In truth, Elan had sensed that ominous aura the moment the “insect eye” opened behind him. However, being beset by enemies on both sides, he could only dodge to the right in an attempt to minimize the damage.
The anticipated strike did not land. Instead, a severed mantis limb, oozing green slime, was slammed violently onto the ground within his field of vision. A slightly familiar, angry shout reached his ears:
“Do you not look behind you when you fight?”
Elan knitted his brows, seemingly unable to comprehend Mo Ting’s act of rescue. He released his grip on his injured arm and was just about to say something when the expression in his eyes suddenly turned sharp. A blue laser beam shot toward Mo Ting.
Mo Ting had not expected Elan to attack him. Astonished by such “heartlessness,” he grit his teeth in rage and lifted his sword to parry—
As the blade touched his shoulder, it flicked upward. With a splat, the sound of a Zerg’s thorax being sliced open erupted, and a spray of stinking green slime drenched Mo Ting’s shoulder.
His face turned a mix of red and green as he processed the situation. A wave of nausea rose in his throat, and he quickly scrambled to the side.
Elan tossed aside the Zerg corpse skewered on his sword and gave a fleeting glance to the man whose face now resembled a palette of spilled condiments. “Do you not look behind you when you fight?”
There weren’t many Zerg in the vicinity to begin with, and the two of them had cleared nearly all of them. If they wanted to slay more, they would have to move elsewhere.
Dragging his injured body, Elan stepped toward a more densely populated Zerg area, acting as if he were immune to exhaustion and pain.
Seeing him about to leave, Mo Ting took a deep breath and called out to stop him: “Wait!”
Elan paused. He had no favorable impression of this person, so he did not turn around. Naturally, he acted as if he hadn’t heard and continued forward.
To his surprise, Mo Ting was relentless. He chased after him and grabbed Elan by his uninjured shoulder.
With an ill-tempered expression, Elan shifted and shook the hand off his shoulder. “Is there something you need?”
What else could it be? It must be about Douglas, Elan thought.
But in the next second, Mo Ting spoke: “Your judgment is incredibly decisive, and you are intimately familiar with the physiological structure of the Zerg. Every attack hits a vital spot, which proves you have seasoned combat experience. But why is your physical strength so weak? You can’t even hold a sword steady. Did you have an accident?”
Elan was somewhat surprised by this. He hadn’t expected Mo Ting to ask such a question. However, this was a private matter—one that even Douglas didn’t know, let alone Mo Ting. Thus, he remained silent, giving Mo Ting a look that asked ‘Why should I tell you?’ before turning to leave.
Mo Ting shouted at his back: “Regardless, this isn’t a place you should be with your current strength. No matter how strong you used to be, you are weak now. You’re going to get hurt a lot. Today’s injury is only the beginning.”
“I think you should, as soon as possible…”
Drop the course.
Before he could finish, Elan turned around. He looked at him with a cold face, yet his eyes held a strange, peculiar glimmer.
Elan asked, “Do you have no other questions? Ones unrelated to combat?”
Mo Ting’s expression froze instantly. He hesitated for a moment. “I do have some…”
He quickly made up his mind and asked bluntly: “What is your relationship with General Douglas? Do you like him? Or does he like you?”
He definitely isn’t Douglas’s partner, Mo Ting thought. He had heard that Douglas’s relationship with his partner was terrible. Earlier, although the look Douglas gave Elan was complex and filled with many things, it certainly lacked disgust or resistance.
As expected, he wants to ask this, Elan sneered inwardly. His gaze turned cold once more as he retorted, “You like him? Why?”
Mo Ting looked at Elan with an astonished gaze, as if Elan had said something truly outrageous. He said, “General Douglas is the strongest Alpha in the Empire. Who doesn’t like him?”
Elan looked deeply at him, taking special note of his eyes as he spoke. Mo Ting’s eyes were like obsidian, forever bright and flashing. The emotion flowing within that obsidian right now wasn’t the adoration an Omega holds for an Alpha, but the appreciation a strong person holds for someone even stronger.
But he seemed to have misunderstood his own feelings, mistaking appreciation for liking—or even love.
Seeing that Elan remained silent, Mo Ting felt this man was even more aloof than Eler had been as a child. He couldn’t help but say, “Regardless of your relationship with General Douglas, I’m warning you: he has a partner.”
Elan, the legitimate partner of Douglas: “…I’m also warning you: he has a partner.”
Seeing that Elan was finally on the same wavelength in their conversation, Mo Ting stepped closer to him: “What’s wrong with having a partner? The Empire doesn’t have a lifelong marriage system. One can divorce even with a partner. If he truly loved his partner, I wouldn’t be able to successfully ‘pry the wall,’ would I?”
“Moreover, General Douglas and his partner come from different backgrounds, different lineages, and have different values. If they could love each other and stay together under those conditions, how profound would that love have to be? Where in this world does such an ideal love exist?”
“I’m different. I share the same so-called ‘lower-class’ bloodline as General Douglas. We are a perfect match.”
When he said the words “lower-class,” his tone was so arrogant it was as if they were a badge of honor rather than a mark of shame.
