Chapter 65: The Incident Arises Part 1

[Abyss Frontline]

Alarms tore through the night sky, blood-red signal lights flashing ceaselessly amid the ruins. Hideously deformed Xenoids broke through the trenches, trampling over the frontlines as they charged toward the outpost’s edge, carrying a nauseating corrosive stench.

“Open fire!” With the commander roaring from atop the high platform, a torrent of hot weapons poured out like an avalanche. Bullets rained down, high-frequency railguns roared as they burned through the darkness, and swathes of Xenoids turned to charred ash in the firelight.

“What’s up with these Xenoids?” a soldier shouted over the deafening gunfire, steam rising from the rocket launcher on his shoulder while cold sweat poured down his forehead. “They’re acting like total maniacs!”

Xenoid activity at the Abyss Frontline had always been frequent, but never like this—suicidally desperate to breach human defenses, with no basic cover or dispersal tactics. They just charged straight ahead, hell-bent on breaking through.

“I’ve never seen them swarm like this. It’s less a charge and more like—”

Something even more terrifying behind them was hunting them…

The commander’s eyes widened as realization dawned.

“Cease fire! Cease fire—it’s a Xenoid Variant—”

But it was too late.

“Bang—!”

An energy round grazed the Xenoid Variant’s energy field. The next second, a ghastly white beam erupted from the middle of the frontline, a flaming mushroom cloud piercing the night. The violent shockwave left people bleeding from every orifice, ears ringing.

“Dr-draw… sword…” A soldier shakily stood, fumbling awkwardly for the sword at his side. Before he could recover, a heart-wrenching scream came from behind: “Watch out—”

The Federation soldier looked up, pupils contracting sharply.

The Xenoid Variant’s blade-arm materialized in the air. In the instant it was about to cleave him in two, a Delphi soldier with a long spear thrust forward, blocking it for him.

–

“Clang—” Weapons clashed with a crisp ring.

Ryan’s full-force strike was effortlessly parried by Isiris. The man’s wrist twisted, delivering a casual flick that sent Ryan’s sword flying from his grip, clattering to the ground.

Without moving a step, a breeze tousled Isiris’s golden long hair. His golden eyes cast down like he was overlooking an ant. “Again.”

Ryan panted heavily, his pale cheeks flushed with shame and anger. He picked up his sword and charged once more.

“Tsk tsk, that’s rough—” Zane leaned against a pillar, arms crossed, watching the scene in the courtyard.

Lian winced and rubbed himself, still vividly recalling the physical and mental exhaustion of getting thrashed by Isiris years ago. “That little punk Ryan too, if he wants to learn swordsmanship, come to me. What masochistic urge made him pick big bro?”

Reniya stood to the side, a trace of worry evident on her refined, beautiful face.

Paimon stood beside her, his moon-white hair falling to his shoulders, features like a painting, though his tone carried a hint of helplessness. “He’s pushing too hard.”

Just then, Zane strolled over. The weather was hot, and his deep V-shirt was quite revealing—perfectly matching his personality.

He slung an arm around his little sister’s shoulders, giving a light pat, then turned his gaze to Paimon, a mild yet roguish smile curling his lips. “This beauty must be Ryan’s master, right?”

Paimon curved his lips too, giving him a glance—those eyes were genuinely stunning. Ignoring the slight flirtiness, he replied, “And you must be the infamous interstellar playboy, Highness Zane?”

Zane’s elegant drawl hooked softly: “Thanks for the compliment, beauty.” He came off as quite the libertine, but the playfulness stayed surface-level, never reaching his eyes. “During your years as master in Delphi, what’s your impression of it? Ever thought about joining Delphi?”

Yes, Delphi accepted outsiders for citizenship. But the conditions were brutally harsh—requiring the kingdom’s will to acknowledge you.

“I admire Delphi greatly, but I love my homeland.” Paimon’s words trailed off as something caught his eye, silencing him.

Zane arched a brow and followed his gaze. Upon seeing it, genuine warmth bloomed in his deep blue eyes.

Little furball Li Ao had shown up at some point, clutching a tiny unsharpened dagger in his paws, flailing around with a similarly shaped little monster.

“Xun. Rock-paper-scissors, fair and square. Winner strikes first.”

Fierce Cat was all about fairness. The white paw flashed a paper; the black, tentacled clump balled into a fist.

“Then I go first.” Fierce Cat took a deep breath and charged at the little coal ball with his tiny dagger.

Xun was just playing along with the kitty, swinging his dagger with a “Yah!” as he met the charge.

The two short-armed little things brawling was so comical that even the adults paused, bursting into laughter.

“Who made that for him?”

Brenna arrived with her robot, beaming as she curtsied to the Highnesses. “A gift from the artisans. Tiny versions of swords, spears, blades, axes, halberds, hooks, forks—you name it, they’ve got ’em all in mini.”

Zane tsked. “That pattern—Old Lady Mo’s work?” The empire’s most renowned forge master, famed for crafting personal weapons from refined alloys—Lady Mo.

“It is.” Lian looked indignant. “That old lady, I begged her back then to sharpen my blade and she told me to scram. Hey, double standards much for these cats??”

