"Hey, Love, long time no see. When did you get here?" Rick took a sip of black tea, forcing a smile as he addressed Love.
"Don't worry, not today. I already know most of what you've been up to here," Love shot him a sharp glare, "including your little cohabitation with that slutty scorpion."
"Slutty scorpion?!" Anna bristled, leaping from her chair with hands on hips. "Who are you calling a slutty scorpion?!"
"You, obviously! You promised not to poach when we parted, you sneaky brat—I knew you couldn't be trusted!" Love mirrored her stance, though her frame was visibly smaller.
"Hmph, I never promised anything."
"You—"
Love's retort was cut off as a large hand clamped over her mouth from behind. Rick, red-faced, wrestled the flailing Love while wiping cold sweat from his brow. "Can we not argue here? Look, people are staring."
"Let them stare! The only one embarrassed should be this fake princess!" Love wrenched free, shouting indignantly.
"Fake princess?!" Anna's forehead vein throbbed, eyes blazing. "Rick, are you going to let this lunatic insult me in my own home? You're the sheriff now—throw her out!"
"How dare you!"
"Why wouldn't I dare?!"
"Can we... can we discuss this somewhere else?" Rick suddenly remembered the mansion Arthur had gifted him. "How about we check out my new place?"
"Fine. A change of scenery will let me argue in peace." Anna spotted Lady Catherine approaching and dragged Rick away.
"Bring it on!" Love defiantly looped her arm through Rick's other elbow.
Seeing this, Rick fled Palais Saint-Rosel with an arm in each girl's grasp.
Board ing an insect-drawn carriage, they arrived at Rick's new mansion.
"Whoa!"
Gaping at the luxurious manor—50 mu of land with a private garden—Rick swallowed hard, dumbstruck. "T-this is mine now?"
"Of course. It belonged to Faun until his assets were seized. I picked it for you. Like it?" Anna nestled into Rick's arms coquettishly, shooting Love a provocative glance.
"Like it?!" Before Love could interject, Rick nodded eagerly.
"I knew you would. It's close to Champs-Élysées Avenue, where 60% of shops are now yours. Perfect for managing your properties." Anna now posed as the dutiful mistress, might as well call Love a home-wrecker.
"Let's go inside!"
After circling the manor, Rick burst in, unable to contain his excitement. The vast living room featured a vintage fireplace, a plush velvet rug, and a circle of expensive sofas behind which stood a wine rack stocked with fine bottles.
"Nice, really nice." Rick flopped onto a sofa, eyes closing in bliss at the cushioned comfort. "Now this is the life..."
Anna suddenly handed him a glass of wine and naturally leaned against Rick's shoulder, her breath like orchids in his ear. "Rick, can I move in here starting today?"
"Um..." Rick was about to nod when he jolted upright. "What did you say?"
"Live with you—what's the problem? We've done it before." Anna smiled coquettishly.
"No, no! If you move in, that crazy old man Arthur will kill me." Rick shook his head like a rattle.
"Hmph. So if there were no Emperor Arthur, you'd live together?" Love's voice sounded behind him, teeth grinding.
"Of course not—"
"Not what?!" Anna cut in irritably. "If the slutty scorpion is staying, then so am I." Love glared at Anna, not bothering to seek Rick's approval. "I'll fetch my luggage right away."
"Wait! Hold on!"
As the war of words threatened to escalate, Rick yelled a stop. Seizing the moment when Love and Anna hesitated, he bolted. "You two chat here—I need to find Moya at the barracks!"
"Hey!"
Shouts from Love and Anna trailed behind, but Rick didn't look back, fleeing down the street.
Strolling along, Rick recalled the headache-inducing scene, a smile crossing his face. In the past, fearing he might become a monster, he'd suppressed his feelings for both Love and Anna. But now, with all worries gone—no longer at risk of monstrosity and holding a prestigious title—perhaps it was time to face his emotions.
"What a headache... If only they could get along..." Rick pictured himself with both on his arms, grinning at the thought.
Lost in visions of his ideal life, Rick asked for directions and found the barracks where Lant and Moya stayed. Compared to yesterday's desolate temporary camp, today it bustled with energy.
The construction site, once piled with sand, now teemed with workers. Laborers with thick insect limbs raced to build the barracks, while compound-eyed designers—using vision more precise than electronics—directed them, correcting even micrometer errors. Their insects were not battle types; though they couldn't fight, these auxiliary insect users formed a vital force for the Duchy in rear areas.
Standing by the site, Rick watched with interest. As a pariah, he'd longed to have such work. Now, he lived in a different world.
"If I'd gotten an auxiliary insect instead of a battle one, maybe my life would be calmer."
