Gong Du: “No.”
So his stomach condition was acting up.
Kang Quan firmly placed the tray back on the food cart.
Under the Admiral’s suddenly cold gaze, Kang Quan pulled out a piece of candy from his pocket. Though called candy, it was actually composed of solid pain medication and stomach-protective nutrients—one piece equivalent to a full meal.
The outer wrapper read “Breakfast.”
Kang Quan had been assigned to the First Army to care for the Admiral for many years now.
Back then, he had just graduated from the Federation Military Academy, still young, and being a combat-oriented adjutant, he wasn’t very skilled at taking care of people.
The first time he discovered the Admiral had a serious stomach condition was also during a morning.
He had brought in breakfast and watched the Admiral eat it bit by bit. His expression showed no abnormality, just eating slower than usual. Unexpectedly, after finishing the meal, the Admiral coughed up blood.
He was so shocked his hands and feet went cold, thinking the breakfast had been poisoned.
Though Elansno was moody and unpredictable, his leadership and abilities were undeniable. Without question, he was the First Army’s pillar of support. If the pillar fell, the First Army would inevitably fall into chaos.
In that instant, countless conspiracy theories flashed through Kang Quan’s mind.
Just as he was about to call the military doctor, he was stopped by the still-languid Admiral.
Kang Quan would never forget how this young Federation Admiral, after appreciating his anxious expression for a moment, said with what could only be described as malicious amusement: “Stomach condition. Just coughing up some blood—won’t kill me. What are you so nervous about?”
…
From that incident onward, he had kept a watchful eye and gradually discovered that when there were no urgent matters, the Admiral seemed obsessively, almost maniacally insistent on properly following three meals a day.
Even when his stomach condition was flaring up, even when the pain left him unable to speak, he never used nutritional injections as a substitute for eating.
Perhaps because of his special constitution as an S-level evolver, despite the Federation’s advanced technology, they were helpless against the Admiral’s stomach condition.
Kang Quan came up with a solution—writing “Breakfast,” “Lunch,” and “Dinner” on candy wrappers, then replacing the candy with solid mixtures of medicine and nutritional supplements. This barely managed to suppress the Admiral’s condition.
“Admiral, a new batch of munitions from the armory is about to be stored. There are many procedures that still need your approval. You can’t abuse your body like this.”
Gong Du set down his spoon and slowly leaned back, his eyes narrowing.
Kang Quan was undoubtedly a very competent adjutant—excellent in every way. He handled assigned tasks perfectly and had an extremely strong sense of propriety.
Unfortunately, he was particularly stubborn about his eating habits, defying him repeatedly over the years on this matter.
Gong Du: “Bring it here.”
Kang Quan respectfully stepped back: “This is also breakfast.”
He pointed to the “candy” on the table marked with the word “Breakfast.”
Gong Du: “I’m not blind yet.”
Kang Quan remained silent.
“Adjutant, bring it here.”
Kang Quan played dead.
After a long silence, seeing that the fixed breakfast time of 7:30 was approaching, Gong Du still picked up the candy from the table and put it in his mouth.
The soothing sweetness dissolved in his mouth. The Admiral apparently didn’t like sweet things—his brows furrowed slightly as he chewed twice, then held it between his teeth as if just going through the motions.
“You’re not this stubborn about other matters.”
Kang Quan paused: “Perhaps it’s because I have a younger brother at home. He’s in poor health and doesn’t like to eat, so regarding these matters I…”
“Younger brother?” Elansno repeated in a low voice.
The sound of the candy clacking between his teeth stopped.
Kang Quan’s heart jumped, feeling inexplicably uneasy.
After two or three seconds of silence, Elansno flew into an unpredictable rage, suddenly throwing down his spoon. His elbow propped on the table, fingertips white as he pressed them against his temples.
Younger brother.
Brother.
The sharp pain in his mind lasted for several seconds before vanishing instantly, leaving only an empty void where nothing could be grasped.
“Admiral!” Kang Quan stepped forward half a pace.
“It’s nothing, go out.” After a moment, Elansno waved his hand.
“…Yes.”
