Chapter Ninety: Ah Tai’s True Love

Chapter Ninety: Atai's True Love

“Your Majesty, should we...?”
“Do I need you to teach me how to do things?” Hua Ye replied coolly.
“Forgive me, Your Majesty.” That feather-light remark from Hua Ye frightened the lowly Sky Scum out of his wits—the weight of such a title was more than he could bear.

“How about this: go and let Devourer in.”
“Yes!” Overjoyed at Hua Ye’s answer, the Sky Scum hurried off to fetch Devourer.

Devourer had been waiting outside the photonic barrier for nearly ten minutes. It was impossible for him not to feel some anger, but his mechanical mind calculated the pros and cons above all else; unless his mind was completely overtaken by emotion, there would be little fluctuation. Just as he felt about to explode, someone—no, a birdman—emerged from the barrier.

To Devourer, this was nothing more than a birdman, and not even a formidable one like the angels.

“Welcome, King of Gluttony,” the Sky Scum said, thumping his chest in salute.

Devourer ignored him completely. Once inside, he didn’t bother to land, simply flying straight to the bridge—king to king.

“King of Gluttony, I’ve long heard of you,” Hua Ye said first after sizing each other up.

“The pilot of the Heavenly Palace’s ship could use some training,” Devourer retorted, not bothering with pleasantries.

“Oh? Sorry to have startled you, King of Gluttony. Guards, lock him up for a day,” Hua Ye said indifferently.

The pilot played along with a wail, “Mercy, Your Majesty…”

“Hmph.” Devourer snorted at such a feeble punishment. This was hardly punishment—more like a holiday.

“King of Gluttony doesn’t seem satisfied. How about this: let that sweet thing from today punish him for a day,” Hua Ye added, catching the snort. He delighted in seeing kings, great and small, squirm.

“My god instructed us to place some of our Gluttonous under your command. What are your battle plans, King of Heavenly Palace?” Devourer knew this was all he could expect; Hua Ye would never truly punish anyone. He got straight to business.

“We’re going to storm the angels’ city, take back my Heavenly Palace, and restore order!” Hua Ye stood up, arms raised in a grand, almost theatrical gesture.

The surrounding Sky Scum soldiers joined in, chanting, “Heavenly Palace! Heavenly Palace! Heavenly Palace!” Each shout louder than the last, until the entire ship reverberated with their voices.

Devourer tried to put on a grave face. By his rough count, there were nearly a hundred male birdmen on this miserable ship. That meant about a hundred second-generation super soldiers. Was this old king of the Heavenly Palace really such a force, even in decline?

What Devourer didn’t know was that all the resources for these second-generation super soldiers had been supplied by Karl.

“King of Heavenly Palace, the third, fourth, and sixth flagships, along with their subordinates, are at your disposal,” Devourer said after some thought, deciding to send three flagships to the City of Angels. If a massacre could be wrought there, perhaps the god’s research would advance.

Earth, outside Tianhe City.

Hua Ye arrived with two guards, seeking his beloved general. Attempts to reach him via covert communication had failed; following a hidden signal brought him only to an empty highway, leaving him momentarily stunned.

Where was his trusted general? Was he invisible?

But in those few stunned seconds, Hua Ye realized the truth: his trusted general hadn’t turned invisible. The hidden data signaled this was the place where he’d been killed. Hua Ye’s face darkened. With a wave of his hand, an octagonal control panel appeared before him. His fingers danced over it, and before him, a ball of red light began to gather.

Two minutes later, the light condensed into a transparent crystal sphere, inside which lay a strange, androgynous man in deep slumber. If Yun Yang were here, he’d recognize at once that this was the very effeminate Sumali whom he had tricked to death. He’d marvel, “You can revive someone after killing them? This is too broken. Coach, I want to learn this!”

Devil One, Command Room.

“Ato, doesn’t the queen look especially dazzling in her armor?” Blackwind teased, glancing at Ato, who stared unblinking.

“Mmm, no matter when or where, the queen is always my incomparable queen,” Ato replied without a flicker.

“Rose doesn’t fancy the queen. Ato, this is your chance,” Blackwind continued, sensing that Ato’s reaction wasn’t quite what he’d hoped.

