Chapter 74: First Fortress Part 2

The “talk” had lasted only forty seconds!

An He heard her heartbeat race to its fastest ever, every nerve taut like a violin string, ready to snap.

Beep—

That abrupt mechanical tone nearly stopped her heart. Then, the wall-mounted machine guns fired no more.

Gu Xianqing quickly put distance between her and An He. The three formed a triangle standoff. Gu Xianqing tossed a remote control to the floor, then blasted it with her lowered gun barrel.

An He’s vision flickered. She blinked.

Gu Xianqing still wore that faint smile.

She’d known all along: this room was originally the High Tower’s secret vault. Sekhmet had converted it into a bedroom. Concealed in the walls were countless guns and ammo. This iron-blooded Saint Lord slept nightly amid firepower that could level a building. Truly admirable.

But these were all Ivyen City defaults—and anything default could be controlled by Gu Xianqing. Before coming, she’d naturally “chatted” with the central control room guards in their dreams.

No one spoke. Sekhmet showed no surprise at the wall weapons losing control, her gaze still sharp as ice blades, not even blinking. She must have guessed Gu Xianqing knew this place like the back of her hand. She quickly pressed another button.

The room fell silent for two seconds. Then, an explosive fireball erupted behind Gu Xianqing, flames and shrapnel bursting forth.

Some non-wall-system ammo had detonated!

In that instant, An He foresaw the blast via the Eye of Prophecy. She’d preemptively entered Shatterblade Time and tackled Gu Xianqing. Pinning her down, An He gasped uncontrollably—she’d squeezed in one use of the Eye two seconds prior.

The prophecy: two dead!

Gu Xianqing felt stinging pain sear her left side. Her entire left arm and back shredded by shrapnel. This explosion was beyond her expectations. Sekhmet had wounded her—nearly killed her.

The stench of blood filled the air. Gu Xianqing whipped her head around. An He stared at the corner, eyes wide, gasping roughly—like she’d seen something unbelievable.

Tina was gone.

Vaporized at the explosion’s epicenter.

Madwoman. Madwoman.

The undestroyed black Skeleton Frame instantly reassembled. Sekhmet gave no one time to recover from the shock. That special bone transformed into a heavy machine gun, landing in her hands while still warm with fresh blood.

A figure straight out of a nightmare advanced step by step toward Gu Xianqing, pinned down by An He.

Every gun in the room, now disabled, was suddenly yanked from the walls by an invisible force. They disassembled, then reformed into countless spears that trailed behind Sekhmet. She lowered her head to gaze at the people on the floor, her expression unchanging, silent. Behind her towering frame fluttered a blood-red cape.

…

Sekhmet had already bid Tina farewell.

She’d told her she would prepare a commemorative pocket watch in her honor.

Sekhmet kept two such watches in her drawer—one engraved with Saihelansi on the back, the other with Sekhrena—Renata, the name Tina had borne in her “previous life.”

They had once been family.

Renata had called her “Little Aunt.”

Her sister’s child, Renata, possessed extraordinary Innate Talent and had been groomed as an exploration team member. But she died in the Black Fog at just sixteen.

Sekhmet saw it as an incredibly fortunate outcome. At least Renata wouldn’t witness her aunts turning against each other.

Renata had outshone her mother. After lying in a regeneration pod in the Morgue for two years, she awoke successfully, retaining her exceptional Innate Talent and formidable Nestsoul—with no memories tied to the Sekhmet Family. Sekhmet still had her train with the exploration team for a year to bolster her mental shielding, then kept her close for special cultivation.

This time, the girl had finally grown up.

Sekhmet thought her sister would probably thank her when they met.

That night, Sekhmet carefully bandaged Tina’s wounds—the last injuries she’d suffer as a living person, and the final lessons imparted as an elder.

The words she’d spoken to An He earlier? Sekhmet had once said the same to Tina. But this most favored junior was now addled, no longer able to listen or offer her own insights in agreement.

Living like this held no meaning. Better to die and be reborn. Wen Yewang had full genetic and tissue samples of Tina on file anyway.

As long as Wen Yewang remained, Sekhmet would allow the secret project to continue.

…

Gu Xianqing clutched her arm, her chest heaving violently. She shot Sekhmet a mocking glare. “Killed the sister, then the sister’s daughter. What a loving family.”

An He whipped her head around at those words, glancing incredulously at Sekhmet. This night had shown her the full horror of the Saint Lord. She knew the Saint Lord‘s goals—she hadn’t lied—but this woman’s unyielding ruthlessness, her willingness to use any means for her ends, made her a hundred times more terrifying than Gu Xianqing.

By comparison, An He didn’t know Gu Xianqing’s motives or her bizarre background, but at least she wouldn’t casually swing other people’s bones around.

