Chapter 82: First Fortress 34 Part 2

An He could only burn Shatterblade Time at full throttle to chase. Her body was wrecked, wounds pushing every muscle to breaking point, heavy as lead. But rest wasn’t an option. She forced clarity, slamming her palm into her shoulder wound.

Her fogged mind sharpened. An He sprinted wildly.

Then the roots stirred, lashing at her.

The root-controlling cabin cocoon, half its body still smoldering yet clinging to life, rose expressionlessly. Under the God’s sway, it squeezed out its final worth.

Ground roots surged indiscriminately. Wen Yewang coughed up blood from the crush, roots engulfing her completely as she fell unconscious.

The obstructive roots multiplied. An He fumed, watching the gap to 707 widen. Her feet snared, no time to kill the cocoon—Gu Xianqing couldn’t help either.

In her frustration, the roots began withering—not from tips, but from the wall roots, necrotizing en masse. A chemical stench wafted from them.

Moss died, roots decayed. From the wall outward, plants shriveled to husks, oozing rot-water.

It seemed the surface team was clearing the Fortress’s perimeter trees—Kazama Asagiri had relayed An He’s warning in time.

Fortunately, they hadn’t listened to An He and tried burning it all down; instead, they’d chosen chemical agents to eradicate it root and stem. Otherwise, they never could have reached this deep underground.

An He had no time to dwell on those details. 707 had already found Vivian.

Vivian huddled in the crevice that the tree roots had pried open in the rock wall, curled into a ball. From start to finish, she hadn’t set foot in the underground space or made a single sound. If not for the roots withering away and her using her Innate Talent to expose herself, no one would have noticed her.

An He let out a wry chuckle. Gu Xianqing had hidden the girl well enough.

But now, Vivian was no longer safe.

It was as if an invisible giant hand guided countless drifting spores, hurtling them all in the same direction at an unbelievably fast speed. In the blink of an eye, Vivian’s surroundings swarmed with them.

“Hold your breath! Don’t breathe!” An He urgently warned.

Vivian still wore the face mask Gu Xianqing had given her, but with spore density this high, it was unclear if it could block them. She was twenty meters up the wall, where the roots had dried out—no way to gain purchase. For a moment, An He couldn’t find a way to climb.

But 707 was different. With a few taps against the wall, she was right in front of Vivian.

An He looked up, her heart pounding wildly. High above, the contrast between 707 and Vivian was stark. Vivian was an underdeveloped Cabin Cocoon, scrawny and weak—a lamb to the slaughter before 707.

707 placed her mangled hand on Vivian’s shoulder. From the stump, blood began writhing, burrowing straight into Vivian’s flesh.

It was Divine Blood.

Would Vivian be controlled by the God? She was obedient and mentally fragile; she might not withstand even one illusion.

It was over. An He suddenly recalled the illusion where she’d killed Vivian with her own hands.

Back then, she’d struck without hesitation. But reality was different.

Did she really have to kill this sister she’d already connected with, just like the other Cabin Cocoons?

Killing someone you’d bonded with… that was much harder.

An He turned to look at Gu Xianqing, who had caught up. Gu Xianqing’s expression was grave. After quickly assessing the situation, she whispered, “Don’t panic, Raven.”

Gu Xianqing’s voice was always soft, but it carried surprising weight. An He took a deep breath, and when she looked up again, her heartbeat had steadied completely.

She couldn’t panic.

The surviving Ravens swarmed over in a dark mass—whole ones, injured ones, those with damaged wings—all flying toward An He and launching attacks on 707. On the ground, the few badly wounded ones flapped their wings, still awaiting orders.

707 ignored the Ravens. Their scratches and pecks were like scraping fish scales to her—harmless. This wasn’t a long-term plan. 707 hadn’t revealed her exact Innate Talent yet; she might have many. An He couldn’t give her more time.

The fires around them had nearly died out, leaving the Ravens’ scarlet eyes as An He’s only landmarks. Smelling the blood in the air and borrowing the Ravens’ vision, she saw the Divine Blood writhing on 707’s stump. An He’s eyes darkened.

Then, she pressed her aching left hand against the smooth rock wall.

Countless pink Mycelium threads spread from her palm and between her fingers, racing up the stone. An He had never tried activating Parasite without direct contact before, but the Divine Blood inspired her—these things were alive; they could move on their own!

Faster! Even faster!

The Mycelium bundled upward like a tiny tree growing on the wall, its “branches” shooting wildly up while its “roots” stayed linked to An He’s palm.

Normally, An He only released one or two clusters, but now she pushed the Mycelium to its limits, just as she forced her own body. Her mental energy had broken past its boundaries; every breath was a dull ache like hammer blows and oil frying. But An He didn’t relent.

If not for this fierce battle, she wouldn’t have known she could achieve this. The Parasite Mycelium was more vibrant than ever.

Bird cries filled her ears. Three or five Ravens flew to the wall, seized the Mycelium in their beaks, and rushed toward Vivian.

An He’s target wasn’t 707—it was that frightened sister.

