As the fourth minor cycle drew to a close, Sarcid completed all his preparations for the journey.
Habit was a terrifying thing. For a few fleeting moments, he seriously considered whether he should just tuck Gela into his pocket and take him along, but ultimately, he didn't.
The male was no mere kitten. He couldn't keep the other confined within a safe, protective radius forever; the Core Seed was right about one thing—life could not be lived inside a glass jar.
To this end, he placed a comms call to Clark.
"Have your satellite garrison keep an eye on the energy planet for me. If anything happens to Gela—I mean, to Roxanne and the Short-wings—at least make sure they can seek asylum at the satellite base."
"How rare."
The High-Order Seed smiled. "You’ve never liked having the Armed Species anywhere near your energy planet."
"Special times call for special measures."
Sarcid’s skin was always thick enough when facing his faux boss.
"If things actually descend into chaos, it’ll seriously impact our production. After all, you’re taking an eighty percent cut."
"Besides, if I weren't helping you deliver goods, I wouldn't have to travel so far."
"It’s 'us' now, is it?"
The silver-grey female shook his head, shifting the wings hanging behind him into a more orderly position. "Your definition of 'us' is truly... flexible."
Those eyes, which were almost indistinguishable from a human's, looked at him from across the screen. "Is Roxanne truly your mate? Sometimes you’re so overprotective I feel like you’re raising a cub."
"Don't act like you've ever raised one yourself," the Core Seed shot back with a grin.
The other man didn't respond.
Consequently, the smile gradually froze on Sarcid’s face.
He slowly turned his head away from the cargo manifest on the light screen, his eyes filled with shock.
"No way... You actually have?!"
Clark glanced at him, expressionless.
That single look could be interpreted in many ways, and it instantly caused the Core Seed to drop what he was holding.
They were supposed to be two solitary kings, yet now he discovered he was the only one truly alone. This was beyond absurd.
"Didn't you say before that you didn't have a mate?" Sarcid radiated suspicion from head to toe. He remembered asking about mates during a face-to-face chat, and the other had explicitly answered "no."
For a moment, he suspected the bug in front of him was just trying to mess with his head.
However, Clark didn't take the bait.
He simply waved a hand calmly, brushing the tangent aside. "Don't waste time on other matters. A small squad of Armed Species will accompany you on this trip."
"They won't actually enter Kamlan’s territory; they are only responsible for security along the route."
The High-Order Seed sighed softly. "As for your tribe, the members at the satellite base will keep an eye on them."
The sudden news of an escort being shoehorned into the mission successfully diverted the Core Seed's attention. He instinctively pressed for details: "Which Armed Species? Are they coming from your home sector or being drawn from the satellite garrison? How many?"
In theory, the Armed Species belonging to the core tribes were all a bunch of difficult combat junkies.
He didn't want to feel like he was under surveillance the entire way.
"Speaking of which, I believe you two already know each other."
Clark began to smile, and whenever he smiled, Sarcid knew nothing good was coming.
As if to confirm his suspicion, the High-Order Seed said airily, "You already met when the core power furnace was delivered last time."
Sarcid fell silent on the spot.
—It was that tail-swishing guy who walked like he owned the place.
Once again, he felt the High-Order bug before him was intentionally sabotaging his mental state, but he had no proof.
Otherwise, how could he have picked, out of countless grey-winged bugs, the one guy who looked like he wanted to twist Sarcid's head off at any given moment?
Last time, Sarcid had merely called Clark by his name, and the guy had been livid.
If he accidentally let slip any bad words about the Core Seed during this journey, the tail-swishing guy would likely engage him in a bout of freestyle wrestling.
After cutting the transmission, the Core Seed headed straight for the production base, seizing the final hours to hold a meeting with Ja's management.
Humans loved meetings—they’d hold them for any reason or no reason at all—but Sarcid’s meetings were something else entirely. He hated wasting time on corporate pleasantries, so he ran his meetings like military drills, pinning his subordinates down to resolve issues point by point.
Every bug giving a report felt like a student being called on by a teacher to recite from memory; it was more nerve-wracking than participating in a Sacrifice Match.
Even Selin, his right hand, felt his scales tighten whenever this happened.
Most Mid-to-Low Order species in this universe lived with a "que sera, sera" attitude—if there was food, they ate; if there was fun, they enjoyed it; if they couldn't survive, they died. After all, the Zerg reproduction rate was heaven-defying, and low-level bugs were originally positioned as consumables.
But now, this black female stood behind them like he was holding a club, telling them, "You need to start grinding, you need to learn to create profit, and anyone who dares to slack off is getting thrashed."
It was truly hard to endure.
After the meeting, Sarcid specifically asked the deep-brown female to stay behind.
Selin followed him toward the exit with trepidation, wondering if something had been wrong with his report.
"Do you remember what I told you when we first met?"
The Core Seed had his hands behind his back. The wings trailing behind him didn't really support this posture, but he tucked his hands under his wings anyway, sauntering along in that bizarre pose.
The other thought hard.
They had actually said a lot during their first meeting, where the Medium-Order female had been prostrate on the ground, begging him to save their male.
"You told us to... protect Gela?" Selin finally ventured.