An He’s gaze fell on that machine gun. If she hadn’t entered the Morgue, she wouldn’t have known what this pitch-black lump in the Saint Lord‘s hands truly was. Now, the Meteor Bone was unrecognizable from its original form.

Sekhmet showed no anger at Gu Xianqing’s taunt. She steadily raised the gun and took aim. Bullet burst from the barrel, and at the same instant, the spears behind her slammed straight into the floor.

Gu Xianqing headbutted toward An He’s lips, breaking free from her restraints in a flash. But her dodge wasn’t fast enough for the weapons. The black bullet grazed her cheek, drawing a thin line of blood. A spear pinned the corner of her clothes; a small patch of fabric on her shoulder tore away with a sharp rip.

Sekhmet began deploying her Innate Talent on a wide scale. The missed spears ripped free from the ground, shattered, and reformed into weapons.

This was what Gu Xianqing truly feared. Such an ability had kept Sekhmet undefeated for years.

Gu Xianqing locked eyes on Sekhmet’s every move. Once she calculated the timing of the Innate Talent, she made her choice without hesitation. She couldn’t stay any longer.

The moment the thought formed, the moment she moved to flee—the thirty-fifth floor, cleared of guards earlier, suddenly echoed with synchronized footsteps. The door burst open. Fully armed soldiers poured in, taking defensive positions along the walls and sealing off Gu Xianqing’s escape.

Min He had arrived with her troops.

She first glanced in surprise at the blood-soaked carpet everywhere, then locked eyes with An He.

As if an unspoken command rang out, both charged at Gu Xianqing simultaneously.

An He realized Sekhmet meant business tonight.

It was too fast—less than twelve hours, and Sekhmet had already launched a full extermination hunt for Gu Xianqing. The efficiency chilled An He to the bone.

Now the room swarmed with people. Gu Xianqing was cornered, with no way out. If Min He and Sekhmet teamed up, An He would lose her chance to go easy on her. An He judged instantly: Gu Xianqing couldn’t die yet.

The two slammed toward Gu Xianqing, seemingly aligned, but both watched each other’s moves, vying for position. An He switched between the Eye of Prophecy and Shatterblade Time, prophetic flashes overlapping with reality in a strobing blur that nearly short-circuited her brain.

In those visions, An He suddenly spotted it: Min He’s Innate Talent could deliver a killing blow to Gu Xianqing!

Gu Xianqing was wounded from the blast. One solid hit from Min He, and she was done!

No time to think. An He’s heart pounded like it would burst from her chest. This was still a life-or-death duel—no room for error. She couldn’t let Min He spot her deliberate interference.

It was next to impossible!

Damn it, why did Gu Xianqing even show up?

An He used Shatterblade Time to close in first. In a blink, Min He surged forward too, this young officer pushing her strength to the limit without falling behind.

Time ticked away. The longer Gu Xianqing stayed, the slimmer her odds. An He grew frantic. Fortunately, Gu Xianqing was secretly coordinating with her, not Min He.

But this cunning woman, seeing An He fight desperately, stopped charging and fell back, using her as a shield.

Fine, An He gritted her teeth. Play it off as coordination. But they couldn’t drag this out—too long, and Sekhmet would notice!

In twenty seconds of chaotic melee, positions shifted wildly. For a moment, it looked like Gu Xianqing was holding her own against two.

The soldiers hesitated to fire, fearing friendly hits. Rifles and guns hovered overhead, waiting to swarm in for the kill.

The air rang with clanging metal, fists thudding into flesh, Sekhmet’s barked orders. More soldiers sealed every exit. Gu Xianqing was backed to the window—no retreat left.

Everyone thought the takedown was a success.

Then Gu Xianqing flashed a faint smile. She snatched the dagger from An He’s hand, holding it low at waist height, spun, and smashed toward a precise spot on the glass. The unbreakable pane shattered. Like a fiery red swallow, Gu Xianqing dove into the night breeze amid countless shards that hung suspended for a heartbeat before plummeting!

Gasps filled the room.

This was the thirty-fifth floor!

Min He nearly got dragged out by Gu Xianqing’s momentum. Steadying herself, she stared in shock at the falling enemy, frozen for a second.

But a second earlier, An He had already snatched a thin bedsheet from the bed, balled it up, and leaped after her! The biting wind whipped her clothes high before she plummeted.

No hesitation—like suicide!

The night sky loomed like an ink-black lake enveloping the tower. The only light at the base was the ghostly white glow from the first-floor Outpost.

This new recruit’s that desperate? She’s insane. Min He slammed her fist into the floor, glass shards stabbing her palm—a painful reminder she might never measure up.