Chapter 71
The light in Baxter's eyes gradually faded, and Celtic withdrew his hand, throwing him into the dark prison as if he were discarding disgusting garbage.
The collar that detects the female insect's vital signs sounds an alarm, and the footsteps of the female insect rush over.
"Marshal—" Major General Gust opened the prison door and stared in astonishment at the lifeless corpse on the ground.
Celt walked step by step toward the interrogation room, turned on the tap, and the rushing water washed away the bloodstains on his hands.
"He lost control of his mental state and committed suicide out of fear of punishment."
He calmly rewrote the method of death for the insect that should have been hanged.
After a brief moment of surprise, Gust immediately obeyed the order and began to fabricate the scene—it was clear that the female insect could not have strangled herself.
“Baxter is dead?” In a distant galaxy, Hessen suddenly stopped reviewing official documents.
“Yes,” Brandon said in a low voice, “just two weeks ago.”
"He contacted us wanting to trade a message, but before our insect could operate, we received his death report. According to the case report, he died from a mental breakdown, but Marshal Celt personally executed him, so I suspect he died at the hands of Marshal Celt."
"The Marshal always moves so quickly, leaving the insects no opportunity to strike," Hessen said in a gentle tone, seemingly in submission, but a hint of gloom appeared in his eyes. "Has the message left by Albert been deciphered?"
"Not yet, but we have some leads."
“This is too slow. At this rate, the battle for the Insect Emperor will be over soon,” Hessen sighed, and made a decision. “Let’s go directly to Speaker Wilson.”
“But the Federation and the Empire are currently at odds, General. If this is discovered, it will be considered treason.” Brandon hesitated.
"The charge of treason against a major general or above will be judged by His Majesty the Insect Emperor. As long as we win the battle for the Insect Emperor, no insect can convict us of treason." Hesen spoke gently, clasping his hands together in front of him and leaning back slightly.
“I have a feeling something’s off about Hilgard,” Hessen mused. “Where are he going with Marshal Celtic?”
“Nuka Star.” Brandon kept a close eye on Hilgard’s movements. “Marshal Celt has submitted a twenty-day leave application to the military to spend time with His Highness Hilgard.”
"Twenty days..." Hesen frowned slightly, a faint glint in his eyes. "Just in time to get through a period of aging? What a coincidence."
Regardless of external doubts or blessings, Celt and Hill have already boarded the warship bound for Nuka.
Hill was in poor physical condition and his body couldn't handle crossing the barrier directly. However, traveling at a normal speed would slow down the progress. In the end, Hill decided to make the crossing himself.
In response to Sirius's concerns, he replied, "Sometimes life needs a bit of adventure, doesn't it?"
He was utterly fed up with this life; whether he lived or died, he just wanted an end to it all.
Celtic stayed by his side the whole time. After boarding the warship, they immediately entered the nutrient tank and carried out a space crossing under its protection.
"Your Highness, take a nap. Everything will be alright when you wake up." The female insect's large, hot palm covered his eyelids, her voice firm as if promising. Soon he was enveloped in peaceful darkness.
When he woke up again, the first thing he heard was the howling wind. After his mind adjusted for a while, Celt spoke: "We have arrived at Nuka Star, Your Highness. Would you like to open your eyes and take a look?"
"It's a bit high, if you're not afraid."
Only after receiving Hill's permission did Celt remove his hand from his face. Large swathes of sunlight poured down on him, causing Hill to close his eyes at first, before slowly opening them again after a long while.
Nuka is a habitable planet with beautiful scenery and fresh air, but since the infestation of alien beasts six years ago, most of the Zerg residents here have moved away or relocated to Zerg-populated areas.
Celtic did not take him to the bustling gathering area; instead, he took him back to the primeval forest.
From the air, this place appears deep and tranquil, with agile and nimble large animals occasionally traversing the forest. Towering trees and lakes of different seasons and climates are like pearls scattered in the sea of forest.
Along the edge of the lake, you can vaguely see houses with different styles, decorations, and designs, yet each one reflects the unique characteristics of the lake.
“I didn’t know what kind you liked, so I had to design each one.” Celtic’s voice rang out at the opportune moment.
He knew too little about Hill, and Hillgard revealed too little to the outside world, so little that he couldn't even find a basis to wish him happiness.
Hill's lips curled into a faint, sarcastic smile: "That's because you don't care."
“I was before,” Celt did not evade the question, but readily admitted his mistake. “I will correct my mistakes in the future. If necessary, Your Highness may allow me to submit a five-thousand-word letter of apology. Please give me a chance to correct my mistakes, okay?”
As they spoke, the flight altitude had decreased, and by observing Hill's gaze, Celtic chose a wooden house to land in.
His words seemed to carry a deeper meaning: a chance to make amends? Did he mean the current problem, or did he mean giving him another chance?
