Chapter 61: First Fortress 13

“Are you sure it’s her?” The Saint Lord rose to her feet and descended the steps.

“Absolutely!” Wen Yewang declared with ironclad certainty, yanking Min He—who stood beside her—forward. “We pulled out all the stops, but even the Wild Dog under Min He’s command couldn’t sniff her out. Who else but Gu Xianqing could pull off something like that?”

The Saint Lord’s gaze shifted to Min He.

Swept by those deep brown eyes, Min He’s back stiffened. She immediately straightened up. “My apologies, Saint Lord. I failed to carry out my du—”

Her apology had barely begun when the Saint Lord raised a hand, silencing her.

Min He dared not say another word. She lowered her head, gritted her teeth, and stood mutely to the side—no one had the leisure to nitpick her achievements or failures. Her input simply didn’t matter.

Wen Yewang paced excitedly around the chamber. “If you don’t believe me, Saint Lord, I’ve got a mountain of reasons.”

“Let’s hear them.”

“First off, we checked the Morgue. Guess what? The glass wasn’t shattered—it had turned into a fluid state!” Wen Yewang’s excitement bubbled over. “Most of the guards don’t even know Babel Tower’s glass has that property.”

She jabbed a finger at the ceiling, then dropped her gaze to the floor. “Gu Xianqing could be hiding right here, or here, or behind this very wall. That’s why we can’t catch her. She knows Ivyen City’s tech better than we do, Saint Lord. On this Wasteland, she’s the only one who could!”

Her agitation had tousled the hair at her temples. She still wore the fire-scorched robes, the charred smoke stains lingering on the mad professor’s body and face.

Gu Xianqing’s arrival thrilled Wen Yewang to no end. To her, Gu Xianqing was a treasure trove, a subject worthy of endless study.

In stark contrast to Wen Yewang’s fervor, the Saint Lord’s expression grew deadly serious, a subtly bulging vein at her temple betraying her restrained fury. Her eyes swept over the spots Wen Yewang had pointed to at random, as if Gu Xianqing might actually materialize there.

To the Saint Lord, Gu Xianqing’s infiltration of the First Fortress was a declaration of war—a dangerous warning.

Gu Xianqing was no ordinary person.

They all knew that full well.

The Saint Lord recalled her first encounter with Gu Xianqing once more.

The young woman had stood brazenly at the entrance to the shrine, chin raised to the door guards. “People from the Lower City say your leader is some brutish lady. Where is she? I want to see her.”

Naive, arrogant, and rudely demanding justice for the Lower City folk. Their conversation hadn’t gone smoothly, so the First Fortress had responded wrongly, underestimating the true abilities of this far-traveled stranger.

Gu Xianqing had made a request—or rather, a plea for help.

It was so absurd that the Saint Lord rejected it on the spot and handed the woman with her unique Nestsoul over to Wen Yewang.

Then Wen Yewang had thoroughly enraged Gu Xianqing.

Three days later, Gu Xianqing effortlessly triggered a Shell Membrane failure in District 21. Only then did the Saint Lord realize they had personally pushed Gu Xianqing into opposition. From that moment, they had gained a formidable enemy.

But if they could go back to that conversation, the Saint Lord would still refuse Gu Xianqing’s request—she had wanted to borrow Ivyen City’s weapons and army, after all.

What a colossal joke.

No leader would cede military command to a stranger.

The Saint Lord turned. “Did Gu Xianqing come alone?”

“Not entirely clear. We haven’t even caught a glimpse of her shadow.” Wen Yewang shrugged. “But with her abilities, she doesn’t need backup. Who could even keep pace with her? The First Fortress doesn’t have many like that.”

“Professor Wen.” The Saint Lord frowned. “Show some restraint. You’re overrating her.”

“It’s the truth. You may deny my assessment all you want, Saint Lord, but I still believe Gu Xianqing is God’s Apostle! You already know—there’s something different in her blood, something unlike ours. I drew ten vials from her, ran seventeen neural stimulation tests. Her mental strength far exceeds our S-rank benchmarks.” Mentioning the data she still preserved sent Wen Yewang into another frenzy.

Her words even spooked Min He, who silently backed away. The young officer hadn’t seen this so-called “enemy” yet, but Professor Wen’s behavior was downright chilling.

Wen Yewang continued her “praise” for Gu Xianqing. “Oh, and she has an incredible pain tolerance. Did you know? During testing, I cranked it up to level ten pain, and she still managed to smile at me lucidly.”

Wen Yewang longed to see that smile again. It was like a blooming poppy—unforgettable after one glance.

“If only I’d tested whether she could revive after her Nestsoul died. But as you know, I lost her completely, along with two of my best assistants.” Wen Yewang’s face fell in disappointment. “The third batch of test subjects infused with her genes failed too. Such a pity. If we could perfect that tech, we’d grant second lives to so many. The First Fortress would have more manpower.”

The Saint Lord remained silent.

