Chapter 62
"Hmm..."
The male insect's long neck tensed, its feet on the ground curled up, and the slightly swaying hammock suddenly stopped.
Hill's medical equipment fell into the water when the treehouse was destroyed. Bright will organize a team to retrieve all the items he used. Female insects will be considered criminals if they search for the items he used on their own.
Hill had not relieved himself in the past day, and even when sitting, his abdomen was slightly swollen.
Celt's hands were so hot that Hill wanted to back away as soon as they touched him, but the female insect forcefully enveloped him, and the only way he could retreat was into her arms.
Hill's Adam's apple bobbed, but his eyes remained cold: "Isn't it because the Marshal needs pheromones?"
After a long and brutal battle, he urgently needed to ingest male insect pheromones to help stabilize his emotions. This was not necessary, but having male insect pheromones would help stabilize his mind and maintain a better state.
"Marshal, didn't someone tell you that seeking insects requires the proper attitude?" Hill stepped back, his expression cold.
The female insect's manual stipulates that when requesting a male's pheromones, she should maintain a standard kneeling posture, pleading and flattering, and only move after receiving the male's permission.
“No,” Celtic unexpectedly retorted, “I just want you to be comfortable.”
But before Hill could speak, he abruptly stepped back, solemnly knelt on one knee, and looked up at Hill, his cold, gray eyes filled with invading desire.
Hill sat in the hammock, with a flawless full moon behind him. The full moon and the male insect filled Celt's eyes, making it almost impossible to see any ambition or scheming within them.
There was only one insect, Hill.
Hill's grip on the hammock tightened inch by inch, but a slow smile crept onto his lips. How well he disguised it.
Hill let go, and the insect, overwhelmed by sensory overload, lay supine in the hammock. The man-made satellite was right next to him, and countless stars fell into his unfocused eyes.
Fine beads of sweat dripped from his nose and forehead, and his long silver hair spread across the bed. He felt a rare warmth in this cold night.
It's very deep and comfortable. Compared to cold instruments that cause a stinging sensation, the female insect's temperature is much gentler and more palatable.
Celt's skills were extremely proficient, and it wasn't just his palms that were burning hot. He seemed to be born to do everything to the best of his ability. When he was young, he studied at the Imperial Military Academy, and even his courses on cooking and serving the lord were rated S.
At this moment, Hill suddenly thought of something for no apparent reason.
Marshal Celtic was an absolute efficiency man. He was once very satisfied with Hill's desire for him, as he could be used with just a little stimulation of his pheromones. Hill was once worried that if he was too tired to get up immediately, it would displease the Marshal.
Now, a long time has passed, and despite Celt's meticulous care, he remains limp.
He wasn't disliked; instead, he was treated with even more care.
It wasn't because Celt would feel sorry for him, but simply because he was Hilgard, the noble prince of His Majesty the Insect Emperor.
To achieve his goal, the female insect will stop at nothing, disregarding the life of a young male and his ridiculous dignity.
Hill wanted to laugh, but felt a blockage in his heart, unable to laugh out loud with a mocking tone. It was a piercing hatred, like a flame scorching his heart.
Celtic is such a power-hungry, ruthless, and profit-driven worm. He is not worth your utmost effort, and he has no sincerity towards you whatsoever.
He doesn't deserve it.
His heart was so cold, yet his body was slowly warming up, a slow but undeniable fluctuation.
Most importantly, he was a 3S female insect, he was a Celt. Perhaps it was the intense hatred that drove him, or perhaps the pheromone intensity of 3S female insects really was different, but Hill had a slight feeling about it.
Even though it was so faint.
"Hmm..." the male insect hummed softly, its voice low and weak, as if it was suppressing its emotions and unwilling to reveal them, or as if it was naturally weak and its breath was not very strong.
It was incredibly difficult, he couldn't find his footing. Cold sweat trickled down his back. Every time, he would recall those nightmarish two weeks, the times he was forbidden, restricted, and tormented...
His feet were cold on the ground. Large, hot hands grasped his ankles, placed his feet on his knees, and then moved inch by inch to hold his knees, transferring warmth to him.
Six years ago, in the primeval forest of Nuka, Celt held his knees, which were curled up due to growing pains, in the same way.
"......."
The stars were silent. Hill bit his lip tightly to keep his voice from escaping, and his waist trembled slightly.
The sound of dripping water echoed in the tranquil forest, like a stagnant river, flowing slowly and unevenly.
Hill stared blankly at the sky, and for a moment he felt as if he had returned to Nuka, a planet of infinite tranquility and infinite safety.
It's all fake, completely fake.
Hill lowered his eyes and looked coldly at the kneeling female insect, a strong malice rising in his eyes: "Look at yourself now, do you need to beg for mercy from something like this? Hmm? Marshal?"
Where is your dignity? Where is your pride? Where is your superior attitude towards Xiao Xiongchong? Where has it all gone? Are you just going to be so subservient?
Celtic raised a hand to wipe his mouth, but the wetness wasn't just on his sharp jaw; it trickled down his hand bones.
