TCPUAAV Chapter 146

 

 

Siyan’s earnest words, filled with sincerity, still failed to convince Rong Heng or dissuade him from personally seeking vengeance for his mother.

 

This child had inherited both his and Farah’s blood—and along with it, their equally unyielding temperament. Siyan closed his eyes briefly, knowing that without a compelling reason, Rong Heng would never give up easily.

 

“I know what you’re thinking. But the Empire needs you now. As the Crown Prince, you cannot act on impulse.” Gaze fixed on his now fully grown son, Siyan’s eyes, for the first time, revealed a trace of weariness. “All of this began because of me. It should end with me.”

 

He looked deeply at Rong Heng, finally forced to reveal a secret he had buried in his heart for over a decade.

 

It was also the greatest pain of his life.

 

He had met Farah at the Imperial University. At the time, he was a professor there, while she was about to graduate.

 

Farah wasn’t one of his students. Because of her mother’s influence, she had long been passionate about improving the Ancient Human Protection Act. Siyan happened to be the university’s only professor of ancient human studies, so Farah often came to him to discuss revisions and ideas.

 

But what she didn’t know was that he had spent countless hours poring over those dense, lifeless legal texts—not for the sake of ancient humans, but for her.

 

Born in the slums, parentless and indifferent to race or creed, he had never cared much about life or death. But Farah kept seeking him out, again and again, her smile radiant as sunlight. Each time he saw her, it felt like the dark, icy corners of his soul began to melt.

 

And so, he scoured the university’s vast library for case law and legal precedents, working with her to gradually refine and build upon what had been only a skeletal framework for the Ancient Human Protection Act.

 

Even after she graduated, they remained in frequent contact.

 

At the time, he hadn’t realized the gulf between them, nor had he fully understood his own feelings. He was five years her senior and still held the title of her former teacher, so he had told himself she was just someone who needed guidance and care.

 

Then the Emperor died, and Farah ascended the throne.

 

She stood on the central plaza in front of Palka Palace and delivered a speech to the Empire, calm and composed even at twenty-three, revealing for the first time the formidable strength and iron will of the Ymir bloodline.

 

Siyan had watched that historic speech from his home, broadcast live across all media.

 

It was in that moment—faced with the immense divide between them—that he finally recognized the shameful truth in his heart:

 

He loved Farah.

 

But by then, she was already the Empress of the Empire, the blazing sun in the sky—utterly out of his reach.

 

Sometimes, when looking back on the past, he would wonder: if he hadn’t agreed to her request back then, maybe Farah would have chosen a husband who matched her in status and power, raised children, and lived a peaceful, happy life.

 

She would have been a wise and legendary ruler, her achievements etched into the annals of history.

 

But that day, dressed in an elaborate ceremonial gown, she had walked slowly to him, extended her hand, and said, “I’m preparing to officially implement the Ancient Human Protection Act across the Empire. As Empress, I must lead by example. Will you marry me and become my husband?”

 

He had gazed into her burning eyes, heart racing.

 

He said yes.

 

Farah defied all opposition, dismissing the protests of her ministers, and held the wedding in Palka Palace.

 

Everyone believed their marriage was nothing more than political theater—that the Empress, in promoting ancient human rights, had chosen to marry a low-born ancient human as a symbolic gesture.

 

He had once believed that too. After all, he knew how much Farah valued improving the status and rights of ancient humans, due to her mother’s tragic past.

 

But over time, he began to think otherwise. Of all the ancient humans in the Empire, Farah had chosen him. Perhaps… she loved him too.

 

That thought made him greedy.

 

He wanted more.

 

He wanted to be by her side forever. He wanted her, all of her.

 

But race remained an unbridgeable gulf.

 

The powerful Ymir could live for up to five hundred years, while frail ancient humans—even with the best medical technology—rarely lived beyond one hundred and fifty.

 

He couldn’t accept it.

 

He had once viewed life’s length with indifference. But the dark thoughts that had begun to fester in his heart drove him to try and change the inevitable—and in the end, he ensnared himself in his own web.

 

Imperial law strictly prohibited human experimentation. Farah’s own mother had been a victim of the infamous “Death Warrior Program.” That alone made him terrified to reveal his true intentions. So instead, he secretly began funding the remnants of the Holy Legion, who had never been completely eradicated.

 

Over a century ago, the Holy Legion had deceived countless ancient humans desperate to escape their frailty into joining the “Death Warrior Program.” The casualties had been catastrophic—but they did succeed in creating a batch of “death warriors.” These warriors, however, had no self-awareness and terrifying destructive power—even the Holy Legion couldn’t fully control them.

 

When the truth about the Death Warrior Program was exposed, the Holy Legion’s existence came to light. Farah’s father, the Emperor at the time, launched a brutal purge, vowing to wipe them out entirely. He also issued a special decree banning all forms of human experimentation. All related documents and research were sealed away.

 

But the Holy Legion, ever cunning, had prepared many escape routes. Its leader fled Sikkim with a band of loyal followers, going underground and plotting their eventual return.

 

After Farah ascended the throne, she quietly ordered the continued search for remnants of the Holy Legion.

 

But Siyan found them before she did.

 

He never told her. Instead, he allowed the Holy Legion to regrow its strength. As their secret benefactor, he provided funding and support—enough to restart the Death Warrior Program.

