Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Yor was caught between laughter and tears: "The one in my belly is already draining me dry—there's no way I could raise another lord."

Besides, he had entered Leonius's mental sea before. The gap between a lord and an ordinary bug was so vast they might as well be different species—no amount of honey could bridge that.

Lima shook his head as well: "A lord's birth is a response to the whole clan. It's not that simple."

But as for how it actually happened, even ordinary bugs had no idea.

Lima glanced down at Yor's belly. That egg was probably... going to be a real handful.

Taste paced back and forth anxiously, circling twice: "Then what do we do?"

He'd thought reaching Sub-Lord level would be enough for Yor, but... his pheromones had been drained dry. Yor wasn't in pain anymore, but his pheromone deficiency didn't seem much better either.

Yor reached up and touched Lima's forehead: "How's your mental strength? I have an idea—let me show you."

Lima lowered his head, pressing his forehead to Yor's, and closed his eyes for a moment: "Mm, I'm ready."

Taste crouched nearby, watching helplessly as Yor pressed forehead-to-forehead with that frail-looking male bug, with no idea what they were saying.

After a moment, Lima looked understanding and approving.

Taste was about to ask what they'd said when Lima leaned down, kissed Yor's forehead, and set him down: "I'll go prepare now. I'll come pick you up in the evening."

Yor nodded: "Thanks for the trouble."

.....

A kind of atmosphere and unspoken understanding he couldn't break into at all.

And he couldn't even get mad about it—this bug named Lima was off doing Yor's errands.

Taste crouched in the corner, hugging his knees, his face falling like a kicked puppy. He'd become a Sub-Lord, and he was still the most useless of them all.

And that Lima—he was already at the door, then turned back to look at Taste and said: "Let Yor rest. He's very tired."

With such a gentle demeanor, as if Taste were the one who'd wear Yor out again.

God, so infuriating.

Yor watched him, wanting to laugh but unable to.

He closed his eyes and slowly relaxed in the ship's dimmed light, his breathing gradually deepening and evening out.

High above Taste's ship, a bug figure hovered silently in the sky.

Menacing elytra, iron-gray eyes.

It was Leonius.

He folded his elytra slightly, staring straight at the ship, as if he could see through the metal hull to the person inside.

His iron-gray eyes showed bewilderment and pain. "...He's afraid of me."

He'd originally taken the rescue mission personally because of the Serian clan, but on the eve of departure, he'd felt a call from his bloodline...

He'd rushed to the rescue site at top speed, wiped out every Serian in the star systems around Vorna, then expanded his patrol range, thoroughly cleaning the area to make sure nothing was left. Only then did he follow the pull of that newborn consciousness in his mental sea, tracing it all the way to this spot.

When he arrived, he'd heard Taste spouting off inside the ship... saying he'd kill Leonius, take his place, become lord.

Dexter followed behind him and, hearing those words, immediately dropped to his knees to beg for mercy for Taste. Leonius raised a hand to stop him, took Dexter up into the sky, and watched the ship from afar, not getting any closer.

At that moment, he'd also felt Yor's terror directly—the instant the mental link connected, that trembling surged over him like deep water, drowning him completely.

The wind up here carried a deep chill, but Leonius showed no sign of descending. He... hadn't figured out how to approach yet.

In there was his child—the next lord of the War Department, the next hope. No amount of caution was too much.

Let him think a bit longer.

By nightfall, Lima came back and brought Yor to the mining grounds.

During the day, the auction at the mining grounds had already been held.

The talk had gone smoothly. Lima had spoken with the bug in charge, explaining that after learning about the miners' need for mental support, Yor had decided not to accompany a single male bug this time, but to do an overall mental cleansing.

The auction wouldn't be canceled, though—three slots would be auctioned off, plus an extra one for Herman, making four bugs total as the top priority for the cleansing.

The miners naturally had no objections. An overall mental cleansing sounded way more worthwhile than so many bugs fighting over one slot—and besides, the honey-card effect at the mining grounds had already spread the word across the whole area. If there were only one slot, the competition would've been insane.

