By the time they returned to the palace, night had already fallen.
Land had things to report about the black hole, so Cyril asked the butler to escort Su Cha upstairs first.
“Which room would the little highness like to sleep in tonight?”
Without hesitation, Su Cha replied, “The most luxurious one.”
That bed looked extremely soft—perfect for a good sleep.
The butler asked again, “Will you be sleeping in that room for the whole night?”
Su Cha looked confused. “…What else would I do?”
“There’s a bell at the head of the bed. If Your Highness isn’t satisfied with the sleep, a cart will come during the night to escort you to another room.” After saying that, he asked Su Cha to pick a second option just in case.
Su Cha gave an awkward laugh and picked the dormitory-style room as a backup.
Fog Star people had an over-the-top way of pampering, but their care was quiet. The butler didn’t disturb Su Cha further and gently closed the door behind him.
There were many small nightlights in the room with varying brightness—clearly for fear Su Cha might be scared of the dark.
He flopped onto the luxurious bed and buried his face in the soft bedding. If it hadn’t been for that d*mn live-body experiment, he should’ve been sleeping in this bed for years already.
“Luan Zheng.” He rolled over, his eyes cold. The thought that Luan Zheng had been brought back with him and was probably suffering now made him feel a lot better.
Pulling the blanket over himself, Su Cha didn’t want to waste any more time thinking about that d*mned man. He shut his eyes to sleep.
Half an hour passed. An hour. Two a.m.
One sheep, two sheep, a thousand sheep… finally, in the darkness, a long sigh broke the silence.
Su Cha sat up: “I must not be cut out for enjoying luxury.”
He’d slept in that tiny dorm bed for too long. Suddenly getting a kingsize luxury bed, and he had insomnia?
He rubbed his temples. He hadn’t slept well on the battleship either—he was mostly awake. Su Cha didn’t consider himself the type to have trouble adjusting to new environments; he’d traveled to many worlds and adapted quickly every time.
He got up and took a sip of water. The chill in his expression crept back.
That soul-summoning ritual had clearly left some lingering effects.
If his soul weren’t damaged, it’d be fine—just a headache for a day or two. But in this state, he might not fully recover by the end of the month.
He only managed two or three hours of sleep that night. At nine sharp the next morning, the butler called him to eat—healthy routines still mattered.
Su Cha first washed his face with cold water, exercised for five minutes to get a bit of color in his cheeks, and then smiled as he opened the door: “Good morning.”
Seeing the little highness’s healing smile early in the day, the butler couldn’t help smiling too. “Good morning.”
Then he fulfilled his butler duties: “Was the room too hot?”
The young lord still had sweat on his temples.
Su Cha waved it off.
He had breakfast with Cyril. The chef went all out, serving a table full of non-repeating dishes.
Everything came in small plates—just enough to sample without feeling overly full.
Su Cha’s attention drifted to the ice water by Cyril’s hand, which had pretty little ice spheres in it. Was he supposed to just let that slide?
“You should drink more warm water,” he said with a smile. But the sharpness in his eyes made the words unsettling.
Cyril’s hand paused slightly on the knife and fork.
Behind him, the butlers looked at everything but the table—one at the crystal chandelier, one at the floor. If they weren’t mistaken… was the king being lectured?
Well deserved.
One butler who had served the royal family for nearly a century had always disapproved of Cyril’s habits. Because of blood boiling in his veins when he was younger, Cyril preferred icy things. The butler had raised concerns long ago, but Cyril ignored it. To mention it again would be overstepping.
But now, someone finally had the authority to rein him in.
Cyril didn’t replace the ice water—but he didn’t touch it again either.
His table manners were flawless. Su Cha, by contrast, was more relaxed. He swapped the fork and knife for chopsticks and picked out dishes he liked.
The two ate in silence. Cyril had a small appetite and quickly lost interest in food, but he waited until Su Cha wiped his mouth with a napkin before setting his cutlery down.
“Go back upstairs and rest a bit more.”
Cyril knew Su Cha hadn’t slept well. The emotional turmoil the boy went through was too intense. Being in the same castle, Cyril could more or less sense it. Of course, with his ability, he could’ve easily blocked such sensations—but he didn’t.
Likewise, Su Cha also noticed Cyril didn’t rest well. He wondered if the reaction during his headache last night had somehow been transmitted to the other man.
Lying back in bed, the curtains filtered out the sunlight.
Su Cha didn’t think much longer. His head began to throb again. The pain was so intense he didn’t even have the strength to write to Ji Tianjin and the others to let them know he’d arrived safely.
He began to suspect the recurring headaches weren’t just lingering effects.
“Kill him, kill him.” Memories infiltrated like smoke. Su Cha was back in that prison cell, curled up, drenched in cold sweat.
“Dig out his demon bead.”
Even after all this time, the sound of blades cutting into flesh was still crystal clear.
Su Cha even considered banging his head against the wall to knock himself out. If this continued, Cyril was bound to notice something was wrong. How would he explain? Say his soul was injured? Or that someone was summoning his spirit?
D*mn it, he finally realized the ritual might not have stopped at all.
Just as he felt on the verge of collapse, Su Cha suddenly remembered something and violently shivered.
Focusing on his breathing, he forced himself to think deeper.
In fact, when Land first mentioned the various factions fighting over the wormhole, Su Cha had already started to feel suspicious. After speaking with Land, he did some research and confirmed that Fog Star wasn’t the only race known for pampering its young. The Zerg, for example, was also extremely protective.
