Angel Palace.
On the wide grassland square, a gentle breeze blew, and in the center stood four giant stone statues.
The statues were majestic and grand, sitting amidst a sea of flowers.
The statues comprised three round spheres with small wings at their backs, wearing a crown, a phoenix crown, and a chancellor’s hat on their round heads.
These were the three great angels, and the last statue was a multi-handed butterfly.
Patta~
Patta~
Among the flowers, little angels with winged balls were hopping about.
Clearly flying creatures, but now they stubbornly preferred to transform into little bouncing balls, hopping along their way, flapping their tiny wings in the midst of their jumps, particularly adorable.
One must admit, the Butterfly Race’s sense of aesthetics is indeed quite remarkable.
Who says beauty must be in human form?
There simply is no concept of human form for them. Judging other civilizations from a human perspective is too narrow; they only pursue what they perceive as beautiful.
"Where shall we attack today?"
"I don’t know."
"Let’s slt iron."
"Ugh, tending the furnace is tiring."
...
The little cuties kept exchanging words.
Since the Angel Race defeated all their natural enemies, they entered a period of rest and recuperation.
Outside, the square was calm and peaceful, but within the high palace, the atmosphere was exceptionally tense.
Above, two angels with crowns sat rotundly on the imperial throne, with a golden scepter on the left and a golden longsword on the right.
They were the Angel King and the angel leader as the queen.
Below, a group of aged ministers was incredibly agitated:
"Your Majesty, you are the Angel King, having already defeated the strongest dragon species."
"And we are already the strongest Butterfly Race. Why not attack the Cangwu Tree?"
"How could the original butterfly species possibly be our match?"
"The high and mighty God of Longevity and God of Wisdom are also opponents to face!"
"As long as we take the divine authority, longevity, wisdom, and other treasures, we are sure to beco new gods; you will surely beco the greatest King of Gods."
Insect Thirteen quietly watched this scene.
The old generals who once fought alongside him had gradually changed before him.
Aged, pained, fearful, greedy...
Their bodies’ telekinesis and strength were slowly drained away.
Every nerve and silk thread in their bodies were like strings on a harp breaking, the chronic aging making their faces contorted.
Insect Thirteen’s voice was dignified and calm, firmly posing two questions: "Who gave us wisdom, and who delayed our aging?"
Silence fell below.
Insect Thirteen quietly looked at the war angels below, his expression suddenly razor-sharp, his voice gently echoing in the palace, "How many years have you been with ?"
The war angels below replied in unison: "Twenty-one years."
Insect Thirteen smiled, "The Angel Race was only established for over twenty years, yet we pacified the Saxing Grassland, renad it Angel Grassland, defeated various dragon species, and expanded outward with no rivals left."
"Now, we’ve fought every species in the world; the grassland is filled with bouncing little angels, only leaving two deities yet to be fought..."
"We are said to be the most beautiful life; back then, countless young little green worms admired us, with timid and pure eyes, following us, saying they wanted to join us and follow our ’Angel’ knotted diagrams to beco the most beautiful angels."
Insect Thirteen recounted calmly, "But now, just over twenty years later, we’ve beco so ugly."
Below, a war angel believed the majesty agreed and quickly exclaid, "We’ve beco so ugly, so we must battle the Celestial God, regain our youth, and beco the most beautiful life."
Insect Thirteen shook his head, "I am saying, we are a race pursuing beauty; don’t let us die too ugly, beco too unsightly."
These words dropped, and the war angels below trembled inwardly.
They instantly understood the majesty’s aning.
The majesty did not wish to go to war.
The situation took an unexpected turn; they thought the majesty was preparing to agree to go to war, but now...
Suddenly, the scene was dead silent!
Insect Thirteen sighed, "Insect Eighty-nine, do you rember what you said when you cocooned back then?"
Below, a war angel shuddered; he hadn’t used that embarrassing little na for a long ti.
The entire race knew him as the undefeated Blazing Angel!
He was called the King’s Sword, the Power Angel with ninety-nine victories, the Punishnt Angel, the Dragon Slayer.
Suddenly being called by his little na left him feeling at a loss.
The Blazing Angel adjusted the longsword by his side and said quietly, "Your Majesty, when I cocooned back then, I said, I am not afraid to die."
"Good, good."
Insect Thirteen coldly laughed, "Insect Eighty-nine, now you are afraid to die."
This line, with increasing weight, allowed the ministers present to hear the anger.
The Blazing Angel was sweating profusely, his rotund sphere sweating uncontrollably, and the small wings behind him began to tremble slightly, beyond his control.
Insect Thirteen’s gaze fell on another war angel, and he called by the little na again:
"Insect Forty-six, do you rember what you told back then?"
"At that ti, you were still a worm, cocooning in the weaving garden, proposing to change the second angelic brain structure. I said you might die; do you rember how you responded?"
This renowned Throne Angel of the dynasty was silent for a mont:
"I said, this is the Divine Trial for the Butterfly Race to beco beautiful. To beco beautiful, one must endure pain; even if I die today, if it allows other worms not to tread my path, leading to becoming beautiful, it would be worth it."
