Gu Qing lifted his gaze to the firmament.
The barrier that had enveloped the entire planet, long sustained by the collapse of the Immortal Palace and the extinction of the demonic souls, finally dissipated without a trace. Silver-white warships pierced through the clouds, streaking across the sky like the first light of dawn.
He raised a hand slightly, compressing his aura, and his appearance gradually shifted—his black hair fading into deep blue, his eyes gleaming with a cold, oceanic light, once again taking the form of “Lan Dai.”
Milton beside him froze for a moment.
The shell of the female creature before him was an illusion—an extraordinary power unlike anything seen in the insectoid species. Not only could it wield a sword to slay demons, it could also freely alter its gender. The steadfast resolve Milton had believed in trembled for the first time at this revelation.
—How many things about you are there that I still don’t know?
Several warships landed steadily atop the ruined mountain peak. No sooner had their hulls stabilized than two figures darted toward them.
“General!”
Il sprinted to Milton, face lined with anxiety. “Thank goodness, you’re safe! It’s been a month—we kept receiving the last positioning signal, but couldn’t enter the planet. The magnetic field was completely scrambled!”
Before he could finish, Philius caught up, his tone uncharacteristically tense. “It only just now returned to normal, allowing us to lock onto your location—”
His voice faltered when he noticed the blue-haired female insect beside Milton, eyes narrowing slightly.
“…It’s you?”
Il’s eyes widened in recognition. “Wait… you two have been together all this time?”
They exchanged a complex glance.
This blue-haired female first appeared on the black market, wielding a sword to turn the tide, privately categorized as an “unassessable special combat asset.” Now she stood silently beside the general, her presence even harder to read than Milton remembered.
Il lowered his voice, asking Milton: “…Who is he, really?”
Milton didn’t answer immediately. His expression remained calm, purple eyes narrowing slightly as though weighing thoughts or suppressing emotion.
Il opened his mouth to ask again but was halted by a single look.
The atmosphere froze. Gu Qing remained beside Milton, expression neutral, neither speaking nor explaining.
Breaking the silence, Philius spoke, voice low: “…During the last black-market rescue operation, at least three heavy units had been deployed early. By the time we arrived, they were fully positioned—like a trap waiting for us.”
His gaze darkened with barely contained anger. “If not for the general’s timely withdrawal and his appearance… those male insects might not have been rescued, and we wouldn’t have survived intact.”
He paused, continuing: “We tried to trace communications and insect movements, but all leads vanished upon entering the upper layers. We suspect… the information was leaked internally.”
His eyes hardened, voice dropping further: “…Likely, there were insects in the council acting behind the scenes.”
A shadow crossed Gu Qing’s brow. He recalled the recent corrupted voice recordings hidden deep within the light network, deliberately sowing distrust between him and Milton.
This was no coincidence. Someone had manipulated events, trying to drive a wedge between them.
—Time to contact Loaes and investigate the matter thoroughly.
Milton remained expressionless, silent for a moment before quietly saying, “Make a record. I will personally investigate this.”
All insects boarded the warship. Doors closed, silver flame glimmered, thrusters roared, and the massive vessel tore through the clouds, leaving the planet of ancient secrets behind.
Inside, Gu Qing watched the receding planet, black eyes deep as the ocean, concealing countless thoughts. Yet one doubt lingered—the crystal shard extracted from the beast. Its spirit pattern remained inexplicable. Traces of demonic energy hinted at a latent power, like a blade suspended over the heart, reminding him the conflict was far from over.
The starship moved steadily through the void, the glow of the galaxy reflecting off its hull. Hours later, a temporary meeting convened.
Inside the conference room, lights burned brightly, stars streaked past the windows, yet tension hung like a battlefield.
Milton sat at the head, uniform crisp, expression composed. The blue-haired female stood silently beside him, face stern.
“That planet was an unregistered civilization relic. Magnetic and mental fields were highly abnormal. All conventional detection equipment failed, leaving only preliminary location records,” Milton stated, calm and precise.
Il blinked. “Mental interference? You mean… an ancient civilization relic?”
“Unlike conventional technology,” Milton replied evenly, “its structure and techniques do not match any known records in this sector. I cannot explain the anomaly with current knowledge. The only certainty—without him, I might not have escaped.”
Philius pondered. “He’s a relic specialist?”
Milton did not respond directly. “His abilities surpass anything we were trained for. The relic’s environment had both mental interference and spatial collapse. He remained calm, guiding us out with precision—I trusted him.”
He added: “The relic self-destructed due to magnetic chaos. No evidence remains. The incident is preliminarily filed; the report will be sent to the Marshal’s office. This insect is not enlisted, nor in communications records. No further inquiries are necessary.”
Il and Philius exchanged glances but obeyed in solemn acknowledgment: “Understood.”
