MCDWTBS Chapter 58

Chapter 58: Chapter 58: A Crisp White Shirt Hugging a Firm Body…

Three days later, Serra and Ilia entered a special channel in the Star Network space for negotiations with the Pope on Celestial Star.

To Serra’s surprise, the Pope himself was present at this private, small-scale negotiation. He wore a half-face serpent mask, covering his left eye and half of his face, but the remaining features were unexpectedly young, standing out among the group of old cardinals.

But no insectoid would be deceived by the Pope’s appearance. After Serra’s virtual figure appeared in the conference room, the insectoids of the Holy See also took their seats one after another. Ilia, due to his special status, was fortunate enough to have his virtual figure remain in the meeting, standing respectfully behind Serra.

The Holy See now had five bishops remaining, including Bishop Sandersfi, who had fled back to Celestial Star from the Duke’s mansion like a drowned rat. Bishops Sass and Alec were absent, and Serra raised an eyebrow, opening his mouth rather flippantly:

“It seems the Pope hasn’t found two suitable replacements yet. Celestial Star has been operating independently, detached from Imperial control for many years, but is it lacking in administrative management? The seven archbishops are the pillars of Celestial Star, it’s a pity only five of them are here today.”

Serra’s gaze slowly swept across the faces of the Holy See insectoids present, not lingering excessively on the Holy Son seated next to the Pope. Like him, the Holy Son had no reaction to his appearance, only raising his eyebrows after he spoke those provocative words, a frivolous smile on his lips.

Among the other Holy See insectoids, several bishops whose names Serra couldn’t recall showed expressions of furious anger. This was not difficult to understand, after all, two of their bishops had died directly or indirectly at Serra’s hands, and the “justice” they believed in had been repeatedly thwarted by Serra’s sudden emergence.

But to Serra’s regret, the Pope and several of his close aides did not show the slightest abnormality, as if Serra’s words were emotional ravings of a young insectoid, or as if the two dead bishops were insignificant to them.

This caused Serra’s expression to darken slightly. He was certainly not a hothead who was satisfied with a moment of verbal sparring. The news Ilia brought and the Holy Son’s current situation had brought his vigilance towards the Holy See to its peak. He had to admit that after the occult entered his vision and consideration, the Holy See’s power and years of operation made it impossible for Serra to fathom their depths.

When a battle comes, it’s a great taboo to not understand the enemy, or to have a wrong prediction of the opponent. Serra wanted to provoke a reaction from the Holy See insectoids, but he had clearly failed. Even Bishop Sandersfi, who had luckily escaped from his hands, did not show the slightest anger at his words, his expression calm as if their life-and-death battle and filth had never existed:

“Duke Serra, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Today, the Holy See invites you to meet in order to maintain the peace and prosperity of the insectoid race, and to resolve the regrets and misunderstandings between us.”

Sandersfi’s aged face showed a smile: “His Holiness the Pope is the insectoid closest to God. Today, he has come in person, only to cast aside the estrangement with Duke Serra and offer guidance.”

Serra’s gaze fell on Sandersfi. He looked very old, even older than when they had previously met, but his expression was calm and his face was ruddy. This made Serra’s eyes flicker, because he vaguely remembered how embarrassed Sandersfi looked when he fled, his shoulders pierced by Edwin, his mental tendrils torn apart by Serra—if not completely destroyed. Yet now he was sitting here, looking as normal as could be, except for his aged complexion.

This shouldn’t be. Serra knew how fragile a male insectoid’s body was. His original male father was a good example—his body was weakened from taking mental energy growth potions, and he was bedridden all year round. But Sandersfi, after suffering such heavy injuries, was actually able to sit here. This in itself was a display of the Holy See’s mysterious power to them.

Or rather, power stolen from the Mother Goddess.

Serra frowned, no longer pointlessly provoking the Holy See insectoids. He discussed the details of the agreement with Sandersfi, who was speaking on behalf of the Pope, arguing over every word and sentence. He no longer showed the slightest bit of youthful frivolity, but instead argued on the basis of reason, like a meticulous scholar, trying his best to win more space and benefits for the Duke’s mansion.

He could feel the Pope’s gaze lingering on him for longer, while the Holy Son next to the Pope fell into a state of semi-consciousness, his silver hair draped over his shoulders. Even through the virtual projection, one could see the moving luster of that pure white hair.

Ilia, behind Serra, seemed a little uneasy. He endured it for a while, and then finally violated the etiquette of a sub-male, raising his eyes to look at the dozing silver-haired Holy Son. The other party noticed Ilia’s gaze, and gave Ilia a sweet smile with amorous eyes.

