Su Cha hadn’t had time to consider what Ji Tianjin meant by “lively” before a soldier in the distance saluted and made a hand gesture toward him.
Realizing it was a signal that Ji Tianjin was starting combat training, Su Cha stepped back to the edge. The next moment, the gate lifted automatically, and the soldiers, after unlocking the shackles on the strange beasts, retreated quickly.
Ji Tianjin released his spirit form; a low tiger’s roar burst out like spring thunder.
Su Cha could imagine just how strong he was now. Judging by his age, Ji Tianjin had already successfully passed his deep awakening.
About a dozen strange beasts rushed out, including one of a royal breed. Ji Tianjin maneuvered among them with ease. Su Cha sat on the sidelines clapping, imagining when he might also undergo a deep awakening.
He was so caught up in his daydreams that he didn’t notice Cyril approaching until he was almost beside him.
Blood surging a little from the heat of the scene, Su Cha stared at Ji Tianjin’s dazzling battle and couldn’t help but itch to join: “I want to train too. I want to be that strong.”
Cyril replied, “The training plan I designed will only begin after you achieve deep awakening.”
“…”
A once-in-a-century burst of enthusiasm was lightly dispersed with a single sentence.
Su Cha quickly accepted reality. Staring up at the glaring sun, he decided to head back for a nap.
At that point, Ji Tianjin had only five or six beasts left. After Su Cha left, Cyril moved his fingers slightly—those strange beasts dropped instantly, pierced through the brain by spirit force.
Seeing a slender figure approaching, Ji Tianjin turned and greeted, “Teacher.”
Cyril nodded. “You’ve made good progress.”
After pointing out two small flaws in his technique, the surrounding guards automatically withdrew—clearly Cyril had more to say.
“Originally, by my estimation, with Su Cha’s aptitude, he should’ve reached deep awakening upon waking this time.”
Unlike surface awakening, deep awakening required a burst phase. In simple terms, raw ability wasn’t enough—one’s vitality and spirit had to match.
Su Cha’s naturally lazy disposition was interfering with the awakening process.
Cyril hadn’t told Su Cha about this—it wouldn’t help. One couldn’t change personality through willpower alone in a short time.
Ji Tianjin ventured, “You want me to act out a scene—simulate danger to trigger Su Cha’s instincts?”
Cyril raised an eyebrow, surprised by his quick grasp of the idea.
It wasn’t unexpected Ji Tianjin guessed it. “Back in school, our instructors used the same trick during combat training.”
By staging a sneak attack on someone nearby, they’d stimulate Su Cha into action.
“…”
Cyril suddenly felt he should reassess Su Cha’s time spent at the academy.
***
The afternoon weather was great—perfect for slacking off.
After waking up, Su Cha unexpectedly heard that Ji Tianjin had gone to the planetary perimeter to battle strange beasts.
“I want to go watch too.”
It had been a while since he hunted beasts—aside from that casual throw the other night—he needed to reacquaint himself with the feeling of combat.
The butler nodded. “The King already gave orders—you may go, but must be under close guard.”
No hesitation. As soon as he decided, Su Cha was ready to go.
The most troublesome thing about strange beasts was their reproduction—they were like autumn locusts, never-ending.
A guard reminded him, “Your Highness, when disembarking, don’t forget to shield yourself with your Spiritual energy.”
Su Cha nodded. That much he knew.
Almost the moment he landed, his vision was filled with mounds of strange beast corpses, the stench of blood overpowering. He wasn’t sure how deployment usually worked, but there weren’t many soldiers stationed at the border today.
Ji Tianjin, the youngest among them, had blood that seemed particularly enticing to the beasts. More than a hundred of them were all swarming toward him.
Su Cha quickly ordered, “Help him.”
The guards hesitated. “But your safety, Your Highness—”
“That’s an order.”
The guards split into two groups and plunged into the beast tide to prevent them from forming an encirclement.
Even so, the situation around Ji Tianjin remained dire.
Su Cha timed his move and slipped to Ji Tianjin’s rear. Now, they had to watch not only for the beasts but also stray bullets from every direction.
Most of the soldiers were guarding the northern front. They had to make their way over.
Su Cha keenly noticed that Ji Tianjin’s attacks were slowing—was he injured?
The beasts surged forward, and now Su Cha was the final line of defense.
“I’ll count to three—run north.”
“One, two…” As the beasts dove in from all angles, Su Cha stepped in front of Ji Tianjin. “Go!”
Unlike others, whose spirit forms being destroyed would impact their own state, Su Cha had no such problem—though it did take a toll. Back when he first awakened, he even played a round of “fairy scattering flowers” voluntarily.