Milton rose, signaling Gu Qing: “Meeting adjourned.”
Once they left, Il whispered, “The relic… nothing remains. Can such a place exist?”
Philius frowned. “True or not, the General trusts him. That’s enough.”
Meanwhile, at the Central Star, the Marshal’s office glowed brightly.
Ackland Hubert sat at his desk, eyes on the flashing data screen—S-class filing, source: Milton Collins.
The record was brief:
Name: Lan Dai
Origin: Unknown
Species: Military Female
Ability: Unassessable
Alignment: Unknown
Ackland pressed confirm.
“Observe, priority A.” The military intelligence system activated.
He gazed at the starfield. “…Perhaps it’s time to see him personally.”
Days later, aboard the warship, central conference room.
In the subdued pressure, the only illumination was the communications terminal. The silver light remained off but its presence suffused the room.
Milton sat at the head, purple eyes lowered. Gu Qing, in his Lan Dai form, stood beside him, composed and indifferent.
The little silver companion murmured: “Uuu… so much pressure… is the Marshal here to interrogate my Sword Lord?!”
A brief tone signaled connection. The light panel activated. A tall, silver-haired Marshal appeared.
“Lan Dai,” Ackland said, voice cold as frost, “thank you for attending this meeting.”
Gu Qing raised his eyes, nodding slightly, calm. “Marshal.”
Milton tilted his head, quietly observing him.
Ackland’s gaze sharpened, cutting to the core: “Reports show you twice saved General Milton and his forces—once in the black market, once at the relic. This is no coincidence. Lan Dai, why did you intervene?”
Gu Qing’s expression remained unchanged, voice gentle: “I come from the Border Colonies. I had often heard of the General. He was born a commoner, exercises restraint, does not slaughter prisoners, and even protects civilians in chaos.”
His tone was low, tempered with respect. “Such an officer deserves admiration.”
Milton’s brow twitched slightly but said nothing.
The little silver companion whispered: “Is… is this a confession?!”
Ackland stayed composed: “Your swordsmanship and relic-handling techniques surpass anything in this sector. Where do your abilities come from?”
Gu Qing looked down. “I was taught by an elder, living in seclusion on a desolate star. He emerged only to teach me a fraction.”
Ackland studied him long and silently, then asked softly: “If I invite you to join the military formally, would you accept?”
Milton’s fingers twitched minutely, eyes locked on Gu Qing, purple eyes darkening.
The little companion squeaked: “Wow! The Marshal is personally recruiting him! And right in front of the General! So thrilling!”
Gu Qing remained composed, tone measured: “I am undisciplined and ill-suited for military regulations. The military is not my place.”
He paused, softening, voice gentler: “But if the military faces danger in the future, and the General requires aid, I will consider intervening. This is the extent of my commitment.”
Ackland remained silent for several beats, finally nodding: “Understood.”
“You are now on the Marshal’s special assistance roster, code name ‘Lan Dai,’ designation B-1. Under special control of the Marshal’s office, not formal military, database hidden. Tasks will be relayed through the General directly.”
The panel dimmed; the Marshal’s figure dissolved, though his presence lingered, pressing the room into silence.
“Communication ended.”
After the meeting, Gu Qing and Milton walked side by side back to their quarters. The corridor echoed only with their footsteps. Milton suddenly stopped, spinning to face him, voice low but quivering with emotion: “Gu Qing—where do you truly come from?”
His gaze searched Gu Qing’s eyes, purple irises flickering with doubt and inquiry. “Is it… the same world as the Immortal? Did you come here to deal with the demons?”
His voice thickened, heavy: “The demons, the demonic energy… what is happening?”
Gu Qing halted, pausing briefly, then replied evenly: “I come from the Xiuzhen Realm, a world completely different from yours.”
“There, we call ourselves humans—no male or female insects, only men and women.”
He looked at the starlight streaming through the window, expression grave: “This world teeters on the edge of collapse. I came to prevent it.”
He inhaled deeply. “I did not expect the source of this disaster to also be linked to the Xiuzhen Realm. Demonic energy is corrupting this world’s foundations, polluting minds and driving beasts into frenzy.”
“And the so-called demon seed is the root of it all. I must find it and destroy it to end this catastrophe.”
Milton stared, fingers tightening, voice choked with restrained unease: “And your plan? You… won’t face it alone, like that Immortal?”
Gu Qing did not answer immediately, walking to the viewport. The galaxy flowed past, stars reflected in his deep black eyes.
“No,” he said calmly and decisively. “It is more complicated than you imagine. I even suspect the high-ranking officials here have colluded with the Xiuzhen Realm.”
“This society is profoundly twisted. Female insects are suppressed; males appear honored but are trapped in golden cages, with no real choice or power.”
