Chapter 75: Bearing the Responsibility

If it were the Mansendis of the past—

he would have killed that child without hesitation, the same way he’d killed those royal-blood with his own hands.

That child’s existence had never been his intention. Whatever Tasiya planned to use the child for, the child was, in the end, a mistake.

And if it was a mistake, then it shouldn’t exist.

Even if the child was still inside a royal cocoon.

Even if he still hadn’t been born—hadn’t even opened his eyes and seen this world.

Everything those royal-blood had done had already proven one thing: a rotten apple had no value left to save.

And fallen royal-blood didn’t need successors.

No one understood better than Mansendis that the Saint Clan was already teetering.

It was walking along the edge of collapse. Every Saint Clan member trapped inside it lived in exhaustion.

A long lifespan and powerful healing—under endless torment—became more like shackles, forcing them to stay clear-eyed and despairing as they repeated the same fate over and over again.

Those royal-blood, and Tasiya too... almost all of them had been seeking release.

This was a race destined to perish.

Anyone could see it. Their disintegration and ruin were only a matter of time.

No future. No hope.

And for a race on the verge of destruction, Mansendis didn’t believe the existence of a royal cocoon was a good thing.

A new royal-blood would only carry the pain forward.

If that was the case, then he might as well end everything in his own hands.

Before he met Wen Yuzhi, Mansendis had never once changed this thought.

He was tired.

Tired of the Saint Clan’s future. Tired of the identity of royal-blood. Deeply, thoroughly tired.

So when Kasha questioned him, and Mansendis thought of who he used to be, his answer was yes.

That answer wasn’t surprising.

Maybe, for Kasha and the others, it was exactly what they’d expected.

But what Mansendis said next made all of them freeze.

He didn’t respond to Kasha’s confusion.

He didn’t need to. Kasha and the others already had the answer in their hearts.

What Mansendis said was, “But if you ask me now—if you ask whether I would kill this child—my answer is no.”

The Mansendis of the past had held no expectations for the Saint Clan’s fate, and so naturally he’d held no feelings for an unknown child.

But now, it wasn’t the same.

Just as Kasha and the others could never have imagined it—before seeing the cub with their own eyes—

Mansendis, back then, probably couldn’t have imagined it either...

That one day, a cub would stumble in, clumsy and breathless, and crash into his life.

In this child, he experienced what blood-bond family meant.

With Wen Yuzhi, Mansendis finally felt like maybe this world wasn’t quite as terrible as he’d thought.

If the Saint Clan were a rotten apple, then the cub was a trembling new sprout pushing up from that rotten flesh.

It hadn’t seen sunlight yet. It hadn’t tasted rain.

It only gave off the fragile pulse of life.

Of course Mansendis could crush that sprout outright.

It was so weak. Killing it would take no more than a thought.

And if it died, it wouldn’t repeat the same mistake. It wouldn’t have to suffer the way they had.

That seemed like the optimal answer.

But to the cub, it wasn’t fair.

Every life had the right to live.

Whether it was pain, or being unable to escape fate—he should still have the chance to choose, instead of having someone decide for him, arrogantly, on his behalf.

Mansendis thought ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) those royal-blood had fallen into indulgence to flee from fate—but if he truly did this, wouldn’t that be another form of running away?

Just because he’d already decided the Saint Clan would be destroyed sooner or later...

did that mean he could use that as a reason to strip the cub of his life?

During this time, Mansendis had been thinking about that question, again and again.

And later—when the cub nestled into his arms, when those little wings brushed lightly against him—

Mansendis suddenly understood.

What he needed to do wasn’t to escape.

What he needed to do was, while the cub was still young, take on the duty of a parent and clear away every obstacle for his child.

So that in the future—even if Wen Yuzhi truly had to face pain—

he wouldn’t have to be afraid or lost.

And Mansendis would stay by his side, watch him grow, and let that young bird, under his protection, slowly fill out its wings.

That was what a qualified parent should do.

“Tasiya once said that if she had a child, she would give him the best of everything—let him have the happiest childhood, grow up in love and joy.”

As Mansendis said that, his gaze swept, inadvertently, toward a corner to the side.

But before Kasha and the others could notice anything strange, Mansendis had already withdrawn his eyes.

He looked at them and said, “And that... is my wish as well.”

“I will give him all my love...”

“...”

Kasha’s face showed raw shock. Even Mond looked a little stunned.

Not only because of what those words meant—

but because Mansendis had spoken them out loud.

Mansendis’s personality had always made it clear he wasn’t someone who put feelings on his tongue.