Both sides were in perfect agreement.

The bug in charge went all out, spending heavily to upgrade the defense system to its highest level. No one had to stay on duty—everyone could attend the cleansing.

At the appointed time, a crowd of male bugs packed into the biggest mine cavern.

The cavern was pitch black. Even with male bug vision, it was hard to see clearly—only a vague dark passage at the far end, winding down to who knew where.

With Lima beside him, Yor stood deep in the passage and took a deep breath.

He'd written himself a script in his mind. To get the best effect, he'd even planted a suggestion in himself, letting "Ling Yue" step into the background for now, leaving only the character from the script—a little broodmother.

He heard the noisy, excited, expectant voices outside and nodded at Lima. "Let's begin."

Lima's voice was as gentle as ever: "Don't worry. Leave it to me."

A wisp of broodmother pheromone drifted out—so faint, like an ultra-thin thread, guided by mental strength to coil around a lamp at the cavern's ceiling.

The light dimmed. The scent drifted outward.

An extremely faint wisp, carrying a scent that hooked into the hearts of bugs, lingering tantalizingly at the edge of every male bug's sense of smell.

The packed miners fell silent for a moment. After a strange daze, some bugs shook their heads, as if something in their heads had been gently nudged.

"Why... are we all packed in here?" a bug whispered.

No one answered.

The cavern lit up at some point—a soft, moonlight-like glow seeping slowly from deep in the passage.

From deep in the cavern, a bug suddenly shouted: "I dug up a broodmother!!!"

His voice cracked with excitement: "A broodmother!!! I dug up a broodmother!!!"

The entire cavern seemed to ignite. Every bug erupted into chaos.

A broodmother!

A broodmother, gone for so many years!

It was actually the War Department that dug it up!

From the depths of the tunnel, a blurry bug silhouette slowly emerged.

He held in his arms a half-person-sized egg, its surface caked with mining mud and mixed with damp moss.

No bug stopped to question how absurd it was to dig up a Broodmother egg from underground—their eyes were all fixed on that egg.

Where the mud hadn't covered it, the shell gleamed with a faint golden hue. Though somewhat dull and mottled, in the dim mine tunnel, it still shone like a warm, lustrous gem, radiating a glow that entranced bugs.

A healthy egg should pulse slowly, like a heartbeat.

But this Broodmother egg's rise and fall was so faint it was almost imperceptible.

The miners grew anxious, murmuring in low voices about what to do.

"Pheromones—the Broodmother needs male pheromones," a voice from somewhere suggested hesitantly. "Maybe she has particular preferences. Take turns releasing your pheromones and see which one she likes."

Right! Let's see which one she likes!

The miners became the most obedient soldiers in the world once more, lining up in neat rows, circling the egg one by one, getting closer each time, carefully releasing their pheromones, then stepping back to make room for the next row.

When most bugs approached, the egg showed no reaction at all.

Until it was the turn of those four... the paying customers—the shell gave a faint glow, as if something had stirred it.

The miners erupted in excitement. "It's definitely these four! The Broodmother likes their smell!"

They quickly agreed: the other bugs would prepare a nest for the Broodmother, gathering the softest cattail fluff, the warmest velvet, and the shiniest ores to decorate it with;

These four would focus on accompanying the Broodmother, taking turns guarding the egg, channeling pheromones and communicating with her through mental energy—not a single day off.

Under their care, the Broodmother's egg changed every day.

The shell went from mottled to glossy, from glossy to translucent, as if something inside was slowly growing. Even through the shell, you could see vague shadows of light drifting.

The miners came every day, and each day some bug would press against the shell to listen.

One day, they discovered a thin crack running across the shell.

A second, a third...

The Broodmother was about to break out of her shell.

The news spread across the whole mine, and all the bugs flooded in, hauling defensive gear and supplies, surrounding the mine tunnel in a tight, unbreakable circle.

They watched the egg tensely, seeing the cracks spread and widen bit by bit. The shell shook gently.