She even made this many toys??

Zane shot a glance at his idiot brother—as if you could compare to the kitty—but before he could speak, Isiris said: “Leo, come here.”

The golden-haired emperor ignored Ryan, who could no longer stand, and stated: “That’s enough for today. Train on your own.”

“Yes.” The boy looked disheveled but spirited, picking up his sword to prop himself up as he eyed the little cat.

Li Ao heard the call, dropped the dagger, and pattered over on his paws, tail upright, eyes all sparkly and moist. “Xixi! You called me?”

Isiris lightly tapped the little guy’s white belly with his foot. “Want to practice swordplay?”

Li Ao instinctively hugged the man’s ankle, nodding dazedly. He wasn’t dumb; after days in Delphi, steeped in the culture, he’d developed a itch to swing blades and spears.

“Is it interest, or pressure?” Isiris wanted to confirm the source of the kitty’s whim.

Pressure? Li Ao didn’t even know what that was. It just seemed… “Fun…”

The three siblings, schooled in Isiris’s wolfish ways, were dumbfounded. If they dared speak to Isiris like that—man, woman, old, young—they’d be beaten to a pulp in the next second.

And their handsome, godlike, cold, ruthless brother? What was his reaction? What did he say?

“Alright, shift to human form. I’ll play with you.”

???

How was this fair? Reniya couldn’t believe it. Look at your nephew who can’t even get up!

Li Ao had no idea his uncle and aunt’s hearts were shattering. He shifted to human form, the collar around his neck auto-transforming into a blue-and-white sailor outfit.

Isiris selected two appropriately sized wooden swords from the rack—one in hand, one tossed to the little monster—tone flat: “Human form.”

The wooden sword, far larger than his body, smashed down. In that brief gap before it landed, a child’s hand gripped it.

Xun shifted to human form, dressed like the kitty, and neatly flourished a sword flower.

Li Ao gaped, his naturally curly black hair fluffing up, baffled at how his little dog managed that.

The Great Old One—even without inheriting the Abyss—possessed instincts strong enough to mimic any move he’d just seen.

Isiris placed his sword horizontally before Li Ao, low voice: “Grip it.”

Li Ao had never done this before. He blankly followed the man’s words to hold the weapon. The next second, a warm, powerful large hand covered his.

Isiris bent slightly at the waist, golden hair brushing Li Ao’s cheek. His voice was low and deliberate, matching the child’s height and rhythm, patiently guiding.

“Feel it carefully,” he said. “Move your feet with my strike’s direction. Don’t rush ahead or fall back.”

Li Ao nodded, inexplicably tense.

Xun stood opposite, the child’s delicate face reflecting scarlet eyes—bewitching like a blooming little poppy.

“Focus.” With the word, Isiris gripped Li Ao’s hand, guiding a thrust.

Xun raised his wrist, cleanly blocking.

One big, one small, different species entirely—yet in teaching the kitty, they shared uncanny tacit understanding.

Back and forth, Xun only defended, matching Isiris’s moves.

Li Ao stumbled clumsily after Isiris’s steps.

“How’s this even a fight…?” Lian scratched his head from the sidelines, muttering. “Pfft, this is just pure playtime with the kitty.”

But Isiris said nothing. Every strike was agonizingly slow, power reined in to near-gentleness. To outsiders, this “lesson” was just the Monarch indulging a child.

As maids snapped photos of the heartwarming moment, a guard perked up, staring intently and whispering: “Unbelievable—Little Highness is keeping up!”

Someone blinked. “What?”

The next instant, Isiris’s languid steps pivoted sharply, sword speed quickening half a beat. In seamless sync, Li Ao steadily followed with a step.

Isiris’s golden eyes narrowed slightly, voice encouraging: “Good. Follow once more.”

Sword winds surged abruptly, and Xun’s gaze sharpened as he swiftly parried with his sword in retaliation. His movements were lightning-fast and fluid, the wooden blade flashing with sword light, utterly devoid of the clumsiness he’d shown earlier while playing with the little kitten.

The blades clashed, exchanging no fewer than a hundred bouts.

Li Ao, guided by Isiris, grew smoother in his motions, his eyes brighter and brighter. He didn’t realize that the other had already let go of his hand, still under the impression that Daddy was holding it for him.

One was a child not yet six, the other an imitation monster growing in his likeness. In their back-and-forth, one could already glimpse the sharp edges of their future prowess.

Ryan stared in a daze, a sudden sense of urgency welling up in his heart.

Paimon had appeared by his side at some point, patting his shoulder comfortingly. “Take it slow. Practice makes perfect.”

The youth gripped his sword hilt tighter, battle intent igniting bit by bit in his eyes.

Paimon glanced at the black-haired, red-eyed child on the field, seeming to find it amusing. “The universe is truly wondrous.”

The remark drew a sidelong glance from Isiris. The golden-haired Monarch shot him a look, and Paimon responded with a hooked smile.

Zane inserted himself between their lines of sight, slinging an arm around Isiris’s shoulders and pressing his face to his neck, speaking without a shred of seriousness. “Oh, my brother, as expected of our little kitten cub. Such great comprehension.”