Elan felt a throbbing pain in his head from the irritation. In his heart, he cursed Douglas. It was all because Douglas was indiscreet, attracting “bees and butterflies” everywhere and incurring these romantic debts that caused Elan trouble.
Elan quickened his pace. Mo Ting, seemingly thinking that Elan’s lack of objection meant a willingness to talk, chased after him. After all, this tactic worked on the young Eler—and isn’t that iceberg currently melting? This proved the method was effective.
When the training session ended, Eler gave his critiques and summary. He then allowed the exhausted students to sit on the grass to rest and distributed nutritional supplements for physical recovery.
Elan did not want to stay near Mo Ting. There were only two Omegas in the vicinity; the rest were all Alphas, including Adam, who had previously drugged him. He had no choice but to sit at a midpoint between the Alphas and Mo Ting.
Mo Ting was very familiar with Instructor Eler. Completely disregarding the gazes of others, he approached Eler to talk.
The people around them watched the two of them and began whispering discussions on the Star Network.
Floor 1: Anyone else in the first Military Department class? Someone please understand my vibe right now.
Floor 2: Seriously, who is that Mo Ting guy? He’s so familiar with Instructor Eler.
Floor 3: Analysis complete. The person above definitely isn’t a Capital Planet local, or at least your family hasn’t reached that level yet. Although the Imperial Special Academy mandates family secrecy, you can tell which family he’s from just by the surname “Mo,” right?
Floor 4: There are plenty of people named Mo. Why must it be that Mo? Don’t be so elitist based on one sentence.
Floor 5: Instructor Eler smiled. He smiled. Even if the corner of his mouth only went up by 1.5 pixels, he smiled.
Floor 6: Does anyone else think that blonde Omega is pretty good-looking? He’s just a bit weak. His face is as white as paper; I wouldn’t even dare fight him for fear that one mistake would make him snap.
Floor 7: Aren’t all Omegas that weak? If you ask me, the Military Department shouldn’t accept Omegas. Omegas should stay home arranging flowers and brewing tea. What is the school even doing?
Floor 8: Careful, Floor 7. You might get a visit from the Anti-Discrimination Center.
Floor 9: It’s not discrimination, just facts. Omegas are just weaker than Alphas. …
Elan leaned against a tree. The gentle breeze brushed against his cheeks, making him feel drowsy after his extreme physical exertion. The moment his head drooped, Elan regained a spark of consciousness and heard voices nearby.
Mo Ting asked, “Eler, where did General Douglas go? Why was he here before training but gone afterward?”
Eler was very displeased with Mo Ting’s excessive focus on Douglas. He frowned and said, “I don’t know. Also, watch your form of address.”
Seeing that he was unwilling to tell him, Mo Ting persisted, “Respected Lead Instructor Eler, might I ask where General Douglas has gone?”
Eler remained silent for a moment before saying, “General Mo sought him out for work-related matters.”
Once the class was over, it was dinner time. Unlike the others, Elan was not used to eating outside food; a butler would come to deliver his meals every time.
Douglas likely didn’t know about this. After all, as the Principal, it was impossible for him to micromanage the fact that the school gate operators were accepting favors.
Elan sat on a long bench and opened his lunch box, which contained simple and clean vegetables and meat. This area was sparsely populated; five meters away was the red wall where Douglas had pinned him to bite his scent gland.
Before the food could reach his mouth, a repulsive figure stood before him.
Evan, wearing the Fine Arts Department uniform, stood in front of Elan with feigned surprise: “Why is Brother all alone? Have you been isolated?”
Elan: “…”
The previously inviting aroma of the food now felt nauseating as it hit his nose, causing a sharp pang in Elan’s empty stomach. He closed the lunch box and asked, “Is there something you want?”
Evan dropped his punchable facade and said impatiently, “Mother told you to withdraw from the Military Department immediately. It was already a concession for her to agree to you entering the Medical Department. You actually went behind her back to enroll in the Military Department—you’re just causing trouble.”
Having said that, his gaze swept over Elan’s injured arm, and he curled his lips into a smile: “Though, I actually hope you don’t withdraw. I’m really looking forward to seeing you beaten half to death by those Alpha warriors in future sparring matches.”
Elan finally looked him in the eye, though he only asked, “What were her exact words?”
Evan’s smile stiffened for a split second. He couldn’t possibly tell him that Acricia had also added: ‘Doesn’t he know his own physical condition? How dare he go to the Military Department!’
He said maliciously, “Her original words were exactly what I just said. Otherwise, what were you expecting?”
Elan stood up and threw the food, along with the lunch box, to a cleaning robot. His tone was indifferent: “I will do as you wish.”
What does that mean? He’s not withdrawing?
Evan watched Elan’s receding figure in disbelief. He thought Elan might have gone mad. How could someone who used to be as obedient as a delicate puppet make such a decision?
Elan’s transformation made him feel a sense of unease, but he quickly reassured himself. Elan’s actions would only make their mother angrier. She would invest more energy and focus into him, grooming him just as she once groomed Elan.
He would be the only one qualified to inherit the Lehmann family.