CR CH83

Chapter 83: The Empire (Part 1)

Even without utilizing abilities, at such a close distance, the other person’s breathing and certain subtle shifts were remarkably distinct.

Listening to the fading footsteps, Ling Kongmiao steadied the container swaying with the ripple of the water, picked up the honey water, and took a small sip. The sweet taste was blended with a faint trace of lemon.

He, too, seemed to be slowly growing accustomed to this somewhat reckless scent.

Perhaps because certain postures Jiang Tianji had used when approaching him in childhood bore a strong resemblance to the present, Ling Kongmiao accepted his actions quite well.

As for Jiang Tianji’s… interest in him, Ling Kongmiao didn’t feel particularly offended, just somewhat surprised.

As fellow Alphas, he didn’t feel he possessed anything that could attract someone of the same sex; whatever he had, the other person had as well.

Yet, recalling the past, Jiang Tianji’s gaze toward him had always been bright and shining, as if looking at something immensely treasured.

Perhaps he truly liked this face of his, but an Alpha was an Alpha after all.

While Jiang Tianji didn’t repel his pheromones, Ling Kongmiao had no immunity to Jiang Tianji’s pheromones either. Occasionally, when stimulated, his actions would turn rough, driven by a desire for conquest as his instincts urged him to suppress the other.

Moreover, the aggressive undertones in Jiang Tianji’s movements were unmistakable. With barely any effort to conceal his motives, Ling Kongmiao understood precisely what those eyes meant when looking at him—he could only say the kid had a lot of nerve.

Given his conditions, Jiang Tianji wouldn’t lack for companions around him in the future.

Within this current fondness, there wasn’t much naive emotion. When those dark green eyes locked onto someone directly and unflinchingly, beneath the calmness lay a sense of absolute determination.

Jiang Tianji was growing rapidly, but in the past, the trials Jiang Yan gave him were essentially thunderstorms inside a greenhouse. Having just stepped out into the wider world, there were still many things he didn’t understand.

For instance, he didn’t know that when your gaze always follows a person, the world slowly tilts toward them.

A gradually narrowing space wouldn’t trap that illusion; it would only lock oneself inside it.

Splash.

Ling Kongmiao pulled himself ashore, wrapped his bathrobe around himself, and walked toward the small cabin behind him.

“What is it?”

Closing the door behind him with a flick of his wrist, he asked in a certain direction while wiping his hair.

A dark shadow leaped down from the stairs. He possessed an utterly ordinary appearance, but at that moment, he bowed slightly, his hand instinctively resting at his waist where a sword was supposed to be—a physical habit characteristic of the Imperial Guards.

“Apologies, Yo…”

Upon encountering Ling Kongmiao’s chilling gaze, the man paused for a fraction of a second, lowering his voice to correct himself.

“Apologies for disturbing you.”

“Master sent me to remind you that His Majesty seems to have recently obtained some intelligence and has grown suspicious of you.”

Ling Kongmiao’s expression remained unchanged, seemingly unsurprised by the news.

“How are his preparations going?”

“Basically smooth, but the ‘Holy Envoys’ involve far too many things. Cleansing them will still take some time.”

The Empire’s “Holy Envoys” were an organization similar to the Hunter Association, though very few people knew it was backed by the Imperial Family.

While Hunters possessed special marking abilities, the Holy Envoys were similar, possessing “purification” abilities.

However, in the Empire, it operated more like a sort of religious sect, and the so-called purification was merely using spiritual power to control people’s minds.

Psychic-type abilities were rare to begin with, and the Empire’s awakening rate was extremely low. Thus, the Holy Envoys headquarters developed a method to extract spiritual power and inject it into microchips, while the Imperial Family granted the Holy Envoys a microchip equipped with a self-destruct program to ensure their absolute loyalty.

Unlike the Federation and the Beastmen, the Empire lacked the Federation’s freedom and the Beastmen’s faith.

As the power of the Imperial Family gradually slipped away, they created the Holy Envoys.

The entanglement went far beyond just the Empire; digging deeper revealed it to be merely one thread among many, with more roots intertwined in a complex web that could not be cleared away in a day or two.

“Master said that although he knows you are reluctant to see His Majesty, the timing is not yet ripe,” the Silver Guard said. “Your microchip’s control rights still remain in the other party’s hands. Even though you previously acquired some data at the Holy Envoys headquarters and achieved a degree of freedom using the Star Alliance’s technology, the ultimate command for that chip is self-destruction.”

“His Majesty has focused his energy elsewhere and hasn’t noticed anything abnormal, but if he truly decides to investigate thoroughly, you will be in great danger.”

Ling Kongmiao understood the situation well and nodded. “I know.”

“D-173 Snow Mountain has their handwriting on it,” Ling Kongmiao stated. “The Federation higher-ups wanted to get rid of me, and His Majesty grew suspicious, taking advantage of the situation to issue a warning through the snow mountain mission. Before long, he should demand that I return to headquarters.”

The allies of certain higher-ups no longer limited themselves to the Federation. If not for His Majesty wishing to test his attitude, the vote on that snow mountain mission should have at least resulted in a tie.

The Silver Guard nodded. “Right now, your identity in the Federation has become a burden. Master suggests that after you see His Majesty, you should try your best to return to the Holy Envoys headquarters. At least in the Empire, we can assist you.”

