The red mangrove forest loomed like a cathedral of blood-hued spires, its gnarled roots clawing into the shimmering, brackish waters of Verdant. The air was heavy with the musk of decay and the acrid bite of starbug ichor, while the sky above flickered with the last vestiges of a jaundiced sun, casting long, sinister shadows across the alien terrain. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the faint slosh of water against mech boots and the distant hum of their engines.
As the four cadets from Tianquan Military Academy sprinted through the undergrowth, they arrived just in time to witness a blood-eyed starbug erupt from a concealed nook. Its grotesque form was a nightmare made flesh: a pulsating mass of crimson orbs, each fringed with writhing black pupils that gleamed with malevolent hunger. Its abdominal maw gaped wide, revealing twin rows of needle-sharp fangs, while soft, alabaster tendrils shot forth from around its eyes, lashing toward two unsuspecting students with predatory precision.
"Behind you!" Cen Yuehuai's shout pierced the air. Her mech's wings ignited in a blaze of orange light, propelling her skyward. She drew her bow, nocking three flaming arrows in a single fluid motion. The arrows streaked through the air like a meteor shower, hurtling toward the starbug's bloodied eyes.
Sensing the assault, the creature's pupils swiveled, and it recoiled two meters under the arrows' relentless momentum.
Boom!
The arrows struck the ground, detonating in a surge of fire that painted the mangroves in fleeting, infernal light. The blaze formed a barrier, separating the starbug from its prey.
The two students, caught off guard by the sudden chaos, whirled around. Their faces paled as they glimpsed the blood-eyed horror, their scalps prickling with dread. Instinctively, they piloted their mechs backward, retreating from the monstrous threat.
The flames subsided after mere seconds. As the fiery curtain fell, the starbug leapt into the air, its tendrils snapping outward with such speed they blurred into faint, ghostly streaks.
Fortunately, the students were now alert. They hefted their extermination sprayers, unleashing a torrent of potion that exploded into a thick, white fog, enveloping the area in a blinding haze.
Xino's eyes twitched, a sinking feeling settling in his gut.
The blood-eyed starbug's agility far surpassed that of typical mutated beasts. Even for seasoned fighters like Xino and Yu Yan, who moved with near-instinctive precision, such a creature demanded caution.
These two students, dousing the area in so much potion that it obscured their surroundings, had unwittingly tilted the battlefield in the starbug's favor. The fog was a hindrance to them, but to the starbug, it was a cloak.
Cen Yuehuai perched atop a towering mangrove crown, her bow trained on the misty mass below, her brow furrowed in concentration.
Xino and Yu Yan exchanged a glance, then charged into the fog, their long knives flashing. After a flurry of strikes, they emerged, each hoisting a mech over their shoulder like sacks of grain.
The fog had yet to fully dissipate when several slender tendrils whipped out, coiling around Xino and Yu Yan's ankles.
Baisha thrust her spear forward, severing the white tendrils with a single, precise stroke. She surged two steps closer, her movements unhesitating as she drove her spear into the heart of the mist—
Splurch!
A brief, anguished wail echoed from within.
Baisha withdrew her spear, black-red ichor congealing into beads that dripped onto the ground. The spear's blade remained pristine, glinting like frost under the dim light.
As the last wisps of fog cleared, the blood-eyed starbug's corpse lay still, its grotesque form splayed across the earth.
…Had they killed a starbug so easily?
"Ahem, uh, classmates, thank you for the timely rescue," the student slung over Xino's shoulder said, his voice tinged with embarrassment. "Could you maybe put us down? We can walk ourselves… Wait, these trees—"
Before he could finish, the ground beneath them buckled, sinking with a guttural groan. The surrounding mangroves surged upward at a visible rate, their scarlet leaves cascading like blood droplets, their branches swelling grotesquely. Above, the already dim sunlight was devoured by the encroaching canopy, transforming the forest into an impenetrable cage.
Countless blood-eyed starbugs emerged from the bark, their black pupils narrowing into slits, quivering with anticipation for the hunt. Then, with a cacophony of tearing wood, they leapt from the treetops, raining down like a plague.
"I—@#$%!" the student on Yu Yan's shoulder let out a primal scream. "Run!"
Baisha and the others ignited their mech engines, bolting through the chaos.
Baisha led the charge, her spear executing a triple dragon strike, flinging six or seven screeching starbugs aside. Her white metal wings unfurled, morphing into twin particle cannons. Blue beams swept the sky, incinerating approaching starbugs into ash before they could utter a sound.