The lotus magnolia spirit he threw out: “…” B*stard.
It had known this would happen.
The magnolia was incredibly durable—its petals torn to shreds, yet it silently repaired itself.
“Cover us!”
Magnolia: “…”
Hasn’t it been covering you all this time?
Even now, Su Cha didn’t forget to encourage Ji Tianjin: “Don’t worry, I’ve got your back.”
Ji Tianjin paused briefly and replied instinctively, “I trust you.”
The magnolia, tangled up with beasts, wanted to smack both of them. Who was doing all the real work here?!
Fueled by righteous fury, the spirit went berserk—twisting off one head on the left, slapping another on the right. This time, Su Cha’s Spiritual energy had swelled tremendously after awakening, enough to sustain the magnolia for a while.
Still dragging Ji Tianjin toward the north, Su Cha occasionally flung out vines to block charging beasts.
The white tiger, too absorbed in its role, reflexively carried both Su Cha and Ji Tianjin on its back and sprinted forward. The magnolia continued playing meat shield at the rear.
Su Cha laid flat on the tiger’s back, clutching Ji Tianjin’s arm. “We’ll get through this.”
The magnolia glanced back and instantly blew its top.
Seriously? Now they looked like a family of three?
Its rage triggered a sudden transformation—its body expanded dozens of times, and outer petals shot out in every direction. They vanished midair only to reappear cutting into the supposedly impenetrable hides of the strange beasts, leaving deep, bone-revealing gashes.
Su Cha’s sprint slowed for half a beat.
What just happened?
A soft sigh echoed from the void. At some point, Cyril had appeared.
“It evolved.”
“Hm?”
“Your spirit form broke through first.”
If he wasn’t mistaken, judging by the level of Spiritual energy, Su Cha’s spirit form was now at least equivalent to a double-S grade.
From the moment Cyril appeared, Su Cha immediately realized something was off. For example, he shouldn’t have only been assigned two royal guards when going out. And considering the terrifying combat power of Fog Star’s soldiers, it was suspicious that today, the entire battlefront seemed to have been stretched thin.
Ji Tianjin finally explained: “The original plan was to trigger your deep awakening through stimulation.”
In their scenario, Su Cha was supposed to fight desperately as if gambling with his life—but unexpectedly, the latter just used his spirit form as a meat shield.
Lotus Magnolia still fighting in the front lines: “…”
Done chatting yet? If so, hurry up and pull it back.
In the end, Cyril took care of the remaining strange beasts. Lotus Magnolia’s every petal drooped in exhaustion, like Sadako crawling out of a TV screen, exuding pure resentment.
To be fair, Su Cha’s usage wasn’t wrong. Lotus Magnolia’s durability had reached an almost terrifying level.
It had the same laziness as its master, so it had focused on practicing recovery over time, channeling almost all its energy into defense. Even the space attack method it just used had been accidentally comprehended in a fit of rage.
Su Cha knew exactly what his spirit form was like—that’s why he used it this way.
“Sorry to make you guys waste your effort.” He scratched his head awkwardly.
Although Cyril had been there, Ji Tianjin still took a risk to cooperate, but in the end, Su Cha had squandered the opportunity.
“It wasn’t completely wasted,” Cyril said, squinting slightly.
A spirit form reflects its master best.
Judging by what just happened, it was anger that pushed Su Cha toward a breakthrough—not anything to do with personality.
“Let’s talk once we get back.”
By “back,” Cyril didn’t mean returning to the palace, but instead took Su Cha and Ji Tianjin directly to a military base on land.
Su Cha suddenly thought of something: “Are we going to Jibei Star?”
Cyril nodded.
Because he was personally leading, only a little over thirty battleships were dispatched. There were also several Fog Star ships already stationed at Jibei.
The conference was still more than half a month away, but Cyril had ordered an early departure. The Youth International Games would first hold an opening ceremony. If they left now, Su Cha could see his old friends from Galan Star a bit sooner.
Cyril’s personal warship was incredibly cool—every line was the result of countless design revisions. The emblem on the bow looked like a cold eye, silently overlooking all. Su Cha couldn’t help but stand beneath the massive vessel for a long while, snapping several pictures.
Once aboard, the seating wasn’t like the traditional rest areas with several seats in a row. Each spot was a luxury cabin. True to his tastes, Su Cha immediately picked the most extravagant-looking one.
While he sank into the seat, Cyril was explaining relevant knowledge to Ji Tianjin: “If you want to take down a fortified warship, brute force takes too long. The most direct method is to seize control of its piloting system.”
