbers it had calculated, learned to lie without a teacher. "We'll go back. I'll bring you home. I promise."

He repeated, "I promise, Cyril."

This made Ye Mo smile again. "Mm, we'll go home."

"Go back to where?"

Ye Mo turned his head, unsurprised, looking at Karlia not far away. Alan and Sadel were beside him—Ye Mo had sensed them the moment they approached.

Thanks to their cooperation, they had recently been granted some freedom to move around, though they still couldn't leave the building. The few of them had silently started moving together.

But Ye Mo hadn't spoken much with them, and hadn't expected them to start a conversation.

Alan sighed, watching Karlia approach Ye Mo, his eyes full of a desire to leave. He was a bit curious about Ye Mo, but he didn't want trouble, and being near such a fierce beast was unsettling. Sadel stood off to the side, indifferent—as long as he didn't have to fight pointless battles, he was usually in a decent mood.

Karlia walked up to Ye Mo. "Going back to the Rift? That's not exactly a great place to live. Though for you, maybe it doesn't matter?"

Hidden in the crowd, he had once seen Ye Mo move gracefully, like dancing among several massive insectoids.

Ye Mo didn't answer, only said warily, "Elijah said the negotiations went smoothly. You'll be able to return soon."

Karlia didn't mind Ye Mo's cold attitude. He bent down slightly, following Ye Mo's gaze.

"He probably finalized things with Tansan a few days ago. That was around when I was first allowed to move around nearby."

Karlia straightened up and extended his hand. "I hope next time we meet, it can be as comrades. Or friends, if you want."

Ye Mo glanced at his outstretched hand, but didn't answer or move.

Until another voice spoke. "Cyril."

Yisang stood at the end of the corridor. His uniform had inconspicuous dark stains, and there was a fresh, still-red thin wound under his eye. He looked like he had just gotten back and come straight over.

He said flatly, "Come here."

Ye Mo nimbly swung over the windowsill and went to him without hesitation.

A few seconds later, Karlia watched Ye Mo's retreating back and withdrew his hand.

Only after both figures disappeared did Karlia lower his head, looking at his own hand, a little confused. "I thought I was good at making friends."

Alan rolled his eyes behind him. The little prince probably only needed one look to get people to follow him. Sadel offered seriously, "Maybe it's the environment. Everyone's on edge during wartime."

Karlia looked up again, at the spot where Ye Mo had vanished. "I'll try somewhere else next time."

Someone like that—having him as an enemy would be terrifying.

...

Yisang roughly put his hand on the back of Ye Mo's neck, stroking his hair the wrong way.

"Is that what Ambrose taught you? Letting you sit out on the window?"

Ye Mo found it a bit odd. He'd been to much higher places before, and since the warship landed safely, jumping from heights had been a required course under Grath. Now Yisang himself often couldn't wait and would leap down from warships still entering the port. "It's no big deal."

Yisang tsked. "Lika used to play like that when he was little. Fell from high up and cracked his head. Look at him now—still a bit slow, not too bright."

Theodore, squeezed aside, angrily swatted his hand with his paw. "Even if he cracked his head, Cyril is still the smartest! He gets perfect scores on every exam!"

Ye Mo let out an "ah" and started feeling guilty.

Luckily, Yisang quickly moved on. He pulled a handful of colorful gems from his pocket and stuffed them into Ye Mo's, making it bulge. "Here, play with these."

Ye Mo felt the pocket, took out a few stones, thought for a moment, and didn't refuse. "Thanks, Yisang."

Yisang hummed in satisfaction, smoothing down his hair. "I found these special. Try channeling your spiritual energy into them."

Ye Mo lowered his head, picked a light blue one, and slowly wrapped his mental energy around it. The gem changed accordingly, with streaks of deep blue appearing inside, like ink dripping into water.

"A gem that shows traces of mental energy—fun, right? You can mold it into any shape you like, and it helps you practice controlling your mental energy."

The streaks of deep blue eventually coalesced into the image of a small lion.

"Ethan, look, this is for you."

Ethan paused for a moment, then clenched the gem in his hand. "Not bad. I can set this into my sword hilt later."

After handing the first one to Ethan, Ye Mo eagerly poured his mental energy into the other gems one by one.

The two soon arrived at the hall where Ambrose was waiting.

"Wait here for me. I'll go see Ambrose and be right back."

He took a couple of steps forward, then turned back. "For now, unless Ambrose calls for you, stay away from him."

Ye Mo looked up, hesitated for a moment, but in the end, didn't ask why.

A few minutes later, Ethan came out looking grim. He picked up Theodore from Ye Mo's arms and said, "Ambrose wants you."

Ye Mo tucked the few gems back into his pocket and hurried inside, the gems clinking together with a sharp sound.

He stopped as soon as he entered. Only Ambrose was in the hall, seated up high with his eyes closed. The lights were off, leaving the space dim.

For a split second, Ye Mo thought he saw the Norton from the past.

Ambrose shifted in his seat and reached out a hand toward Ye Mo. The word "come" hadn't even left his lips before Ye Mo had already placed his hand in Ambrose's.

"Tomorrow you leave here with Elijah. Fiona got her hands on a beautiful planet, and the location is perfect."

Elijah wasn't much of a fighter, so wherever he was tended to be the safest place in the rear.

Ye Mo frowned.

Ambrose looked at him and smoothed down the hair Ethan had messed up. "Grow up fast, Cyril. Get big enough to protect yourself."

Ye Mo looked at him. "Aren't you going to protect me?"

Ambrose pressed his hand down on Ye Mo's head, pushing it down gently so Ye Mo couldn't meet his eyes.

"What a little sweet-talker, Cyril. I'd love to, but I can't watch over you forever. When I'm not looking at you, if you're not strong, I'll be on edge. So for my peace of mind, work hard."

...

Arnold habitually stepped around the sword embedded diagonally in the hall floor. It was a casualty of Norton's rampage, which had left the walls and floor in ruins.

"Brother, these just came from the old warehouse we opened."

Arnold made no effort to hide his restlessness. He set down the box he was carrying and, in a way that would make collectors and historians cringe, dumped its contents roughly onto the floor.

The warehouse had just been opened and was being cataloged, with plans to move everything here. He couldn't wait for it to be sorted out, so he grabbed a few things and came straight over.

A pile of swords lay on the ground, most of them dull and long since dead.

A few among them had kept their color, likely never activated before better materials and techniques came along to forge new blades.

The Graths had no concept of keeping things out of sentiment or keeping them as mementos. Even the reason they didn't reuse their ancestors' swords but sealed them away in the warehouse was practical—their mental energy was too overpowering to easily merge with another's.

In rare cases, usually when resources were scarce, a Grath would willingly hand over their sword to another Grath, typically from one generation to the next. The original owner would gradually guide it with their mental energy, and the sword would prolong its life, shining anew under the next generation's mental energy.

But it was a painful process for both parties and far too troublesome. Unless there was no other choice, no Grath would try to take up another's sword.

Norton, seated up high, raised a hand, and the pile of swords lifted into the air, hovering.

He waved again, and the first few thrust into the surrounding walls, followed by several more.

Norton examined them one by one with his mental energy, searching for any clue. Yinghui had already been thoroughly examined.

Arnold lingered only a moment before turning to head back and grab more.

Norton suddenly stood up. One sword drifted forward on its own, stopping in front of him, its hilt set with a blue gem.