He looked at Hill calmly, without any humility, only possessiveness. If it weren't for his hoarse voice from prolonged use, no one would have known what he had done.
"Because it's you."
So I don't think there's anything wrong with it. I would only feel pain if other female insects did this for me.
He spoke so earnestly, as if he truly believed it.
Celtic took off his wet uniform, stood up, and lifted Hill from the hammock.
“There’s a natural hot spring fifty meters away. I’ll carry you there.” His words were brief and calm, only the strong pheromones emanating from his body betrayed his true feelings.
This is a small hot spring. Celt had considered the cleaning issue when he chose this place. The water is not very deep and the temperature is not very hot. Celt carried him into the water. His feet were first submerged in the warm water, followed by the cold hem of his clothes and his floating long hair.
He was very tired, and after being relieved, he was enveloped by the gentle flow of water. His eyelids gradually closed, and he fell into a long sleep.
Celtic held him until his entire body was warmed by the hot spring.
Generally, Zerg have a high body temperature, especially females. Males have a lower body temperature, but when enveloped in warmth, their blood circulation increases and they heat up quickly. Hill's body needs to be completely enveloped by the hot spring to slowly warm up.
His health was too poor, and he was almost at his limit. He didn't have time, so the selection of the female ruler was used to force him to make a choice.
Celt pulled his arms closer, bringing the fragile male insect even closer to his heart.
After a long silence, the cold and tough insect slowly lowered its head and awkwardly kissed Hill's forehead.
They only touched each other lightly with their lips, seemingly afraid of waking the male insect, but did not separate for a long time.
Hill's brows were furrowed in his sleep, as if shrouded in an unresolved sorrow.
Hill did not sleep well; physical pain and psychological anxiety usually meant he could only sleep for three or four hours, and this time was no exception.
At first, he was not fully conscious. He heard a rustling sound, as if the wind was blowing through the leaves, followed by the sound of slowly flowing water, the chirping of insects, and a faint scent of pine.
It helps with sleep.
His sleep was so bad that medication would have side effects on his hard-won stable condition. Both Sirius and his female father had arranged for him to use professional sleep aids.
The effect was mediocre; instead, it plunged him into an extreme predicament where he couldn't sleep, making him even more miserable. Later, he refused to let any insects enter his private insect domain.
But this time was different. The sleep aid had a faint smell of gunpowder. He didn't know if it was the 3S-level pheromones at work or because of his dependence on the smell of gunpowder that had started six years ago.
He drifted off to sleep once again, a rare occurrence for him.
When he woke up again, there was already a hazy light on the horizon. He felt it was a bit too bright and raised his hand to shield his eyes, but insects were already blocking the light for him.
It took him a while to adjust before he noticed the faint glow of a flame not far away, with pine cones and some unidentified herbs in the flame.
Even though Celt was an S-rank in plant recognition courses, he was still able to quickly find sleep aids in the jungle on this strange planet where no prohibited items were allowed.
Knowing he wouldn't sleep well, how thoughtful! Any insect would be touched, right?
Oh.
Hill tried to get up, but a strong arm reached out from the side to help him sit up. Once he sat up, he noticed that Hill was wearing a Celtic military uniform. The female insects participating in the competition had two sets of uniforms to switch between. One set was soiled by Hill, and the other was covering Hill. It also had the pheromones of gunpowder smoke, like some kind of highly intimidating mark.
"So the Marshal is kind to insectoid humans? I thought you weren't."
Hill said with a faint sarcasm.
"Because I am Hilgard?"
So I'm only worthy of the arrogant Marshal Celtic's overtures?
Celtic sat to the side, his posture exuding dominance, as if he could pull Hill into his arms at any moment.
His deep-set features gleamed under the deep lines, and flames seemed to flicker in his cold, grey eyes: "Because you are Hill."
His prominent Adam's apple bobbed: "I just suddenly realized that not expressing my feelings is tantamount to being useless."
Hill watched him quietly, waiting for his next words; he had a vague premonition.
Celtic knelt down, a standard proposal ceremony, impeccably so, with his defiant eyes and submissive posture, his medal of honor trampled under Hill's feet.
"I love you."
Six years have passed, six months of selfless dedication, and six months of meticulous planning.
At this moment, the answer was finally obtained.
He heard Celtic say the word "love" to him. He had waited for so long, and had once thought there was no hope in this life.
He captured Celt, and even if not sincerely, he gained his submission.
Hill thought he would laugh with glee, but before that, a silent pain and intense emotion surged up, almost making Hill feel so grief-stricken that he couldn't utter a sound.
No, you love Hilgard, you love the identity of becoming the Insect Emperor, all to fulfill your ambitions.
You lied to me again. I will never be lied to by you again.
"Even if I were a male insect unable to perform insect-pathing, a cripple, would you still be willing?"
The question that had once been asked of Albert was once again posed to Celtic, the male insect's voice carrying a hint of seduction and mockery as it awaited his answer.
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