Wen Yewang’s mindset was worlds apart from a warrior’s—this fanatical scientist only felt elation at Gu Xianqing’s appearance.

But the Saint Lord was focused on the threat she posed.

Gu Xianqing had slipped through Babel Tower like it was empty, destroying the shielding device they’d painstakingly built. It was a message: Your defenses are worthless.

Someone like that would never be the Saint Lord’s ally—only her enemy, until the day she died.

The Saint Lord couldn’t fathom why Gu Xianqing had vanished for five years only to resurface now. All signs pointed to a calculated assault.

At this critical juncture, they faced endless crises: devastating wartime losses, Shell Membrane failures, Bone Eaters lurking hungrily. And now this elusive Gu Xianqing, who could burrow into their minds at any moment, steal and destroy everything.

Including her warriors and people.

Panic stirred in the Saint Lord—the First Fortress’s security was under dire threat.

Unfortunately, Tina was no longer in this hall, leaving the Saint Lord without anyone suitable to consult.

“Are patrols still ongoing?” the Saint Lord asked.

“Yes, all arranged,” Min He replied. If the intruder’s scent from last night’s breach into District 21 belonged to Gu Xianqing, she had it memorized now. “Reinforced troops on every floor, Nestsouls and Innate Talents on standby. Not even a mosquito could slip through.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Wen Yewang sighed. “It’s been three hours since the breach. Gu Xianqing might already be gone from Babel Tower. Saint Lord, aren’t we sending troops to hunt her down?”

“We are.” The Saint Lord’s voice sharpened. “Min He, summon your superior for orders.”

Min He’s superior was a certain Lieutenant—competent enough, though her loyalty and reflexes fell short of Tina’s. She was usable in a pinch, and with the manpower shortage, the Saint Lord planned to groom her.

“Yes!” Min He bowed her head in acknowledgment. She turned, her fists clenched at her sides. After a few steps toward the door, she halted abruptly.

“Something else?”

“Reporting, Saint Lord.” Min He pivoted on her heel, lifting her head. Ambition finally blazed in her eyes. “I’ve memorized the intruder’s scent. If you trust me, I’ll stake my life on capturing Gu Xianqing.”

Everyone caught the implication—Min He was volunteering.

After entering the shrine twice today, only to be interrupted both times mid-report, Min He now lifted her chin and made her pitch.

She wasn’t lacking in skill or sharpness. During new recruit oaths, her comprehensive scores had been highlighted. Years later, she was a candidate for the youngest lieutenant.

But while Captain Sora held her post, the Saint Lord’s eyes overlooked all others; orders always filtered through superiors.

Min He’s luck had been poor—her accomplishments dismissed as trivial.

This made five times she’d seen the Saint Lord, counting today.

And twice today, she’d been sidelined as irrelevant.

Min He hoped the next time she stood here, she could have a full conversation with the Saint Lord.

She wanted the Saint Lord to see her.

“I guarantee it,” Min He said, muscles taut. “If I fail, kill me anytime.”

Wen Yewang had been spectating the drama, but catching Min He’s pleading glance, she decided to back the young woman. “Good idea, Saint Lord. Min He’s Innate Talent is solid. Worth considering.”

The Saint Lord finally regarded the young officer squarely.

She peered into Min He’s eyes, spotting the fierce, youthful ambition burning there.

Min He had surely done her homework—she knew the Saint Lord didn’t disdain ambition in her subordinates.

On the contrary, she admired that sharp edge, far preferable to flattery or meek restraint. It was exactly the kind of soldier the First Fortress needed.

Min He had weighed it carefully too: Captain’s seat vacant, crisis looming—a prime chance to shine.

So she spoke up.

Was it despicable scheming?

No—the Saint Lord needed people ruthless enough to seize every opportunity and claw their way up.

The Saint Lord replied, “If you’re not up to it, I will kill you.”

Min He’s lashes trembled. “As you wish.”

“Very well—no need for your superior.” The Saint Lord’s aura surged. She strode back up the steps, her red velvet cloak billowing with the motion.

Her command boomed: “For the next five days, Min He holds top-priority troop deployment authority. Assemble your team within two hours. Citywide manhunt for Gu Xianqing. If Heroic Spirits Society lacks manpower, post bounties—hire Lower City mercenaries and Scavengers.”

“Yes!”

“Wen Yewang, release your archived data: Gu Xianqing’s height, build, strength, agility—to Heroic Spirits Society. I want one of two outcomes: capture her, or kill her on sight.”

Wen Yewang’s eyes gleamed. She sidled up to Min He. “Hey, try to take her alive.”

Min He saluted smartly and marched out with newfound swagger.

Now alone in the hall with Wen Yewang, a brief silence fell before they turned to the secret project.

“Any damage to the Cabin Cocoon Project?”

“None—I checked. All clear.” Wen Yewang sobered. “But Kazama Asagiri’s memories have gaps. She completed the scheduled check, but claims no memory of it—thought she overslept.”

“As expected.” The Saint Lord wasn’t surprised. “Gu Xianqing breached the hidden floors again.”