Kang Quan lowered his head, cleaned up the mess on the floor, and pushed the cart out.
Before closing the door, he looked back at Elansno.
The latter seemed to be staring blankly at the floor where the spoon had fallen. In those purple pupils, deep and shallow, appeared a trace of childlike bewilderment.
Kang Quan suppressed his doubts and closed the door.
*Click.*
Gong Du relaxed and leaned back, squinting: “With such strong mental fluctuations in my brain just now, the Rosh royal family has probably started issuing warnings, right?”
The small light orb was silent for two seconds: “Mm, your days ahead won’t be easy.”
Gong Du smiled: “It doesn’t matter.”
The script he had been preparing for over a decade, the threads he had laid—finally, it could officially begin.
…
In less than fifteen minutes, Gong Du received an imperial decree from the Imperial Capital Administration on his light brain.
Ordering him to handle First Army affairs and immediately visit the royal family.
Gong Du: “Tsk, faster than I imagined.”
Even after he finished preparations and traveled to the Imperial Capital, it would take three days. To send him the decree this early showed how anxious Rosh was.
Small light orb: “He thinks highly of you. I just checked the timeline—on Lan Xia’s side, the next protagonist is about to appear.”
Four protagonists.
Algiers, the future spiritual leader.
Jin Daike, the future research leader with brain domain evolution.
The next one was the representative of combat power, Shou Bing.
The young master of the recently eliminated anti-Federation organization Suto, a teenager who had just experienced the destruction of his family.
The temporary shelter had been set up in a very secluded spot within the forest.
After applying medicine and wrapping bandages, Lan Xia rebuttoned his shirt.
It was still the same shirt from before, with a large bloodstain soaking the left side. He pulled his windbreaker over it, hiding the bloodstains. Except for his pale complexion and the bloody scent on his body, he looked nothing like an injured person.
Jin Daike said softly: “It’s a pity we don’t have proper instruments, otherwise I could examine you more thoroughly.”
She was a year younger than Algiers, but when treating wounds and handling instruments, she already showed glimpses of confidence and composure.
“Your medicine is very effective,” Lan Xia patted her head: “Let me have a word with your brother.”
Finally, the moment had come.
Algiers said: “You all go scout the path ahead. We’ll set off shortly.”
Soon, only the two of them remained.
Algiers finally asked: “Who exactly are you, sir? Why did you save us?”
His eyes held some confusion.
Algiers felt he should be wary and cautious, but for some reason, looking at this young man with his calm aura, he couldn’t summon much wariness.
After he asked, this mysterious S-level mental power evolver lowered his head and pulled something from his windbreaker pocket.
A few wisps of thin morning light pierced through the gray clouds, carrying a cool, sparse quality, falling on the young man’s mottled, blood-stained shirt hem. Even the faint bloody scent in the air seemed to soften.
Lan Xia opened his palm, revealing a seed lying within.
Algiers: “What is this?”
Lan Xia: “A violet seed, given to me by my younger brother.”
“You…” Algiers probed, “You have a younger brother?”
“Mm.”
Lan Xia: “A-Nuo and I were twins. When he was eight or nine, he gave this to me three days before he died, saying he wanted to see the flowers bloom.”
A moment of silence.
Algiers was speechless, somewhat at a loss: “I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t know…”
Lan Xia shook his head to indicate it was fine, put away the seed, and said quietly: “A-Nuo died at the hands of the royal family. When I crawled back from the pile of corpses, I only found a piece of A-Nuo’s fabric among the ashes.”
That timeline was roughly more than ten years ago…
Algiers calculated in his mind—it should have been when Emperor Rosh had just ascended the throne, when Federation rule completely slid into darkness.
At that time, the Federation was massively conscripting soldiers, using iron-fisted methods to crush anti-Federation organizations that had just begun to emerge. Wherever they passed, there was yellow sand, withered trees, gunpowder smoke, and bloody bones scattered everywhere.
Yet to showcase his benevolence, Emperor Rosh established the “Hall of Divine Mercy” as a fig leaf, comparing himself to a god who pitied all living beings, specifically to shelter children left homeless by war.
