“Alright, let’s be rational about this,” Kazuki began, a helpless shrug accompanying his words.
“Miss Robin is a major celebrity; it would be pretty hard to explain a stranger suddenly appearing by her side.
And Castorice, you’ve got the First Genius watching over you, so you can’t just bring anyone home.
When you really think it through, my place is the only one that makes sense.” He sighed, accepting the outcome of a situation he had inadvertently created.
It seemed he had shot himself in the foot.
Beside him, Liu Ying spoke softly, her voice barely a whisper.
“I won’t cause any trouble.”
Though she said it with quiet conviction, Kazuki knew her very existence was a magnet for trouble.
A woman wanted by the Interstellar Peace Corporation for a staggering 9.7 billion credits was bound to cause a stir when she set foot on the Luofu.
The good news was that the IPC’s wanted list wasn’t the Xianzhou Luofu’s direct concern.
The bad news?
9.7 billion credits was an astronomical sum.
It was impossible to say for sure that no one on the Luofu would be tempted by such a life-changing fortune.
“I have some bad news for you, Liu Ying,” Kazuki started, choosing his words with care.
“In my world, there’s a member of the Glamoth Iron Cavalry who is wanted by the Corporation.
The bounty is 9.7 billion.
So, when we get to the Luofu, you’ll have to stay with me in your ‘Liu Ying’ form, without the armor.”
“No problem,” Liu Ying agreed without a moment’s hesitation.
“The onset cycle for the entropy loss syndrome among the Glamoth Iron Cavalry is typically a few months.
I just need to return before then.”
Only then did the full implication strike Kazuki.
If the Glamoth Republic had never fallen, if Empress Titania still reigned… perhaps the so-called entropy loss syndrome was never a fatal, terminal illness at all.
Perhaps it was merely a tool, a cruel leash the Empire used to control its most powerful soldiers.
“Then it’s settled, everyone.
See you all next time.” With that, Kazuki initiated the transfer, becoming the first to depart from the world of Empress Titania II through the chat group’s interface.
“It was a pleasure meeting you all.” Castorice performed a graceful curtsy toward Liu Ying and Robin.
Her violet hair shimmered in the firelight for a moment before her form dissolved into the shimmering gate of a portal.
“Miss Liu Ying, I’ll gather whatever information I can find about the Glamoth Republic in our world when I return.
I hope it can be of some help to you.” Robin offered a small wave, the hem of her silver-blue knight’s uniform flashing a brilliant hue as she, too, departed.
“Thank you,” Liu Ying managed, giving a slight nod.
In an instant, the cavern was empty, save for her.
The firewood crackled, its soft popping the only sound in the sudden, deep silence.
The lively scene of the four of them chatting around the flames just moments ago now felt like a fleeting, illusory dream.
All that remained was the cold reality of scattered embers and a loneliness that was anything but a dream.
‘So lonely…’ Liu Ying pressed a hand to her chest, the armored fingertips trembling slightly against the cold metal.
Throughout her long, grueling military career, she had almost always fought alone.
Yet this time, the emptiness that followed their parting felt particularly sharp, as if an invisible hand were squeezing her heart, making it ache with a dull, persistent throb. This chapter is updated first at g.com.
A sphere of orange-red light enveloped her.
The heavy armor dissolved within the warm glow, revealing the slender form of a white-haired girl.
She leaned back against the rough cavern wall, pulling her knees up to her chin and wrapping her arms around them.
She stared blankly at the flickering flames, watching them dance and writhe.
The loneliness she had held at bay now surged forward like a relentless tide, threatening to submerge her completely.
She hadn’t spoken up in the group chat, hadn’t voiced the feeling welling inside her.
She knew the others had their own lives, their own families and friends to return to.
But her… her life consisted of nothing but battle.
“For Glamoth… for Her Majesty the Empress…” she whispered the slogan that had once filled her with fire and purpose.
But now, the words only stirred an endless, hollow ache in her chest, a deep emptiness where pride and glory used to reside.
The world shifted, and Kazuki found himself back in the Seat of Divine Foresight.
