Free Web NovelSelet tapped a few times on the control panel, and the heavily fortified metal door slowly opened.
Wen Yuzhi sat on Mansendis’s shoulder, carried in by the silver-haired sovereign as they stepped into the room at the deepest part of the supervision ward.
The Saint Clan named Woke was sprawled in the center of the room.
Woke was still in beast form, but the chains that had bound the body were already all removed. What was revealed before Wen Yuzhi’s eyes were wounds covering that enormous frame.
Some had been carved in by the iron chains.
Some had been inflicted while struggling in agony.
Beneath curled, overturned scales was a wide stretch of mottled, blurred flesh.
It looked much like the first time Wen Yuzhi had seen the silver giant beast on Kanirila—this giant beast, too, was covered in injuries.
Only Woke’s current state looked even weaker than the silver giant beast’s had.
When Wen Yuzhi and the others arrived, Woke lay completely still. If not for the faint rise and fall of breathing, Wen Yuzhi wouldn’t have dared to be sure the giant beast in front of him was still alive.
Perhaps catching the scent of a stranger intruding, Woke forced both eyes open and let out an angry, warning roar in their direction.
But before the giant beast could launch an attack, Mansendis subdued Woke in an instant.
That massive body slammed down hard against the floor. The back arched uncontrollably; all four limbs sprawled low, the head lowered—Woke trembled, presenting a posture of submission.
The aura of royal-blood Salilaino was enough to inspire fear. Even in this mindless state, instinct embedded in the bloodline still made Woke choose to submit.
The silver-haired sovereign advanced step by step, finally stopping at a distance of less than three meters from the giant beast.
It was a suitable distance.
Close enough for the cub to observe up close, yet safe enough—also the furthest extent to which this out-of-control Saint Clan could tolerate an intrusion into its territory.
And at this closer range, Wen Yuzhi’s perception became clearer.
—Woke was in pain.
The pain was almost visible to the naked eye.
Wen Yuzhi rarely felt emotions this intense from a Saint Clan.
But from this giant beast, what he sensed was a mass of darkness that felt as if it wanted to swallow everything into it.
Pain was, by nature, one of the most infectious emotions. When that negativity grew strong enough, it turned into something as terrifying as a swamp—something that would pull even an onlooker in before they realized it.
Although the Saint Clan lying on the floor had been forced into a semblance of calm under the drug’s effects, inside the body, violent, frenzied mental energy still roamed everywhere. The suffering Woke endured hadn’t eased in the slightest—if anything, it had long since surpassed what this body could bear.
That was why mental-energy treatment was still, to this day, an extremely thorny problem across the galaxy. Not just anyone could ensure they wouldn’t be swept under in pain this extreme.
If he had to use a metaphor—
When Wen Yuzhi had soothed other Saint Clan before, the negative emotions he felt from them were at most a low, dark cloud.
But what Woke gave him now felt like a crazed, ravaging thunderstorm.
Woke’s condition was already hanging by a thread.
No one would be willing to take the enormous risk of approaching.
In other words, the moment Woke lost control, the death sentence had already been handed down—lying here was nothing but a final, lingering struggle to stay alive.
Wen Yuzhi wasn’t unfamiliar with death.
But after arriving on Dark Tower Star, everything he’d touched was the beautiful, shadowless world Mansendis and Mond and the others had worked so hard to build around him.
And in the places he didn’t know, the entire Saint Clan was suffering under the torment of mental-energy disorder.
Woke was only one of them.
Woke wasn’t even special. There were many, many low-tier soldiers like this within the Saint Clan. When war came, they were consumables that could be discarded at any time.
No one would remember Woke’s death. It would only become a cold number on a list.
As royal blood, Wen Yuzhi could choose not to care about a low-tier soldier like this at all.
The fact that he had been willing to come see Woke in person already counted as favor.
Now that he’d seen enough, he could turn around and leave—return to the palace and keep thinking about what to eat for his next dinner, or take advantage of the nice weather and stroll through the gardens.
He had the right to be that willful.
Or rather—this was what royal blood would do.
Salilaino at the top of the pyramid were arrogant and proud; they never cared about the life or death of a disposable piece.
After all, if one low-tier soldier died, there would be an endless stream of soldiers who would continue to swear loyalty.
As long as Salilaino still existed, the Saint Clan would not be destroyed.
They didn’t need any worries. They only needed to keep indulging themselves, finding that tiny sliver of pleasure in an extravagant, depraved life—something that could numb the pain.
And yet as one of the only two remaining royal-blood, Wen Yuzhi did not fit Salilaino behavior at all.
He climbed down and stood in front of the giant beast.
