The Fake Son Wants to Live [BL]

Chapter 209: Chapter 209 - Alien ancestors

Nansich trailed behind Jian, skipping a little as he weaved through the dim corridors of the ruined ship. The walls pulsed faintly under the low light, and the hum of residual alien energy made the air feel strangely charged.

”These Dulishthin aliens,” he started, turning to Li Wang beside him, ”they’re really something, huh? I mean, look at this ship. Look at the floor. This isn’t normal metal—it’s, like... alive.”

Li Wang adjusted his cracked glasses again, frowning slightly. ”Alive or not, it’s still full of danger. Don’t touch too much.”

But Nansich wasn’t really listening. His eyes caught on a large panel along the wall. It was lined with racks—some had been emptied by Xing Yu earlier, but several strange and intricate weapons remained, quietly gleaming in the low light. Unlike the weapons Xing had taken, these were stored differently—displayed almost reverently behind thin sheets of translucent plating.

”Whoa...”

He stepped forward, breath catching as his eyes fell on a single weapon.

A sword.

It was elegant. Not bulky or cruel-looking like many of the grayling armaments. It was slightly thinner than Jian’s blade, its edges curved delicately but still wickedly sharp. A single crimson tassel hung from the handle, swaying ever so gently as he approached. The hilt was engraved in smooth, swirling patterns that caught the faint light.

Something about it... looked familiar.

His eyes narrowed.

Wait...

He turned slightly, peering at Jian across the room. Jian’s black sword was strapped firmly to his back now, and though it looked heavier and more brutal in design, there was something—some echo—between the two blades.

Cocking his head, Nansich looked back at the elegant sword, then again at Jian.

Then back to the sword.

And grinned.

Shrugging, he reached up and slid it out of the wall mount with a dramatic flourish. It was surprisingly light in his hands.

”Are you taking that?” Li Wang asked cautiously, eyeing the weapon as he inched closer. ”It looks... dangerous.”

”All is fair in love and war,” Nansich replied with a mischievous smirk, hugging the sword against his chest like it was a teddy bear.

Li Wang didn’t look convinced. ”Just be careful. That thing doesn’t look ornamental.”

Nansich gave him a wink. ”I’m always careful.”

He turned the blade in his hand, the tassel fluttering gently in the musty air. The handle felt warm—almost like it was alive.

Almost like it recognized him.

Xing Yu crouched near the mangled remains of a grayling weapons rack, carefully sorting through rows of dormant explosives and pulsing hand-held blasters. His gloves were stained with tar-black alien blood, but his eyes were sharp and methodical, scanning each piece for usability. Beside him, Varon worked in silence, dismantling a heavy shield-generator with swift, practiced fingers.

”Take anything we can retrofit,” Xing Yu muttered, tossing a broken power cell aside. ”They have been evolving again. Their shielding was at least 12% stronger than last quarter’s batch.”

Varon gave a short nod, but his attention wavered as his gaze swept further down the corridor. Something had caught his eye—he froze mid-motion, staring with increasing focus at the weapon cradled in Nansich’s arms.

It wasn’t just a sword.

It was that sword.

The curve, the crimson tassel, the markings burned along the hilt—he recognized it instantly. That blade wasn’t just similar to Jian’s. It was its twin.

Varon’s head shot up, his entire stance shifting. He moved forward at once, voice low but tight with urgency.

”Where did you find that?” he asked sharply.

Nansich blinked, then instinctively backed up a step, hugging the sword tighter to his chest.

”It’s mine!” he declared, quickly ducking behind Jian like a startled animal hiding behind a tree. ”He’s trying to steal my sword, Jian, help me! Look at him!”

Jian looked over his shoulder, more confused than anything. ”What?”

”It’s not your sword,” Varon said, now standing just in front of them. His tone was no longer casual. ”That’s a Farian warrior’s ceremonial blade. Where did you get it?”

Nansich pouted harder, arms wrapped protectively around the weapon. ”What’s the big deal? It’s just a sword! We’re stealing weapons from this ship anyway, aren’t we? You took five whole crates. Let me have one pretty blade.”

”It’s not about quantity.” Varon’s voice was low, cold. ”That sword doesn’t belong here. It was supposed to be lost in a void-collapse a decade ago.”

”Okay, well, maybe the void gave it back,” Nansich muttered. ”I found it. Finder’s keepers, yeah?”

”Give. It. Here.”

”No.”

Varon reached forward, but Jian instinctively stepped between them. ”Wait. Varon. Calm down. Let’s talk first.”

Xing Yu, hearing the tension, stood up and walked over briskly, raising a brow as he looked at the standoff.

”What’s going on?”

”That sword,” Varon said, still glaring at Nansich, ”shouldn’t be here. That’s the Sword of Sael Var—the last Farian void commander of the Western Cluster. He was thought to have disintegrated with it during the fall of Jarnus-4. We lost contact with him ten years ago.”