Shaking his head at the thought, he turned to the registration office to ask for Moya's quarters. Escorted by a clerk, he found Moya's remote tent.
"Moya lives here?" Rick frowned at the shabby tent.
"Sir, the barracks are still under construction. Apologies for the humble facilities," the clerk said cautiously.
"Understood. I'll go in alone." Rick waved him off, pulling aside the tent flap.
Inside, Moya sat pale-faced before a mirror, staring blankly at his reflection, unaware of Rick's arrival.
"Moya," Rick called out.
Moya started, whirling around. At the sight of Rick, panic flashed across his face.
"What's wrong? Did your injury flare up?"
Rick rushed to check on him, but Moya stopped him, clutching his coat and shaking his head. "No, it's almost healed."
"How? It's only been a day—"
"Really. His Majesty's royal physician is incredibly skilled." Moya twisted his shoulder and waved his arm, moving without hesitation.
Relieved, Rick still felt awkward facing Moya's reluctance to converse. The atmosphere turned tense.
"So... why did you join the army?" Rick asked after a long pause.
"The Insect Hunter Guild has reformed into the Tanzan United Front Department, so we hunters were automatically commissioned," Moya mumbled, head down, his tone as cold as if speaking to a stranger.
"I see. Will you be stationed in Ison permanently?"
"Who knows? I'm not an officer."
Moya's detachment hurt Rick. The reunion lacked the expected excitement, as if a wall had severed their bond.
"How did this happen... Did our parting break our friendship?" Rick felt a chill, realizing he might have lost Moya's friendship forever.
Bitterly, he stood. "Where's Lant?"
"He's training to be a general—called away early."
"What about you—"
"I have no official role in the Front. Why would I go?"
Moya's words left Rick speechless. This stranger bore no trace of the friend he'd known. Something must have happened to him.
Convinced of this, Rick left hurriedly to find Lant and uncover what had changed Moya.
After Rick departed, Moya rose and approached the mirror, tearing open his coat.
With a hiss, six black, razor-sharp tentacles shot from his ribs, shattering the mirror. Watching them writhe like serpents, Moya felt their immense, unpredictable power—stronger even than Lant's.
"What... what is this thing..." Moya clutched his head in agony. And those strange equations flashing in my mind, those nonsensical phrases—what am I becoming?
In a café near Champs-Élysées Avenue in the city:
"Speak up, why drag me out of training in such a hurry?" Lant placed a thick stack of books beside him. Promoted to Wolf Cavalry commander, he now wore an officer's uniform with silver shoulder insignia, radiating vigor.
"I need to ask about recent events," Rick stirred his coffee, looking preoccupied.
"Recent events?" Lant thought, then smiled. "As you see, I'm now a field officer, about to lead a 300-man Wolf Cavalry Battalion. I'm undergoing officer training—honestly, it's been ages since I sat in classes, reminding me of the Spirit Lance family's glory days."
"Wait... that's not what I meant." Rick cut in, embarrassed. "I meant what happened to Moya. You've been together, right?"
"Moya?" Lant eyed Rick suspiciously, then exclaimed, "Oh right! I heard Arthur appointed you sheriff, in charge of three cities' law enforcement. So it's true—"
"Hey, I'm trying—"
"Alright, I know you're investigating. I'll cooperate." Seeing Rick's impatience, Lant raised his hands and sat back. "The biggest recent event was the Zarok ambush. Moya was badly wounded, nearly died."
"Anything else?"
"Else?" Lant sipped coffee. "Earlier, we took another Hell's Corridor mission. When raiding a Red Wasp nest, Moya panicked and soiled himself. It embarrassed him; he's become a laughingstock."
"I think he's different—hardly talks. He used to be a chatterbox, so..."
"True, I've noticed. But... you can't help him here." Lant pointed to his left chest meaningfully.
"Right." Lant nodded, gazing into the distance. "Recall what he said when he left with me?"
"That he wanted to chase his dream."
"Correct. But now, insect hunters with hunting territories are gone—his dream's shattered. Back in reality, he's been 打击 (打击,demoralized). Watching others rise while he stagnates would make anyone feel inferior. He was never confident to begin with." Lant paused, laughing wryly. "It's just pride—he's closed himself off. But everyone goes through this; outsiders can't help—he must adapt to reality."
"I see..." Rick nodded firmly. Lant's explanation made sense. Perhaps his own growth had made Moya reluctant to face him.
"Ah... does my existence pressure you?" Rick gulped his coffee, troubled. He cared about Moya, but as Lant said, he was helpless.
"Hey, don't fret over Moya. If he truly wants to succeed, he'll overcome this. If not, giving up unrealistic dreams for a stable life isn't bad."