The grand chamber was dark, the usual lights extinguished for the night.
Fortunately, as a Xianzhou native, night vision was an innate ability.
His eyes adjusted quickly, and he easily spotted the familiar figure of Jing Yuan, slumped over his desk, taking a short nap.
“Great-Uncle… Great-Uncle,” Kazuki called softly, holding the Stone Fire Dream Body as he gently shook the general’s shoulder.
“Yawn… Kazuki?
You’re back?” Jing Yuan rubbed his eyes and let out a long, deep yawn, his voice thick and hoarse with sleep.
“Did everything go smoothly?”
“It did.
Thanks to your weapon, it all went off without a hitch,” Kazuki said, moving to hand the blade back.
“Hey, you keep it for now.” Jing Yuan pushed his hand away, a warm smile playing in his eyes.
“For me, this blade is more of a memento of the past than a truly practical weapon.
But for you, it’s a different story.
I have a feeling your days of leisure are numbered.
Keep it for protection.”
“In that case, I’ll graciously accept.” Kazuki didn’t hesitate, immediately storing the Stone Fire Dream Body in the subtle pocket of dimensional space Xianzhou natives called a “sleeve-space,” demonstrating for Jing Yuan a masterclass in taking what was offered.
“You little rascal.
Not a shred of polite refusal in you,” Jing Yuan chuckled, amused by his nephew’s complete lack of ceremony.
He tapped his fingers on the desk.
“You’re the only one who dares to be so casual with me.”
Within the family, Jing Yuan’s status as a general commanded immense respect, and the younger generation was often too intimidated to approach him.
Only Kazuki, from their very first meeting, had been different.
He had boldly asked:
“Old Jing, Old Jing, do you ever crash your starship?”
Jing Yuan had been delighted.
He’d rapped Kazuki’s head three times and declared, “From now on, you call me Great-Uncle, understand?”
That very night, in the dead of it, a much younger Kazuki had crept into his room, insisting that Jing Yuan teach him divine techniques. This chapter is updated first at g.com.
“What an elder bestows cannot be refused,” Kazuki now said with a broad, unburdened smile.
“Alright, if you’re done being cheeky, go get some sleep.” Jing Yuan waved a dismissive hand, then paused as if suddenly remembering something.
“Oh, right.
Don’t forget to go to the Sky-Faring Commission to pick up your starship.
The fine should be ready for you to pay, too… and get ready to retake your pilot’s license exam.”
Kazuki, who had been halfway to the door, froze.
He turned back with a pained expression and waved a hand in acknowledgement.
“I know, I know!”
He walked to the doorway but stopped again, hesitating for a moment before turning around.
“Oh, one more thing, Great-Uncle.
In a little while, I might have to leave the Xianzhou Luofu.”
Xianzhou natives couldn’t simply leave their home ships on a whim.
Jing Yuan looked up at him, his expression knowing.
“Leave the Luofu?
Planning to visit another Xianzhou?
The Jade Gate, perhaps?
Or the Zhuming?”
“Not another Xianzhou.” Kazuki’s gaze drifted to the night sky visible through the ornate window, starlight tracing the lines of his face.
“I’m going outside the Luofu.
Out into the galaxy.”
Jing Yuan fell silent for a few long seconds.
Finally, he nodded, his tone as calm as if they were discussing the weather.
“Then go.”
He paused, and his gaze softened, becoming both gentle and deeply solemn.
“But you must remember, the Luofu will always be your home.
If you’re wronged out there, you use my name.
But if you forget your roots and act recklessly…”
He deliberately drew out the words, watching Kazuki’s expression grow nervous before a smile touched his lips as he delivered the second half.
“…I’ll personally send someone to teach you a lesson, you little rascal.”
“Got it, Great-Uncle!” Kazuki grinned, gave Jing Yuan a vigorous wave, and vanished into the night.
Jing Yuan watched the empty doorway for a long moment before letting out a soft sigh.
“Sigh… Have I really reached that sentimental age?”
[Elysian’s Note:
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