Another shake.

*Crack*—a small piece of shell fell off, revealing a thin, see-through membrane underneath.

Then a tiny hand... so small, with fingers so delicate they worried it couldn't tear through the membrane.

But he was obviously smart. He tore a hole in the membrane, then reached through and grabbed the edge of the shell.

The whole mine tunnel held its breath at that moment.

That little hand pounded once, then again, each strike hitting the hearts of every male bug.

The males were frantic, aching to tear the shell open for him, but their bodies didn't dare move an inch, terrified of scaring the Broodmother as she struggled.

Finally, the shell smashed open, splitting in two and crumbling apart.

And there was the Broodmother.

Not the magnificent youth they'd imagined, but... a kid of four or five.

The Broodmother's eyes were closed, skin as pale as a freshly shelled egg, body covered in a thin layer of slime, trembling slightly.

He opened his eyes—not compound eyes like other bugs, but round, slightly wet, baby eyes. He looked at the males packed in front of him, seemed startled, shrank back, then tilted his head curiously.

"...By the Broodmother above," someone whispered.

Everyone started breathing again.

The Broodmother wasn't grown up yet, but that didn't matter! They had a Broodmother!

A real, live, moving, head-tilting Broodmother!

As long as they fed her well, why worry about her not growing up?

And look at how she stared at them with such curiosity—so cute! So pretty!

That was the Broodmother!!!

The days that followed went by fast.

Every day, the miners would fight over who got to feed the Broodmother, find her the cutest little clothes and shoes, and dig out the prettiest ores and cattail fluff to line her nest.

Some bugs took her flying to see the stars.

She lay on a male bug's broad back, her tiny hands clutching the edges of his elytra, the wind messing up her hair. She wasn't scared—she just tilted her face up at the dense river of stars overhead, letting out short, bright giggles now and then.

Some bugs took her exploring the deep underground tunnels.

The depths were brighter than expected, with fine mineral crystals in the walls like scattered stardust. The male set her down, took her hand, and told her which ores had the strongest energy and which could be ground into blades. She nodded at everything he said, her eyes sparkling.

In the evenings, she would sit quietly in the laps of her four favorite bugs, smiling with her brows curved. "I love war bugs the most! When I grow up, I'll give you tons and tons of cute bug babies just like me! And of course, I'll give the four of you the most!"

The males grinned from ear to ear, and the four paying customers would have given her their lives.

Life was peaceful and happy.

The Broodmother never threw a fit about going outside. When the males said, "It's dangerous outside the mine—don't run off," she would nod and say, "Okay."

They made the nest more and more fancy, warmer and warmer, watching the Broodmother grow a little taller each day, their hearts swelling with the thought, "We're bugs with a Broodmother now!"

Until one day, bugs from the Purification Department came to the mine to check the mechanical limbs.

The war bugs hid the Broodmother away, deep and safe.

But the sneaky pure bugs had long noticed that these war bugs' mental energy was unnaturally healthy—so stable, so full, so smooth. They must have found some treasure!

The pure bugs pretended to check the equipment, but secretly, they sent a squad that circled around to the nest and sprayed a colorless, odorless mist inside.

The guards dropped silently.

Inside the nest, the Broodmother only had a single second to link with the war bugs outside, and through the mental link came just one word: "SAVE!!!"

Then it snapped apart.

The war bugs went berserk.

They cranked their prepped defensive gear to max and managed to hold back the vile pure bugs.

Herman was the first to charge in.

He always felt like he'd lived through this before—last time... last time he'd failed. This time, he absolutely could not fail!!

He planted himself in front of the Broodmother, taking the Purification Department bugs' second wave head-on. His new mechanical leg exploded with power way past its limits, even as agony ripped through him.

He felt something deep in his mental sea get shoved at the very last second.

The world blazed white—he'd broken through, become a Sub-Lord.

And because of that breakthrough, he tore through the Purification Department bugs one by one and dragged the Broodmother out of that chemical fog.