But later, the “Hall of Divine Mercy” was burned clean by a great fire, with not a single child seen escaping alive from within. The Federation only gave a perfunctory “accident” as explanation.
It was only after that incident that anti-Federation organizations sprang up like bamboo after rain, like sparks scattered across the wilderness, spreading with prairie fire momentum, becoming unstoppable.
Until the Federation produced an S-level mental power evolver—Elansno emerged from nowhere. At the age of fourteen, wielding the Sword of Molo Triumph, he was personally granted general’s orders by Emperor Rosh and put in charge of the Federation’s First Army.
Over the following ten years, he secured his rank as Admiral and, through extremely brutal methods, suppressed the chaos erupting throughout the Federation.
…
This recent history, Algiers had only read about in banned books. But hearing it firsthand from someone who had lived through that period brought an entirely different sense of helplessness.
Algiers, wise beyond his years, sighed: “This country is already rotten.”
Lan Xia looked at him: “I’ve wandered this continent alone for many years. I stopped at B6 sector, and after extensive observation, I finally chose you.”
Algiers’ heart jumped as an incredible thought emerged. He quickly stood up: “You mean…?”
“Ants gnaw at towers, great buildings slowly collapse, dawn light will rise—the Federation needs a gravedigger,” Lan Xia said.
He looked up, stating his purpose directly: “Algiers, you are Dawn’s leader, but still too naive. If you’re willing to take me as your teacher, I will pour all my knowledge into teaching you, and guard Dawn until it has grown strong.”
“If you’re unwilling, I will leave and seek the next suitable person.”
Lan Xia gazed steadily at him.
A teenager who at barely over ten years old had the courage to establish Dawn and embark on opposing the Federation would never lack the necessary boldness and decisiveness.
Perhaps all of this had been destined from the moment Algiers chose to believe and grasp Lan Xia’s palm.
Algiers took a few seconds to quickly calm down, pressing his lips tightly.
Suddenly, a flash of determination crossed his eyes. He knelt on the ground and respectfully kowtowed three times to Lan Xia, performing the teacher-worship ceremony: “Teacher.”
Dawn was originally a newborn anti-Federation organization, and now it had suffered heavy losses, with the future path uncertain.
This group of people had nothing left except their lives. Algiers couldn’t think of any reason why an S-level evolver would risk his life to save them and then go to great lengths to deceive them.
Moreover, Dawn indeed needed a powerful protector right now.
Sometimes Algiers preferred to trust his instincts. He had gambled once—why couldn’t there be a second time?
Lan Xia accepted the continental teacher-worship ceremony.
After Algiers finished, he extended his hand to help the young man up, showing a smile.
Algiers, mindful of his injuries, didn’t dare let him exert force and quickly stood up himself. With their relationship suddenly becoming intimate, the teenager seemed a bit shy and unaccustomed, so he casually asked a question.
“Teacher, is there anything you want?”
No normal person yearned for war, and everyone who stepped onto the anti-Federation path wasn’t a saint—they all carried something, whether for fame, profit, hatred, or hope for future generations.
What about his teacher? Was it also to avenge his dead twin brother?
Something he wanted?
Carefully speaking, there was only one thing.
The young man’s pale fingers unconsciously touched his windbreaker pocket, feeling the temperature of that seed through the fabric.
Lan Xia smiled: “I’m just a wanderer, searching for a place where violets can bloom.”
And all those who blocked the flowers from blooming—
Whether the Rosh royal family or Elansno.
He would personally break the Federation’s Sword of Molo Triumph.
And scatter these people’s ashes before his brother’s grave.
【Lan Xia: Authenticity 10%
Remaining survival time: 4 years and 362 days】
Author’s Note:
Brothers killing each other script (×)
Me killing myself script (√)
Master Gong’s passionate performance~
Need to take care of both sides of the alter ego. The script hasn’t fully unfolded yet, so any inconsistencies are foreshadowing.
For reading experience, Lan Xia has almost no psychological descriptions—just treat him as the older brother. When Master Gong is in character as the Admiral younger brother, he generally uses Elansno’s name.
**
