Aboard the source energy airship CA117, which had departed under cover of night, there were two people besides Han Qingyu and his core squad.
One was Pegmont.
Like Han Qingyu, Pegmont had not yet fully recovered from his injuries. Over the past few days, however, he had found the time to trim his hair and redye the tuft of pink hair on his forehead. He looked just as annoying as he had back in the day, yet he was full of vibrant fearlessness—or perhaps it was just his usual blindness and utter cluelessness.
As the only peak Vault-tier combatant that Azure officialdom could currently field, Pegmont could not sit this battle out.
At the same time, the Azure high command held immense expectations for the trait-actualization effect that might manifest if he obtained the skeletal remains.
In truth, Pegmont's situation had, to some degree, always been very similar to Han Qingyu's. The reason they repeatedly hurled themselves into such desperate, dead-end battles regardless of their own condition and heedless of the consequences...
First, there was a simple and honest reason: they had grown used to it. Bearing this responsibility for the fate and future of humanity had, without them even realizing it, become a habit they shared.
Second, the opportunity that the appearance of the Yanxiu skeletal remains might bring was something everyone eagerly anticipated for both of them.
In the theoretical extrapolations made by Azure's researchers regarding the fusion effects of the remains, Han Qingyu might achieve a leap in growth and become peerlessly powerful—an existence rivaling the strongest mature Yanxiu—while Pegmont was very likely to gain stability in his trait.
In other words, Pegmont might no longer need to be deliberately deceived and guided. Knowing full well the reality, he would be able to actively choose a powerful reference target and permanently anchor that perception of supreme strength within himself.
The final shared reason that made both of them resolutely charge into battle was the Mars evacuation campaign that had occurred not long ago.
Regarding that battle, there was no need to revisit the other details for now. It was simply that when those eighty thousand Azure veterans and dozens of human airship pilots ultimately made the unanimous choice to buy time for their evacuation with their lives, trading dozens of lives for every single second... neither of them had any room left for hesitation or choice.
This was why Han Qingyu—despite his Yanxiu powers not yet recovering, his combat capability falling far short of Rusty Sister's and Wu Xu's—had not chosen to steer clear for now or keep resting and recovering while waiting to see how the situation developed before making a decision.
He had to go.
This was an answer to the battle on Mars, and quite possibly the final battle. As long as there remained a sliver of hope and opportunity, Han Qingyu would crawl there even if he were crippled and broken.
The other person on the airship was General Jiang Longchi.
In the end, they had still brought this old man—who had suffered from amnesia for years, whose forgetfulness had become a chronic affliction, and who seemed to some to be tormented by Alzheimer's disease—aboard the airship for this desperate expedition.
There was no rationalizing it, no excuse that conformed to reason or morality.
The only thing they could hold with absolute conviction, the small consolation they had, was knowing full well that if General Jiang were in his right mind, he would have chosen to go just the same.
He could still fight.
Not only could he fight.
In fact, after taking stock of everyone, they had been astonished to realize that this forgetful old man, with his current half-step Vault-tier prowess, was very likely the de facto number one combat power in humanity's source weapon world right now.
"So you're saying I have to listen to you the whole time on this trip, right? If you tell me not to go, I can't go. If you tell me to fall back, I have to fall back. Especially if there's a big thing, and you don't allow me to engage, I can't pounce on it no matter what—is that it?" Clad in military uniform, Jiang Longchi fixed Han Qingyu with a piercing gaze.
"Right," Han Qingyu nodded. They had not been en route for long, yet he had already stressed these rules to Jiang Longchi several times.
Unexpectedly, Jiang Longchi suddenly flared up with anger. "The hell with your grandpa! Does that make me a dog?"
Han Qingyu: "Huh?"
After the initial shock, Han Qingyu thought it over. That set of rules—especially how he had phrased it—really did sound a bit off.
"Wait, no, I am your grandpa! So is your grandpa a dog?"
General Jiang continued to scold him. Once that sole stubborn memory anchor—"I am your grandpa"—was triggered, he became even more infuriated.
"It's a misunderstanding, General Jiang. The only reason Qingzi said that was to protect you," Wen Jifei chimed in, trying to placate him.
"Bullshit! Him protecting me? What do you mean, he's protecting me?" Jiang Longchi snapped. "Just before we left, I promised his real mom and dad that I'd look after him on this trip. Don't worry, I'll look after you. I'll take good care of you, Qingzi."
Jiang Longchi's tone suddenly softened. As he spoke, he reached out and took hold of Han Qingyu's arm, gripping it tightly.
He seemed to have already forgotten that he had been angry just a moment before.
Before Han Qingyu could respond—
"Speaking of which, since we brought Old Jiang along this time, why didn't we bring the other old guy too?" Pegmont suddenly joined the conversation, speaking in his usual brash manner. "I know he's in terrible shape, but shouldn't we at least have gone to see him? What, did you guys already go visit him in private after coming back this time? Without me?"
The "he" Pegmont spoke of was naturally the commander of the Huaxia Front, Chen Buer.
Because of Pegmont's question, an unexpected silence fell over the cabin for several seconds. No one spoke.
By all accounts, they should have gone to see him. But during their few days of rest, none of them had visited Chen Buer—no one had even brought it up.
It had been an almost completely subconscious shared decision. Only now, when asked so bluntly, did each of them begin silently turning over the reasons and rationales in their minds.
*He can't move at all anymore, can't speak, and can't hear, right? If that's the case, what difference does it make whether we visit or not?* Wu Xu thought earnestly.
*Even if we went, what then? We couldn't possibly tell him what's happening to the world now when he's already like this, let alone drag him... haul him up onto the airship, could we?* Yang Qingbai thought with a bitter smile.
*The old man probably wouldn't want us to see him so powerless, would he? Or maybe he wouldn't want himself in such a state to face us, to hear us say that in the end, we still have to go fight that battle,* Rusty Sister thought sorrowfully.
*I don't know if you could actually still come, but I don't want to see you come, old man,* Han Qingyu thought.
*Maybe Qingzi and I didn't want to carry that kind of expectation—or to put it more harshly, that kind of reliance—as we set out on this next leg of the journey.*
*Just act as though Chen Buer no longer exists in the mortal realm?*
*No! That's not it. In truth, we're all afraid of completely losing that last thread of hope, too afraid to admit it openly,*
Wen Jifei thought.
It had probably been the year before last. That year, after Qingzi knew he had surpassed peak Superior tier and stepped into the Vault tier, they had been drinking and chatting when He Tangtang casually remarked:
"I'd really love to see what the old man's legendary strike actually looks like when he unleashes it."
Because of that sentence, the few people around the drinking table had suddenly fallen into an inexplicable daze, as if plunged into a long night that had abruptly and permanently lost the stars and the moon.
Chapter 970