They left the imperial capital and headed straight for the port. The weather around here was gloomy, with signs of imminent rain.
Rong Shao was the first to get out of the car, exhaling in relief, “Finally here.” Then, realizing how that sounded, he quickly turned to Su Cha and added, “I don’t mean I’m happy you’re leaving.”
“I get it,” Su Cha said, feeling as though he was finally seeing daylight again. That sea of paper flowers back in the city—it was dizzying no matter who looked at it.
Liu Xiqin stood at the port, facing the sea breeze. Her ponytail was lifted by the wind, and she squinted into the distance. “This is my first time at Heibeng Port.”
This place was under special jurisdiction. Ordinary civilian ships weren’t allowed anywhere near.
Over thirty warships were temporarily docked along the shore. A man with a black hood over his head was tightly bound in chains and was being escorted onto one of the ships.
Su Cha asked, “Who’s that?”
“Luan Zheng,” Ji Tianjin answered. “As the mastermind of the live human experimentation case, His Majesty has approved turning him over to Fog Star for handling.”
Su Cha spoke earnestly, “Not dying in the Empire is his misfortune.”
Ji Tianjin agreed. The punishment he would face on Fog Star would likely be a hundred or a thousand times worse.
At that moment, Land came up from behind. “Your Highness, it’s time to prepare for departure.”
Su Cha nodded.
Ji Tianjin lowered his eyes and looked at him. “Once you get back…”
Su Cha listened attentively.
“Study hard.”
“…”
Rong Shao chimed in, “That’s right. Wealth and splendor must not sway you—strength must still rest in your own hands.”
Liu Xiqin and the others nodded as well.
They didn’t quite understand Fog Star’s exaggerated displays of pampering. What they had learned was that true strength could only come from within.
Su Cha smiled. “Don’t worry. Next time we meet, I’ll be strong enough to take all of you down with one hand.”
Standing beneath the largest warship, Su Cha turned back before climbing the steps, waving to Ji Tianjin and the others. “See you!”
They waved back, not stopping even after the warship lifted into the sky.
“Take care of yourself!” Rong Shao’s shout was scattered by the wind, so he had to wave his arms vigorously instead to get the message across.
The enormous warship quickly vanished from sight as light rain began to fall from the sky.
The rain grew heavier. Ji Tianjin said, “Let’s head back.”
As long as they wanted to meet again, there would always be a way.
Just minutes ago the port was full of people and ships. Now it returned to silence, leaving only the sound of raindrops hitting the ground.
…
The interior layout of the Fog Star warship was different from Galan’s. After entering, one would first pass through the data room before reaching the seating area.
All thirty warships launched simultaneously at full speed. Within just half a day, they arrived at the edge of a frontier planet under the Galan Empire’s control. Over a hundred waiting warships joined on both flanks and behind, forming the safest escort formation.
“Would Your Highness like to visit the cockpit?”
At Land’s suggestion, Su Cha nodded without hesitation.
High-level warships were primarily operated via spiritual power. Fog Star used telekinesis; though different, it was like branches from the same tree—different in direction, but not in essence.
The moment Su Cha stepped into the cockpit, he had one thought: I really do need to study hard. Looking at the intricate instruments in front of him, he described them: “So many dials.”
The pilot couldn’t help but laugh and blurted out, “Your Highness is quite humorous.”
Su Cha nodded. Clearly, they were true fans if they could turn his ignorance into charm.
Standing off to the side, Su Cha began to observe closely.
Back at school, anything mechanical had been his nightmare. During the pilot’s patient explanation, he actually started to feel sleepy.
…I’m guilty.
He fell into deep self-reflection.
Meanwhile, the pilot had the opposite feeling. Having the adorable prince nearby made his cold, expressionless face somehow glow with excitement.
For three straight days, Su Cha would visit the cockpit for an hour each day. And for an hour each day, the pilot would be absolutely thrilled.
On the fourth day, a hint of seriousness appeared in the pilot’s expression.
Before Su Cha could ask why, Land led him out and helped him buckle into a seat.
“We’re about to pass through the interstellar battlefield.”
Through the special glass, he could clearly see the outside world. Even though the ship was flying at extreme speed, chaos and combat could still be seen at all times when looking out—his first time witnessing the brutality of what was known as the “meat grinder.”
Something sparkling was flowing out of a cave in the rocks ahead, and many people were fighting viciously over it.
“Meteor sand,” Land explained.
Su Cha looked for a while. So little of it, yet so many were fighting for it. No wonder energy chamber admission spots were so precious each year.
The ship suddenly slowed. Land unfastened a communicator from his belt to ask for an update.
“Report, Marshal: the Federation and Warrior Corps are engaged in battle ahead. Zerg troops are also en route.”
Moments later, a soldier from one of the ships in the rear asked permission to investigate the situation.
