SZAR Chapter 104

When Qu Xia went to inspect the mine, the Ninth Expedition had already begun.

A vast fleet departed from the homeworld, crossing distant star systems to land at the Pamir spatial wormhole. From there, they used Pamir as a base to steadily push outward.

Qu Xia was in a run-down guesthouse on Pamir, hearing the roar of starships.

He looked up through the window at the gray, hazy sky. The ships were arranged like chess pieces, orderly across the celestial dome.

On his light-brain, he saw news about the expedition: the Zerg would use Pamir as a base to compete with the distant Tianjia for energy in the mid-system, while Erwen, as commander of the Sixth Armies, would personally lead the front.

Though Erwen wore his uniform at home, his expression was always calm. On the news, however, Erwen’s face was cold, severe, exuding unshakable authority. Watching this version of him, Qu Xia felt completely unfamiliar.

Qu Xia muttered, almost to himself: “If Erwen knew I was the junk planet’s strategist, would he look at me with such a terrifying expression too?”

Just imagining this possibility made his chest tighten painfully. He shook his head to dispel the strange feeling and focused intently on the mine before him.

Based on the clues he’d obtained from the Prince’s private domain, the D767 lab was hidden within a mine on Pamir. But the star system was rich in gems and had many abandoned mines. Qu Xia hacked into Pamir’s database, cross-checked all officially registered mines from recent years, and spent nearly half a month inspecting them one by one before finally locating the correct mine.

It was an extremely deep old mine, untouched for years, with the D767 lab concealed within.

Qu Xia had arrived too late, the place was deserted, but some instruments remained. Much of the electronic data had been deleted. After a long effort, he could only recover fragments. Eventually, he simply flew his shuttle in, moving all the lab equipment over, along with beds and other supplies, finally setting down roots in this abandoned lab.

During this time, the Zerg army steadily advanced, and the StarNet buzzed with celebration everywhere. Qu Xia’s analysis progressed day by day. The leftover information in the private domain was shocking. Before ascending the throne, the Empire’s Emperors had done many similar things, fratricide to claim the throne aside, they also ruthlessly eliminated rivals. Several former Imperial Admirals had died on the battlefield this way.

Qu Xia copied this information for record-keeping, tidied his bed, and went to sleep.

The moment he closed his eyes, Qu Xia shot them open again.

Using drugs to eliminate rivals? Sending an Admiral to die on the battlefield?

To the Prince, Erwen was the rival! And he was right there, on the battlefield!

Qu Xia threw off the covers. Sleep was impossible.

He tossed and turned in the lab, struggling, until he finally gritted his teeth and picked up his light-brain to draft a message:

【 Admiral, this is Lock. I am in the Pamir Star system, about 300 kilometers southeast of your stationed troops. I have information I need to share with you. Could you come meet me? 】

In this situation, he could no longer worry about being caught. Erwen was too precious. Qu Xia had never seen a Zerg so calm, responsible, and courteous. Beneath that cold exterior lay a soft heart, and Qu Xia could not bear to see him in danger.

He had to get the information to Erwen.

But he did not choose to send it through the light-brain. The first light-brain used a public communication channel, which was unsafe. His old account had already been deleted. This was a small, unofficial account. He couldn’t be sure Erwen would receive it, nor could he directly deliver evidence. After a moment’s thought, he chose to request a face-to-face meeting.

Qu Xia clicked send, pressed his back against the lab’s cold metal wall, and closed his eyes.

Help! Feels like I’m about to end up picking trash again QAQ.

Can such important information make up for past mistakes? QAQ.

………………

A hundred kilometers away, at the Pamir Star system camp.

Erwen had finished briefing Nuo Wei on the operation. He removed his gloves, closed his pen, and rested a hand on his forehead.

The handsome admiral had faint dark circles under his eyes, showing he hadn’t rested properly for a long time. In fact, his heavy military duties consumed most of his time, and in the little rest he could take, he could not stop thinking about Lock.

He still remembered the first time he met the little female Zerg at Sylph’s banquet. Lock had seemed a bit reserved but very polite. Sylph had liked him at first sight, which was what convinced him to accept Erwen’s sponsorship.