Although they were from different nations, Cyril, with his broad vision, didn’t hide anything from the younger man and openly shared his knowledge.
Over the past four years, Ji Tianjin had respectfully addressed Cyril as “teacher.”
While others were learning—and it was the most mind-numbing subject of mechanics—Su Cha fell asleep without a care. When he woke again, Ji Tianjin was gone.
“He went to get some nutrient meals,” Cyril said as Su Cha glanced around.
Staring at the ceiling of the warship, Su Cha lamented: “Why didn’t I inherit any mechanical talent?”
Fog Star’s technological level was exceptionally advanced—arguably beyond that of the Galan Empire. Nearly everyone here had at least basic engineering skills.
“No one is perfect. It’s enough if your friends are talented.”
“Ji Tianjin?” Su Cha pursed his lips. “He’ll have to return eventually.”
Right after saying that, he realized something: “You’re not thinking of poaching him, are you?”
“Poach?” Cyril half-lidded his eyes, as if hearing an amusing word. “My style is different from His Majesty of Galan.”
Then he tilted his head slightly and said, “If the offer is tempting enough, the scale in one’s heart will naturally tip.”
Cyril seemed to be calculating something. Su Cha couldn’t quite read his expression.
“That child complements you in many ways—he can help you.”
Just then, Ji Tianjin arrived carrying nutrient meals. With his 3S-level Spiritual energy, he had surely heard everything already.
Cyril, as expected, had likely known Ji Tianjin was approaching even earlier, yet he hadn’t lowered his voice or paused his words at all.
Ji Tianjin set down the extra portions: “Eat while it’s hot.”
Still half-sprawled, Su Cha looked up and saw Ji Tianjin’s physique—lean and angular, not overly muscular, but, like Cyril, filled with explosive power beneath a slim frame.
Even if he was lazy, Su Cha still had the energy to eat.
He sat up and began his meal, even asking for a book on Jibei Star to read while eating.
Jibei Star was unique—not abandoned due to a strange beast invasion. It had once been ruled by the Eternal Empire, but secretly, another faction called the Shiyuan Clan had risen. Made entirely of radicals, they aimed to overthrow the empire.
In Star Year 34, after three years of bloody war, the empire collapsed, and the Shiyuan Clan vanished. In recent years, they would occasionally reappear and cause disruption.
“They actually managed to bring down an empire,” Su Cha said in awe.
Ji Tianjin replied, “It’s said they possess a unique racial talent.”
Su Cha asked curiously, “If they overthrew the empire, why didn’t they set up a new government?”
“The Shiyuan Clan advocates for anti-imperialism. They believe in absolute freedom and are practically enemies of every major power.”
Su Cha paused in surprise. A belief like that would obviously destabilize every empire. Wouldn’t even a small alliance wipe them out in no time?
Sensing his thoughts, Ji Tianjin chuckled and said, “It only takes one superpower to destroy the Shiyuan Clan—but who would spend massive resources to benefit others? The Federation seems to allow them to exist on purpose, occasionally striking to boost public confidence.”
The briefing got a bit gory and affected his appetite, so Su Cha tossed the material aside and changed the subject.
“This departure was so rushed—I didn’t even have time to prepare gifts.”
If he really ran into Rong Shao and the others, he’d have nothing proper to give.
“There will be a lot of forces present—it’s very likely a temporary trading market will be set up.”
Departing early did have its advantages; they could find people to trade goods through bartering.
…
In fact, two top-tier factions had arrived even earlier than Fog Star.
On Jibei Star.
Just as the Federation soldiers were assembling, a red glow flashed across the sky. The leader immediately furrowed his brow: “The Zergs are here.”
They were hands down the most difficult race in the universe to deal with.
The Zergs had literally evolved from powerful insects and could still use their wings in combat even now. Because of their origins, even though they had humanoid forms, other planetary beings still harbored a “not of our kind” wariness toward them. Moreover, Zergs were notoriously domineering—textbook examples of being unreasonable and aggressive.
Of course, they had the strength to back it up.
Their warships were as aggressive in design as their people. They landed with barely any deceleration, kicking up dust clouds that darkened the faces of the Federation soldiers.
The ship’s hatch opened, and several high-ranking royal Zergs stepped out—followed by a relatively small and delicate figure.
Zergs were ruled by royal broods, and bloodline purity was paramount. As a royal insect, this youth was doted upon by the entire race.
“Yous,” the youth seemed to be in the middle of an argument, “don’t overdo it.”
“You’ll be staying here for half a month. Hiring the Craftsman Clan to build a suitable residence is perfectly reasonable.”