Yet even Baisha's formidable firepower couldn't stem the tidal wave of starbugs.
Xino, despite carrying a student, wielded his chain-knife with devastating range. Yu Yan, however, was hampered. His heavy sword, Jingni, required both hands for its full potential, but with a mech on his shoulder, his strikes were cautious and restrained.
Yu Yan and Cen Yuehuai locked eyes.
"Wait, what are you—don't throw me—argh!" the student wailed as Yu Yan leapt skyward, hurling him toward Cen Yuehuai. Jingni unsheathed, its blade flashing with cold light, felling a swath of starbugs in a single, dazzling sweep.
The tossed student: "…"
He'd been narrow-minded, holding back a master's performance!
Cen Yuehuai, too swift to be burdened, set her passenger down to run on his own. Xino followed suit, releasing his charge.
The two mechs trailed the Tianquan quartet, struggling to keep pace with Baisha's blistering speed, too focused to engage the starbugs themselves.
"We've been running forever—where's the backup?" Cen Yuehuai snapped, switching her Rainbow Rain to melee mode. She bisected two lunging starbugs with a single slash. "Weren't the student zones supposed to be close?"
"The terrain's changed," Baisha said, eyeing the uneven ground. "They can't pinpoint us easily."
"This is insane… No wonder that first starbug was so weak—there are so many!" Xino's gaze darkened. "Why aren't they eating each other now? They're all coming for us!"
"Maybe this is the true 'symbiotic entity,'" Yu Yan said, his voice rising with icy clarity. "Their endgame is to devour and merge, fighting for control of the collective consciousness. But their hunting instinct unites them—they don't need to compete for dominance when they can cooperate to feed."
"We can't hold out for half an hour like this!" Cen Yuehuai shouted. "These things are relentless!"
"We need to signal for help," Baisha said.
Cen Yuehuai moved to release her mental entity but was stopped by one of the trailing students. "Wait! These starbugs want to drain our mental force. Using your entity for attacks is fine normally, but with this many, it'll be consumed before it escapes the mangroves!"
Cen Yuehuai froze, sweat beading on her brow.
Then, a delicate, crystalline birdsong rang out.
Looking up, they saw a pure-white sparrow darting through the air, chirping "cheep-cheep" as it soared skyward.
The student who'd spoken gaped, horrified. "Whose mental entity is that?"
Who among these elite Tianquan cadets would have such a tiny, fragile entity? Releasing it now was like serving it to the starbugs on a platter!
Cen Yuehuai's eyes widened, her hand instinctively reaching for the sparrow. But the little bird, Little White Cheep, dodged with agile grace, rocketing toward the heavens like a missile.
"Your Highness!" Cen Yuehuai called, her voice thick with worry.
Baisha shrugged helplessly. "It insisted on coming out!"
Cen Yuehuai: "…"
Only she and Baisha could fathom the whims of a headstrong mental entity.
Still, Little White Cheep had once single-handedly felled a monstrous tree with moves sharper than all three of them combined. Perhaps it was the starbugs' natural nemesis, capable of protecting itself.
"Cheep! Cheep!"
The sparrow dove fearlessly at two starbugs, its tiny claws raking bloody scratches across their eyes. The starbugs recoiled, their white tendrils snaring the bird.
"Cheep-cheep-cheep!"
Little White Cheep thrashed wildly, turning to Baisha for rescue.
Baisha and Cen Yuehuai: "…"
Cen Yuehuai's mouth twitched as she rushed forward, dispatching the two starbugs. Little White Cheep fluttered free.
"What's wrong with you?" Baisha asked, skewering two more starbugs as she approached her entity. "Addicted to being useless?"
The sparrow perched on her shoulder, tilting its head as if aggrieved.
Baisha frowned. It had been so fierce last time—why was it faltering against these blood-eyed starbugs?
"Cheep-cheep!" Suddenly, Little White Cheep took flight, darting toward one of the rescued students. It pecked twice at his mech's energy core, producing two clear clinks.
"I'm not a woodpecker—why are you pecking my mech?" the student said, half-laughing, half-exasperated, dodging the relentless bird. "Help! Can someone control their mental entity?"
He looked up, only to find Baisha's piercing gaze fixed not on him, but on his mech.
A chill ran down his spine.
"Classmate," Baisha said, a dangerous smile curling her lips, "does your mech use an embedded energy core?"
Most imperial mechs ran on flowcrystal, a semi-liquid energy that coursed through their systems like blood, replenished when depleted. But some used embedded energy cores—self-contained power sources, like batteries, easily swapped when exhausted.
