Chu Shiye looked at Ji Mian with innocent eyes, conveying that he didn’t plan to do anything—at most, he just wanted to snuggle.
Ji Mian remained unmoved, making it clear that even snuggling was off the table. You bite.
Chu Shiye glanced at the back of Ji Mian’s neck. “If it hurts, I can massage it for you.”
Ji Mian: “It doesn’t hurt. No.”
Chu Shiye opened his mouth to say something else, but Ji Mian cut him off: “Alphas and Omegas shouldn’t be too intimate, you know.”
Chu Shiye: “……”
This was his Omega, not someone else’s.
Still… A-Mian was a little sensitive to pain.
Next time, he’d have to be gentler.
The two continued walking. Ji Mian asked, “What are your thoughts on this place?”
What he really wanted to know was Chu Shiye’s feelings toward the empire—and toward his biological father, North.
Chu Shiye: “No thoughts. I just hate it here.”
He elaborated for Ji Mian: “He didn’t actually want me to be crown prince. I could tell—he just wanted to use me.”
Malice and goodwill were things he could distinguish at a glance.
Ji Mian nodded slightly and patted Chu Shiye’s head. “You’re fine just the way you are. Don’t mind those people. The problem lies with them.”
Chu Shiye: “Mm.”
A faint breeze swept through the flower field, carrying a thick floral scent. Ji Mian suddenly halted, his gaze sharpening, and Chu Shiye’s expression turned icy.
Not far ahead of them, amidst the flowers, stood a familiar figure.
“Ah, finally found you.”
—Dorn.
“I didn’t expect you to run all the way here,” Dorn said with a smile. “But it doesn’t matter. After all, His Majesty originally intended to bring you here, little prince.”
Chu Shiye coldly met his gaze, while Dorn’s eyes shifted slightly toward Ji Mian: “What a pity. If Mr. Ji hadn’t appeared here with the young prince, I might have let you leave.”
Chu Shiye immediately stepped in front of Ji Mian, shielding him. Ji Mian gently grasped his hand, raising an eyebrow slightly: “Because this is the empire’s unspeakable secret?”
“Or rather, His Majesty’s unspeakable secret,” Dorn replied. “After all, this was all his doing. It has nothing to do with us.”
His words made Ji Mian realize something.
This sea of flowers beneath the palace was undeniably linked to North—perhaps even directly facilitated by him.
But the true mastermind behind it wasn’t North. It was Dorn.
And behind Dorn, there might be others.
“I’m a reasonable man. Right now, I can still offer you a choice,” Dorn said. “Young prince, you can pretend you never saw this and return to being the Crown Prince. As for Mr. Ji… I must ask you to stay here and cooperate with us in a small experiment.”
Chu Shiye’s eyes turned icy: “Impossible.”
Dorn sighed: “Then there’s nothing to be done… though this was expected.”
“This sea of flowers was dyed with the blood of ability users.”
“Now, your blood can add another shade to it.”
Before the last syllable fully faded, a resonant dragon’s roar shook the sky.
The white dragon descended like a divine being. Dorn marveled: “So the imperial bloodline truly carries the lineage of dragons.”
“Killing you is a shame, but your corpse will still make excellent research material.”
The Light Goddess Butterfly fluttered its wings, alighting on the white dragon’s head. Ji Mian’s voice was cold and devoid of warmth: “The only one who will die here is you.”
Dorn: “Oh? I look forward to it.”
His eyes darkened, the whites swallowed by inky blackness, like spilled ink.
Psychic Suppression!
Chu Shiye’s vision trembled violently, as if being torn apart. Ji Mian felt the same agony, but he bit his tongue sharply—the piercing pain jolted his mind awake.
A silver-blue glow flickered in his eyes, rising and falling like tidal waves.
The Light Goddess Butterfly’s tail scattered shimmering stardust, an illusory sea of light flooding the flower field—though dimmer than before.
Even so, Chu Shiye felt the pressure on him lessen slightly, his vision clearing a fraction.
Dorn: “An ant trying to shake a mighty tree—pitiful and laughable.”
A shrill cry pierced the air as an owl, massive as a hill, swooped down. The white dragon’s skeletal wings unleashed a gale, launching like a cannonball to collide with the owl.
The owl was Dorn’s psychic entity. For years, he had rarely revealed it to others.
This was the first time Ji Mian and Chu Shiye had truly fought this S-level psychic-type ability user. Though they had anticipated his strength, Dorn’s power still surpassed their expectations.
Bathed in the Light Goddess Butterfly’s azure light, the white dragon clashed with the owl—yet failed to gain the upper hand.
The silver-blue glow in Ji Mian’s eyes dimmed, but like a flickering candle in a gale, it refused to be extinguished.
Psychic energy was the most potent weapon of a psychic-type ability user—and his as well.
But now, he couldn’t suppress Dorn at his peak, nor could Chu Shiye.
Though Dorn was also injured, the ones pushed to the brink were still Ji Mian and Chu Shiye.
An unknowable amount of time passed. The battle seemed decided. Dorn shook his head with a sigh: “What a shame. You’re just a little dragon, after all.”
He then smiled at Ji Mian.
“And you—you don’t even understand the power you possess.”
The owl shrieked. The black in Dorn’s eyes deepened, his psychic energy unleashed without restraint.
This was his full-strength strike—his last. Though his expression remained calm, he knew that prolonging this fight might not end in his favor.