Selet tensed, about to move—only for the bone spines to stop that from happening.
It seemed Mansendis was tacitly permitting the cub’s every move.
And the bone spines continuously circling around them also made it clear the silver-haired sovereign hadn’t left them unprotected.
The moment the giant beast made the slightest move, those seemingly calm bone spines would immediately pierce its throat.
The reason Wen Yuzhi dared to take such a risk was also because he trusted that Mansendis could protect him.
He stood before the giant beast without directly touching it, and instead released his mental energy.
A crystal-clear butterfly flew out from his palm once again.
It lightly landed on the giant beast’s forehead.
So light. So gentle.
Compared to the colossal beast, it was vanishingly small.
Yet within that fragile, tiny existence was a current of quiet, peaceful mental energy.
Through the butterfly, Wen Yuzhi extended his mental-energy tendrils, bit by bit, into the giant beast’s body.
His target was the mental sea located within the giant beast’s brain.
It was an extremely dangerous action.
For any race, the mental sea was the most important existence within the body. And precisely because of that, it was also relatively fragile.
For a powerful race like the Saint Clan, they had scales harder than steel, layered bones that could wrap and protect the body, and an utterly abnormal recovery ability—killing them from the outside was difficult.
But if their mental sea could be destroyed, a Saint Clan whose mental sea shattered would die almost instantly.
Therefore, under normal circumstances, to protect their mental sea from harm, they would instinctively guard against any outside mental energy.
Wen Yuzhi did not take that kind of risk. freeωebnovēl.c૦m
After entering the giant beast’s brain, he didn’t barge directly into the mental sea. He first stayed on the outskirts, slowly soothing the violent, chaotic mental energy there.
And the cub’s mental energy was like a ball of soft, harmless cotton. It carried no sharp aggressiveness; instead it was gentle and plush, making it hard for the giant beast to feel rejection or disgust toward it.
Moreover, after being soothed and combed through, that riotous patch of mental energy truly did seem to gradually calm down. ƒгeewebnovёl.com
From the outside, the trembling caused by pain in the giant beast’s body visibly lessened.
...It worked?
The Saint Clan in the room stared tightly at the changes in the giant beast.
Their mood was, without question, tense.
To this day, across the galaxy, there was no particularly good method for treating mental energy—at most some psychological counseling, and in the majority of cases, it was simply waiting to die.
The Saint Clan were the race with the most severe mental-energy disorder. They had tried many methods, but none had any effect.
This pain, like a parasite gnawing at the bone, tormented them day after day.
And just when they had given up and begun to accept this miserable fate—
the Prosperous Mother Goddess blessed them once again.
They had a little Highness: a royal-blood who had awakened a healing gift.
Many Saint Clan present had felt Wen Yuzhi’s mental energy during that previous meeting. Even now, remembering the lightness and relief after being combed through left them feeling almost floaty.
Only that soothing had been far too brief.
From that sensation alone, they couldn’t be sure how far the little Highness’s healing ability could truly go.
And now, perhaps the answer would be revealed very soon...
Wen Yuzhi had no spare energy to pay attention to the Saint Clan in the room. At this moment, he was already guiding his mental energy, preparing to enter the giant beast’s mental sea.
This was the most critical step.
His soft mental-energy tendrils slowly approached that chaotic, disordered place. Perhaps because the earlier soothing had taken effect, the giant beast did not stop this gentle «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» mental energy from entering.
Of course, it might also be that Woke had no way to stop it—
the giant beast’s mental sea had already begun to collapse.
Sweat beaded on Wen Yuzhi’s forehead. Eyes shut tight, he released even more mental energy into the giant beast’s brain to begin repairs.
Strictly speaking, Wen Yuzhi had never learned how to control mental energy, nor had he learned how to repair a shattered mental sea.
Everything he was doing now was purely instinct. Somehow, without a teacher, he gradually grasped these soothing techniques.
When a surge of riotous mental energy came, he would “pat” it. When there wasn’t, he would repair the other’s mental sea—like building with blocks, reconstructing the collapsed, shattered parts little by little.
It sounded simple, but most people simply couldn’t do it.
Not everyone had the courage to approach a patient whose mental energy was out of control. Not everyone dared to risk using their own mental energy to soothe someone else—let alone enter another’s mental sea.
If anything went wrong, that violent, chaotic mental energy would retaliate in an instant, causing tremendous backlash to the one doing the combing.
In severe cases, Wen Yuzhi’s own mental sea could be damaged.
Mansendis remained on high alert, watching the cub’s condition the entire time.
The moment anything went wrong, Mansendis would immediately choose to kill that Saint Clan.