The student stammered, "Y-yes… Why?"
"Could I borrow one?" Baisha asked, her tone deceptively genial.
The student: "???"
He nearly wept. In the face of such danger, she wanted to strip his mech's core? That was a death sentence!
"Think about it," Baisha pressed. "Without us, you and your friend wouldn't have lasted. You're dead either way—why not help us out and lend a core?"
The student: "…"
"That's too much!" his companion interjected, stepping forward.
The student nodded, relieved. "You think they're out of line too, right—"
"I'm talking about you," his companion said, turning on him with a straight face. "They just saved us from a starbug horde and protected us the whole way. It's just one core—I'd have given it up already!"
The student: "…"
"You try saying that when it's your core! Do you know how expensive these are?"
"I'll pay you triple when we're out," Baisha said, her mechanical hand flashing three fingers. "Deal? We're out of time."
The student swallowed hard, agreeing with a mix of grief and fury. "Fine. But we're not mechanics—we don't know how to remove it…"
In a flash, Baisha was at his side, a screwdriver materializing in her mechanical hand. Within seconds, she'd pried open a panel of his mech's armor.
The student: "…"
Xino, Yu Yan, and Cen Yuehuai, seeing Baisha occupied, formed a defensive ring around her and the student, fending off the relentless starbugs.
A minute later, Baisha extracted a deep blue energy core, as clear as a gemstone and half the size of her palm.
She paused. This student had clearly spared no expense on his mech—this core was massive, its purity notwithstanding.
No time to dwell. A desperate plan was better than none.
She held the core to Little White Cheep. "Will you eat this?"
The sparrow's eyes gleamed, chirping "cheep-cheep" with glee. It landed in Baisha's palm, closing its eyes. A storm seemed to erupt within the core, blue stardust swirling into the bird's body. The core dimmed, its light fading…
As the blue glow around Little White Cheep dissipated, it appeared… noticeably plumper.
Its black bean-like eyes glared, chest puffed, legs splayed, every feather radiating regal majesty.
It let out a triumphant cry.
"Chirp—CHEEP!"
Baisha: …Was this fat bird about to become a fat chicken?
Little White Cheep shot skyward, a white blur.
The mangroves reacted, their branches weaving a dense net to block its path.
Then, the massive shadow from before reappeared around the sparrow, its form clearer now—a graceful bird with a flowing, ornate tail, ethereal and majestic…
The onlookers froze, awestruck.
That shadow… Was it the Xuan Bird?
Before they could process it, the radiant bird slammed through the mangrove barrier, shattering it with a single strike.
Faint, golden sunlight poured through, a beacon of hope in the oppressive darkness.
"Brilliant!" Cen Yuehuai cheered. "Now get help!"
But Little White Cheep didn't seek aid. It spread its wings, radiating audacious grandeur, and unleashed a deafening cry:
"CHIRP—CHEEP!"
The sonic wave surged outward, a tidal force that shook the earth and snapped branches overhead.
Baisha and the others clapped their hands over their ears. The invisible wave of mental force swept through, toppling the blood-eyed starbugs. Their pupils dilated, dazed by the psychic assault, stumbling and collapsing in disarray.
Cen Yuehuai, steadying herself, shouted over the din, "Your Highness—enough—I'm going deaf!"
Baisha, unable to read her lips, yelled back, "What?!"
After a dozen seconds, Little White Cheep ceased its attack.
Silence reclaimed the world.
Xino rubbed his ears, muttering about tinnitus. "Your Highness, a warning next time?"
Baisha massaged her temples, eyes closed. "Next time, promise."
Yu Yan glanced down, his voice calm. "They're out."
Baisha turned. The two rescued students lay slumped, unconscious from the sonic onslaught.
She was speechless.
Little White Cheep returned, nuzzling Baisha's cheek with a few soft "cheeps."
Cen Yuehuai, awed, asked, "What's it saying?"
"It wants to do it again," Baisha replied.
Cen Yuehuai: "…Can we try a different attack next time?"
"It just wants more energy cores," Baisha said.
Cen Yuehuai fell silent. Who else fed energy cores to a mental entity instead of a mech?
Yet, seeing Little White Cheep vanish contentedly into Baisha's mental space, Cen Yuehuai felt it was par for the course. That shadow had to be the Xuan Bird—no one expected its juvenile form to be a silver-throated sparrow!
Little White Cheep's efforts not only saved them but summoned reinforcements. A cry that loud couldn't go unnoticed.