There was no doubt. Lock was a good child. Bright, gentle, always smiling, and though as a female Zerg he was overly delicate, causing Erwen to worry about his life after marriage, as a junior, he was flawless.

By contrast, Erwen, as an elder, had his shortcomings.

He thought to himself that maybe he really wasn’t a good elder.

He had only raised two children in total. Nuo Wei had grown up wooden and rigid, suffering early struggles after marriage, and only recently had the other male Zerg’s strange change in temperament improved things somewhat. But Lock, pure-hearted by nature, had suffered from Erwen’s unchecked impulses and neglect, which had driven the child to abandon everything on the main planet and flee far away.

Erwen leaned against the windowsill, gazing at the endless night, eyes half-closed.

He felt guilty.

At that moment, the light-brain suddenly beeped.

The night was deep. Unless it was an urgent military matter, no one would disturb an Admiral at this hour. Erwen lowered his gaze and swiped the screen. His pupils suddenly constricted.

Lock?

His fingers tightened unconsciously, then he remembered that Lock originally came from the Pamir Star system. If he had fled the main planet and chosen another place to live, returning to his home star system was very likely.

Erwen took a deep breath and asked, 【Where are you?】

Qu Xia quickly sent the coordinates.

Erwen was in the central army camp. If Qu Xia approached, he would be shredded by fire; he couldn’t go in and had to have Erwen come out to meet him.

Erwen clicked the coordinates. 【 Wait a moment. I’ll be there right away. 】

He didn’t dare waste a second. Straightening his uniform and putting on his coat, he hurried out.

His adjutant, Matthew, froze. “Admiral, at this hour… you’re going out?”

Erwen nodded coldly. “Yes.”

Cold sweat broke out on Matthew’s forehead. “Admiral, military matters are urgent. As the commanding officer, leaving now could delay the campaign!”

Erwen glanced at him without a trace of emotion and said, “I’ll go quickly and return quickly.”

With that, he strode out in long, decisive steps.

He activated his aircraft and shot into the sky, placing the light-brain directly in front of the cockpit. The blinking light on the screen marked Qu Xia’s position.

Erwen glanced at it from time to time and exhaled in relief.

Lock was still there, unmoving.

The mine was several hundred kilometers from the military command center. The aircraft would take over half an hour to reach it. Seeing the light remain obediently in place, Erwen’s taut nerves finally relaxed.

But as the aircraft flew over the primeval forest, the abnormality struck suddenly.

Erwen felt a sharp pain in his chest, immediately followed by a crushing wave of dizziness. Breathing became difficult, as if someone were choking his throat. Worse, his mental sea roiled violently, instantly stirring a storm of immense turbulence.

The overwhelming pain pressed down on him, every breath a heavy burden. He pressed his hands to his forehead and gasped twice in panic.

This was… a mental-sea collapse?

Erwen cursed under his breath. His mental-sea had always been fragile, a chronic, hidden illness, but he had never experienced such a violent surge. It was as if decades of restraint had exploded in a single night.

He gripped his forehead tightly, veins bulging in his arms. The aircraft went out of control, plunging straight down. At this point, he was less than three thousand meters above the ground. Without urgent intervention, it would crash.

Pain blurred his vision. Waves of vertigo assaulted him. Relying on his familiarity with the aircraft, he fumbled for the emergency landing button and slammed it down. The aircraft braked hard, the rotors opening to slow its descent. Its massive momentum still carried it forward. The cockpit scraped the tops of trees in a rapid spin before plunging straight down through gaps in the branches.

The thick, crisscrossing ancient boughs slowed it slightly but could not hold its weight. They merely softened the impact a bit before the craft slammed onto the ground, rolling briefly before coming to a halt.

The airbags deployed, shielding Erwen’s vital points, but the front half of the craft twisted and jammed against his leg bone.

He let out a low groan. The pain in his leg was intense, but the state of his mental-sea was far more urgent. Without help within a few hours, he would completely lose his mind, vanishing into the infinite darkness of the mental-sea.

At this point, the situation had become so severe that ordinary inhibitors were useless. Only aid from a male, more specifically, a high-ranking male could save him. But Pamir was remote; where could a high-ranking male even be found? Calling reinforcements from the main star would already be too late. Besides, which male would willingly extend help to a female on the verge of losing control?