Land dispatched two warships for cover. “Don’t get too close—just assess the situation.”
Their top priority remained escorting Su Cha safely. Land didn’t stop to board any other ships.
In truth, he already had a good idea of what was happening. Battles on the interstellar battlefield were always for two things: meteor sand and wormhole control rights.
As expected, the soldiers’ report was about the wormhole.
“We released a probe. Preliminary data suggests this wormhole allows for an instantaneous jump of 7.5 billion light-years.”
A wormhole capable of such a leap—its value was immeasurable.
Su Cha instinctively tried to stand, then realized he was still strapped in.
Land noticed his movement. “Something wrong?”
Su Cha sat back down. “Nothing. I’ve just never seen a wormhole with my own eyes before. I was curious.”
The real reason was that when the system transmitted him, it explicitly stated he would be sent at least 8 billion light-years away—to prevent any host from ever returning to their original world.
And now, just this wormhole alone could instantly cross 7.5 billion light-years.
Land casually added, “Since the Federation’s involved, the King will probably want a piece of the action too.”
Fog Star didn’t care about meteor sand, but they took wormholes very seriously. Over the past fifty years, there had been very few wormholes worth their involvement.
Su Cha asked, “Will we go now?”
Land chuckled, “Of course not. Our job is to deliver you first.”
If they didn’t, the King might blow a fuse.
“Besides, a battle over a wormhole like this won’t be over in just a few years.”
Because a wormhole appeared on the outer edges, the usual high-intensity fighting in the center of the battlefield was slightly calmer today. As the ship flew steadily forward, Su Cha continued asking questions, eager to learn.
The Federation was an alliance made up of two major powers and several mid-sized planets. The Warrior Corps, on the other hand, was formed from countless refugees. Their combat power was formidable, and compared to space pirates, they were at least principled. As for the Zerg, it was also one of the top forces—known for its arrogant and domineering behavior.
“Will the Galan Empire get involved in the scramble?” Su Cha suddenly asked.
“A wormhole like this—anyone capable of getting a piece of it won’t let the chance slip,” Land paused briefly before adding, “Your Highness seems very interested?”
Su Cha didn’t deny it and smiled brightly. “Maybe I’ll even use it for travel in the future.”
Like… killing a few enemies in the name of sightseeing.
The sea of stars was the dream of many young people. Land didn’t kill the mood by explaining how dangerous this kind of wormhole could be. He believed that one day Su Cha would grow into a powerful new king.
Fog Star was a long, long way from Galan Star. After nearly a week of travel, Land only said, “We’re almost there.”
Life aboard the warship was monotonous. Su Cha flipped through school textbooks every day, trying to make a breakthrough in mechanical engineering. One morning, just as he was staring blankly at a complex schematic, a different kind of light suddenly streamed in.
He tilted his head and looked out the window—outside wasn’t the pitch-black of space, but radiant morning light.
The warship descended and landed directly at a military base.
The moment the door opened, breathing in the fresh air under the vast sky, Su Cha felt instantly revitalized. Warships were parked in neat rows all around.
Land walked beside him. “The news of Your Highness’s return was sent ahead a week ago. Even though the exact day of arrival wasn’t given, people have been waiting at the secure exit every day, hoping to catch a glimpse of you.”
Su Cha understood the subtext—there might be a lot of people outside, so he should be prepared.
“I’ve seen this kind of scene before.”
Wasn’t it just like walking a red carpet?
This was his area of expertise.
As they walked, Land reassured him, “No need to be nervous. They’re afraid of startling Your Highness and won’t do anything out of line.”
Even the media had been kept away today to give Su Cha more comfort.
A car waited for them ahead.
With no other vehicles nearby and the area wide open, there was no safety risk. Su Cha poked his head out the window and looked up—the sky over Fog Star wasn’t a pure blue. True to its name, it seemed veiled in a faint fog.
After a steady ten-minute ride, the car stopped. All they had to do was walk through the security gate ahead, and they’d reach the exit.
Land gave Su Cha a “don’t be afraid” look. Su Cha wanted to say he was overthinking it. Just like when he got off the warship at Galan Empire, Su Cha tidied his appearance and stepped forward calmly.
Behind the gate: a sea of people.
They instinctively kept at least ten meters away. The moment the gate opened, countless blazing gazes landed on him.
In terms of appearance, Fog Star people were the most refined Su Cha had ever seen. Their elegance wasn’t rugged or handsome, but an innate nobility—so much so that even a thug standing next to them probably couldn’t bring himself to curse.
As Su Cha was observing them, the citizens lining both sides of the street were also sizing up their little prince. But they weren’t looking at his face, and not even his silver hair was their main focus. What surfaced in their minds were just two words: healthy.
The little prince looked healthy.