This time, he'd done it.

But when they finally got the Broodmother back, she was in bad shape.

Her tiny body was curled into a tight ball, her little coat—the one they'd just put on her—caked in dirt.

Her eyes were shut, completely still. Gone was the way she'd tilt her head and stare at them, curious, gone was that soft voice that crinkled her eyes and said, "I'll make you lots of little bug babies."

She lay there, one tiny hand on the ground, fingertips pale blue-white, her breathing so faint you could barely tell she was breathing.

"Everyone, get over here!!"

Herman's voice was wrecked, barely recognizable. "The Broodmother needs pheromones!!!"

All the war bugs, acting on instinct, shifted into their true forms.

Silver-gray, iron-black, deep-brown insect bodies packed the mine shaft. Elytra spread wide, pheromones flooding out of every mental sea.

No effort needed—their instinctive need to protect the Broodmother unleashed a flood of pheromones.

After what felt like both a second and an eternity, that curled little hand finally moved.

Yor opened his eyes.

His script ended here. To keep things from getting too R-rated, he'd deliberately used his kid form, making the Broodmother a juvenile.

And yeah, it worked—the males got peace in their mental seas, he got a ton of pheromones, and now, as payback, he'd do a mental cleanse for all of them.

He nodded at Lima, then let go of the domain bug anchoring this constructed world, spread his mental power, and reconnected to the males' mental links.

Warm, heavy, anxious and tender—their mental power and consciousness surged into him, endless. Just like in the star cruiser's med bay, he reached out to them with his mental power. But then something unexpected happened... the war bugs didn't just wait quietly.

Nobody knew who started it, but suddenly a strange elytra-friction frequency rose up among them—like metal barely brushing metal—low, long, like some ancient hum from deep in the earth.

One beat. Another. Then another.

Slowly, all of them joined in, rubbing their elytra at that same frequency.

Yor went still.

That frequency came back through the mental links like a warm tide, seeping layer by layer into his mental sea, sinking deep into his body.

The gestational sac—which had always greedily drained his energy, weighing him down—was soothed for the first time. Not forced down. "Caught."

The sharp edges of the Broodmother genes always invading him were slowly smoothed away by this gentle, all-encompassing comfort.

Yor floated in that warm comfort, feeling his body truly, completely relax for the first time.

No pain, no weight—like the thin thread that had been constricting his chest had finally snapped.

On the night of Vorna, the stars filled the sky.

In the mine shaft, the Broodmother's insect markings flickered faintly across her skin—patterns that should have been fierce and jagged, now perfectly blended into her warm flesh, harmonious as if they had always been there.

Around the Broodmother, circle after circle of male bugs lay prostrate on the ground, having endured what should have been an agonizing, skin-stripping, bone-grinding evolution, their mental seas and insect bodies reborn anew.

The Broodmother, experiencing peace for the first time, and the male bugs who wanted nothing but her health, together sank into a quiet slumber.

Leonius hovered high above, gazing down at the mine entrance glowing with warm yellow light below.

He did not approach.

He caught a faint trace of a scent—Yor's—a tranquil aura utterly devoid of fear, anxiety, or pain.

His fingers curled slightly, as if wanting to reach out, but then suddenly relaxed. He turned to Dexter and said, "...Go to the domain clan."

Dexter was stunned: "But... Yor is..."

Leonius had already turned away, his elytra spreading slightly in the starlight: "He cannot see me yet. That's fine—I will wait until he is ready." He paused, his voice dropping lower. "If I appear now, I would only be a burden to him."

Dexter watched his retreating back, not immediately following.

But... if he went down to see Yor himself, Yor would likely immediately guess that the Lord had also arrived. He glanced once toward the mine entrance, then turned and caught up with the Lord's pace.

==========Author's Note:==========

Ah, I really like Leonius myself—I can't bear to keep writing.

By the way, if it's convenient, could you help click "Follow" on my author page? It seems to boost the work's points and nudge it a bit higher on the natural ranking. Thanks for the trouble!