Ling Kongmiao did not reply immediately. A moment later, he shook his head slightly.

“Not yet.”

“Understood.” Pressing no further, the Silver Guard delivered his master’s message, bowed slightly, and took his leave.

His figure flashed outside and vanished into the night in the blink of an eye.

Tossing the towel aside casually, Ling Kongmiao sat down on the sofa. Leaning back against the soft cushions, he closed his eyes.

The master spoken of by the Silver Guard was the Empire’s Third Prince, Nolan Russell.

His first meeting with Prince Nolan could be traced back a long time ago—the day Aileen had kidnapped him.

Back then, Aileen was still a gold-medal assassin for a top-tier organization, and she had accepted a special commission where the employer was the Imperial Family.

Originally wanting nothing to do with muddy waters, she had no choice due to a shortage of money.

She had intercepted Ling Kongmiao from Hanyu Academy on the prime star and brought him straight to the Imperial Palace.

The imperial palace was luxurious, with gold and silver guards patrolling the perimeter in heavy iron armor. Led by the hand, Ling Kongmiao looked around with an uneasy expression.

Passing through the garden, he caught sight of a youth a little older than himself.

The youth wore a gentle expression, accompanied by attendants following closely behind, quietly gazing right at him.

Aileen later told him that the person was the Imperial Family’s Third Prince, and the candidate most likely to become the crown prince.

Yet even Aileen had not expected that her true employer was His Majesty the Empire himself.

That man sat high above in the palace, looking down at the child. When Ling Kongmiao nervously raised his head, he caught a flash of satisfaction cross the other’s eyes.

“You look a lot like her.”

That was the first sentence His Majesty had ever spoken to him. The second sentence was:

“I am your father.”

The man walked down the steps to pat his head with a cultured, gentle smile. Seeing Ling Kongmiao remain silent, he bent down, picked him up, and carried him toward the back garden.

“How is your mother?”

“…”

Ling Kongmiao kept his head down in utter silence, but His Majesty didn’t mind in the least, speaking on as if to himself.

He stayed in the Empire for a brief period—or perhaps soft detention was a more fitting description. Every day, he saw numerous envoys in white robes whose faces were covered, leaving only their eyes exposed.

Occasionally, he would hear attendants paying their respects, apparently addressing them as “Holy Envoys.”

His Majesty came to see him every few days. Faced with probing inquiries, Ling Kongmiao told a lie for the very first time.

He claimed he had been abandoned and had no idea where his mother was. Perhaps driven by a firm belief not to let his mother suffer any burden, he remained extraordinarily calm.

According to the information His Majesty had investigated, Ling Kongmiao indeed lived and studied alone at Hanyu Academy on the prime star, leading a life that showed no signs of any backing. The person providing for his education likely held no affection for him, merely treating it as charity.

His Majesty smiled, bent down to pick him up, and said, “Be a good boy and obey, and Your Imperial Father will treat you well.”

Immediately afterward, he was injected with a kind of catalyst that prematurely triggered his differentiation and awakening.

Ling Kongmiao’s talent was exceptionally high, and the awakened spiritual power was far beyond what a child could manage. Unlike physical pain, it was an entirely different torment.

His consciousness felt as though it were being torn into shreds, and every single “I” he could perceive was speaking on its own.

A single body carried countless voices, emotions, and sensory inputs, all attempting to manipulate this physical vessel. Some were running, some were laughing and playing, some claimed they needed to go water the flowers, while others were screaming at the top of their lungs.

Trapped inside the observation room by chains, Ling Kongmiao’s body convulsed uncontrollably while the overflowing spiritual power was harvested by specialized instruments. He carried far too many voices and emotions, rendering his own struggles as feeble as a mosquito’s buzzing.

Was it painful? Ling Kongmiao couldn’t quite remember. From a certain moment onward, his consciousness vanished, leaving a very long blank void.

During moments of brief lucidity, he seemed to catch glimpses of gardens, riverbanks, stars… Every time he woke up briefly, he saw different things. Once, he saw his own reflection in the glass.

His body twitched and convulsed, looking like a monster, unable to control actions that pulled in opposing directions.

“Wuwu…”

His vision gradually blurred. He heard a strange whimpering sound, followed closely by exclamations of shock from the crowd.

“——Not good! Quick…”

At the very edge of his vision, he seemed to collide into a soft embrace. The sound of shattering glass faded away, and all pain gradually dissipated.

“Our Miaomiao is the prettiest child.”

Ling Kongmiao heard his mother’s voice. He gripped her hand tightly, only to feel a wave of searing pain.

Looking down with hazy eyes, he realized he was only clutching a shard of glass.

Later… Ling Kongmiao woke up around noon one day, greeted by a pair of gentle eyes.

This youth looked very much like His Majesty. The gaze directed at him held undisguised nostalgia and a hint of envy, as if looking right through him at someone else’s shadow.

“Hello, my name is Nolan. I am your imperial older brother.”

The youth smiled at him, but he looked far too much like His Majesty.

And so, Ling Kongmiao—who had yet to recover from his nightmares—gave him a kick that sent him flying straight to the floor.

“Ugh!”

“Your… Your Highness!”

Their very first meeting concluded hastily amid the panicked cries of the attendants.