The youth rubbed his temples and glanced at the hundreds of accompanying warships behind him. “Was it really necessary to bring this many people?”
“…And these excessive living supplies—did it really make sense to dedicate an entire warship to them? Why on earth did you bring fresh flowers?”
The youth’s incessant complaints made the corners of the nearby Federation soldiers’ mouths twitch. As expected of the Zergs—their protectiveness and obsession with their royals were as extreme as ever.
The Federation President’s warship arrived shortly after. The youth cut off his grumbling and gave a polite nod to the President—after all, they were attending the same conference. Basic diplomatic courtesy was still in order.
Since they’d run into each other, they proceeded forward together.
The President’s secretary spoke at just the right time: “We’ve already had temporary housing constructed on Jibei Star—two-story wooden cabins.”
The royal Zerg named Yous scoffed, “I hear they were built hastily and don’t even have air conditioning.”
The secretary smiled like a fox, his tone sharp beneath the softness: “We overlooked that, apologies. It’s just that the others are staying for free—they didn’t make so many demands.”
The atmosphere immediately tightened.
As they walked on, a strong, fragrant floral scent wafted toward them.
Up ahead, over a hundred flower farmers were busy planting.
The Federation President looked at his secretary, who had already sent someone to inquire.
Soon, a soldier returned to report: “Fog Star hired them—to plant roses. Apparently, their little highness is used to opening the window every morning and seeing a hundred acres of rose fields.”
“……”
Growing roses on a waste star and maintaining them with spiritual power? Are they out of their minds?
“Excuse us, coming through.”
Fog Star soldiers already stationed on Jibei were transporting luxury villas ordered from the Craftsman Star.
One soldier saw the Zergs pause and asked, “Wanna group-buy?”
Yous asked instinctively, “Group what?”
“Abalone from Tooth-Ridge Star, Thousand-Ear Monkey Mushrooms from Lakefloat Nation, Five-Meat Combo from Boozeworth Star…” The soldier rattled off a long list of ingredients, all pre-planned by Su Cha’s nutritionist. Most required bulk orders to be delivered and some were hard to preserve. To avoid waste—and Su Cha’s potential displeasure—they had to coordinate orders carefully.
Yous directly refused after hearing the list.
The Fog Star soldier looked at the young royal they were guarding so fiercely and asked, “If you’re not ordering, what’s your noble prince going to eat?”
The youth himself replied with a few common dishes: “Clear-broth Blackskin Fish, Emerald Pearl Meatballs…”
These were all considered delicacies—but relatively ordinary ones. The Fog Star soldier shook his head. It seemed the world had seriously misunderstood the Zergs.
That subtle sigh echoed across the field, falling into the ears of both factions, and the scene quieted once more.
Zergs: “…”
How could anyone be even more indulgent than them?
Federation: “…”
How could anyone spoil someone more than the Zergs?
In the end, Fog Star went ahead and ordered the ingredients alone.
Originally, their warships were scheduled to arrive that day, but they ran into a pack of king-tier beasts mid-route and had to delay a few days.
During those days, some small planets—attending only the Youth Tournament and not the full summit—arrived one after another. When they saw entire cargo ships hauling fresh ingredients, their expressions turned… complicated.
“Zergs have gotten this outrageous?”
“Unbelievable.”
“Cough, keep it down. Just think it, don’t say it.”
A high-ranking Zerg royal passing by suddenly paused. To hell with your ancestors, he thought. What’s it to you?! We’re not even this excessive, okay?!
Zergs liked to use fists to silence rumors. After a fierce brawl, the truth finally came out—the ingredients were all for Fog Star’s little prince.
And so, new rumors emerged:
The Zergs… are falling behind.
They didn’t even dote on their royal heirs as much as Fog Star did for a prince who hadn’t even ascended the throne.
Unacceptable.
If they didn’t outdo Fog Star, wouldn’t it shame their own prince?
Helpless, the Zergs ordered their own food supplies—and even one extra cargo ship’s worth. Fog Star planted roses? They planted baby’s breath. Fog Star built villas? They built theirs too—with a deluxe swimming pool.
Then came the day word arrived: the little prince’s ship was nearing.
Fog Star soldiers began hand-painting fan signs. Rumors had spread that Su Cha loved singing, so they even wrote a song and were rehearsing a group performance.
Hearing the loud singing, the young Zerg royal leaned against the window, genuinely impressed: “It sounds pretty good.”
Behind him, the high-ranking royals wracked their brains but couldn’t come up with a single musical note. They truly had no musical talent in their genes and suddenly felt like the whole world had gone dark.
D*mn those Fog Star people. Please stop raising the bar—we’re getting rolled to death.
