Chapter 146 Chapter 146: Believe "Of course, my majesty...
This story is long, but it only takes a blink of an eye.
After that dream ended, Xirui spent some time in a state of disarray and his entire mental state was not right.
That period happened to be the window period for project handover, and everyone was relatively free.
Xu Wen, who was sitting next to Xirui, obviously noticed Xirui's depression. He racked his brains but failed to cheer him up, so he suggested that they relax and go to Mr. Jin's villa for a home party.
What happened next was that by some strange coincidence, he came to the Zerg again.
But what Xirui didn't know was.
Atalan hadn't died that year, and the battle was indeed intense, but he was not completely without a chance of winning—not to mention that Cerie was still waiting for him in the 25th star system.
Taking advantage of the fact that the Orthodox Army had withdrawn some of its combat power for some unknown reason, the rebel army led by Atalan captured several important planets with great momentum, attacking the Orthodox Army from the inside out.
Completely opened the empire's iron wall.
——But Atalan didn't find Cerie.
The garrison of the 25th galaxy said that Cerie had rebelled and surrendered to the enemy before the war, and deserved to be put to death.
They said that Cerie's whereabouts are unknown and she has disappeared. She may have run away because she saw the situation was not good.
Their words were so unanimous, some died, and the war turned former warriors into cowardly cowards.
Only after you get used to seeing life and death will you become more afraid of it.
After that, Atalan never saw Cerie again.
From then on, Atalan took over all thirty-seven star systems and became a true king.
Golden flags were planted on the walls of the empire, and golden irises bloomed on the land of the empire.
Amidst congratulations from all directions, Atalan put on the crown, walked up to the throne, and held the cold scepter.
In the following twenty-five years,
The king is filled with loneliness and his shoulders are covered with wind and frost.
Looking back, there are endless tombstones in the heroes' cemetery, some dead and some injured, cold and resolute.
The light of His Majesty the Insect Emperor is like the scorching sun, enveloping the entire empire in a gilded glow.
His authority is sharper than steel forged a thousand times.
The people of the empire looked up to him as if they were following the trajectory of the sun - he must be a golden god who never falls, the pillar supporting the dome of the empire.
But in desolation, the king on the throne will lower his eyelashes.
The face praised by countless poets now looked like a faded gold foil painting, with even the subtlest expression stripped away.
Hollow.
dull pain.
Only when gazing at the twenty-fifth galaxy in the night, could one glimpse an almost imperceptible crack deep in those golden eyes—a crack deep in the soul, pressed by intense pain.
Fatigue is like a cancer attached to the bone, spreading through the blood with every heartbeat.
The pain that accumulated twenty-five years ago solidified into a wound on the left side of the chest that will never scab over.
Even though the golden sword exudes a molten gold-like luster, there is always a flaw at the blade's edge—that's where the heart is.
The king's eyes held the weight of the entire empire, yet they were as empty as the empire's winter wasteland.
The shadow cast by the golden eyelashes just happened to cover up the fleeting fragility in the king's eyes.
It seemed as if half of his soul had been taken away. Twenty-five years ago, Atalan knew what he had lost.
All the tiredness is like aged wine soaked in time. The longer it settles, the more bitter it becomes.
Every time I look at the twenty-five galaxies in the night sky, I seem to be drawn to it—that is a regret that was imposed on me earlier than the crown.
Today, the empire's territory is as vast as the galaxy, but Atalan's soul is still trapped in that small place.
He was trapped in that night twenty-five years ago.
Never left.
Like a phoenix pacing in a golden cage, its gorgeous tail feathers swept across the panicked blood on the ground, over and over again.
Ever since Cerie left, the nights in Atalan had become far too long.
The dream was shattered, and when I woke up, I was left with only deeper fatigue and loneliness.
Later, the name "Lanta" completely disappeared in the dust of history, Atalan put on the heavy imperial robe and ascended the supreme throne.
He knew that he could no longer turn back and could only continue on this lonely road until the end of his life.
He has no companions, only ministers.
He has no relatives, only deceased friends.
He stood alone among thousands of tombstones.
He is the King.
It is also the "Lanta" left behind by Cerie.
Will Cerie come back?
Atalan had asked himself this question for twenty-five years.
At this moment, he finally got the answer.
——
The royal court's lounge,
Immersed in the thick night, the heavy velvet curtains block out the moonlight, casting a swaying dark silver in the darkness.
Atalan curled up in Xirui's arms, like a sword finally sheathed.
"Cerie."
His figure was still slender, but at this moment he showed a kind of fatigue that was almost fragile. His long golden hair was scattered on Xirui's arms, like molten gold flowing in the night.
The king's forehead rested on Xirui's shoulder.
The body temperature of the black-haired male insect came through the clothes, mixed with the scent of ebony and agarwood, wrapping Atalan layer by layer.
This smell reminded Atalan of the blankets they shared during the years of escape, the canned food they shared on the front lines, and the backs they leaned against each other when they were on the verge of life and death countless times.
Atalan wanted to say something, but his Adam's apple rolled and he could only remain silent.
Instead, Xirui's arms tightened a little, and his calloused palms covered the back of the king's neck, as if comforting a wounded golden feline.
"Ranta, that's all in the past. I'm back now. I'm back with you."
"fraud."
Atalan suddenly opened his mouth and bit Xirui's shoulder, and his canine teeth rubbed the male insect's flesh through the thin shirt.
As if to confirm that this was not an illusion.
Like a cat, it bites pretty hard.
Xirui groaned, but indulged him in letting him vent, inserting his fingers into the shiny golden hair and gently massaging his scalp.
"I'm here." Xirui's voice shook his chest. "I won't leave again."