No matter what, Mansendis would never allow Wen Yuzhi to suffer even the slightest harm.
Selet and the others were also taut with tension. Every Saint Clan present had their eyes fixed on the giant beast, as if waiting for a miracle to happen.
As time passed, they watched the giant beast’s breathing gradually become steady. They watched the blood-red crimson in its eyes fade little by little, revealing the original color beneath.
When Wen Yuzhi finally withdrew his mental energy and opened his eyes, what he saw was a pale, faint shade.
The Saint Clan named Woke had smoke-gray pupils.
—A very special color.
Woke also seemed to see Wen Yuzhi.
Woke’s mind was still muddled. When realization finally caught up, the brain that had only just resumed turning seemed to seize up in an instant.
...Was this a hallucination? Or a dream being had right before death?
Otherwise, how could Woke be seeing a little doll-like figure—someone that looked like the little Highness—standing right in front of them?
It had to be a hallucination!
Thinking that, Woke closed the eyes and opened them again.
The little doll was still there.
Wen Yuzhi even waved at the giant beast in front of him.
Only then did Woke finally realize this wasn’t an illusion at all—
the little Highness truly was standing right there.
A joy beyond words surged up at once, but immediately after came a wave of panic.
...Don’t come closer!
The vertical pupils tightened abruptly. Remembering the crazed, out-of-control state from before, Woke instinctively shrank back, wanting to put more distance between himself and Wen Yuzhi.
Woke hadn’t forgotten that mental energy was still unstable. Woke was afraid that if control slipped again, Woke might hurt the little Highness in front of him.
Besides...
Woke must look awful right now...
Woke had seen what out-of-control Saint Clan looked like before.
Just like other races said—like mindless monster beasts.
Terrifying. And ugly.
Woke didn’t want the little Highness to see such a hideous version of Woke.
Woke curled up desperately, trying to hide the wounds on the body—but no matter how much that enormous beast frame tried to shrink, it still couldn’t fully cover the injuries.
It was all futile.
Wen Yuzhi also felt the giant beast’s avoidance. Once again, he released a little mental energy to soothe it, calming down the faint signs of another impending riot.
Woke settled again. Only then did Woke notice—there was no disgust in the little Highness’s eyes the way Woke had assumed.
The cub’s gaze was very soft.
There was no fear in it, no revulsion, and none of that lofty, above-it-all pity.
Those pale-gold pupils, under the bright light, were nothing but clear, clean purity.
In Woke’s mind, an image suddenly surfaced.
It was one of the few remaining fragments of awareness preserved after reason had been lost—
the cub sitting on Selet’s shoulder, looking at Woke.
The look in those eyes then had been the same as now—no rejection, no fear.
Instead, what Woke had seen in the little Highness’s eyes was a deep sadness.
...Why be sad?
...Because of Woke?
...Was the little Highness feeling heartache for Woke?
In that moment, Woke felt as if the heart was about to shatter.
Woke had done something terrible. Woke had made the little Highness feel sad.
It shouldn’t have been like this...
Woke had been so eager to be chosen as a personal guard, but in the end, what Woke showed the little Highness was the most miserable, wretched state.
In an instant, fierce pain threatened to drown Woke whole.
The last time consciousness slipped away, Woke also felt tears fall from the corners of the eyes.
Wen Yuzhi didn’t know why the Saint Clan in front of him suddenly started crying.
He froze for a beat, then stepped forward with a clean handkerchief, wanting to wipe the tears away.
But with his current size, the little handkerchief was obviously far too small for a Saint Clan in beast form.
Wen Yuzhi realized the awkwardness, too.
He could only write on the board:
[Don’t be sad.]
[Your condition still isn’t stable. Do you want to come back with me?]
Come back?
Back where?
Woke didn’t even understand what was going on, but still nodded instinctively.
Seeing that Woke finally wasn’t crying anymore, Wen Yuzhi secretly let out a quiet breath of relief.
Then Wen Yuzhi turned and fluttered back to the silver-haired sovereign’s side, holding up the board to ask:
[Can I take Woke back with me?]
Bringing a soldier currently serving in the military back to the royal palace—Wen Yuzhi still felt he needed to ask Mansendis first.
Seeing how Wen Yuzhi’s eyes were full of hopeful expectation, Mansendis ultimately couldn’t bear to let that hope fall empty.
Mansendis nodded.
Wen Yuzhi immediately beamed, wanting to throw himself back into Mansendis’s arms.
But the moment his wings moved, a wave of dizziness hit. His body felt as if it lost balance.
Mansendis only saw the cub wobble in midair—then collapse softly, like cotton, as he fell.
