The door had just been pulled open when the expressionless Samuel appeared in front of the two people inside.
With Chris and Ylair present, the affairs of the Border Military District rarely required Samuel’s direct intervention. Nevertheless, he remained busy. For several consecutive days, he stayed in his room handling official business sent from the Main Star. Naturally, he had no time to spare for that male Zerg, whose identity and motives he doubted, nor for the little white snake that had disappeared after behaving like a rogue toward him.
Another reason for his seclusion might have been a desire to avoid that little white snake altogether. The experience of that night still left the Marshal feeling so ashamed and exasperated that he felt like hacking a few Ten-Gha to pieces.
On the other side, Winslow did not pay much mind to the mysterious Zerg Marshal whom he had only met once before the latter vanished. Even the sight of his own spiritual body coiled around Samuel’s neck was something he quickly forgot. Thus, the day after their meeting, when Chris and a group of military females who had come for mental grooming spoke of their brave and battle-hardened Marshal in tones of reverence and worship, Winslow’s heart did not experience a single ripple.
Actually, it was not entirely without impact. Because of Samuel, Winslow was able to decide his own mental grooming schedule. Consequently, he performed grooming sessions from morning until night. By the final few days, one could hardly find a single military female in the entire Border Military District who still required treatment. Every time Winslow was able to enjoy a full day of grooming, he would offer a small, silent thanks to the kind and sensible Marshal.
He had no idea that the Marshal had been too embarrassed to show his face to anyone for days because of what Winslow’s spiritual body had done, even resorting to using the terminal to communicate with Chris. Chris had naturally been puzzled by this. Why was the Marshal, who was so close by, still using the terminal to contact him? He could not figure it out, but he knew the Marshal must have his reasons.
The Marshal finally finished his official duties a week later. Because he had worked so intensely and efficiently, Samuel actually found himself with a few days to rest. For a famous workaholic of the Federation, Samuel worked almost every day. This was the first time he had completed so much work ahead of schedule that there was nothing left to handle for the immediate future, excluding emergencies.
With the routine work finished early, Samuel no longer had an excuse to stay cooped up in his room. Furthermore, he needed to inspect the border planet to see if the Ten-Gha had any new tricks. Thus, on a sunny and unremarkable day, Samuel stepped out of his room.
What is the first step after leaving one’s protective shell and room of shame? Samuel decided it was to check on that male Zerg with the suspicious identity and unknown motives. In his mind, he automatically ignored that troublesome, rogue little white snake. Samuel halted his steps, which had originally been headed toward the outskirts of the military district, and turned toward the mental grooming room.
The morning was only a third of the way through, yet Winslow had already finished grooming all the military females scheduled for the day. He performed a task that others found tedious, but which he found quite interesting. Mental grooming, widely recognized in this world as a dangerous profession, felt more like a stress-relieving game to Winslow. It was relaxing because every time he entered a military female’s spiritual sea, he could take a chaotic world and tidy it up until it was spotless.
The reason for the progress was simple: Winslow discovered that the more military females he groomed, the more spiritual power he could convert. His spiritual domain had evolved from a few scattered stars to a sky full of constellations. These stars illuminated a spiritual domain that felt like a vast universe. However, he still had not found the boundaries of this space. After months of observation, Winslow finally confirmed that his spiritual domain was a vast cosmos.
Such an expansive spiritual domain was unheard of. Winslow thought that the reason he originally could not soothe Sentinels was likely because his spiritual power was not enough to fill this black-hole-like domain. After falling down the rift, he had accidentally absorbed and converted the black mist, which was the source of pollution, into usable spiritual power. Because of this, the domain had finally revealed its true form.
It was a twist of fate. Because he had always been protected within the White Tower, he had never come into contact with the black mist. Therefore, he had no energy to convert and no spiritual power to soothe them, leading to his exile. Yet, he had turned a misfortune into a blessing, finally experiencing the true sensation of mental grooming in this world.
Winslow’s hand tapped idly on the desk, rhythmically, again and again. His long, narrow eyes were cast down, hiding his usual emerald pupils. A steady knocking interrupted Winslow’s thoughts. He looked up, his emerald eyes appearing somewhat cold.
“Enter,” he said. The door to the room opened, and Major Bane stepped inside.
A flicker of confusion crossed Winslow’s calm eyes. He remembered this Zerg, who had blue hair and blue eyes. He was one of the military females from the border prison who had previously lost his mind. His spiritual sea had been the most damaged and collapsed among all the prisoners. When Winslow’s spiritual power first entered, his vision had been completely blocked by a pitch-black spiritual sea; it had taken ten minutes to repair. However, the state of this military female’s spiritual sea was now visibly excellent, so why had he come to the grooming room?
Winslow did not stand. He sat quietly in his chair, his tapping finger coming to a stop. He leaned back slightly, and his dark green shirt clung to his torso, faintly outlining the lines of his abdominal muscles. He looked lazy and relaxed. Unlike the guarded state he was in when he first arrived, Winslow had now completely adapted to life here. His raised eyes carried a hint of confusion, causing the young Major to flush. The slight shyness he felt from coming here alone intensified under the gaze of his crush.
The young Zerg Major encouraged himself in his heart, telling himself that a female pursuing love is only natural. A male this wonderful must be claimed quickly. With this thought, Bane straightened his back and plucked up the courage to speak.
“Lord Winslow!”
“Hmm?” Winslow instinctively quirked a brow. He withdrew his hand from the table and placed both on the armrests, his fingers lightly alternating taps.
Bane’s gaze was involuntarily drawn to those slender, fair hands. It was the owner of these hands who had saved the military females of the entire district in just a few short months. A trace of infatuation appeared in his blue eyes. At that moment, Winslow’s tapping fingers stopped. His head straightened, and then his whole body sat upright.
Winslow’s sudden movement startled the daydreaming Bane. He snapped back to reality and said hurriedly, “My Lord, I would like to invite you to a restaurant outside for a meal. I wonder if I might have that honor?”
The words he had originally intended to use to confess his feelings remained unsaid under the male’s calm gaze. Bane felt a bit frustrated, but he quickly comforted himself. He could invite the Lord to dinner first, confess when the atmosphere was right, and then offer up all of his assets.
Winslow did not understand why a military female he had only met a few times would invite him out. As a Guide with no romantic experience, he could not see the love in the Zerg’s eyes. Before Winslow could answer, the little white snake heard its favorite word. It appeared out of thin air on Winslow’s shoulder. It nudged Winslow gently with its head, as if saying, “Go, go!”
The rejection Winslow had been prepared to voice was swallowed back down. Thinking that he had not left the building once since arriving and that he eventually needed to learn about his surroundings, Winslow easily agreed. Hearing Winslow’s affirmative answer, Bane’s blue eyes sparkled even brighter.
“Oh! Great! Then whenever you have time, My Lord, I will be waiting for you!” The young Major’s voice was as sweet as if it were coated in honey.
“We can go now. There are no more military females who need grooming,” Winslow’s calm voice rang out. “Let us go.”
He grabbed his coat from the nearby rack, putting it on as he walked toward the door. “How are we getting there?”
“Lord Winslow, I have a shuttle! We can take my shuttle!” Bane volunteered eagerly. He knew that when a male Zerg went out, he usually had a female attendant for protection. He quickly took on the role of escort so it would stay just the two of them. Besides, as an A-rank military female, he was more than capable of handling escort duties.
“Fine,” Winslow said no more, looking down as he pulled the door open. The door had just been opened when the expressionless Samuel appeared in their sight.