Ato’s eyes briefly shimmered with longing, then solidified with resolve. He lowered his voice.
“Blackwind, I’ve said it—if the queen were to love me, she would no longer be my queen.”

“Don’t you want to try? We could help you plan,” Atai chimed in from the side.

“Really?” Ato felt his face flush at the thought.

“Of course, Ato. I read in Earth’s books that girls love fireworks. We could…” Blackwind was already scheming.

“But this is Devil One, not Earth. Where would we get fireworks?” Ato admitted he was tempted, but worried.

“Silly, don’t we have Judgment Bombardments?” Atai said carelessly.

Ato felt thunderstruck—since when had the Devils become so rich we could use Judgment Bombardments as fireworks? Wouldn’t the queen cough up blood from rage if she found out? Was this really helping or sabotaging him?

“With our resources, do you two think the queen wouldn’t cough blood seeing us use a Judgment Bombardment as fireworks?” Ato voiced his concern.

“Then what should we do? Maybe capture an angel and have her dance for us? That would cheer the queen up, right?” Atai suggested.

Ato covered his face. “Haven’t we captured enough angels? Most of them killed plenty of our brothers and then escaped. No way.”

“Haha, Atai, you still haven’t given up on getting yourself a guardian angel,” Blackwind laughed out loud.

“Of course not! My love for angels is true!” Atai lifted his chin proudly.

In Atai’s mind, if he could really bring back a guardian angel, he’d be second only to the queen aboard Devil One.

“You never kill fewer angels in battle than anyone else. You’d only find a guardian angel in your dreams,” Ato muttered.

Atai’s proud face slowly turned to Ato, his gaze so full of longing that even Ato felt uncomfortable.

“Sigh, a guardian angel… Maybe I’ll go and snatch another one some time. If she refuses the vow, I just won’t give her any food…” Atai mumbled his plan as he slipped aside.

Blackwind and Ato exchanged glances, both forcing awkward smiles. In each other’s eyes, they saw the same thought: Atai’s gone off the rails again.

“Why don’t you send him a dream tonight?” Ato whispered, nudging Blackwind.

“I have. Every time, he ties her up and demands the guardian’s vow, and wakes up in disbelief whenever he’s about to get it. What am I supposed to do?” Blackwind shrugged helplessly.

Ato stifled a laugh and started slicing a watermelon. Soon, he handed the peeled fruit, bigger than Blackwind’s head, to his friend. Blackwind took it, a little dazed, unsure how to start, when Ato spoke up.

“Blackwind, let’s forget about Atai for now and focus on the fireworks.” The two devils began quietly plotting—this time, a plan to steal Earth’s missiles took shape.

But instead of heavily-guarded nukes, they set their sights on ordinary short-range missiles—no need for huge yields, just something that could make noise. Even if they couldn’t detonate in space, weren’t there devil engineers? If a civilization capable of creating gods couldn’t modify a few missiles, what a joke that would be.

Using memories Blackwind had gleaned from dreams, they quickly located a few armories and chose one with weaker defenses. With a brief plan, the devils set off.

It was already past midnight. The newly-shifted sentry was still groggy but forced himself to focus on his post. Just as he did so, he spotted five black, winged humanoid figures flitting through the darkness. In the past, he might have thought it was a haunting. Now? Well, he was right—they were demons. Or, to be more precise, devils.

Before his mind could catch up, his hand had already hit the alarm. A shrill siren echoed through the armory camp.

Within two minutes, fully armed soldiers rushed out of the barracks, even tanks and heavy weapons aiming at the five hovering devils. But no one fired, nor did the devils advance. They simply hovered, observing.

A strange equilibrium persisted until an order crackled through the devils’ covert comms: the wormhole had breached the armory, buy time.

At once, the devils surged forward, launching themselves skyward. The tension in the soldiers snapped—the crack of gunfire and the roar of tanks filled the air.

The five who’d just made their charge patted their chests in disbelief.
“What kind of weapon was that? If we’d been hit, half our lives would be gone.”
“Enough talk—disrupt their formation!”

Outside, chaos erupted. Inside, over a dozen devils were busy hauling missiles, working up a sweat.