SZAR Chapter 118

With the major forums successively blocked, that night the game’s online population didn’t drop, it went up.

Players wandered idly on the map when suddenly a bright announcement grabbed their attention:

⟦ Shocking! Why Did the Empire’s Admiral Commit Treason and Collude With the Enemy? Click Here to See the Dark, Twisted, Perverted Mind of the Admiral! ⟧

The text was a vivid clash of yellow and purple, designed after a certain human coconut drink, colors maxed out to full saturation; blinding and eye-catching. Ignoring it was impossible.

Players rubbed their eyes, half-expecting the game to be infected with a virus.

They tried to close it, but the message couldn’t be dismissed. They had no choice but to endure the ‘light pollution’ while playing, but their eyes kept drifting toward it.

Damn it, they really wanted to see the admiral’s dark, twisted psychology!

Throughout history, absurdly sensational titles like this naturally draw attention, and the zerg players were no exception.

This shocking headline was Chu Xiu’s doing. Considering that the players on the main planet already believed Erwen had committed treason and colluded with the enemy, forcibly dumping the truth would have seemed like whitewashing, triggering backlash. So he played a strategic move: using irony to embed the evidence within the sensational headline.

Within just half an hour, half the online players had clicked the announcement, and unlike before, they didn’t just close it immediately, they read it seriously.

《 Ancient Era 》 was a true national phenomenon, a breakout game with real-time online numbers exceeding ten million. Almost every insect had friends or family playing it. And with Erwen being one of the hottest topics at the time, within just two hours, the announcement spread across the entire network, clipped and reposted in various formats, appearing on nearly every insect’s light-brain.

It was only then that the Prince noticed something was wrong.

As the highest-ranking male of the Empire, he could summon countless zergs to fawn over him with a snap of his fingers. He had always regarded games as an entertainment for the lower insects, paying them no mind and rarely monitoring them. So when he shut down the social forums, he had left the game unchecked.

By the time the Prince frantically tried to cut off the game’s login access, it was already too late.

The content of the announcement spread like a virus. Even though public discussion was forbidden, every zerg was quietly asking about it.

The evidence was laid out clearly, with timelines neatly organized. They finally realized just how full of holes the Prince’s previous investigation reports had been, and it was obvious, they had been deceived.

The protesting crowd at the port dispersed almost entirely in less than half a day, clearing the landing area and passageways.

The massive fleet of starships docked at the port. The ground nearby trembled slightly as the ship’s doors opened and the ramp descended. Erwen’s black military boots hit the steel ramp with dull thuds.

Standing at the doorway, he looked far and wide. Nearby, tall buildings rose densely; beyond them, the forests were lush and green. The planet looked exactly as he remembered it, but it had been a long time since he had seen these sights with this body, with these eyes.

Erwen’s military prestige was immense. Upon his landing, Gena offered almost no resistance; the Second Army scattered in retreat. The Admiral calmed the ordinary soldiers and issued arrest orders for both the Prince and Gena, postponing their trial.

By now, the outcome was certain.

Having arranged all matters properly, Erwen boarded a small aircraft alone. On his locator, a tiny red dot blinked continuously. He reached out, pressed on that lively dot, and couldn’t help but smile.

He was going to bring Qu Xia back.

The aircraft landed at the edge of the mining pit. The young male zerg peeked from the cave, and when he saw Erwen stepping down in his sleek military uniform, long-legged and narrow-waisted, he cheered and barreled straight toward him.

At this long-awaited reunion, Qu Xia finally wrapped his arms around that slender waist, buried his face in Erwen’s chest to breathe for a moment, then lifted his head and said:

“You’re finally back! You scared me to death!”

Though he had kept calm in front of others, Qu Xia had never faced such a rapidly changing situation, and he couldn’t help feeling uneasy. Yet there was a stabilizing presence with Erwen, and his anxious heart instantly relaxed.

Qu Xia said, “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go home. I’m starving.” He complained, “You still owe me a meal.”

There was food in the mining pit, but it could never compare to home-cooked meals, and certainly not to the ones Erwen made.

He opened his light-brain and located the Admiral’s residence. “Let’s go.”

Erwen raised a hand to smooth the young male zerg’s forehead and hair but didn’t move. His expression was unusual, as if he had realized something. After a moment, he stepped back and suddenly bowed.

It was a proper knightly bow.

Qu Xia froze. “Huh?”

Erwen shook his head slightly. “Your Highness, as the Empire’s heir, you should not go to my residence. You should be heading to the Royal Palace instead.”

With the starship’s landing, the situation became clearer. The Prince and Gena fled in panic, the Elders Council would reconvene, and without the Prince’s obstruction, and with the current heir being a fool, Qu Xia would undoubtedly become the Empire’s rightful heir.

Erwen maintained just the right social distance.

Marriage within the Royal family was no trivial matter. It required repeated discussion and approval from the Elders Council. He wasn’t necessarily suited to letting Qu Xia interact too closely with him.