Atalan loosened his teeth and lowered his eyes to look at the wet teeth marks left on the black-haired male insect's snow-white shirt.
The night wind blows the curtains, the night is so gentle.
In the darkness, Xirui felt warm liquid seeping into his shirt.
He bent down and kissed the top of the king's head, and tasted the barely perceptible scent of golden irises beyond the power and coldness.
"Cerie, I will kill Link—he deserves death."
Atalan's voice was low and cold. He leaned against Xirui's chest, his long golden hair scattered, and his gilded amber eyes burned with almost violent anger.
"How dare he... Such a thing? It's enough to kill him ten thousand times."
"good."
Xirui chuckled softly, and gently combed Atalan's long hair with his slender fingers. His movements were as gentle as if he was soothing a restless warhorse.
"He certainly deserved to die, and it wasn't an easy death."
Of course Link deserved to die.
Whoever benefits will be more motivated.
In that incident back then, the one who benefited the most was naturally Link.
Xirui doesn't like cowardice. When it comes to taking action, he will never hesitate.
During the twenty-five years that he and Ranta had been separated, the guy who had plotted against him in the past had to pay for it with his blood and life.
"Not just him,"
Atalan's voice trembled slightly with suppressed anger.
"All those who participated in the lie back then, all those who are still on Link's side, I will make them pay the price."
The king's fingers unconsciously clenched Xirui's clothes, and his knuckles turned white.
Atalan hated it.
It is impossible for him not to hate, and he cannot do it.
Atalan waited in despair for twenty-five years.
But he was even more heartbroken because Cerie had died once before, 25 years ago. How much pain must Cerie have felt at that time.
Xirui's fingertips gently stroked the back of his neck, touching the golden irises on the pale skin - that was Atalan's sensitive insect pattern.
The male insect's fingertips stroked the slightly raised lines, his voice low and firm:
"Of course, my Lord."
Silence stretched between the two for a moment, and Atalan suddenly grabbed Xirui's hand and slowly pressed it on his flat abdomen.
His fingertips trembled slightly, but with an irresistible force.
"Cerie, there's something I haven't told you." Atalan's voice was very light, like a feather floating in the air.
There was thin texture under his palm, and Xirui could clearly feel the flesh and blood under that layer of skin.
Atalan lowered his eyes, his golden eyelashes casting shadows on his pale face: "I am now infertile."
This sentence slowly cut through the last barrier between the two.
Atalan's Adam's apple rolled, and he continued, "Perhaps I am very different from what you imagined."
He raised his eyes and looked directly into Xirui's dark pupils, "We have been apart for so long, I have changed so much."
Xirui felt the muscles under his palms twitching slightly, and Atalan's voice became softer and softer:
"Cerie, if you are still immersed in your past impression of me..."
He paused, a forced smile forming at the corner of his mouth. "I'm scared. If you see me clearly later... you might as well tell me now."
Xirui paused, sat up suddenly, and hugged Atalan in his arms.
The large palm covered the thin abdomen, kneading it gently but firmly, as if trying to smooth out all the scars with body temperature.
"Ranta, you have to know,"
Xirui's voice was extremely hoarse.
"The you I love is never the one I imagined you to be."
His palms pressed against Atalan's skin, transmitting a constant flow of heat.
"I love the real you, the true you."
The black-haired male insect lowered his head, his eyes so gentle that they seemed to melt countless nights.
He kissed Atalan's forehead gently:
"I loved you 25 years ago, and I still love you now. No matter what you become, you will always be my Ranta."
"Perhaps, I should have told you earlier."
Hearing this, Atalan's body trembled slightly in Xirui's arms, as if he had finally let down all his defenses.
Xirui felt the warm liquid soaking through his clothes. He tightened his arms and kissed his lover on the top of his head:
"Trust me, okay?"
The scent of ebony and agarwood wrapped silently, and in this quiet night, two hearts that had been wandering for a long time finally found their home.
Atalan nodded slightly in the male insect's arms, his golden hair brushing against Xirui's chin.
Twenty-five years have left too many marks on his body, and each scar represents a lonely battle that no one knows about.
Xirui suddenly buried his face in Atalan's neck, and his warm breath sprayed on the jade-white skin.
"I'm sorry..." Xirui's voice was muffled, "I should have been by your side."
The next second, Atalan blinked, raised his hand, hesitated for a moment, and finally touched Xirui's black hair.
"Don't feel that way, Cerie. It's not your fault."
Outside the window, the darkness before dawn is fading.
Xirui raised his head and stared at Atalan's face in the morning light - the fine lines and the golden eyes that were no longer as bright and vivid as they used to be.
This was the person he loved, not the high-spirited young leader in his memory, but a scarred but still proud king.
He has the sharpness of a person in power, but he also has the same sincere heart as before.
"If that's the case, let me get to know you again."
Xirui held Atalan's hand, interlocking their fingers.
"Every day, every night, every breath."
His lips touched those pale fingertips,
"I will love everything about you, including the parts of you that make you feel like you're not good enough."
Hearing this, Atalan's breathing became disordered.
The high wall he had built over the past twenty-five years collapsed at this moment, and he suddenly realized that he had been waiting completely willingly for the past twenty-five years.
Because when I was young, I met someone so amazing.
Not to mention twenty-five years, even if it were longer, Atalan would wait.
Because I have truly loved and been loved, I cannot tolerate any compromise, any replacement, or anything else.
Love is love.
Cerie is Cerie.
The morning light shines through the gauze curtains, giving the two of them a soft golden edge.
Xirui heard Atalan say very softly:
"I love you... a lot, too."
"I really love it."
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