His expression was always cold and indifferent, as if he’d already cast every emotion aside.

Whether it was Kasha and the others or Mond, they’d all long since grown used to the silver-haired sovereign’s detached calm that gave away neither joy nor anger.

Especially Kasha and the others.

In their memory, Mansendis was still the prince who had killed every royal-blood—and could still turn around and walk away in silence.

None of them had ever imagined that one day, a Mansendis so ruthless and cold could say the word “love” to them, almost like a declaration.

And say it in such a direct, open way.

“...You’ve changed a lot.”

After a long silence, Kasha said it softly.

Mansendis really had changed.

Compared to the way he used to keep everything outside of him at a distance, now when he spoke of the cub, there was already a faint trace of warmth and feeling in his tone.

But that feeling seemed limited only to Wen Yuzhi.

When he gathered his expression away again and faced Kasha and the other female Saint Clan members, he was still the silver-haired sovereign who could make them feel fear.

“Where did you lose him?” Mansendis pressed on.

Kasha replied, “Near the Type-A star system. The direction they fled in... should’ve been toward the border of the Hoffmann Empire.”

You could say that was also one of the reasons they gave up the chase.

If that starship truly entered human territory, then driving Saint Clan warships across a border line without cause—no matter which race did it—would be treated as a provocation on the spot.

They’d chosen to return because they’d planned to have Tasiya step in as sovereign and demand the human side hand over those star pirates.

They just hadn’t expected so many things to happen afterward.

“Humans...?”

Because of Wen Yuzhi’s dream, Mansendis had already begun to suspect this matter might be connected to humans.

After all, the method of mental energy detection had first been proposed on the human side—by someone named Kegso.

And the appearance of those star pirates was strange, too.

They’d slipped into Esoris in secret, with a clear target: the room Kasha and the others were guarding. And they’d struck at the exact moment Kasha and the others had been lured away.

It all felt premeditated.

They must have learned the base location through some channel. Maybe someone had even been in communication with them—letting them know in advance that Kasha and the others had been drawn away.

And like Kasha, Mansendis didn’t believe those star pirates had been hired by Brand and the other royal-blood.

Brand and the others were royal-blood. They already had personal guards they could mobilize. There was no reason to take the long way around and hire a bunch of low-quality star pirates.

So there was a high chance those star pirates had been sent by another force.

As for which force...

Mansendis thought of the institute mentioned in the cub’s dream.

He asked Kasha a question.

“How did the royal cocoon come to be?”

Kasha froze for a moment.

Then she shook her head. “We don’t know. We only received the order.”

They’d only seen the royal cocoon for the first time at Thorn Castle after they received that command.

Before that, they hadn’t known it existed at all.

And as for how the royal cocoon had come into being—they knew even less.

Kalli might have known, but she’d already died, and so much time had passed...

The only thing Kasha could think of was, “The queen once had contact with a human.”

“A human?” Mansendis lifted his eyes.

“Yes,” Kasha said. “For a period of time, the queen was frequently in contact with a human.”

Kalli had accidentally let it slip to her.

The Saint Clan rarely contacted the outside world—let alone humans.

When Kasha heard about it, she’d been a little curious, but she hadn’t taken it seriously.

What made her connect it to the royal cocoon was this: when Tasiya handed them the royal cocoon, she told Kasha and the others that if anything happened to her, they could seek that person’s help.

If it became necessary, they could hand the royal cocoon over to that person.

Later, when they couldn’t leave the Saint Clan because of the upheaval, Kasha used the light-brain Tasiya had given them to send a message to that person, informing them the royal cocoon had been stolen.

Mansendis asked, “Do you still have that light-brain?”

“I do.” Kasha nodded.

Mansendis glanced at Mond.

Mond immediately bent and bowed. “Your Majesty, I’ll send it for testing at once.”

Mansendis didn’t speak.

Only after Mond left with Kasha and the others did he turn his eyes toward the corner he’d glanced at earlier.

“Come out.”

“...”

In the direction Mansendis was looking, a tall potted plant stood there, separating that spot from the corridor space.

But a certain eavesdropping cub had done a terrible job hiding.

Through the gaps in the green leaves, you could see the tip of a small wing that hadn’t been tucked away.

At the silver-haired sovereign’s voice, that exposed wing-tip jerked hard.

Like it had been startled.

Then it hurriedly shrank back inside.

After a long moment, a small figure finally shuffled out, moving slowly.

—Wen Yuzhi.

He came out with his head lowered, and his little wings drooped along with him.

“Dad...”