The chilly wind unfurled the battle flags, carrying the scent of seawater. Once, Lu Yunian would have detested this smell, but since his pregnancy, he’d become desensitized to it. After all, this child was conceived amidst an overwhelming sea-scented pheromone.
“General, the sea tribe’s advance troops just ambushed the ninth trench. We captured their squad leader, who’s demanding we release their king,” the deputy commander reported, his gaze inadvertently falling to Lu Yunian’s waist. Their general was always imposing, larger than the average Alpha, but lately he seemed even more robust. The gun holster belt, once at his waist, now rested on his right thigh.
“Show them the portrait of that mermaid Alpha Dr. Pei rescued,” Lu Yunian said, his gaze fixed on the beach below the clouds. Blood stained the rocks, his eyes cold and grim, exuding a General’s icy demeanor. “Searching for someone shouldn’t be an excuse for war. Even if we had him, we wouldn’t just hand him over.”
“They should know what the name Lu Yunian represents.”
Lu Yunian represented an undefeated army.
As the battle raged, turning half the sky red and staining the shoreline with blood and debris, the agonized screams reached them. Lu Yunian instinctively shielded his belly with both hands, concealing the coldness in his eyes.
Pei Xiuran appeared behind him on the combat ship’s deck as they surveyed the horizon. He held a sketch of the beautiful mermaid Alpha, gently touching the eyebrow with his fingertip to extend it, bringing the image to life.
“The sea tribe recognized the portrait but said it’s not their king,” Pei Xiuran said, smiling softly at the sketch before crumpling it and tossing it into the clouds. “I was too gullible. That little Alpha was full of lies, and I believed him.”
“It’s better this way,” Pei Xiuran sighed, tucking his pen into his shirt pocket. He turned, asking with concern, “You didn’t rest well last night. Do you want to take a short nap? The sea tribe just lost a division. Given Hai Mu’er’s tactics, they’ll need about three hours to regroup.”
Lu Yunian gave Pei Xiuran a penetrating look, but seeing no sign of evasion, he joked, “You seem to know your old lover well.”
Back at the camp, Hai Yu sat on a haystack by the pigpen, eating watermelon Gu Zeyu had cut, spitting out black seeds. “Big brother, believe me, I really am the sea tribe’s king. They value bloodlines. I may not be powerful, but I’m the only direct descendant of the king and queen, the last mermaid.”
Gu Zeyu, lost in thought, held a slice of watermelon uneaten. He sighed so much that even Hai Yu stopped talking and asked with concern, “Is your melon not sweet?”
Gu Zeyu hadn’t heard from Lu Yunian in three days. He curled up miserably, tears falling.
“Am I useless?” he sniffled, rubbing his red eyes, then remembering Lu Yunian’s dislike of his crying, he abruptly stopped. “The battlefield must be dangerous. No matter how strong he is, he’s still an Omega.”
Hai Yu’s ears perked up at the word “Omega.” He jumped up as if stung, exclaiming, “Omega! My nephew is an Omega too, cunning and ruthless. Don’t be sexist! We’re Alphas ourselves, you know.”
The two incompetent Alphas exchanged glances, sighed in unison, and tossed the green-skinned, red-fleshed watermelon to the pigs.
“You have a nephew? I couldn’t tell you were that old. You’ve aged well,” Gu Zeyu said seriously, tilting his head.
“It’s about rank, not age!” Hai Yu jumped up, fist clenched. Mentioning his Omega nephew angered him. “That brat is awful. He stole my rights, my wealth, and even seduced my…”
“Forget that unlucky thing,” the little mermaid fumed, his ear tips burning red like ripe cherries. “Blame heaven, earth, or myself. I just wish I could evolve into a powerful Alpha sooner.”
“If I become a powerful Alpha, could I be by his side?” Gu Zeyu mused, repeating the phrase to himself.
As dusk fell, Pei Xiuran’s assessment of Hai Mu’er’s tactics proved outdated. The advance troops were merely a smokescreen; a new wave of attacks erupted on the western coast within an hour. Dark shadows lurked behind gray islands, sea conch horns wailing like sirens, making the soldiers grimace.
Reconnaissance planes flanked the artillery units on orders. The battlefield was thick with smoke and potent high-level pheromones. With cruisers at a disadvantage in naval combat, Lu Yunian ordered a full retreat to Black Rock Harbor. Lu Yunian excelled in land, sea, and air warfare, but this disrupted his preferred strategy. Coupled with his opponent’s unpredictable tactics, the two armies had been locked in combat near Black Rock Harbor for three days.
“General, signal lights spotted!” a Hummingbird Alpha scout reported. Lu Yunian scanned the horizon, seeing enemy gathering signals flickering where the sea met the sky.
“Artillery units, assemble and report remaining ammunition. Heavy breakthrough artillery, aim 32 guns at 40 degrees north latitude,” Lu Yunian ordered. As the main cannon roared, high-explosive shells tore through the night sky, bursting in flashes over the surging waves.
But this battle came suddenly, and Lu Yunian’s troops struggled. The ocean swallowed their artillery fire, all attacks seemingly ineffective. Lu Yunian’s heart sank as he ordered all naval ships to gather. He stood at the forefront of the deck, facing the wind and waves.
No one knew that he was pregnant. To them, he was their god defending home and country, their General who always rushed to the frontline – Lu Yunian.
The sea tribe’s entire strategy aimed to lure Lu Yunian onto the sea. Once he entered their domain, all myths could be overturned. Lu Yunian’s fleet couldn’t retreat. Sea tribe soldiers swarmed up ropes onto the ships, until blood on the deck soaked through black boots.
Perhaps the smell of blood disturbed the child in his womb, who kicked the Omega hard, causing a moment’s distraction as he raised his weapon. In that split second, Lu Yunian’s gun slipped from his hand, clattering heavily on the deck.
Lu Yunian never feared death, but for an instant, he worried about not bringing his unborn child into the world. He suddenly thought of Gu Zeyu, that crybaby. If news of his death reached him, how many days and nights would he cry?
He didn’t want him to cry; it was truly too noisy. This was Lu Yunian’s last thought as the sea creatures surged to engulf him. In his daze, he saw the little crybaby Alpha standing beside him.
Gu Zeyu frowned, his ice-blue eyes filled with displeasure. His voice, devoid of warmth, coldly stated, “Too noisy.”
Author’s Note: God Yu appears.
Lu Yunian: Lu Yunian represents the undefeated.
Enemy: Ah, you’ve lost.
God Yu: Oh?
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