Reflected in those crimson eyes was Mo's face, stark white with agony.
A glistening thread of saliva hung from Ye's lips. She stared, captivated by Mo, the obstacle between her and the promised 'feast,' and slowly, a look of childish betrayal and furious indignation bloomed across her deranged face.
"Why?" Her voice, raw and shrill, brimmed with bewildered fury. "Why won't you let me feast on him? Am I not… your sister?"
She released her bite, letting the blood well from Mo's shoulder in a sickening, rhythmic gush. The sweet, metallic tang drove her to new heights of frenzy, yet her crimson gaze remained, fixed not on Mo, but piercing through her, pinning Xiang Lie with a primal, unmasked avarice.
"Why are you all like this? Why can't you kill? Why! I'm so hungry… I'm starving! I want to eat! I want to EAT!!!" Her deranged shriek tore through the entire facility, each word a jagged rasp of fingernails on metal, an agonizing shiver down the spine.
"Damn you!" She snapped her head back, her gaze snapping to the wavering Mo, her features twisting into something utterly bestial. "If you won't let me feast on *him*… then I'll feast on *you*!"
With that, she opened her maw, a cavern of teeth and saliva, and lunged for Mo's jugular, aiming to tear it out.
In that razor-thin fraction of a second—
*CLANG!* A sharp, ringing strike of metal exploded through the air!
A long spear, sleek and black as night, its tip glinting with lethal cold, materialized as if from thin air, slotting with pinpoint precision directly before Ye's gaping maw, deflecting the fatal bite. Ye's teeth gnashed uselessly against the unyielding shaft, a sickening, bone-jarring grind that made the spine prickle.
As if utterly infuriated by this sudden, immovable obstacle, Ye abandoned her attack. Instead, she seized the spear shaft with both hands, shaking and tearing at it with animalistic ferocity, a guttural snarl rumbling deep in her throat.
The other end of the spear was held, rock-steady, in a single hand.
It was Xiao Lin! Her face was still the picture of gentle serenity, but the calm warmth in her eyes had vanished, replaced by a chilling glint of lethal intent and an iron resolve. The fierce, almost predatory aura radiating from her was a stark contrast to the demure woman who had so politely shown Xiang Lie to his room yesterday.
"Xiang Lie! Take Mo and go! Now!" Xiao Lin's voice was sharp and urgent, each word cutting through the chaos like a knife.
Xiang Lie snapped back from his stunned daze, watching Xiao Lin, who stood unmoving, a solitary bulwark against the berserk Ye. "What about you?" he asked instinctively.
"Don't worry about me! Just go!" Fine beads of sweat pricked Xiao Lin's forehead, betraying the immense strain she was under.
Xiang Lie wasted no more time. He scooped up the near-unconscious Mo, cradling her soft form securely in his rock-steady arms, and turned to flee, his powerful strides heavy yet swift.
After a few strides, he couldn't resist a worried glance back. Several more silver-haired girls, wielding an assortment of bizarre, elegant weapons, surged in from various directions, swiftly joining the fray. A petite girl with a massive metal shield spearheaded the assault, creating openings for her comrades. Another wielded two long chains, which coiled like living serpents around Ye's thrashing limbs. Their coordination was seamless, a testament to rigorous training. *They'd be alright… wouldn't they?*
His mind eased somewhat, and he continued his frantic sprint away from the cacophony of battle, Mo cradled securely in his arms.
"Hey! Big guy! Over here!" Just as Xiang Lie's sense of direction threatened to fail him, a familiar voice called out from the doorway of a side room.
It was Ling, gesturing to him from her wheelchair.
Without a moment's hesitation, Xiang Lie bolted inside, Mo still clutched in his arms. Behind him, a few younger girls, who had rushed to the scene but were too young to join the fight, scurried in after them, their faces a mixture of fear and profound concern.
With a resonant *THUD*, the heavy metal door slammed shut behind them, sealing off the cacophony of the outside world – the blaring alarms and the clangorous sounds of battle.
The room was eerily quiet, reminiscent of a high-tech command center. A massive screen, positioned directly opposite the door, displayed the ongoing battle from multiple real-time camera feeds. The younger girls who had followed them in immediately clustered before the screen, their small hands clasped tight, eyes wide with a mixture of dread and morbid fascination as they watched the live combat feed.
Xiang Lie carried Mo swiftly to an unoccupied medical cot in the corner of the room, gently lowering her onto it. Mo's face was ashen, bloodless, and while the wound on her shoulder had ceased its active bleeding, the skin around it had taken on an alarming, mottled blue-purple hue.
He watched Ling, who was utterly engrossed by the screen, but couldn't help interrupting her focus. "Mo… she's hurt! Do you have any medicine here?"
Ling didn't even turn her head, merely casting a dismissive glance at Mo on the cot. Her voice held its usual, detached amusement. "She'll be fine. They don't die that easily. Weapon Girls have remarkable recovery rates. Your little sweetheart will be good as new after a nap."
"She's not my—" A furious blush suffused Xiang Lie's face. He was about to launch into a vehement denial of any such relationship.
"Big brother." A timid voice interrupted him.
Xiang Lie turned his head to find the younger girls had, at some point, clustered around him, their attention no longer on the screen but fixed, uniformly, on him. Or rather, on his neck and shoulders.
The girl at the forefront, no older than twelve or thirteen, tilted her small face up. Her wide, silver eyes, identical to Mo's, shone with a complex light—a blend of curiosity, reverence, and fervent longing. She mustered her courage, extending a slender finger to tentatively point at Xiang Lie's right trapezius. "Is this… Big Brother," she whispered, "is this where… Sister Mo said… is the Throne of the Soul?"
Xiang Lie stiffened, then an indescribable surge of pride swelled within him. Mo! Truly his inaugural disciple! She was already evangelizing his 'Throne Philosophy'!
He instinctively straightened his posture, ensuring his two prized muscles looked even more magnificent. "Indeed!" he boomed, nodding emphatically, a beatific, mentor-like smile gracing his face.
At his affirmative answer, the girls' eyes glowed even brighter, as if they had gazed upon a legendary holy relic.
Another girl sidled closer, her voice barely a whisper. "Then… could we… could we just touch them? Just for a little bit…"
"Yeah, big brother, we promise we won't hurt them!"
"They look… so powerful…"
The girls chirped and buzzed around him, their gazes burning with an intense fervor, like a litter of kittens discovering catnip, practically engraving '*We want to touch them*' onto their eager faces.
Xiang Lie, flustered by the unexpected adoration, felt a deep blush creep up his rugged face. He waved his hands frantically. "N-no… you can't just… randomly touch them…"
He had a sudden, alarming premonition that if he stayed any longer, Ah Zuo and Ah You might very well lose their 'sacred honor.'
"Ahem!" Just as Xiang Lie found himself in this peculiar predicament, Ling's perfectly ill-timed cough rescued him.
As if granted a divine reprieve, he retreated two swift steps, putting distance between himself and his fervent admirers, and redirected his full attention to Commander Ling.
However, the moment he saw Ling's expression, his heart plummeted.
Ling had fully turned, her gaze riveted to the main screen. Her delicate features, usually marked by a faint, cynical amusement, were now utterly drained of color, her expression grim beyond anything he had seen before.
"This isn't good." Her voice was barely a whisper, yet carried an almost imperceptible tremor.
"They're in serious trouble."