Hill didn't think deeply about it. Celtic didn't put him down, but instead carried him into the primitive wooden house standing on the water. The long corridor stretched into the middle of the lake, and if you walked up the corridor, you could see the fish leaping under the corridor.
This was a truly primitive wooden cabin without any interstellar technology. Celt held Hill in one arm and pushed open the door with the other. Inside, there was simple furniture, clean, tidy, and soft.
"Hill, this is our future home."
Even if it's brief and full of deception, it's still just our home.
At that moment, perhaps because the sound of the surging lake was so intense, Hill almost detected a hint of deep affection in Celtic's voice.
It just seems so.
Entering an unfamiliar environment requires checking Hill's body, administering medication, and then feeding him. Hill's daily mealtimes are fixed, and even a slight delay could cause his body to malfunction.
After all this was done, the satellite created by the insects had already risen. Hill, wearing only a soft white robe, quietly looked at the wooden planks of the dome.
He didn't know how other male insects with fiancés received service or how they spent the day, but as he leaned against Celt's chest, his hands unconsciously clenched together, and a trace of fear arose within him.
"What if I still can't do it?"
I still can't react like a normal male insect should, I can't secrete male pheromones, and I can't advance in my sexual career. What should I do?
His voice was unusually hoarse and confused. He had done everything he could. He had captured Celt, a 3S female insect, as an aid. Now, all that was left was to fate. A sense of powerlessness that he could not control almost overwhelmed him.
His heart was beating so fast.
"Your Highness, don't be afraid, leave everything to me, okay?" A warm hand covered his eyes once again, and Hill closed his eyes accordingly.
Yes, Celtic is here. If he fails, shouldn't Celtic be the one worried? He'll take Celtic with him to die, so at least he won't be too lonely.
A pristine white cloth was draped over his eyes. He felt his hair being gently parted, hot fingers caressing his roots, skillfully trimmed fingertips combing his long hair, kissing his roots—it was so hot…
The absolute darkness made all the tactile sensations so clear, including the slight tremor of kissing his hair.
No, it wasn't absolute darkness. What he couldn't see was a transparent white, making him realize that he wasn't in complete darkness but rather enveloped by light.
He couldn't see anything in front of him, his heart was pounding, he was scared, and his breathing became rapid.
No matter how well he disguises himself, at his core he is still just an inexperienced young male insect.
At that moment, Celtic grasped his hand, interlocking their fingers and holding it tightly. The rich pheromones of gunpowder spread out, and in this environment where nothing could be seen, being enveloped by the familiar pheromones finally made him feel a long-lost sense of security.
His thin robe was parted, and a burning hot hand grasped the back of his knee, forcing him to separate it without giving him a chance to refuse.
The male insect's mouth opened slightly, as if it could not bear it. It subconsciously stretched out its slender hand as if to block or cover it, but its outstretched five fingers were grasped and intertwined in front of its body by another hand.
No exposure, whether concealed or not, is permitted.
No matter how docile he may seem, in this matter, Celtic still acts like a general in control, dictating the pace.
Aggressively squeezing between his fingertips, he pressed his hand firmly between his bones.
That was Marshal Celtic's hand...
No, that's not right. The marshal's hand was clearly still holding his other hand, gripping his separated knees, and playing with his loose hair. How could their fingers still be intertwined?
The pale male insect's eyelashes trembled violently, as if it had finally realized something. Its pupils widened suddenly, and its lips trembled as it opened, letting out an unbearable groan before it could speak.
As the insect approached the inside of his parted knees, he felt its firm nose brush against him, an intimate rubbing, before gently placing a kiss on his lips.
It was so secluded that no insect had ever touched it before, and the mere kiss was enough to make the young male insect tremble.
He didn't even need to touch her; the mere breath from the female insect's nostrils was enough to make him feel a burning heat, and he couldn't help but want to close up. But he couldn't, as Celt held his knee firmly, preventing him from closing up.
Unable to see, his imagination took over his mind; he could almost picture the female insect's cold, gray eyes sweeping aggressively over his body inch by inch.
He had everything laid bare, and no secret could be concealed.
Including his soft spot, his knee, which he tried to struggle but was held firmly...
The intense heat fell in varying degrees, moist and scalding, making his insteps tense and tremble slightly.
But the burning heat continued to rise inch by inch. His hands were gripped, his body was pinned down, and he was unable to offer any effective resistance, until... until...
"No......"
His pale lips parted, and before the male insect could speak, the female insect kissed him, taking all his breath away and swallowing up any remaining words, leaving only a dense kiss that left the insect breathless.
No, no, Marshal Celtic isn't...
Author's Note:
Finally, it's time for my favorite part! [starry eyes][starry eyes][starry eyes] What else would you like to see? [eating popcorn] I'm going to go all out!!! I've already come up with so many plays! [cat head][cat head][cat head]
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