 

Under his guidance, the new iteration of the program made great strides, and the Holy Legion gradually expanded and flourished.

 

His original plan had been simple: once the experiments succeeded and he had completed his transformation, he would personally eliminate all surviving members of the Holy Legion, erasing every trace of their existence.

 

But as the saying goes—no plan survives contact with reality.

 

He had overlooked one crucial detail: ambition. Fed and emboldened by his support, the Holy Legion grew too bold. Behind his back, they began forging alliances—with the Four Great Conglomerates and even with the Zerg.

 

Together, in a bid to sabotage the Empire’s peace negotiations with the Zerg, they conspired to assassinate Farah.

 

In the moments before her death, Farah embedded the truth in a coded message. It took Siyan two full years to crack it. From Noah, he learned the full truth behind her death.

 

The weight of remorse was almost unbearable.

 

But he forced himself to go on. He had to live—for their child, to raise him to adulthood. And to track down those responsible for Farah’s death, and exact vengeance on her behalf.

 

Yet deep down, he knew with painful clarity:

 

The one most deserving of punishment was himself.

 

A sharp pain welled up in his chest. Siyan raised a hand to press against it. The spot beneath his palm was no longer soft and warm like a human’s—it was cold, hard, and unfeeling.

 

Only the heart beneath it still pulsed with warmth and life.

 

The world without Farah was unbearably lonely.

 

But he had to keep living.

 

“This is the price of my sin,” he said softly.

 

He met Rong Heng’s gaze, pain flashing briefly in his eyes before serenity returned. His voice left no room for argument.

 

Rong Heng lowered his eyes, no longer trying to debate who was right or wrong. He only said, “I understand.”

 

There was no hatred or disgust in his gaze—far less than Siyan had expected.

 

After Farah’s death, he had once tried to make amends to this child. But every time he looked into those deep golden eyes, so much like Farah’s, the guilt and shame returned in full force.

 

He felt unworthy to face him. Unfit to call himself his father. All he could do was watch him from afar.

 

To dismantle the declining empire and leave it in Rong Heng’s hands to rebuild—to fulfill Farah’s lifelong dream—might be the only redemption still available to him.

 

“Sijialan is no longer a serious threat. I’ve reached an agreement with the Holy Son, Lansing. I hear you’ve had dealings with him before—working together should be easy. Just send someone to coordinate from within, and Sijialan will fall quickly… Leave the Zerg and the Holy Legion to me.”

 

Siyan, rarely so talkative, gave detailed instructions. At the end, he looked long and deeply at Rong Heng and said slowly, “As for Sikkim… I leave it to you.”

 

He had said similar words many times in his former identity as Lucien. Rong Heng had never taken them seriously.

 

Until the news of Sikkim’s crisis arrived—and then, he finally understood what Siyan meant by “I leave it to you.”

 

——A massive swarm of Zerg suddenly descended on Sikkim, laying siege to the planet.

 

At the same time, the Emperor vanished without warning. Chaos engulfed Palka Palace. The corpses of Empress Thea, Prince Soma, and the leaders of the Four Great Conglomerates were carried out one after another.

 

Their bodies were mutilated, long decayed, reeking with rot.

 

The once-untouchable figures who stood at the pinnacle of the Empire’s power had died quietly, without dignity.

 

The government collapsed. The military scrambled to seize control. Nobles and tycoons, sensing danger, fled Sikkim with their wealth. The common folk, unable to leave, could only pray that the city’s shield would hold a little longer.

 

Sikkim fell into utter chaos.

 

That was when the Orient arrived.

 

Dozens of warships formed a battle line. Countless fighters launched from their bays and clashed with the Zerg in brutal combat.

 

Outside Sikkim’s space station, war raged. The remains of Zerg and shattered fighters floated in the void… The grisly battle was broadcast live via satellite across the holonet. Rong Heng’s fame soared to its peak.

 

All the planets near Sikkim that had joined the Eastern Alliance sent reinforcements of their own accord.

 

The bitter fighting dragged on for half a month. The Zerg poured endlessly from the black hole. Every time the rift opened, the hearts of the Empire’s people rose into their throats—but no matter how dire the situation became, the Orient and its fleet never retreated.

 

They held the line.

 

They repelled the Zerg.

 

Countless Zerg corpses burned in artillery fire. Wherever the satellite cameras turned, the sky was ablaze.

 

Half a month later, Rong Heng led the fleet to land on Sikkim. He was welcomed into Palka Palace by a jubilant crowd.

 

The people loudly called for him to take the throne. Ministers in the Senate and the military, for various reasons, were also forced to support his ascension.

 

But Rong Heng refused again and again. He never agreed.

 

Instead, he used the forces brought from Planet B3024 to fill the power vacuum in Sikkim, forming a temporary government to manage affairs. Meanwhile, he dispatched Ruan Yuebai, Nota, and Heli to lead their respective forces toward Sijialan and Tutar, preparing to end the civil war in one decisive strike and unite the entire nation against the Zerg.

 

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To think all of this happened because he wanted to live long enough to be with his wife yet his very actions brought her to her demise… orz

 

(Glad to know Lansing is well wouldn’t have expected anything else from that lil psycho lol)

 

Thanks for reading!

For every three ko-fis, I will upload a bonus chapter~