The Throne Angel, clad in a red mantle, paused and murmured softly:
"But Your Majesty, isn’t this the trial that’s ugly to the point of beauty? I’m doing this for you, Your Majesty. We are waging war against the gods of High Heaven, we will gain wisdom, we will gain... immortality!"
Insect Thirteen gazed at the angels below, exuding terrifying might, and mocked:
"Killing the God of Longevity and the God of Wisdom will make you beautiful?"
"If the heart becos dirty, what’s the use of dressing up a beautiful façade? A knot, no matter how well tied, is still an empty shell if it’s only for show."
"If an angel’s heart becos ugly, how can that be fair to those who idolize us, those new insects who pursue beauty?"
"Don’t betray expectations, don’t beco ugly."
The entire palace fell into silence.
Insect Thirteen folded the two wings behind him, resting a golden scepter against his body, looking down at the angels.
This founding emperor, who once fought across the world, now appeared sowhat haggard, his gaze sweeping over each War Angel, causing them to instinctively avoid his eyes.
It was as if those eyes could see through them.
This King of War, who once conquered the world, now emitted a fierce aura towards them, making the courtiers present tremble as if they might lose their heads any mont.
They were afraid that he would be the third to call out their na, to speak of the matters of the past.
But he no longer nad nas, his voice suddenly turned hoarse filled with helplessness,
"You, who are capable of conquest and battle, are now ready to fight, to wage war, to ascend the Cangwu Tree. Have you considered the consequences?"
"We call ourselves ssengers of wisdom from heaven, with unparalleled beauty and wisdom, yet you haven’t thought about the consequences at all."
"So orders, once disrupted, can never be restored."
"Once we start internal conflict, living ugly for the sake of survival, even if we win, we’ll fear other clans overthrowing us on the Cangwu Tree."
"Is a lifeti of fear and pain interesting?"
"When we begin this path of internal strife, we’ll beco eternal sinners of our entire race civilization, changing the Butterfly Race because of us."
"Lost purity, lost faith, the heart becos ugly, the little insects won’t fly into the flas, won’t pursue beauty, won’t bravely face the fires of civilization."
"Your actions will make the little insects of hundreds of millions of years hence all beco ugly, unable to break cocoons into butterflies."
"All of you present are masters of threads, but so threads should not be touched, nor even thought about!!"
At this, his telekinesis ford a murderous aura that engulfed the entire palace.
"You brainless ones have set a bad precedent that will only make your descendants ugly caterpillars, full of spikes, dirty and lowly, always thinking of internal strife, never erging in beautiful colors again."
"Too much greed will make us lose the backbone of our race, lose our beauty."
He looked furiously at the courtiers who followed him.
"You angels! Now, you have forgotten your ancestors, each one ugly beyond description, stinking beyond asure!"
His thoughts surged, his sword pointing to the outside square,
"The beauty we should pursue should turn into heroic statues, forever standing in that outside square."
"Preserved on murals, in epics, in ballads, for posterity to witness our beautiful brilliance."
"Eternal in a mont."
"Eternal youth."
Insect Thirteen’s powerful voice suddenly beca gentle,
"This is true beauty."
The entire hall was extraordinarily quiet.
They quietly watched that Angel King, who radiated a powerful aura, captivating the hearts of the butterflies.
A single glance made them extrely fearful.
A segnt of conversation made them feel deeply guilty and extrely afraid.
They were digging out their roots, breaking the backbone of the race.
Insect Thirteen pointed to the butterfly statue of the Prophet behind him,
"The late emperor bestowed wisdom upon us."
"The Prophet taught us knowledge."
"Poetry, books, rites, and morals are to make us good at thinking, not morally corrupted."
"We are angels, aren’t we?"
Insect Thirteen’s voice suddenly weakened, lightly sighing, "And I, am the Angel King, the most beautiful creature in the world."
"It shouldn’t be, you shouldn’t have..."
The voice suddenly changed.
"All ministers heed my command."
A sudden solemnity spread below, waiting for instructions.
"Blazing Angels, Throne Angels, Power Angels, Powerful Angels... intending to rebel, harm the nation and citizens, intending to commit a sin for the ages, to destroy the spirit of the Butterfly Race. Considering their founding accomplishnts, all are stripped of titles and placed under house arrest."
With the sound of the voice, all the War Angels below with intentions of rebellion suddenly fell silent, feeling as if their spirits were scattered, almost collapsing to the ground.
A half day later.
After placing all ministers under house arrest, the palace was completely empty.
Beside him, Wise Angel, Insect Thirty, spoke softly, "Do we really have to do this? Clearly, we can..."
Insect Thirteen looked at his forr war comrades, then glanced at his consort Insect Seventy-seven, the Multi-handed Butterfly, and beca completely serious towards the three comrades, "Don’t bring it up again."
Insect Thirteen took a deep breath, filled with a sense of helplessness.
He vaguely guessed that perhaps one of his three comrades had secretly signaled, leading to today’s incident.
But here, there were his ritorious ministers.
His wife.
His children.
His comrades of life and death.
He could not kill.
Nor could he expose it.
The Angel King turned around, a sigh followed.
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