Under the terrifying psychic pressure, Chu Shiye felt as if his organs were being crushed. Blood spilled from his lips.
A pair of slender hands gently touched his face.
Chu Shiye looked down. Blood stained the corner of Ji Mian’s mouth as he whispered: “Don’t move.”
“Remember when your psychic entity first awakened?”
“It might hurt. Endure it.”
Chu Shiye realized what Ji Mian intended. The white dragon spread its wings again, shielding them both.
Dorn narrowed his eyes. The owl circled high before diving down. The white dragon, fearless, roared and charged.
The Light Goddess Butterfly fluttered around the two, its glow weaving between them. Ji Mian connected his psyche to Chu Shiye’s, delving once more into his mental world.
At the edge of the vast desert, the abyss that severed the sands still yawned wide.
Ji Mian knew of a method—to share his own psychic energy with Chu Shiye. But it was dangerous. A single misstep, and he might lose himself in Chu Shiye’s mind forever.
Of course, he wouldn’t tell Chu Shiye that.
He stepped onto the edge of the abyss—and without hesitation, plunged into its depths.
The Light Goddess Butterfly dissolved into azure stardust, merging into his being. In that moment, he became the scattered light, slicing through the endless dark.
A silver-blue radiance erupted, like a galaxy unfurling across the cosmos, pouring into the abyss. Strands of light connected, weaving a luminous sea to fill the bottomless chasm.
The abyss trembled. The fissures slowly closed.
In reality, Chu Shiye bent over in agony, enduring pain like his spine was being ripped out—yet he made no sound.
The white dragon flickered, its form unstable under its master’s psychic turbulence. The owl seized the advantage, pinning the dragon beneath its talons, its beak descending like a guillotine—
Then, Chu Shiye suddenly lifted his head.
Golden light erupted in his eyes.
The white dragon’s skeletal wings sprouted flesh. Gold shimmered across its scales. Its pupils burned with solar fire.
In an instant, the owl’s massive body crashed to the ground.
The white dragon’s claws pierced through, tearing it apart.
Dorn, caught off guard by the sudden turn of events, coughed up a mouthful of blood uncontrollably, his eyes streaming with two gruesome trails of bloody tears.
The white dragon, bathed in golden light, threw back its head and let out a long roar that pierced the sky. At this moment, it seemed to have transformed into a true golden dragon.
Then, Chu Shiye turned his head, those blazing golden eyes locking onto Dorn with icy precision.
In that instant, the psychic suppression Dorn had prided himself on had no effect on him whatsoever.
Shock flickered in Dorn’s eyes. The smiling mask he had always worn shattered, and with it, his confidence crumbled.
He had never imagined he would lose—lose to these two young men he had dismissed as mere fledglings.
“Impossible!”
Dorn, his face streaked with bloody tears, roared in fury.
“I will not die here—I will not—”
His voice cut off abruptly.
These were the last words the only S-level psychic-type ability user in the interstellar world would ever speak.
Blood splashed across Chu Shiye’s expressionless face as the short blade in his hand plunged into Dorn’s heart.
This had been the most tenacious, the most formidable enemy he had ever faced.
Yet Dorn’s death was far more valuable than his life had ever been.
Still, the counterattack had drained nearly all of Chu Shiye’s remaining strength. Staggering to his feet, he turned.
Ji Mian stood amidst the sea of flowers, smiling as he stretched out his hands toward him.
Without hesitation, Chu Shiye rushed forward and pulled his Omega into his arms.
Then, he heard Ji Mian murmur softly, “I’m a little tired. I’ll sleep for a while.”
“Don’t bite me.”
Chu Shiye: “……”
Ji Mian leaned against his shoulder and fell into a deep slumber. Chu Shiye tightened his embrace, silently studying the pale, beautiful features of the man in his arms.
Slowly, he lowered his head and pressed a tender, reverent kiss to the corner of Ji Mian’s lips.
A breeze stirred the flower petals, carrying the scent of dried blood into the soil where the roots lay buried. Gently, Chu Shiye lifted the unconscious Ji Mian and, behind the spot where Dorn had first appeared, found a hidden passage.
The tunnel led back to the surface. When he emerged into the palace grounds with Ji Mian in his arms, he found chaos had already taken hold.
—Just moments ago, North, Emperor of the Atlan Empire, had passed away.
The news struck Chu Shiye’s ears with such abruptness that even he froze for several seconds.
Amidst the rising wails and the panicked crowd, Chu Shiye carefully shielded Ji Mian in his arms until he spotted Derek and Jagr.
They hurried toward him but halted mid-step, as if they had collided with something unseen.
“He’s dead, and that’s that. Do you really think your weeping from dawn till dusk will bring him back?”
A clear, melodious voice cut through the cacophony of grief like a blade. Surrounded by a retinue of maids, a tall, raven-haired woman appeared, her crimson gown trailing behind her like the petals of a scarlet rose.
No introduction was needed.
Chu Shiye knew exactly who she was.
North’s empress. Dorn’s daughter.
Helena.
Her striking eyes, accentuated by red eyeshadow, swept over the scene before settling on Chu Shiye. A single glance seemed to be all it took for her to recognize exactly who he was.
Then, she lifted her chin slightly.
“His Majesty publicly declared his last will—his only heir shall inherit his throne.”
Helena’s voice rang out, firm and unyielding.
“From this day forward, you are the Empire’s new Emperor.”
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