Sandersfi, who was speaking, paused, obviously angered by the silver-haired Holy Son’s absurd behavior. But the other party leaned back on the chair in a nonchalant manner, raising a slender leg—Serra couldn’t help but wonder how exactly he managed to use his mental energy to simulate the adult body of a male insectoid with the body of a young insectoid—gracefully placing it on the knee of the other leg, with a look of indifferent smile:

“Continue discussing, everyone, don’t mind me. Even if your buzzing sounds disturb my sleep, but you know, Bishop Sandersfi, I have always been very tolerant.” The handsome, almost excessive silver-haired male insectoid winked at Sandersfi with flirtatious eyes:

“It’s very interesting, haha, it’s been a long time since any insectoid has lectured me with such a serious load of bullshit, but I have to say, your faces are really disgusting, except for this beautiful sub-male—”

The silver-haired Holy Son gave Ilia a flirtatious look, but seemed unable to remember the other’s name: “If only more female insectoids and sub-males could accompany me, life would be so boring without beauty.”

Serra could finally openly focus his attention on the Holy Son, watching the other’s skillful performance. He knew that the other’s unfamiliar attitude towards Ilia was actually a subtle form of protection, so he feigned displeasure:

“Your Holiness the Holy Son, the sub-male you speak of is my sub-male brother Ilia. If I remember correctly, he is already one of your female attendants, or have you not given him a proper status after being so smitten with him at first sight?”

“Oh… oh, is that so.”

The silver-haired Holy Son rolled his shimmering light gray eyes, supporting his shapely chin with his hand, and thought for a while before saying:

“Female attendant? Oh no… I think I’ve disappointed you, Duke. I don’t have any female attendants. As a male insectoid, I can pick any spring flower in the mountains, so there are always things I forget. I only wish to dedicate my beautiful body to nourish more flowers and beautiful scenery. You know, it’s hard for me to let other lovely little cakes compare and be sad for a certain sub-male…”

As he spoke, he flirtatiously winked at Ilia, while Serra’s expression stiffened by his superb acting, and the Pope, who was seated at the head, suddenly spoke:

“Francis, my dear child, you are making yourself lose face.”

Unlike his young and handsome appearance, the Pope’s voice was low, with a hint of gloomy and aged hoarseness. It didn’t sound like the voice of a young and strong male insectoid, but rather suited his identity as an old, immortal monster. Even though Serra was calm, he still felt uncomfortable with the snake-like crawling voice.

“Duke Serra is the same age as you, yet he is watertight and takes every step carefully. Aren’t you ashamed of your actions, my child?”

The Pope’s voice was strangely gentle, like a father gently chiding his playful child, making Serra’s hair stand on end. If he didn’t know that the Holy Son was his rich second-generation student, and that the other party could never have a father-son relationship with the Pope, he might really have been deceived by this facade.

The Holy Son opened his mouth, but did not continue speaking. The confident expression on his face froze, forcing him to lower his head to conceal it, looking completely like a spoiled child who was unwilling to admit his mistake despite being pampered by his elders.

Serra felt intensely uncomfortable with this scene. He urgently wanted to pull his student out of this situation, but according to the existing information and situation, he had to admit his powerlessness.

Wait a little longer. He thought, when he gathered strength… when the situation changed. He took one last look at the silver-haired Holy Son, and then met the Pope’s gaze.

“Serra, my child, your talent is amazing.” The Pope’s voice rang out, and the other insectoids instantly fell silent: “You know, in the eyes of the Mother Goddess, you and I are all her children. The blood of our fathers and their past are irrelevant. In fact, you and Sass have many things in common.”

The Pope mentioned the dead Archbishop casually, as if he was not moved by his fate at all: “You were both born into so-called families, and Sass received guidance from God. And you, my child, you also have a broader vision. You should understand that the future submits to your will, and everything you want… can be satisfied. This is a divine gift, and no one is more generous than God. The title bestowed upon you by the Golden Feather is just a trivial joke. You have far more foresight than those nobles who hold their positions without doing anything, my child?”

Serra allowed the Pope’s words to flow through his body like a cold mist, and after a moment he said:

“When Archbishop Sass turned into a charred corpse, our common ground became very little, Your Holiness the Pope. Why don’t you let me and Sandersfi continue to discuss our verbal agreement, what do you say?”

A hoarse chuckle was heard from the head seat because of Serra’s barbed words, and Sandersfi’s face was horrified. It took a long time before he continued to discuss with Serra intermittently.

*

By the time Serra finished the verbal agreement with the Holy See, he couldn’t help but show signs of exhaustion. It wasn’t physical or mental exhaustion, but fatigue caused by various speculations and worries.