“False glory and status are prison bars, feeding resentment, fear, and despair—breeding grounds for demonic energy.”
He turned, eyes like blades in starlight.
“I will end it all.”
Milton was momentarily speechless, something stirring deep within. He looked at Gu Qing, finally realizing—the man before him comes from a distant world, bearing a vast, cruel destiny no one else could carry.
A path destined for solitude, yet no one could walk it in his place.
Emotion welled up. Milton asked: “…This isn’t your world. Why involve yourself?”
Gu Qing smiled faintly, but the smile did not reach his eyes.
“Not just because of the Immortal’s will.”
“It is also the consequence sown by the Xiuzhen Realm.”
“I cannot watch its ill effects fall upon another world.”
Milton studied him, throat tight, recalling the Immortal silently passing away in the palace.
Instinctively he asked: “Then… the presence always by your side—what is it?”
Gu Qing paused, voice gentle, tinged with surprise. “You noticed?”
Milton nodded, calm but internally stirred: “During conversations with the Immortal, sometimes it spoke behind you. You would answer.”
Gu Qing replied softly: “It is a special existence, an embodiment of this world’s laws.”
Suddenly, a silver-white light flickered between them, condensing into a lively glowing orb.
“Waaah! You actually noticed me?! General Insect’s observation skills are top-notch!”
Milton: “…?”
Gu Qing rubbed his forehead, sighing softly: “…Fine, come out, just don’t be too noisy.”
The small silver orb rolled like a playful cloud, circled Gu Qing once, and settled between them.
“Hello! I’m Little Dao! Officially assigned to critique, observe, and—accompany our Sword Lord in slaying monsters, leveling up, and saving the world!”
“Our Sword Lord is amazing! Not only can he slay demon souls, he can cook—and even take care of the Insect General’s heart~”
Milton was momentarily at a loss for words. He had never encountered a being like this—no discernible energy source, no physical form, yet able to actively interact with insects and exhibit autonomous consciousness.
Instinctively, he looked toward Gu Qing, eyes unusually filled with astonishment, hesitation, and even a trace of wonder.
“…Is this what you called a ‘manifestation of the law’?”
Gu Qing gave a light, affirmative nod.
Milton turned his gaze back to the rolling silver light, expression strange, throat moving as if to speak, but ultimately he couldn’t resist a quiet murmur: “…Quite cute, actually.”
The words barely left his lips when his breath momentarily caught.
The little Heavenly Dao orb immediately seemed ignited. “Eh eh eh—did you just say I’m cute?! I heard that! I heard that! The Insect General has good taste, just like our Sword Lord—such an amazing eye!”
It began spinning wildly, attempting to form a tiny silver blossom, as if expressing immense pride.
Gu Qing pressed a hand to his forehead, voice laced with exasperation: “…Quiet.”
With a flick of his finger, a wave of sword intent shot into the air. The little orb shrank slightly, huffing, rolling back to his side while murmuring softly: “So I can’t be called cute either… Sword Lord, you’re jealous, aren’t you…”
Milton’s lips curved in a faint smile, eyes flicking between the silver light and Gu Qing. He lowered his gaze slightly, secretly exhaling a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
In truth, he had long noticed Gu Qing conversing with a “person who doesn’t exist.” That natural familiarity had once made him think—perhaps it was some special entity, or a past he could not reach.
Now he understood. It was simply a small being, childlike, talkative, clingy, and pure.
For the first time in a long while, Milton felt a subtle ease settle over his heart.
He lifted his head and looked at Gu Qing again, eyes now brimming with warmth and resolve.
Stepping forward, he met Gu Qing’s gaze, voice calm yet resolute: “You shouldn’t carry all of this alone. I won’t let you bear everything like that Immortal, standing alone under all the burdens.”
Gu Qing paused, a half-smile teasing his lips: “Do you understand what that means? You’ll be drawn into the storm, targeted… you might even die.”
Milton did not flinch. He stepped closer, tone brimming with resolute responsibility: “I was born in this world and bear its pain and suffering. Not because you need me—but because I cannot stand by and do nothing.”
Those purple eyes, always cold as frost, now blazed with an unprecedented fire.
Gu Qing was silent for a moment, then extended his hand, palm up, a gesture both tentative and inviting.
“What you see is only the beginning.”
“The road ahead may be darker, more brutal than you imagine.”
Milton lowered his head, placing his hand over Gu Qing’s, voice deep yet unwavering: “I am not afraid.”
Side by side, they stood together. Starlight spilled through the hull, their clasped hands glowing in the shifting luminescence like a solemn vow—firm, profound, unbreakable.
Beside them, the little Heavenly Dao orb gently rolled in the air, silver light flickering softly, quietly keeping watch at their side.