Qu Xia was led to the palace somewhat bewildered and settled there. He didn’t understand all the subtleties and thought it was just part of the necessary process. After wandering through the palace and seeing all the sights, he felt a little bored.

The palace was huge and luxurious, but it lacked the warmth of life. Qu Xia still preferred the Admiral’s residence, and especially the bed he was used to sleeping in.

He wandered aimlessly through the palace, toying with the plants in the garden. Then, across a corridor, he heard soft murmurs of comfort and faint whimpers.

Two palace servants were supporting a figure in red and ornate robes, whispering: “Your Highness, you cannot go.”

“Really, you mustn’t go. This place has already changed hands.”

They stumbled and fumbled, as if trying to drag or carry that person away.

Qu Xia stepped out from behind the corridor and asked, “Your Highness?”

The handsome youth being held was someone Qu Xia had seen before: the young crown prince following behind the previous Prince.

The young prince stared at him, his deep blue eyes suddenly glistening with tears. He stood timidly and said in a small voice, “Brother.”

The palace servants hurriedly covered his mouth and whispered, “Your Highness, don’t call him ‘Brother.’ You must call him ‘Your Highness!’”

The situation had reached a critical point. The Prince and Qu Xia were now irreconcilable enemies, and the young prince, an heir left over from the old dynasty and already set to be disinherited, was in an extremely precarious position. If he angered Qu Xia, no one could predict what might happen to him.

Qu Xia walked over, took his hand, and smiled, shaking his head. “It’s alright.”

He reassured him: “You should be about my age, right? There’s no need to call me ‘brother.’”

The young prince followed him like a timid quail. His movements were childlike, but his face was handsome and refined, without a trace of foolishness.

Qu Xia suddenly had a thought and asked the servants nearby, “Is the Prince naturally simple-minded?”

The servants hesitated, then said, “It doesn’t seem so. When he was younger, he was clever. But at some point later, he became like this.”

When asked exactly when, they could give no answer.

The royal family had faced repeated upheavals in recent years. After Glore’s death, there had been a major purge, and most of the current servants were not the ones who had served before.

Qu Xia led the young prince back to the palace. At first, the prince hesitated, inching closer only gradually, seemingly checking that Qu Xia would not harm him. The closer he got, the more he pressed against Qu Xia. Until finally, he collapsed onto Qu Xia’s legs and fell asleep.

The palace servants on duty were startled, worried that if Qu Xia became displeased, he might throw the young prince out.

Qu Xia gave a reassuring glance, gently ruffling the young prince’s hair, and smoothly logged into the royal intranet.

He no longer needed to sneak in; as a formally recognized member of the Elder Council, the intranet was fully accessible to him.

Qu Xia typed the prince’s name and found his detailed records in the database. Browsing through them, he furrowed his brow.

The little prince’s period of mental disability coincided almost exactly with the time the D767 laboratory appeared.

He then pulled up the records on the prince’s father and compared the timelines, frowning even more deeply.

Fourteen years ago, the prince had poured massive funds into setting up the laboratory to study pheromones and the mental sea. Less than a year later, the once precocious little prince suddenly became mentally disabled. If this were a coincidence, it was far too coincidental.

Qu Xia looked down at the beautiful blond youth sleeping quietly on his lap. His face was calm and serene; if not for the mental impairment, he would be quite a charming young man.

Qu Xia paused, then dialed Sylph.

He quickly explained his hypothesis and mentioned some of the experimental equipment. Sylph’s lab housed the most advanced mental-sea detection devices in the entire planet. Normally used for research, they could also be employed for medical diagnostics if necessary.

Once preparations on his end were complete, he woke the young prince, put a cloak around him, and nodded to the palace servants: “I’m taking the young prince out for a while.”

The two servants froze, nearly dropping to their knees.

They had clearly misunderstood Qu Xia’s intention, thinking the newly appointed heir meant to drag the young prince away to some deserted place to vent his anger. Sweat poured from their brows as they stammered, “Y-Your Highness… he’s just a child with a disability. Why… why bother with him?”

Qu Xia rolled his eyes. “I just want to take him to have his brain checked.”

Sylph’s aircraft landed in the palace garden. Qu Xia led the young prince aboard. The young prince seemed to sense Qu Xia’s goodwill and showed no fear, quietly staying at his side like an obedient puppet doll. Only when Qu Xia laid him on the diagnostic bed and secured him with restraints did a flicker of nervousness appear on his face.

Qu Xia soothed him: “It’s just a check. Two minutes, that’s all.”

He activated the scanner to examine the mental sea. A barren, desolate scene appeared on the screen. Qu Xia frowned slightly. He had scanned many people’s mental seas, but rarely had he seen one as devastated as the little prince’s. Such damage usually only appeared after years of long-term use of suppressant drugs.

Sylph also let out a sharp intake of breath.

They carefully scanned the scene inch by inch, looking for any possibility of healing. Just as they were concentrating, a rapid chime rang out.

A voice came through the display, it was Erwen: “The prince has been caught. He’s on the starship escaping the main planet. The Elder Council is convening, and evidence must be presented. That will happen tonight.”