The Omega Becomes The Zerg Queen - Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Royal Jelly

As a female, the medical officer was not as strongly affected by the scent. He snatched his stinger tail back from the twins and gave them an annoyed glare.

The twins’ usually clear violet eyes had turned into slit pupils. Their fair faces were distorted with suppressed desire, veins popped on their arms, and their sharp nails dug into their palms, causing blue blood to drip onto the floor.

They were clearly on the brink of losing control.

Once a Zerg in heat loses control, they possess extraordinary destructive power and lust—and the King’s current condition was unknown.

They could not be allowed near her!

Even knowing the vast gap in combat power between them, the elderly medical officer spread his arms to block the way. “Stop. You cannot approach the King in this state.”

His sharp reprimand snapped the twins back to their senses. They looked at each other, seeing mirrored smiles of bitter frustration on their distorted faces.

They had just reached adulthood and were at the critical stage of gender transition—the peak of their physical vigor. They couldn’t withstand the scent; they had reacted almost the instant they smelled it.

The twins looked down; their wide skirt-hems hid the physical evidence of their arousal. Zerg possess incredible stamina, and this “tide of passion” would not recede quickly. If they continued forward, they weren’t sure they could restrain themselves. They refused to risk the Queen’s safety, and even more, they refused to let her see them in such an ugly, undignified state.

The two nodded. “We will stay here to ensure no other Zerg enter by mistake.”

…

When the medical officer reached the sleeping quarters, he was horrified by what he saw.

Lord Lucius—the High Priest, First Legion Commander, and the most noble, refined, and gentle figure in the heart of every Zerg—was collapsed by the Queen’s bed. His handsome face was resting against a pair of exquisite indoor shoes. He was flushed, his priest robes were disarrayed, and a gruesome wound marred his well-defined abdominal muscles.

Stuck in that wound was a long black blade. Looking up the length of the blade, the one holding it was the usually steady and reliable Second Legion Commander, Zephyros.

That blade, known as the “Blade of the Zerg,” was being gripped tightly by Zephyros. The narrow blade had pierced through both of their midsections, pinning them to the spot. Blackish-red blood bubbled from the wounds, staining their robes crimson.

Both men had the same dazed expression, their damp pupils clouded as if by mist.

They had arrived earlier and were closer to the Queen. When her pheromones diffused, they had nowhere to retreat. Quetzalcoatls (Feathered Serpents) are a race of heavy desire; Lucius, usually self-controlled, became hyper-sensitive once he fell into lust. The moment he inhaled the scent, he lost his focus and stumbled toward the Queen’s bed.

To prevent an accident, Zephyros—while a shred of sanity remained—decided to use his blade to physically end any possibility of movement for both of them.

The moment the medical officer entered, their gold and emerald eyes locked onto him instantly. Unlike the previous misty, longing gaze, the look they gave him now was the cold, cruel, inorganic stare of apex predators.

“Use the medical pod first,” Lucius rasped.

Locked in the stare of the two most powerful beings, the old medical officer felt like a small animal cornered by beasts. Shaking, he pulled a medical pod from his spatial button. The repair fluid inside could heal, but more importantly, the sealed space would block the scent.

Zerg are born for war and rarely fear injury; being bathed in blood usually only increases their killing intent. Thus, almost no one carries a medical pod except for medical officers.

The snow-white pod transformed into a transparent ellipsoid upon contact, enveloping Su Lili and cutting off her pheromones. As the seductive sweetness faded, Zephyros and Lucius gradually regained their senses.

They pulled repair fluid from their spatial buttons and gulped it down. Their exhausted bodies slowly regained strength. Zephyros flexed his fingers and pulled the long blade out of their bodies. The wounds squirmed and began to close; high-level Zerg possess incredible healing factors, and this injury was nothing compared to the Queen’s safety.

“What’s the verdict?” Zephyros asked, walking to the pod.

Lucius rubbed his nose against the shoes one last time, savoring her scent with his eyes closed. Zephyros’s voice snapped him out of it. His cheeks reddened, feeling ashamed of his reckless behavior. A man with a “monstrous” body like his had no right to be near the King.

But to him, the King was like an unreachable eternal star in the galaxy—a powerful gravity storm that attracted all living things while threatening to tear anything that got too close to shreds. If I am destined never to possess her, is it okay to at least have a memento?

While the others weren’t looking, he moved his fingers and hid the shoes inside his spatial button.

…

The red electric light of the scanner swept slowly and meticulously over Su Lili’s body. Data scrolled rapidly across the display. The old medical officer watched the data in silence.

“Based on the scan results, the King’s body is very weak,” he answered, opening other data sets. “These are the physical records of previous Queens. Compared to them at the same juvenile stage, our new King is significantly weaker. If a normal juvenile Queen is Grade A, our King is assessed at Grade E.”

