Chapter 55

Chapter 55

Leonius's starship had limited space, but the Domain Bug homeworld was a different matter entirely.

Ever since word spread that Mother was coming—and would lay her eggs on Domain Clan territory—the entire Domain Clan had sprung into action.

They summoned the finest designers and craftsmen to prepare a residence and birthing chamber for Mother. Considering the Broodmother's original species, they didn't even follow tradition or historical records by building the nest underground. Instead, they constructed a sprawling palace complex with gardens, where sunlight reached every corner.

The Broodmother's main palace naturally stood at the very center. Beyond the exquisitely designed grand garden behind it lay the King Insect Hall, reserved for the male insects on standby. Given Sub-Lord Taste's rank, his assigned palace was naturally set further toward the periphery.

Seraphiel and Amon carried the Broodmother, who was about to give birth, not daring to fly, and could only hurry on foot through palace after palace. They even crossed a vast flower field before finally reaching the birthing pool.

The birthing pool was located directly behind the Broodmother's main palace. Though only a single story, its ceiling soared high and broad. Moist moss clung to the walls, soft grass covered the floor, which dipped slightly in the center, where a shallow, golden pool lay. Warm steam rose from the surface, mingling scents of soil and vegetation.

Seraphiel bent down and gently lowered Yor into the pool. The nutrient solution was just the right temperature, flowing over his insect tail, soaking the pearly white scales into a warm, lustrous sheen.

The pool's edge was slick, so Seraphiel stepped in too and sat behind him, letting Yor lean his back against his chest.

Though there was no labor pain like in human childbirth, instinct kept reminding him to find a safe, suitable place to give birth. Only after he was fully soaked in the nutrient solution did Yor finally breathe a sigh of relief.

He tentatively moved his insect tail. The unfamiliar appendage swayed gently in the liquid—which was... a bit strange, yet also rather wonderful.

Seraphiel carefully held Yor's waist with a light touch, while Amon knelt at the pool's edge, lips pressed together, staring intently at Yor's belly.

Yor: "....."

They had spent three shameless days and nights together—everything that should and shouldn't have been seen, had been seen. But being stared at like this, Yor couldn't even move his tail comfortably, much less give birth.

Amon didn't notice Yor's discomfort. His mind was in turmoil, and he hadn't even noticed grass blades sprouting from him. His fingers absently plucked at the leaf edges, curling them inward.

That was real mental energy—Yor could practically feel the pain on his behalf.

After hesitating for a long while, seeing that Yor showed no signs of going into labor, Amon finally forced the words out: "...So it could still be mine, right?" His voice grew quieter as he spoke. "You just became the Broodmother—maybe you misidentified it the first time? Perhaps you were just too worried about Taste..."

Yor: "....."

If the child hadn't come out and claimed its father on its own, Yor might have actually believed him.

But Yor didn't say much. Once the child was born, Amon would know soon enough—no need to burst his bubble right now.

The more Amon thought about it, the less confident he felt. He knew his own words didn't hold up. In the end, he slumped entirely against the pool's edge, chin resting on his crossed arms, his eyes rimmed with red.

He was never one to hide his emotions—his face was now written all over with dejection and resentment.

Yor watched the pitiful male insect and felt his heart soften. He turned to look at Seraphiel: "Seraphiel, go bring Taste here for me. Once the honey comes in, I can feed him right away."

Seraphiel's movements paused for a split second.

He wanted to say that he could just have the lower-ranked Domain bugs bring Taste over, but when his gaze landed on Yor's face... Mother's eyes were full of Amon.

Mother clearly had something to say to Amon. Something she couldn't say in front of him.

Seraphiel lowered his gaze and stood, grabbing a robe from the pool's edge and draping it over himself. "...Alright."

When Seraphiel's figure disappeared through the birthing pool's entrance, Yor reached out and gently squeezed Amon's soft earlobe.

Amon turned his head, eyes still red, staring blankly.

Yor soothed him softly, "What are you unhappy about? On the ship earlier... weren't we happy?"

