Chapter 52
The torrential rain made the sky even darker, and in the stark contrast, the fire in the stove inside the house glowed red like flowing blood, while the delicate teapot bubbled and bubbled.
"General, are we really not going to rescue Albert?" Brandon gazed into the pouring rain.
"Do you really want another female insect to take away the already limited time of the male?" Hesen leaned against the window and sipped his black tea, his voice as gentle as the tea.
“No…” Brandon instinctively objected, but no female insect agreed. He then lowered his head somewhat embarrassedly: “Albert is, after all, the son of the Federation Speaker. This could very well lead to a breakdown in relations between the Federation and the Empire…”
This will once again plunge the empire into the abyss of war.
“Isn’t this a good thing?” Hessen chuckled, his every move exuding the nonchalance of a nobleman. “Celt killed Albert, so this mess will inevitably fall into his hands, trapping him in the quagmire of war, which will make it easier for us to take action, won’t it?”
“I just thought Albert might be of some use and could inflict some injury on Celtic,” Hessen shook his head regretfully. “What a pity, a useless bug.”
“Beep—” Brandon listened intently, then suddenly looked up. “General, Albert has a backup plan. The message he sent was encrypted using the Federation’s encryption mechanism, which we cannot decipher.”
“Then contact the Federation and offer a price. There will always be bugs willing to decipher it. I’m also very curious about the extent of Hilgard’s illness and how much longer he can live.”
If the Zerg's advancement goes smoothly, all is well; but if problems arise, it will be a devastating blow. Covering up the truth cannot conceal the seriousness of the situation.
A glint of malice flashed in Hessen's eyes as he placed the black tea on an elegant tray, glancing at the time one last time: "With Albert dead, this place will soon be engulfed in war. I'll go awaken the Lord. Are the evacuation aircraft ready?"
Brandon bowed his head: "Everything is ready."
Hesen pushed open the door, and lights came on one by one, surrounding the male insect on the bed with long, golden hair as dazzling as the sun.
He walked over step by step and kissed the back of the male insect's hand: "Master—"
——
Sirius leaned against the balcony, casually loosening his collar: "Isidore, can't you understand?"
The female insect opposite him had short, black hair, a handsome face, and a high nose. Most noticeable was a thorny scar on her neck that had not been removed despite the insectoids' highly advanced medical system. She remained bowed and said, "Your Highness, I cannot enter without the Marshal's order."
The orders of a powerful ruler are supreme, except for those of the military.
Sirius sneered coldly: "You've already violated military orders by leaving the camp without permission. What are you saying now that you've already committed a crime?"
The female insect opposite him paused slightly, but still kept her head down: "I thought your life was in danger. I can bear all the consequences, but I cannot offend the Marshal's authority."
"You will not receive any pheromones in the coming year."
Isidore bowed even more deeply, as if in remorse, and respectfully said, "Yes, Your Highness, this is the punishment I deserve."
The female insect's words were interrupted, and Sirius threw the quantum computer away. He was so angry that his chest heaved, and he slumped into a chair, pressed his furrowed brow, and let out a heavy sigh.
Hill is right. Female insects may seem to be very obedient to male insects, but they will only show their true colors when their core interests are involved.
Celtic, it's Celtic again.
Due to their degenerated and fragile physical condition, male insects find it difficult to extend their tentacles deep into the military headquarters. The military headquarters is entirely Celtic's domain, and even female insects like Hesen, who come from noble families, are completely suppressed by Celtic.
What kind of crime would it take to bring Celtic down from that position?
The torrential rain had not yet stopped. The sickly male insect sat on a tattered wicker chair in the sunlight. Rainwater occasionally blew by the gale, wetting the hem of his robe and sliding down his slightly protruding ankles.
His pupils were extremely pale, as if he were looking at the dark clouds gathering in the sky, or as if he wasn't looking at anything at all.
Suddenly, a bolt of lightning cleaved through the dark, torrential rain, and the jet-black bone wings sharply tore open a sliver of sky, revealing the incomparably powerful figure of the female insect within. With a flap of her enormous, ferocious bone wings, she landed on the manor's balcony in an instant.
Aside from his bone wings, which have completely degenerated to their normal state, only his eyes still retain a metallic coldness, like a meticulously crafted mecha, perfectly fitted, with a rich bloody aura washed over by its smooth lines.
He approached Hill step by step, his powerful figure completely obscuring the sky, with lightning flashing behind him. He placed a shattered insect core into Hill's palm.
There was still blood left on the insect core, and Celt's hot palm and the insect core also radiated warmth as it landed in Hill's cold palm.
Hill's indifferent gaze lingered on the insect core. It is said that the cruelest way to kill an insect is to cut out its core while it is still alive, so that one can feel the pain of a non-insect.