"True—stability is happiness." Rick smiled, feeling better.
"By the way, did you finally resolve the trouble inside you?" Lant suddenly stared seriously. "Don't hide it. My ancient Spirit Lance family heritage means I know rumors ordinary people don't..."
Lant was cut off by Rick, who replied confidently, "It's completely cured. I won't become a monster ever again."
"Really? How's that possible... You've only had the egg implanted for a bit over a year. How could you—" Lant eyed Rick in astonishment. "So my feelings yesterday were real? You truly became an Insect Master?"
"Yes, I broke through just yesterday."
"Dammit, you monster!" Lant slammed the table, agitated.
"Hey, I'm not a monster. I just said—" Rick emphasized.
"Still denying it!" Lant rubbed his brow, painfully. "Becoming an Insect Master from the weakest Soldier Insect rank in a year? You call that normal? God... Now I get why Moya's pride shattered. Spending more time with you would crush mine too."
"..." Rick blinked. "You... you can't be serious..."
"Dead serious. Stay away from me from now on." Lant glared, resentfully. "Dammit, don't you realize the pressure you put on friends? I thought breaking through three ranks to Insect Captain in short time was incredible, but you—"
Lant shook his head wordlessly, his good mood vanished.
"Does my existence really pressure others so much?"
After parting with Lant outside the café, Rick watched his friend's back, lost in thought. Just then, an insect carriage emblazoned with Tanzan's royal seal stopped beside him.
"Lord Rick, His Majesty summons you," a palace guard announced, bowing.
"Understood."
Before boarding, Rick glanced back at where Lant had disappeared around the corner, sighed, and entered the carriage.
Back at Palais Saint-Rosel, Rick was led to Arthur's study. He flopped onto a sofa with a heavy sigh without greeting the Emperor.
"Hmm? Troubled?" Arthur, reviewing documents, looked up at Rick's tone.
"Yeah." Rick nodded frankly. "I don't get it. Does growing too strong drive friends away? Does my existence pressure them unconsciously?"
Arthur smiled thoughtfully, setting down his pen. "Sounds like tension with friends."
"Right! Our once-close bond feels suddenly distant, and it sounds like my fault!" Rick groaned.
"Natural, but not your fault." Arthur sat beside him. "People are different, so their paths vary."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean you're a genius, but your friends may not be—they might be ordinary. From the day a genius' talent is unearthed, they're destined to stand apart, above others. Ordinary people? They're fated to gaze up at geniuses from the mundane." Arthur's face soured with bitterness. "Humans are jealous creatures, even of friends. So exceptional geniuses are 注定 (doomed) to loneliness."
"Eh?" Rick eyed Arthur curiously. "Sounds like you've been through this too."
"No shit!" Arthur flicked Rick's head. "You're a genius—do you think I, the great one, wouldn't be? Don't let a compliment go to your head. If we'd lived in the same era, you'd be the ordinary one blinded by my genius, envying my shadow."
"..." Rick gaped, speechless.
"Alright, you distracted me from the real reason I called you." Arthur stood, fetching a file from his desk. "Houses Ferdinand and Zarok have secretly allied. Refusing to leave my territory, they're gathering forces in Kester City to rebel. I need you to handle this."
"Me?" Rick pointed at himself.
"Of course you—you're my sheriff. This falls under your purview."
"But—"
Rick tried to protest, but Arthur cut him off. "Don't refuse. The Duchy is newly founded—we can't afford unrest. If you can't eliminate them quickly, I'll send the army. Do you want your hometown ravaged by war? Your pariah friends slaughtered?"
Arthur's words hammered at Rick's heart. Gradually, his shock faded, replaced by resolve. "I won't let that happen."
Seeing Rick's expression, Arthur smiled, clapping his shoulder. "You'll depart after tomorrow's investiture. Oh, Manny joins your escort. As the Guild loyalists' figurehead, she's amassed many Guild members and supplies in Ison. I need her influence to prosper Kester and Terry County—provided those cities are absolutely stable. Understood?"
"Understood." Rick nodded firmly.
"Good. You may go." Arthur waved him off, then added, "Protect Manny. She's an excellent finance officer—I don't want to lose her."
"Got it. This isn't my first time guarding her." Rick waved dismissively and left.
Alone, Arthur closed his eyes, smiling on his throne. "Fascinating youth—he reminds me of my younger self."
Chin in hand, he marveled at his own investment in Rick. Is this why I waste time mentoring him?
After a long pause, he chuckled wryly. "He's still a child, uncharted in life. Maybe my guidance can spare him my old impulsiveness..."