The system choosing to send him to Fog Star was strange.
As a returning to ancestor-type being, his infancy would likely be even more fragile. The system promised to preserve his original demonic power, probably just to help him survive.
Going to this much trouble didn’t align with the system’s usual behavior.
“Telepathy, pureblood, bonds… could it be thinking…”
“Mhm.”
The sudden reply made Su Cha look up with a start. The mechanical doll was standing by his bed without him even noticing.
The system always showed up at critical moments. Just like last time, it placed a hand on his wrist and transferred energy to ease the pain. Su Cha felt much better.
Sitting up against the ornate headboard, drenched in cold sweat, he didn’t even bother to ask how it got in. “You want to confuse the soul-summoning target.”
There were two advantages to being reincarnated as a Fog Star person—one, the bloodline bond; and two, their frail infancy. That meant his soul lantern, far away, wouldn’t light up easily.
“The Fog Star king has a very powerful soul. One summoning won’t affect much. He’s even destroyed soul-summoning altars in the past.”
The system spoke calmly. “But unfortunately, his soul is too strong. It can only be summoned for a moment—otherwise, this would’ve been over already.”
Everyone who needed to die was already dead.
Su Cha’s head started to throb again. “So now I’m being summoned randomly—and what about Cyril?”
Even if, as the system claimed, there was no actual harm, any normal person would be disturbed.
The system stood elegantly to the side, face practically saying “Not my problem.”
“…If I get summoned back, how do I explain it?”
Say it’s karma from my past life?
Still that same “Not my problem” expression. The system only handled messes and, if needed, helped its host escape.
Just as Su Cha was about to emphasize that it wasn’t possible, the system anticipated his anticipation: “I was only speaking offhand. The soul-summoning uses the connection between the demon bead and your demonic power—how could it be so easily confused?”
Back then, the other party had his demon bead gouged out alive. His clansmen used that, in coordination with the altar, to summon his soul without needing birth details.
Su Cha didn’t relax after hearing that. Theoretically, it made sense—but any time the system didn’t flatly deny something, that usually meant things were more complicated.
Just in case, he decided to add a safeguard.
Every day at noon, the enormous palace would fall into a deep silence, like night had come.
That was the fixed time when Cyril entered a stasis pod to repair internal injuries. During this period, neither butlers nor royal guards were allowed to move about this area.
…Su Cha was the exception.
There was no place in the entire palace he couldn’t go.
The stasis pod was located in the underground palace.
No one moved nearby, but this was still the safest place—any hint of killing intent would immediately be sensed by Cyril.
Su Cha stood outside the hidden door without entering. This distance was enough.
He raised an arm and released his spirit form, planning to burn some demonic power to cast the Flower God’s Blessing. This ritual could ward off misfortune and stabilize the soul to some extent—though it had no effect on himself.
The system let him fuss around, even helping to seal off the space to reduce his presence.
“You do your thing, I’ll do mine.”
Su Cha’s eyelid twitched.
“If, in the end, you still can’t outplay me, then we’ll go with my method.”
Once the space was fully sealed, the system signaled he could begin.
“Wrap it up quickly,” it added.
Fog Star beings had spatial talents—it couldn’t come and go freely and might retreat at any moment.
Su Cha closed his eyes, pressed two fingers together, and summoned firefly-like lights dancing at his fingertips. His spirit form circled nearby, helping suppress his lingering headaches to keep him calm.
He hadn’t used this move in a long time—almost forgotten how.
Su Cha kept searching for the right rhythm, pouring himself into the spell. His fingers glided like fish in water, as if stirring something unseen.
The system seemed to say something during the process, but Su Cha was too focused to hear clearly. He was only one step away from finishing, and he needed to complete it in one go.
The ball of light grew, shining brightly—then gradually turned translucent—
“Ula.”
Su Cha dropped to his knees, arms outstretched, making a gesture like embracing the heavens.
Click. The hidden door opened.
Su Cha froze. Eyes opening slowly, he looked down—and sure enough, met Cyril’s naturally sharp gaze head-on.
“….” And realized what the system had been trying to warn him just now—it was telling him to stop.
Cyril had been lying in the stasis pod, fully aware Su Cha was nearby. He thought the boy was simply wandering around curiously. But when he noticed Su Cha lingering in the same spot, he assumed something was troubling him and came out to check.
He did not expect to walk into this scene.
Cyril ascended the staircase, his gaze calmly sweeping over Su Cha’s strange posture and even stranger spirit form.
Su Cha swallowed and explained, “I saw this ritual in an ancient book. It uses dance and song to expel evil and heal illness.”
Cyril didn’t react oddly. He simply asked, “Does it work?”
Su Cha nodded like a pecking chick. “You see how fit I am? I could smash stones with my chest. All thanks to my daily ritual dancing.”
Cyril seemed to accept this explanation.
Until Su Cha slipped away with an awkward smile—Cyril summoned several royal guards and gave a few short instructions.
The rest of the afternoon, nearly every ancient book in the palace archives was flipped through. Before sunset, the guards came back to report.
“This kind of ritual the young lord described does exist.”
Hearing there was a record of it, Cyril’s expression eased. At least the child wasn’t delusional.
The guard continued, “It’s called ‘Deity Jumping.’ Usually requires two people: one acts as the ‘primary god,’ the other as the ‘secondary.’”
Cyril thought back to the scene. The spirit form probably counted as an assistant.
“Does it work?” he asked.
“Hard to say… but out of ten sick people, nine who got jumped ended up dead.”
“…”