Xing Yu’s eyes narrowed.

”You’re sure it’s the same sword?”

Varon nodded grimly. ”Positive.”

Xing looked toward Nansich. ”Let me see it.”

Nansich held on tighter, though less defiantly now. He glanced between them, suddenly unsure.

Jian gently tugged at Nansich’s sleeve. ”Nan... just let them check it out,” he said softly.

”But I just wanted a sword...” Nansich muttered, holding it close like a stubborn child clutching his favorite toy. His eyes narrowed at Xing Yu. ”You already have cool swords. Let me have this one! Why do you have to take mine?”

Jian sighed. ”You can probably get it back after. It’s just—this one might be important.”

Nansich huffed and finally loosened his grip, shoving the weapon toward Jian with a scowl. ”Fine. But only because you asked.”

Jian gave him a quick nod of thanks and passed the blade to Xing Yu, who received it carefully, like handling a volatile crystal.

The moment it rested in his palms, Xing’s expression changed. It wasn’t just recognition—it was astonishment. The sword was slender, slightly curved, and forged with a mirrored sheen that shimmered unnaturally in the dim light of the ship’s interior. Its tassel hung limp, but faint light pulsed from the glyphs etched into its surface.

”This is it...” Xing Yu whispered. ”This is definitely Sael Var’s sword.”

Varon, standing close, nodded gravely. ”The weight, the resonance, the hilt balance—everything matches what was archived.”

”But...” Xing Yu’s brows furrowed deeply. ”When I was scanning the ship—when we were searching for tech and weapons—I didn’t see this. Not even a hint of it. There’s no way we missed something like this.”

”Are you saying it just... appeared?” Li Wang asked quietly, adjusting his glasses again.

Xing Yu didn’t answer immediately. He turned the blade slightly, inspecting it under the low ship lights. ”Sael Var—he was said to have the ability to phase between dimensional planes. A gift only inherited by those of pure royal Farian bloodline.”

Jian stiffened.

”He could disappear at will,” Varon added. ”But when he vanished ten years ago, not even our top seekers could trace him. Not even the emperor. All that remained of him was a communication glitch—static, and then silence.”

”And this sword,” Xing continued, ”if it’s bonded... it may have phased out with him, hidden in subspace. The only way it could reappear...”

”...is if someone compatible was near enough to pull it through,” Varon finished.

Everyone looked at Nansich, who blinked innocently.

”What? I was just walking.”

”No,” Xing said quietly, eyes slowly shifting to Jian. ”It wasn’t him.”

Jian blinked. ”Wait—what?”

”You,” Xing said, stepping a bit closer, ”You’re the only one who’s shown signs of resonating with void-based Farian energy.” He turned the sword around and held it upright, the tassel lightly swaying. ”If you’re Sael Var’s blood...”

Everyone’s eyes were on Nansich now.

The boy blinked. ”Why’s everyone staring at me?” he asked, glancing left and right as if something might be stuck to his face. ”What, do I have blood on me? Food? What is it?”

Eren let out a long, amused whistle. ”You might be a descendant of Sael Var. Maybe even related to the royal bloodline,” he said with a teasing smirk. ”Though... looking at you now... you don’t exactly scream ’noble warrior.’”

”What’s that supposed to mean?” Nansich squawked, pointing an indignant finger at Eren. ”I’m totally brave!”

”You also screamed louder than the Grayling,” Eren added with a crooked grin.

”I was buying time with my voice!”

Li Wang rubbed his temples.

Nansich ignored him. ”So this guy—what’s his name, Sailor Var?”

”Sael Var,” Xing Yu corrected calmly.

”Right, him. So he’s like, my great-grandpa or something?” Nansich grinned, puffing out his chest with faux pride.

”No,” Xing Yu said, his voice steady and serious now. ”Sael Var disappeared around ten years ago. There’s no way he had time to... reproduce.” His words were chosen carefully.

”So, I’m not his secret love child?” Nansich pouted dramatically.

Eren snorted.

”It’s more likely,” Xing Yu continued, unfazed, ”that you’re a descendant of the Farian explorers who stayed behind on prehistoric Earth. Some chose not to return during the withdrawal of our observation fleets. We lost contact with them centuries ago.”

”That’s...” Jian muttered, his voice low as he finally spoke, ”...kind of a big deal.”

”Yeah,” Varon added, finally stepping forward, his dark eyes on Nansich. ”Because if you have even a sliver of royal Farian blood... it could explain why the sword reacted to your presence.”

Nansich blinked, gaze trailing from one serious face to another. ”Okay but like, does this mean I get powers? Because I’m totally down for that.”

Jian sighed.

”You may have dormant traits,” Xing Yu admitted, ”but I doubt they’ve developed.”