For a moment, Erwen thought about ending his own life.

A high-ranking female who loses his mind becomes a bloodthirsty killing machine. He would slaughter everything around him until life itself was exhausted, and then die. Erwen was landing in the heart of the primeval forest, where no living thing surrounded him. But if he lost control and ran into someone gathering herbs, or if he spread his wings and flew toward a nearby village… he would become a thorough killing machine, and the bloodshed around him could flood the land.

Protecting every citizen under the zerg’s territory had been Erwen’s lifelong belief. If this was the only possible outcome, then he would rather…

Before he could finish the thought, the light-brain beeped again. Qu Xia was calling. He sounded slightly confused: “Erwen, I see your light-dot isn’t moving. Haven’t you arrived yet?”

In the grip of unbearable pain, Erwen couldn’t speak a single word; only ragged gasps echoed inside the cockpit.

Qu Xia frowned. “Erwen?”

The communicator carried fragmented, breathless sounds. The voice seemed to struggle under the weight of suffering. Qu Xia’s worry deepened: “Are you hurt?”

No one answered.

Qu Xia quickly slipped on his shoes and ran out of the mine. He jumped onto the aircraft, constantly tracking Erwen’s position. He set the navigation directly for the aircraft, and only when the engines ignited and it roared toward its destination did he manage to offer a few words of comfort: “Don’t worry. I’ll be there soon.”

Erwen closed his eyes in pain.

He struggled to move his lips, forcing a few words out from his pale, bloodless mouth: “…Don’t come.”

“…Lock…don’t come!”

He was barely able to restrain his psyche.

The deep currents of his mind surged violently, washing away what little reason remained. By the time Qu Xia arrived, it would likely be the moment Erwen completely broke.

He was an S-rank insect; a frail researcher like Qu Xia would be utterly powerless in his presence. In just a few seconds, the Admiral’s steel-like wings could slice through a female’s throat.

Despair flooded Erwen’s eyes. Was he really going to drag Qu Xia down with him before dying?

He forced himself, fragmenting his words through gritted teeth: “No…no…not Lock.”

“I… I beg you… don’t come…”

His vocal cords twisted under the extreme pain, distorting his words into mumbles, barely audible. He didn’t know if Qu Xia could hear him, but he repeated it over and over, tirelessly.

“No…don’t come…”

Then, suddenly, the world outside lit up. The searchlight swept across the clearing. From the communicator came Qu Xia’s joyful voice: “I found you!”

Erwen gasped twice, urgently.

His entire body displayed the jagged, menacing insect markings, the first signs of losing control. Outside, the whirring of rotors grew louder. Qu Xia’s aircraft slowly descended, stopping less than a hundred meters from him.

The window opened, and Qu Xia jumped down, holding a lantern.

Through the haze, Erwen saw Lock’s delicate, scholarly face.

The moment Lock saw him, joy lit his features, like an old friend reunited. This innocent young female didn’t yet realize what he was facing. He had no idea that the insect inside the aircraft was no longer the Erwen he knew, but a creature on the brink of total collapse. The slightest trigger could push him over the edge.

“…Go!” Erwen gritted his teeth. “Go!”

Perhaps it was the glass between them, perhaps the lip movements were too subtle to read, or perhaps the shock of reunion kept Qu Xia from noticing Erwen’s abnormal state. He didn’t pause at all, walking straight toward him.

Erwen shut his eyes tightly.

He trembled, wanting to reach for the aircraft’s spark switch. With the aircraft already damaged, fuel was surely leaking; if he triggered a spark, the craft would almost certainly ignite, likely burning him to death before anything else. But they were too close, and Erwen couldn’t be sure if the sudden blaze would harm the young female.

In that brief hesitation, Qu Xia had already reached him.

Erwen could no longer speak.

Only despair filled his mind, yet, astonishingly, his mental sea was somehow soothed, easing slightly.

Through his amazed eyes, Qu Xia opened the cabin door.

He held a lantern, wearing a thick windproof cloak, and then knelt beside Erwen, placing the lantern to the side and cupping Erwen’s face in his hands.

“It’s fine now,” Qu Xia said. “It’s fine.”