Last time, Gu Xianqing had stolen a Cabin Cocoon. They’d learned their lesson, secretly relocating the higher-viability ones to deeper hiding spots—seven in total.

The Saint Lord warned Wen Yewang, “Guard those Cabin Cocoons. Only you and I know their locations. Any issues, it’s on you.”

“Got it.”

The Saint Lord pulled out a chair and sat. “Professor Wen, why does Gu Xianqing keep targeting those Cabin Cocoons?”

“No idea.” Wen Yewang sighed. “I thought, as God’s Apostle, she’d come for the Divine Blood results. But no—five years ago, she took one Cabin Cocoon and left alone. Its corpse was dumped in the Moat. Didn’t survive.”

If the Cabin Cocoons weren’t her goal, then who was? Had she succeeded?

The Saint Lord pondered, eyes downcast. Moments later, she looked up. “Remember a researcher named An?”

“An Ning?”

“Yes. An Ning.”

Wen Yewang chuckled. “How could I forget? Of the thirty-three scientists hunting Divine Blood, she was the only survivor. She brought it back. These Cabin Cocoons owe her plenty.”

The Saint Lord narrowed her eyes. “Was An Ning a cell provider for the Cabin Cocoon Project? Did she contribute to the new human cultivation?”

“No—the providers were Embedded Spirit Bodies. She wasn’t; couldn’t fuse Sleeper genes.” Wen Yewang paused. “You think Gu Xianqing’s after her?”

“They’ve crossed paths at least. I suspect something happened to An Ning we don’t know about.”

“Impossible.” Wen Yewang laughed. “An Ning died of illness twenty years ago. Gu Xianqing was just a kid then. No way she’d come looking after more than a decade.”

“Maybe I’m overthinking.” The Saint Lord massaged her temples. “It just hit me—when An Ning returned alone with the Divine Blood and handed it over, she asked me something. ‘Are you sure we can bear the worst outcome?’”

The Saint Lord paused for a moment. “Just now, when Gu Xianqing came up, I remembered a detail. After I refused to provide her with weapons, she asked me the exact same question.”

The Saint Lord looked up. “Am I prepared to face the consequences?”

…

Meanwhile, An He and Gu Xianqing had already left Babel Tower.

“You have to give me an explanation,” An He said, still hung up on the Cabin Cocoon business.

“I once stole a Cabin Cocoon,” Gu Xianqing said casually, as if it were nothing. “But she wasn’t the one I was looking for. I couldn’t take her with me at the time, so I left her in District 21. To cover my tracks, I dumped a corpse into the Moat. Wen Yewang thought she was dead.”

“She’s still alive?”

“Alive,” Gu Xianqing said. “I can still locate her dreams. By now, she should have grown up without any issues.”

The two returned to Lower City, where the entire city was under martial law.

“Why did you steal a Cabin Cocoon?”

Gu Xianqing rubbed her temples. “I can’t tell you that.”

An He fell silent for a second. After entering Babel Tower and learning about the Cabin Cocoon Project, she realized Gu Xianqing knew far more than she had imagined.

But Gu Xianqing never explained things proactively. She guided An He to make contact with First Fortress, even to see those Cabin Cocoons firsthand, yet she always skirted the crucial details.

Could it be related to Divine Blood too?

Patrol Squads suddenly multiplied on the streets, forcing the two to dodge as they went. By afternoon, Gu Xianqing’s wanted posters were plastered everywhere.

“First Fortress is pretty efficient,” An He said as she tore down a cheaply printed sheet from the wall. The ink hadn’t even dried yet, capturing Gu Xianqing’s brilliant smile.

Gu Xianqing snatched the paper and quickly scanned the listed features, sighing. “Looks like I’ll have to stick with you in First Fortress for a while. Take good care of me from now on.”

Who’s taking care of whom?

“I’ll do my best,” An He said, too lazy to argue. “Picking up where we left off—if that Cabin Cocoon wasn’t the one you’re looking for, then who is?”

“Guess.” Gu Xianqing flashed an enigmatic smile, squinting at An He, but offered no answer.

They returned to the residential building where Lola lived. Lola clutched two hunks of hard bread—supplies from who knew where. “I heard they’re rounding people up, but it’s not you.”

Lola eyed the distance suspiciously. Behind An He, Gu Xianqing leaned against a pillar in a hooded cloak. Lola spotted the strands of hair peeking from under the brim. “That’s the woman from the posters. Where’d you pick her up?”

“Met her on the road.” An He was astonished that Lola had pegged Gu Xianqing as the fugitive at a glance—and even more surprised that Gu Xianqing made no effort to hide.

Lola said warily, “What are we now? A fugitive squad?”

An He replied, “Wanted Criminal Alliance.”

Every one of them deserved their own wanted poster.

Lola tugged at the corner of her mouth and handed over half a loaf. “Oh, right—the Scavenger you had me look into yesterday? I ran into her when I went out today. That little girl almost killed someone.”