When the Crimson Lingzhi set sail, it was not only gorged on stellar core energy but also carried a message from the Sub-King of the Grey-wing tribe.
The involved parties, both human and insect, were gathered at the outermost extension platform of the docking orbit. This was the point furthest from the nest planet that still maintained a gravity field.
The new King of the Grey-wing tribe had issued an inquiry to the humans regarding their willingness to establish a deeper level of cooperation. As a gesture of sincerity, he was prepared to let the record state that this major invasion incident had originated from an invitation by the Grey-wing tribe, thereby preventing further conflict between the two races.
Clark was an exceptionally shrewd leader.
One could catch glimpses of this from the very beginning, when he had secretly hoarded an entire energy star, quietly amassing a fortune. Sovereignty could not be surrendered, but business was always negotiable. When two "money-grubbers" huddled together, each more avaricious than the last, it wasn't just the Core-species utilizing the strength of the Grey-wing tribe; the silver-grey female was also keeping one eye open for opportunities to exploit the other’s human connections.
Sacdi couldn't help but suspect that the only losing deal the high-tier species had ever made in his life was Arthur—and he was still hemorrhaging losses. It was hard to say if Clark wouldn't end up losing himself in the bargain as well.
This resulted in the crimson starship taking everything it could carry, saving the human side a massive chunk of their fuel budget. Tearing open a port in the river of time could be justified as an emergency, but doing so on the return journey would be an act of war. Thus, the Crimson Lingzhi followed protocol and set a standard course.
"Thank you for your assistance. I will convey the relevant messages," the artificial intelligence said. "And regarding your previous proposal—the request for me to escort the recovered humans back to Camlann—do you still require me to handle their transport?"
Excellent.
The landmine had been stepped on.
Sacdi watched as his nominal boss’s expression went through a spectacular kaleidoscope of colors in an instant. The young human standing behind Clark smiled and reached out to take the elder female’s arm.
Predictably, he grabbed nothing but air.
Clark’s movement as he pulled his hand back was so fast that even Sacdi barely saw it.
"Do you not want me anymore?"
The blue-eyed human sighed softly, a hint of sorrow coloring his voice. He leaned close to the other’s side with the same caution he had used as a child seeking forgiveness, yet he restrained himself, maintaining a sliver of distance. His outstretched hand no longer dared to try and grasp his guardian, instead hovering a step away—hesitant, longing, as if terrified of drawing near.
Sacdi, witnessing this display of "tea art," felt like his eyes were going to rot.
What a seamless performance of manipulative pity. If he had possessed even a fraction of that skill back in the day, he wouldn't have ended up slamming doors and flipping tables during arguments with those old fogeys every day.
But the "blind" high-tier species, whose heart was clouded by his love for his "cub," fell for it hook, line, and sinker. The Sub-King, who was still agonizing over what he had done wrong to raise the child so crookedly, searched for a thousand reasons within himself and stubbornly failed to find the true root of the problem in Arthur.
The silver-grey female opened his mouth several times as if to speak, only to force the words back down. Finally, he gave a polite, standard response with a wooden face.
"I was previously remiss in my considerations. Please allow me to withdraw that immature request."
"Understood," the Crimson Lingzhi responded steadily, pretending not to notice the suspicious pause in the conversation. Then, its Eye of Horus turned toward the black Core-species who had been standing to the side with arms crossed.
"May victory be your companion, and may you and your mate find nothing but smooth paths ahead," the crimson starship said gently.
Before every past sortie, it used to say, *“May victory be our companion.”* It was one of the few idealistic moments for a materialistic intelligence.
Sacdi’s fingers tightened slightly. Then he smiled and gave a lazy wave. "Get going. We have work to do once you're gone."
In front of the other insects, they couldn't reminisce or exchange sentimental farewells; they could only speak as if conducting official business. Gela, standing beside him, entwined their tails in a silent gesture of comfort.
The crimson behemoth was like a giant whale swimming into a sea of stars, merging with the distant constellations in the span of a breath.
This was the second time Sacdi had watched himself—or rather, the partner of his former self—turn and depart. The first time had been because of radiation sickness. During the synchronization process, his symptoms had suddenly worsened, and he had been rushed away by subordinates for intensive treatment. "He" had lain in the transport, watching the starship recede through the window, never imagining that it would be a final goodbye.
He would never again board that starship while maintaining a high-rate mental link with the Crimson Lingzhi. The pain of having a half-self that had been integrated into his very marrow ripped away was something he had understood and accepted long ago.
Even he had to admit his own impotence at times.
"It's okay."
The white insect squeezed Sacdi’s hand tightly. This was the phrase Gela had said most frequently lately. Being mentally sensitive was one thing, but being clumsy at offering comfort was another. Having spent his entire childhood and nearly all his sub-adulthood without experiencing such scenes, only finding tenderness after following the Core-species, the male could only emphasize "it will be okay" over and over.
"We will meet again... very, very soon."
Sacdi leaned down to kiss him. He was merely in low spirits, not indecisive. No matter how their relationship changed, it wouldn't affect the path he had to take next. The Crimson Lingzhi understood this, and so did Gela.
But his mate would always put his feelings first.
"Don't worry."