Ilia bid farewell in advance. He would soon take the contract signed by Serra back to Celestial Star, and Serra let him go back to be with Sison earlier, cherishing this hard-won reunion.

He returned to the West Wing suite, standing by the door, quietly looking at Edwin’s blurred face in his sleep, illuminated by the night streetlights in the Duke’s mansion courtyard. His mental tendrils were firmly attached to Edwin’s slightly heaving chest, stubbornly filling the groove in front of Edwin’s chest, making Serra feel both ashamed and strangely satisfied.

He quietly watched Edwin recover in his sleep, without making a sound, but the fatigue slowly flowed out of his body, leaving only a gentle and constant sense of peace.

He would do all this well.

He thought, without even approaching Edwin’s medical bay, lest he disturb him. Celestial Star and Capital Star had a time difference. Before long, the streetlights went out, and the faint light at the junction of dawn and dusk shone through the gaps in the curtains. Serra knew it was time for him to go to Sky City to complete his meeting with Colean.

At this meeting, he would use the chips he had to win back the Fourth Army. He would return the honor belonging to the military female, to Edwin.

He didn’t tell Edwin this idea. He himself was unwilling to face the fact that Edwin would return to the battlefield and face danger, but no matter how he felt, his heart knew it was the right thing to do.

The male insectoid slowly moved his stiff legs, which had been standing for too long, and walked towards the bathroom and cloakroom connected to the bedroom. He did not realize that in the medical bay behind him, the black-haired female insectoid had gently opened his eyes.

Edwin’s body still hadn’t gotten rid of the fatigue, but the pain of body reshaping had receded like a tide on a certain night. He felt familiar and strange energy surging in his flesh and blood, which made him tired every moment, eager to accelerate the fusion of his body and the new energy through sleep.

Even before he opened his eyes from his slumber, he could feel Serra’s presence. That was not only the male insectoid’s faint pheromones when he approached, but also because Serra’s gaze, which he tried to restrain but still had warmth, fell on him persistently, disturbing him.

Even knowing that the gaze came from his insectoid cub, it still made his heart beat faster. He thought perhaps it was because of the inappropriate marking between him and Serra, the mistake that almost made him lose his insectoid cub… an error that must be corrected and restrained.

In the darkness, the black-haired female insectoid picked up the mental tendrils wriggling around him, and in the faint morning light, watched the young male insectoid walk from the bathroom into the cloakroom. The other party was unaware of the female insectoid’s awakening and gaze. The personal robot hovered in the air, taking care of his forever untamed, messy curly hair, and he was stretching his arms, taking out the formal dress that the Duke wore on formal occasions from the cloakroom.

The crisp white shirt wrapped around the firm and strong male insectoid body, the hem of the shirt clinging to the male insectoid’s lean waist. The white fabric vaguely outlined the shape of his abdominal muscles and mermaid line—the not-too-exaggerated muscle groups still had a youthful feel, neither flamboyant nor inferior. The male insectoid’s untamed curly hair was now fixed with hairspray, revealing a smooth, flawless forehead. His slender fingers were arranging his sleeves, and the blue blood vessels on his fingers could be vaguely seen in the dim light, and the wrists wrapped in the cuffs were neat and slender, with an unspeakable, forbidden and restrained temptation.

Before Edwin realized what he was doing, his cheeks were already flushed red, and he had to raise his hand to cover half of his face, barely regaining his composure.

What was he doing?

In the dimness, Edwin’s blue eyes widened in horror. He was puzzled by his unconscious and uncontrollable behavior, but the scene just now was still in his mind, unwilling to dissipate for a long time.

He remembered the way those hands touched him, those slender fingers, the slightly raised knuckles, the male insectoid’s hotter body temperature than his, he remembered the kiss falling on his neck, he remembered—

No…

Horror and shame instantly seized Edwin, squeezing the air out of his lungs, causing him to let out an uneasy gasp, and his eyes vaguely filled with tears… How could this be? What was he doing? That was his insectoid cub, that was the insectoid cub he swore to protect, his most important treasure, how could he—how could he think of his insectoid cub like that?

These lewd, unbearable, dirty and unfamiliar thoughts, even if they were sporadic and fleeting, made him stiff, and self-loathing almost made a comeback.

How could he?

Serra in the cloakroom quickly caught the female insectoid’s unusual gasp, and immediately ran out of the cloakroom with a worried look. The jewel cufflinks that hadn’t been fastened on his wrist were thrown aside by him, rolling next to the medical bay.

“Male Father! How do you feel? Is there anything wrong?”