"Of course I was happy..." Amon's face flushed under Mother's gentle gaze. "It's just... the more a male insect is held in Mother's heart, the easier it is for him to get Mother pregnant..."

And he had tried for three whole days, only to lose to that Sub-Lord... How could he be okay with that...

Didn't that just mean Mother didn't really like him at all...

"What good is being held in the heart?" Yor chuckled softly, leaning close to Amon's ear. "A male insect... of course, being inside the body is far more useful."

Amon's eyes went wide. He looked at Yor with a mix of bashful indignation and joy. "You... you... Of course I still hope you like both my body and..."

And like me as a person too.

Yor saw his mood improving and leaned back in the pool, stroking his face. "Look, out of all the lords, you're the best-looking. How could I not like you?"

Yor's tone was confident, and he wasn't completely lying. Among the lords, the Domain Insect Lord's refined yet noble features were indeed the most striking—though that was excluding Zane, who had reached an entirely different level of beauty.

And between the two Domain lords, Seraphiel was like a holy archangel—beautiful, sure, but somehow lacking a spark of life.

Amon was different. Sensitive and spirited, sometimes carrying a hint of mischief—his temperament was unique, making it impossible not to look twice.

Even Yor had to admit that his ability to forgive this insect so easily probably had a lot to do with his appearance.

"...Really?"

Appearance was probably the last thing Amon had ever considered, but if Mother said so... Amon's lips were already curling into a smile. He clung to his last shred of rationality to weakly protest: "But Seraphiel looks exactly like me..."

Yor didn't let him finish, stating firmly: "You're better-looking than him."

Two lives from one body—one dared to say it, and the other dared to believe it.

Amon nodded blissfully. Even if Mother was just humoring him... but from another angle—Mother was willing to say nice things to comfort him!

The male insect even started fantasizing: maybe Mother was just too worried about Taste. His own seed was inside Mother's body right now too. Perhaps one day, it would be his turn...

Amon took those words to heart, but he wasn't the only one listening.

Inside Yor's belly, the egg that had been quietly curled up the whole time extended a thread of ultra-fine psychic energy through the belly wall, carefully observing Amon—to see exactly what Mother liked.

Seraphiel settled Taste in the room next to the birthing pool, adjusted the medical pod's parameters, confirmed Taste wouldn't be in any danger, then stepped back two paces, his mind elsewhere.

He didn't turn back toward the pool right away. Passing by the doorway moments ago, he had heard Amon's laughter and seen Amon step into the pool, sitting in the spot Seraphiel had just been sitting in, supporting Mother's waist, his entire face beaming with joy—all traces of his earlier agitation gone.

Mother must have comforted him.

Seraphiel understood in his heart: whoever Mother favored was her choice, but... his chest felt heavy...

Just a vessel for negative emotions... clearly he was the real one who...

The moment the thought surfaced, he startled himself.

Seraphiel turned, pressing himself into the shadows of the room. He pressed his hand against his chest, trying to suppress the bitterness surging inside him. He closed his eyes, not daring to let those thoughts spread, and even less daring to walk out and let Mother notice something was wrong.

...One day, Mother would see him. As long as he kept trying hard enough...

In the birthing pool, Yor looked down at his belly, confused. Earlier, the egg had been bouncing around, eager to grow and come out, but now it had gone completely still.

He patted his belly, puzzled: "...What are you doing in there?"

The egg gave no response. If he couldn't feel it diligently absorbing energy from his body, Yor would have worried something was wrong.

Amon, right behind him, was still throwing out bad ideas. "Maybe it needs male pheromones? Isn't this when a male finally comes in handy?"

Yor slapped a hand over his mouth. The egg was already conscious—cracking jokes out loud was one thing, but did he seriously plan to go in there and meet it face-to-face?!

Absurd!

Even with Yor glaring at him, Amon didn't flinch—he just laughed cheerfully.

"Quit messing around—Seraphiel's gonna be back any second..." Yor's words died in his throat as he suddenly went still.