Just this simple word was the most precious, luxurious concept in Fog Star’s collective consciousness.
They held up signs that read Welcome Home, Your Highness, decorated with all sorts of little animals—clearly hand-drawn, a bit messy, but sincerely colored.
Su Cha smiled and waved to both sides like he was used to it.
But soon, his smile grew stiff. No one said a word. It was then he finally understood what Land meant by they won’t do anything out of line.
No crowd frenzy, no camera flashes, no shouting—just silent, unblinking stares.
“…”
Okay, he wasn’t that fragile, but… please, someone say something.
Unfortunately, heartfelt thoughts couldn’t be transmitted through telepathy. The people of Fog Star longed to call out to their prince, but they forcefully held themselves back.
Both sides felt awkward.
Su Cha continued walking forward, feeling like even the air was suffocating. He actually started to miss the cameras shoved in his face.
He kept up his smile and waving. The citizens raised their signs even higher. His Highness is so kind and friendly—they never expected that.
Different form, same result. One was a sea of white flowers, the other a silent gaze, but the atmosphere was equally solemn. Once again, Su Cha felt a mourning-like mood, because Fog Star people rarely smiled. Their eyes were the main carriers of emotion.
Those deep gazes were filled with sorrow and gratitude—sorrow that it had taken so long to find their prince, and gratitude that he had finally returned.
“How cute…” someone whispered from the crowd.
Everyone turned to look for the traitor. Weren’t they supposed to stay silent?
“He really is. His eyes are so bright,” another voice murmured.
Why can he say something and I can’t?
Su Cha looked toward the speaker and gave a smile.
That single glance and smile lit the fire of envy in everyone’s hearts.
“Welcome home, Your Highness!” one by one, people broke the rules. The voices rose in waves.
The signs swayed with the excitement, and the street instantly burst into life. From forced smiles to genuine ones, the crowd gradually adapted.
Mainly because when Su Cha smiled, they couldn’t help but want to smile too.
Even the clouds in the sky seemed to be scattered by the noise. Cheers echoed through the streets for several minutes, and when they finally quieted, people began to feel regret.
They’d been so unruly—what if they scared the prince?
But Su Cha’s smile never wavered. He even lifted his chin slightly.
Yes, this was the feeling. No more silence—everybody, get hyped!
He waved here, gestured there—before the crowd could react, Su Cha was already more enthusiastic than they were.
Suddenly, the crowd parted to the sides and bowed. Su Cha was momentarily confused.
Land whispered, “The King has arrived.”
Fog Star’s king didn’t travel with a big entourage—only a few personal guards.
Su Cha looked up curiously. A pale, sharp-featured man stood a few meters away. His eyes had the shape of peach blossoms, but they were cold and cutting. His pallor didn’t seem sickly—more like a blade drawn from its sheath.
Su Cha had once felt a strange familiarity when meeting Land and the others. Now that feeling was even stronger. It was a connection formed purely from blood—a unique kind of bond.
The King of Fog Star coughed lightly twice. His body had reached a delicate balance with his ancestral bloodline, but it still wasn’t in great shape. He raised a hand to waive the formalities of those around him.
The citizens were moved. It had been a long time since they’d seen their king.
But hearing that faint cough, Su Cha immediately tensed. “You mustn’t stand in the wind when you’re feeling unwell.”
He was genuinely worried about the king’s health—and truly did not want to inherit the throne.
“You’re dressed too lightly; you’ll catch cold,” Su Cha said, looking up.
It was late autumn on Fog Star. When he got off the warship, Su Cha had already changed into long sleeves and habitually wore a light raincoat.
The king chuckled and stepped forward, bending down and extending his hand. “Come, I’ll take you home.”
Each word was softly spoken, yet deeply soothing.
This day of reunion had come far too late for both of them.
But Su Cha’s focus was elsewhere.
Such a cold hand—far below normal human temperature. Su Cha’s gaze darkened. Cold constitution. Needs serious care. He subtly used his spirit power to insulate the air around the king, shielding him from the chill. His spiritual presence was naturally low-key, but the king still sensed it.
Then he noticed Su Cha’s slightly furrowed brow and the quiet, fatherly concern in his eyes. The king was momentarily stunned.
Then Su Cha caught sight of the nearby vehicle and quickly said, “It’s windy. You should get inside.”
As he spoke, a gust swept through, tugging at the king’s pant legs.
Su Cha narrowed his eyes in disapproval—he definitely wasn’t wearing thermal pants.
How could he not wear thermals?
He’d regret it when he got chronic leg pain.
The fatherly look from earlier now turned into the sharp-eyed gaze of a nagging mother.
Though Su Cha didn’t show it too obviously, the king keenly picked up on the subtle scolding in his eyes.
In that moment, their roles almost seemed reversed—he was the child now.
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