As a renowned warrior race, even low-level Zerg are at least Grade D as juveniles. High-level Zerg are born Grade B or higher.

Grade E was as fragile as a bubble to the Zerg.

“How could the King’s body be like this?” the two commanders asked anxiously.

“Perhaps because she was born on a desolate planet,” the medical officer mused, stroking his long beard. “History has no record of a Queen born outside the Home Planet. Every Royal Egg is nurtured by the Brood Mother from the start. Our King lacked this process. She is too unique.”

“However,” he continued, pointing at specific rows of data, “while she is weak, she shouldn’t be unconscious. Zerg are naturally robust. She is weaker than her predecessors, but normal life should be fine; otherwise, she wouldn’t have been able to hatch. If the cause isn’t physical, then…”

“What about her mind?” The twins entered quickly, only daring to come in after the scent vanished. “Previous Queens grew up under the protection of the Brood Mother and the Temple, only meeting subjects and using mental soothing after reaching adulthood.”

“But our King is so benevolent,” Lucius frowned. “She used mental soothing for thousands of soldiers while still a juvenile. Could this have burdened her mind?”

The medical officer thought for a moment and nodded. “It’s possible. Though she shows no signs of ‘mental over-exhaustion,’ the scale of that soothing was massive for a juvenile. But the equipment on this ship is limited. We can only examine her Mental Sea once we return to the Home Planet.”

No one could rest easy without knowing why she was unconscious. The room was deathly silent for the five-hour journey back.

…

Zerg Home Planet: The Medical Institute

Medical officers were already standing by. In the examination room, red and blue lights flashed incessantly alongside the pings of various instruments. Eventually, the Chief Medical Officer emerged with a thick stack of reports.

“There are two reasons for the Queen’s coma.”

“First, physical weakness. The Brood Mother provides a special ‘Royal Milk’ to ensure the healthy growth of Royal Eggs. The newborn Queen did not receive this and is naturally malnourished.”

“Second, her Mental Sea. Although her body is weak, her Mental Sea is broader than any Queen in history. Previous Queens rarely soothed more than a few soldiers at once, even as adults. Our King soothed thousands by instinct alone. Furthermore, her mental power is different. While previous Queens only possessed non-aggressive ‘healing’ and ‘soothing’ abilities, our King’s power is highly aggressive. This isn’t visible on the surface, but the scanners don’t lie.”

The Chief Medical Officer pointed to a chart. “This is the primary cause of the coma. A weak body cannot control such aggressive mental power. It’s like pouring boiling water into a glass bottle that isn’t heat-resistant; there is a risk of it shattering at any moment. The coma is a self-defense mechanism—the Mental Sea is calmer while unconscious.”

Ceral and Damian’s eyes welled with tears. “We finally waited for a new King… how could this happen?”

Zephyros’s face darkened, a storm brewing in his eyes. He stared at the medical officer. “What is the solution?”

Lucius adjusted his monocle, the light reflecting off the lens. His tone was gentle but brook no argument. “There must be a way, right?”

Stared down by the two most powerful beings in the Zerg race, the Chief Medical Officer suppressed his urge to run and explained the treatment.

“The treatment targets both points.”

“For the body: when she wakes, she needs to visit the Brood Mother. Even if it’s late, if the Brood Mother senses her and secretes ‘Royal Milk,’ she will receive the necessary nutrients.”

If… if… They couldn’t leave her health to such a vague hypothesis!

“And if the Brood Mother can’t produce it?”

“The worst-case scenario is that the Brood Mother fails. If that happens, we have found a substitute for ‘Royal Milk.’ It won’t be as effective, but it will prevent her condition from worsening.”

“What is it?” they asked in unison.

“It is the ‘Honey-Brew’ of the Bee-type,” the officer explained. “If a high-level Bee-type chooses to retain their Honey-Chamber as their lineage trait, they can produce ‘Honey-Brew.’ The higher the rank of the Bee-type, the better the brew. SSS-grade honey has 80% the effect of Royal Milk. SS-grade has 50%, and S-grade has 20%.”

However, most Zerg are warlike. Bee-types usually choose stingers for deterrence, thin wings for speed, or compound eyes for observation. Almost no Bee-type would choose a “Honey-Chamber”—a trait they saw as useless for combat.

Finding a Bee-type with a Honey-Chamber was hard. Finding a high-level one was nearly impossible.

“Is there no other way?” Ceral asked, her voice trembling.

“We can also strengthen her physique through exercise. We suggest a gradual physical education curriculum. But,” the officer shook his head, “that only treats the symptoms, not the root.”

A high-level Bee warrior with a Honey-Chamber…

An image flashed through Zephyros’s mind: Ferran.