Smiling as he hugged the male, the Core-species found it difficult to control his daily urge to nuzzle his fragrant partner. How could anyone resist? He felt a sudden wave of disdain for his past self, who had once advocated the policy that "the wise do not fall in love."
He couldn't resist even a little bit.
By contrast, almost immediately after seeing off the crimson starship, the Sub-King of the Grey-wing tribe turned and headed for the front lines, not touching the ground for three consecutive days. Giving the human’s ill-advised feelings the cold shoulder was one reason; the other was that he was truly busy.
The silver-grey female and Sacdi began a joint sweep of the Foot-leg and Broad-wing tribes. They saw off guests in the morning and raided their neighbors by night, handling both tasks with equal vigor.
The ceaseless strife was so similar to the Core-species’ former life. In war, violence is always the primary means; one side forces the other to submit, with no room for compromise. Since the hostile neighbors had dared to swarm in and take a massive bite while the Grey-wing tribe was in a state of upheaval, Clark would tear the enemy apart with a thousandfold retribution.
Sacdi wanted to clear the obstacles ahead and bring the entire Zerg race under his control; the Grey-wing Sub-King wanted an eye for an eye, to seize broader habitable star systems and secure an unshakeable status for his tribe. The two war maniacs were a perfect match.
This approach was dangerous. The ten direct lineages had been stable for over a dozen Great Cycles, each with their own habitats and spheres of influence. Now, they were about to uproot two of them entirely.
The Broad-wing and Foot-leg tribes were not to be feared; the hidden danger lay in the other core-gene tribes. Once they felt threatened, they might join forces to strike back. If the enemies couldn't be pinned down completely and rapidly, the Zerg star systems would inevitably descend into another round of chaotic schism.
"Leave the surrendering insects to me," Sacdi negotiated with his nominal boss. "Leave them for my use."
"Your 'saint's disease' is acting up again," the other replied with a smile, having long since returned to his pristine, immaculate state. "No tribe accepts outsiders. We should divide them by function and habit, and crushing all potential threats is the only logical course."
"The Hard-wing tribe thought the same way once."
Sacdi’s golden-brown eyes locked onto the other. The Core-species was prepared for a violent outburst. "I understand that war is heartless, and I'm not foolish enough to back down on that front—when two opponents meet on a narrow path, only one leaves alive. But they still have males and larvae, Clark."
"I want the heads of the Broad-wing and Foot-leg Sub-Kings, not a pile of male and larval heads."
"If you don't put a muzzle on the mad dogs under your command, do you want to step into your neighbor's territory only to see your direct subordinates feasting on larvae atop piles of corpses?"
For a moment, the high-tier species looked as if he were about to fly into a rage. His lead-grey eyes stared unblinkingly at the audacious outsider before him.
"Too much death is simply a waste of resources," Sacdi said, unmoved. He wasn't dealing with someone like Kleiman, whose concepts were still unformed. His nominal boss was always goal-oriented and steady as a rock. Only by stepping on the other's sore spot could he restrain this Grey-wing leader who followed Zerg instincts.
"Waste is meaningless. I can integrate all the insects, merging the defeated tribes to stabilize the Grey-wing tribe's sphere of influence in another way, expanding the number of insects under our command."
He continued, "Can you really look Arthur in the eye and tell him you slaughtered every single one of those males and larvae, and then embrace the human you raised without a shred of guilt?"
Arthur was a useful brick, to be moved wherever he was needed. The fact that the boy could drive the usually calm and self-contained Sub-King to drift in space rather than go home was already a clear signal of concession.
"You're even worried about him seeing your bloodstained side."
Just as the high-tier species had seen through him perfectly at their first meeting, it is difficult for any individual to see themselves clearly, yet they can easily receive a verdict from the mouths of others. Clark’s only weakness was exposing Arthur to him for the sake of entrusting the boy's future.
And because of that, Sacdi had moved his boss from the grey list to the white list.
"...You are still as reckless as you were when we first met. This recklessness stems from your excessive confidence in your own strength."
The silver-grey female stood up. Sacdi almost thought the other was going to strike, but those lead-grey eyes merely cast a calm glance his way.
"Leading my tribesmen into battle, being generous with my power, and hiding far too many of your own secrets—you look more like a qualified trader than I do."
There was no need to be so polite about his "empty-handed" maneuvering. Sacdi smiled. When it didn't involve his human "beloved son," the other's head was still clear.
"Am I not useful?" he asked. "You have to admit, I'm the one without a substitute, no matter the circumstances."
Everyone was fleecing each other; no one was innocent. The sense of boundaries between adult insects was truly comfortable. Clark didn't interrogate him about his relationship with the Crimson Lingzhi. After determining he was harmless, useful, and efficient, Clark immediately began pondering how to utilize him properly.
"Don't act as if you didn't benefit from the Crimson Lingzhi, or as if you didn't use the opportunity to network with the humans."
"Let me try," Sacdi said lazily, his tail swaying behind him. "You can't exactly go around pinning down the other nine core-gene tribes one by one and then be a lonely administrator all by yourself."
When it came to pushing his luck, the Core-species was shamelessly thick-skinned. "Krisha was satisfied just getting administrative rights over the Grey-wings. You have to be better than him, at the very least."
Clark looked at him for a while, not exposing the true face of the man before him who appeared coarse but was actually full of schemes.
Finally, he let out a soft laugh.
"You ambitionist."
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