This was the first time he had ever seen the core of a dead insect. The female insect that had been crawling at his feet, looking at him with astonishment and even disdain, was now just a core for other insects to play with.
Yes, he was certain that the moment Albert learned he was taking care of his stomach, that female insect's eyes flashed with contempt.
Hill lowered his eyes. Yes, male insects that cannot provide value are trash and will be abandoned by all insects.
He seemed to be in a daze.
Celtic's heart sank. His large, hot palm enveloped Hill's cold hand and held it tightly, forcefully imprisoning him in his own palm, and together they held Albert's insect core.
"Does Albert really move you so much? Make you so sad?" Perhaps even Celtic himself didn't realize how bitter and jealous his tone was when he said those words, and how vivid his emotions were.
He demanded that Hill see Albert's true face, and because Hill was genuinely hurt, he experienced extreme anguish that drove him to want to retrieve Albert's body and tear it to pieces.
“Your Highness, your betrothed has died.” Celt supported himself on Hill with his other arm, his eyes still fixed on his bestial form, retaining the distinct possessiveness of a beast.
His voice was deep and somber, like a death knell tolling in Hill's ears.
Hildegard's fiancé died tragically, bringing the marriage to an end.
He suddenly pulled back and lifted the male insect around the waist, one hand around his knee and the other around his back, then clasped his hands in front of him, unwilling to let go.
"Now, I will take you back to the Empire."
I was ordered to escort you here for the marriage alliance. Now that the engagement is dissolved, I will personally take you back to the Empire.
If the marriage partner dies, the marriage automatically ends, and Hilgard will not need to marry any more insects.
Hilgard let Celt hold his hand, tilted his head slightly to meet Celt's gaze, revealing his slender and delicate neck. From his angle, he could see Celt's sharp jaw. His features were deep and sharp, every inch revealing a calm and ruthless undertone.
It's hard to imagine that he would do something so contrary to his interests.
Suddenly, cold fingers rose up, like icy streams in the height of summer, or like vines, and slowly brushed across Celt's face.
"This is the first one; there will be more in the future."
The male insect's voice was low, seemingly containing a hint of cold laughter.
"Male insects will always mate."
According to the laws of the empire, he could marry one female ruler and three female servants. If he did not marry by a certain age, he would be forced to be matched by the system. This was the law of survival in the insectoid society, and even he, as the male son of the insect emperor, was no exception.
The torrential rain continued to fall, but Celt's bone wings, like a sharp knife, cleaved through the rain, preventing any rain from falling on Hill. Celt's body heat subtly warmed Hill.
At Celt's speed, they would arrive at the starship in five minutes. During those five minutes, there would only be the two of them, insects. The torrential rain shielded them from everything; no insects would spy on them or listen to them.
"Marshal, can you kill them all?"
With so many females who are eager to mate with male Zerg, you might be able to kill Albert, but can you kill an endless number of females?
Even if you are a Celt, even if you are the strongest female insect in the Empire right now.
"Why not?" Another thunderbolt struck, making Celt's eyes appear even more sinister. His cold, gray eyes were filled with a chilling killing intent, and every inch of his features was taut in the darkness.
The veins on the back of Hill's hand bulged out in a terrifying display, and he spoke with such calm and certainty that it was not a serious crime that could send him to trial.
Hill's heart tightened slightly as he looked at Celt as if he were watching a wild beast slowly walk into a cage.
Any female insect who witnessed this moment in Celt would not be surprised if any insect dared to court Hill, and he would continue to kill until no insect dared to approach this male insect.
Hill smelled the strong stench of gunpowder and blood, and he teetered on the edge of losing control.
Hill suddenly laughed, his cold fingertips slowly drooping, filled with self-loathing and mockery: "So what if I could kill them all? I can't do it, Marshal. If any insect discovers my secret, I will be the one who dies in the end."
He calmly revealed his secret, a calmness that overflowed with self-destructive despair. Perhaps raindrops fell into his eyes, making his azure eyes slightly moist.
Such a beautiful yet fragile male insect is enough to make any female insect soften her heart and be moved.
“No insect can endure the fate of dying alone without pheromones, not even Albert, who keeps saying he loves me,” he said with a cold sneer. “All female insects are the same…”
“No worthless male insects will be sent to the gallows.” Clear tears slid down his pale cheeks.
Celtic gripped his hand, offering him unprecedented support and warmth. The altitude gradually increased, and at the end of the rain curtain lay a clear, expansive sky, from which one could look down upon the clouds and the raging storm.
“No insect can harm you.” He pressed Hill’s hand against his chest, beneath which lay a vibrant heart.
No insect can harm a male insect under Celt's protection—a proud promise that no insect can question.
He is Celtic, and he can do it.
Hill's heart was slowly contracting, a thin, dense net pressed against his palm as he patiently waited to capture the beast and achieve his goal.
Even if I can't do it?
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