"That requirement is still in effect."
The Core Seed gave a grunt of affirmation, his eyes fixed on the distant mountains. "If any unmanageable, serious situation occurs, prioritize the safety of the tribe members belonging to me."
"I said it before: protect Gela as you would your own male. Keep all calamity and suffering far from him."
He turned his head to glance at the brown female. "I’ve spoken to Clark; in an emergency, you can seek asylum at the satellite base. If the Grey-wing tribe itself falls into internal strife—my ship is docked at the starport, fully fueled and heavily armed. You are responsible for leading the tribe members to evacuate immediately. Do not get embroiled in the fighting."
"Understood."
Selin realized this topic was far more serious than anything discussed in the previous meeting. But the painful memory of his last assignment was still fresh, making him hesitate. "When there is a disagreement among management, who has the final say?"
"Listen to Gela."
Sarcid instantly caught his drift and felt like laughing.
During the match against Katla, this Medium-Order bug had failed to hold the male back, which had clearly left him traumatized.
"I'll talk to him again and tell him to choose less aggressive methods."
"I know."
When he returned to the nest and brought up the subject with the white male, the other nodded with considerable composure. When Sarcid himself wasn't involved, Gela had already begun to develop the aura of a manager.
As the number of males under his care grew, he had to handle social interactions and work with a more stable demeanor. If a leader's emotional fluctuations were too large or too frequent, it would only bring greater unease to the lower-level members.
Work made the immature bugs grow up, and it made the already mature bugs age prematurely.
Thus, the males were sprinting down the path of growth, while the females under Sarcid’s command were mentally exhausted.
They reached a consensus on the matter in just a few sentences.
But looking composed was one thing; Sarcid digging four or five blankets out of a corner of the nest was quite another.
Recently, his blankets had been vanishing one by one. The thick-skinned female had simply found new ones to use, but the new ones wouldn't last two days before disappearing as well.
He had once thought a thief had broken into the nest.
Who would have thought that while he was lying in the nest after dinner, planning his trip, his restless hands would go rummaging around the edges? He had unconsciously pulled at something tucked under the nest, only to drag out several of the small fleece blankets that had previously gone missing.
Out of respect for their own quality of life, the blankets in their nest were of the softest variety—silky to the touch, fluffy, and dust-resistant.
Sleeping on such things was incredibly comfortable.
The male, who had just finished tidying the entire little nest before bed, straightened up only to see the black Core Seed leaning back in the nest, holding several familiar fluffy blankets and examining them with a bizarre look in his eyes.
Gela instantly exploded.
He lunged forward, snatching the fabrics and desperately stuffing them behind his back.
It was such an honest reaction, a complete self-incrimination.
Sarcid was caught between amusement and speechlessness. He watched the white bug try to hide the "evidence" like a hamster, his entire body turning red, the fine white scales on his tail bristling one by one.
"Cough... Are you collecting blankets?"
Ultimately, he decided to give the other a way out. He felt that if he teased him even one bit more, the male would spontaneously combust from shame.
Gela’s mouth was currently clamped shut like a clam; there was no prying it open.
Not only was it shut, but he also looked ready to bolt with the fabrics.
The Core Seed was wickedly mischievous. He snatched the white bug who was trying to dodge away, dragging him over with ease. Just like their first meeting, he wrapped the other tightly in the pile of "mysteriously missing" blankets.
There was no escape.
Sarcid held the giant fluff-ball and gave it a gentle bounce. "Caught the blanket thief."
"Ji."
The male, caught red-handed, was now in a daze. Bundled in all that fluff, the pheromones he had grown so attached to lately came crashing down on him.
He unconsciously let out a chirping sound, a verbal tic he’d only used as a larva.
Then the scales on his tail bristled all over again.
With the Core Seed about to leave Ja, the events of this night were truly mortifying to him. Lately, he hadn't been able to control the urge to hide the other's blankets, and now he’d been caught in the act by the owner himself.
The thought of Sarcid being away from the energy planet for a while made him unable to stop himself from collecting anything that carried his pheromones, quietly tucking them under the nest. That way, when the other was far away, he could sleep in the nest holding this pile of soft, fluffy blankets, burying himself completely.
"Alright, I won't bully you anymore."
Though he still really wanted to laugh, the black female managed to suppress the urge, using as gentle a tone as possible to soothe his extremely anxious male companion before speaking of more serious matters.
"I've said it many times, but I must emphasize it once more."
"—If anything happens, you can go to Clark. If even Clark can't solve it, leave the energy planet immediately."
"You have Qiming, and you have the raider ship. I’ve refurbished that ship to the highest specs it can handle. Unless you encounter something truly extraordinary, it’s enough for an evacuation."
He gazed at the other.
"Prioritize your own safety. Ja is not the most important thing."
"Mm."
The pinned-down male gave a muffled response.
He buried his head against the other, sniffing like a puppy, and then remained in that position without moving.
The Core Seed stroked the other's small wings and said nothing more.
In the silence, they pressed their tails together.
***
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Sacre-D: Reborn as the Swarm's Apex | Chapter 43 | The Blanket Thief | Novela.app | Novela.app