A wave of pheromones surged from deep inside him, thick with a warm, cloying sweetness—no mistaking it, that was the signal for labor.

Amon's smile stiffened on his face. He dropped the goofy act fast, one hand bracing Yor's lower back while the other hovered protectively over his swollen belly. "You okay? Any pain?"

Seraphiel came bursting out of the adjoining room, practically slamming to his knees at the edge of the birthing pool, eyes locked on it.

Even Taste's vital sign monitor in the next room spiked hard, letting out a quick burst of beeps.

Yor looked down at his belly, then up at the two nervous males in front of him, and sighed. "...I'm fine."

A Broodmother's body was built for bearing young—pushing out a single egg was barely any effort at all. Hell, it might even be easier than a hen on Blue Star laying an egg.

But Amon and Seraphiel both looked like they were about to crack. Amon's little leaf-antennae were trembling. With the tension this thick, Yor had no choice but to focus on his own belly.

Huh... something was sliding down... felt weird...

Seemed like... it was about to come out...

In the pale gold nutrient fluid, a thick, blood-streaked liquid spread out—the egg's own birthing fluid, there to lube things up for an easy delivery.

But after the red stain faded, a long moment passed, and the egg still didn't come out.

Amon's breathing got heavier. "...Why isn't it out yet?"

Seraphiel had gotten to his feet, staring at the spreading stain. He hesitated. "Should we call Zane? He's basically half a doctor."

Yor went quiet for a second. He really didn't want to deal with that bug—it always dragged up bad memories...

Just as he was weighing his options, a dull "plop" hit the water, and a tiny ripple spread across the surface of the nutrient pool.

Well, no more debating whether to call Zane. Both males stared at Yor, tense, and he waved a hand to say he was fine.

They both looked down at the bottom of the pool.

The egg had apparently taken Yor's "too big and ugly, I won't like you" comment way too seriously. For a lord-level insect egg, it was smaller than any they'd ever seen, sitting at the bottom under the murky water churned up by the birth fluid—just a blurry shadow.

The egg seemed to twitch, a faint trail of bubbles rising under the surface... and then, nothing.

Something felt wrong...

Yor hesitated. "Shouldn't we, like, take it out and check?"

Amon wasn't sure either. "...Probably not? The little bug'll crawl out on its own once it hatches, right..."

Seraphiel didn't say a word. He squinted at the shadow, then suddenly shoved his hand into the pool.

He moved so fast Yor couldn't even follow. By the time the water settled, his hand was already out, holding a small, dripping-wet thing in his palm.

It wasn't an egg. It was a human baby.

A tiny little thing, all curled up.

Eyes still closed, limbs tucked in, completely still—not even breathing.

They'd never seen an insect hatchling born in human form, not even needing to crack out of a shell.

Both males froze. Yor blurted out, "...It's not crying."

Those words snapped Seraphiel into action. Pure instinct took over—he pressed his fingers to the baby's chest and started compressions without a second thought. About half a minute in, the little thing's chest suddenly heaved, coughing up a mouthful of water.

Then it opened its mouth and wailed.

The baby's cry was thin and reedy, echoing through the high-domed birthing hall.

All three bugs finally let out a breath of relief. They leaned in to get a good look at the kid—and what they saw...

Amon looked like he was in a dream. He opened his mouth, closed it, stared at Yor in total confusion, and stammered, "...Is it... is it really not my kid?"

Yor was just as stunned—the baby was crying with a red, scrunched-up face, but with platinum-blond hair and pale gold eyes, it looked nothing like the iron-gray war bug, and the whole face... was a tiny copy of Amon.

Amon leaned in, sniffing and examining.

A sniff—war bug scent.

A look—clearly my offspring.

His eyes and his pheromone sense refused to reconcile. He was on the verge of collapse. "It can't be all three of ours, can it!"

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

The hatchling: Nope, just using your good looks.

While writing, I kept picturing Yor with a big white tail as Lady White Snake—and since she's Lady White Snake, her belly must hold the Star of Literature (bushi). A clever little trick to win the mother's affection!