The starbugs' fusion in the mangrove zone halted, and they captured numerous live—or half-dead—specimens. Baisha's team had exceeded their mission.
Two credits secured.
On the return journey, the four leapt from their mech cockpits, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder on the ground, chatting.
They discussed the two students who'd glimpsed Little White Cheep's second form before fainting.
In the spirit of camaraderie, Xino and Yu Yan had carried them to the rescue skiff, learning their names: Dongluo Military Academy students, combat majors, S-level mental force—average by academy standards. They'd been chosen for the volunteer team for their discipline and obedience.
"What about those two?" Xino asked Baisha quietly, sitting beside her. "They saw it. Should we arrange a gag order?"
If Baisha wished to keep her identity secret, even a fleeting glimpse of the Xuan Bird's shadow warranted caution to prevent leaks.
"Of all the starbug nests in the mangroves, they stumbled into this one," Cen Yuehuai chimed in. "Talk about bad luck… Speaking of, Xino, how do you plan to silence them? Eliminate them?" She mimed a throat-slitting gesture with exaggerated flair.
Xino raised an eyebrow. "What's with you? It's just intimidation and incentives. Keeping a secret isn't climbing a mountain of blades. A little persuasion is enough. If they're smart, they'll stay quiet without us saying a word. A gag order's just insurance." In case they were that reckless.
Baisha leaned back, exhausted, her vision blurring. "Let someone else handle it…"
She opened her wrist-mounted light-brain, sent a few messages, then closed her eyes, slipping into a light doze.
Meanwhile, on Tianshu Star, in the Han family estate.
Han Cong sat in the study of the main house. Sunlight streamed through the windows, bathing the room in a soft, golden glow. The air carried the faint scent of aged paper and polished wood, a testament to the room's scholarly sanctity.
Across from him, behind a grand desk, sat his uncle, Han Xi, the current head of the Cabinet. Flanking Han Xi were towering bookshelves laden with his cherished antique tomes. Against the wall, a rack held several digital photo frames of the Han family, their faces frozen in moments of joy. The frames had static and six-second dynamic modes, but Han Xi rarely activated the latter.
Today, however, was an exception.
"How have you been?" Han Xi asked, his tone even but laced with subtle concern.
"Fine. Work's been smooth," Han Cong replied formally. "Since Her Highness joined the academy, my schedule's largely unchanged."
"Even if Her Highness doesn't need you now, you must anticipate her needs," Han Xi said, his piercing gaze commanding authority. "That's a steward's duty."
Han Cong bowed his head, accustomed to his uncle's sternness. "Yes."
Han Xi studied his nephew, noting the composed defiance beneath his deference. He sighed, his eyes softening. "You're stubborn, like your father."
Han Cong remained silent.
"I rarely let those photos play," Han Xi said, glancing at the frames. "I can't bear to see the ones we've lost smile so vividly before me. Not just your father, but your mother… She grew up with him, like a sister to me."
A heavy silence fell.
Years ago, on this day, Han Cong had lost both parents, and Han Xi nearly all his family, save his nephew.
"I insisted you become Her Highness's steward," Han Xi said abruptly. "Still curious why?"
Han Cong looked up, his deep blue eyes probing, his sharp jawline accentuating his cool demeanor. "Must we discuss this today? Or is this itself a hint?"
"You said the Han family supports Her Highness unconditionally due to guilt—guilt toward Her Highness and the late Grand Princess," Han Cong continued. "That guilt… It's tied to my parents, isn't it?"
His bluntness caught Han Xi off guard.
Had he been too transparent, allowing Han Cong to piece it together so quickly?
Han Xi pondered, about to respond, when Han Cong's light-brain chimed.
Unusual, given today was the anniversary of his parents' passing—a time when both he and Han Xi set work aside to mourn.
"It's from Her Highness," Han Cong said, glancing at the message.
Han Xi's expression softened. "What does she need?"
"She's asked me to silence two students," Han Cong mused. "They're from another academy… Apologies, Uncle, I must leave early. I need to investigate their backgrounds."
Time and efficiency were critical for such matters.
Han Xi: "…"
A flicker of disbelief crossed his face before he sighed, his features tightening. "So it's come to this…"
Han Cong: "?"
"I don't know how much Her Highness resembles the Grand Princess," Han Xi said, his tone complex, emphasizing "unrestrained." "But her circumstances are unique—she can't afford to be as… unrestrained. At your age, you're not just her steward but half her mentor. You must guide her, urge restraint. Understood?"
Han Cong: "…Understood."