She needed to protect Vivian and deliver a fatal strike to 707!

[Parasite] activated. Unlike the God’s Parasite, An He didn’t seize control of Vivian’s mind. Instead, with her mental Innate Talent, she gave Vivian two pieces of advice: one to stay clear-headed; the other, not to fear counterattacking anyone who hurt her.

Had anyone ever taught Vivian that? If not, An He would teach her now.

She’d assist from the side, helping Vivian stay lucid.

To An He’s surprise, Vivian really was holding her breath obediently, her face turning red-purple. She hadn’t inhaled a single spore.

Vivian wasn’t as fragile as An He had imagined. She’d hidden here for a long time, watching An He’s face go from clean to blood-smeared, her steps from swift to covered in wounds. Clutching the Raven Pendant at her neck, Vivian had watched it all in silence.

An He had shown her the way. Now, it was her turn.

The God’s Parasite had taken effect; Vivian’s mind was a fog of chaos. But she was staying clear-headed, needing little help from An He.

Kill it, Vivian thought.

“Kill her,” An He’s consciousness transmitted through neural synapses at the same time!

Vivian opened her eyes. At the limit of holding her breath, a dense killing intent flashed. Her originally black, vacant eyes now shone with boundless light.

An He fueled that killing intent, pouring all her mental energy into “teaching” Vivian—showing her how to effortlessly destroy a person’s vital organs.

707 sensed something wrong and activated her Innate Talent. The ground beneath everyone’s feet suddenly turned transparent, as if it would become a bottomless abyss any second.

Too late!

“Pfft—”

In an instant, spraying blood mist fell like rain. The killing power was terrifying—An He and Vivian’s combined force shredded 707’s vital organs without mercy!

707 lost her balance and fell backward. Her Innate Talent halted.

At that moment, Gu Xianqing tossed An He a freshly loaded gun. An He leaped and caught it mid-air, aiming at the back of 707’s head, chambering a round, and firing!

Without Shatterblade Time’s boost, An He hit the ground shoulder-first, skidding across it in a long trail of blood.

But she never let go. Her powerful core muscles propelled her into a roll, eyes locked on 707. “Bang bang bang—” A barrage of bullets tore into 707’s back until the magazine clicked empty.

Blood mist—whether from bullets or Innate Talent—erupted from between 707’s eyebrows!

707 toppled completely, plummeting twenty meters.

The blood mist splashed the rock wall, blooming like spilled red ink.

An He yanked out her longsword with a shing, striding toward 707 in three steps, blade tip at her throat.

Strangely, 707 showed no intent to resist.

An He’s hand trembled violently; she could barely hold the sword. Her body had taken massive damage, held together only by sheer will. She couldn’t collapse until she saw 707 dead.

Gu Xianqing stood behind her, reaching out to steady An He and keep her from falling.

707 wasn’t dead. Her eyes were open, staring silently at the ceiling above.

For a moment, An He felt despair. She’d never known Cabin Cocoons were so damn tough.

She had no strength left for another fight. An He wanted to cry but had no tears.

She staggered forward, sword tip touching 707’s throat.

“Wait.” Gu Xianqing suddenly gripped An He’s hand.

707’s eyes were completely different now—wide with bewilderment, her pink pupils clear and harmless.

She was awake. The God had abandoned her, leaving her to see this world for the first—and last—time.

Dim, blood-red, reeking of gore. No different from inside the Sealed Boxes. Just with unbearable pain everywhere.

If she could choose, better not to come to this world at all.

In the distance, the black-haired Cabin Cocoon finally went still. Every flame in the space extinguished at that moment.

Clang. The Holy Sword dropped to the ground, bounced, fell again, and lay still.

After a brief silence, An He began gasping for air. Pain everywhere made her breaths ragged; exhaustion buckled her legs. Before her knees hit the dirt, Gu Xianqing pulled her into a soft embrace.

“You did well,” Gu Xianqing said, squatting to hold her and stroking her hair.

Anger surged uncontrollably in An He—Gu Xianqing saying that was utterly shameless—but she couldn’t make a sound. Her throat was parched, like it no longer belonged to her. She tried to struggle free but couldn’t.

Gu Xianqing held her tight.

Fine.

An He lowered her eyes, nuzzling into Gu Xianqing’s neck.

I’m so tired, she wanted to say.

But she couldn’t. The sounds that came out were whimpering, like a small beast’s cries.

“…It’s okay now.” Gu Xianqing softened her voice, stroking An He’s hair again. They shared a brief moment of peace.

Then, Gu Xianqing cleared her throat restrainedly, returning to her normal tone: “Wen Yewang’s out cold. I’ll take Vivian and go. Wait here—Sekhmet should arrive with people soon.”

From when they’d started searching for the surface entrance, nearly four hours had passed. Sekhmet would come looking for Wen Yewang; Gu Xianqing couldn’t stay long.

Gu Xianqing stood, but found An He clutching her clothing hem tightly.

An He sat on the ground, looking up at her, eyes misted with pain.

Pitiful, really.

“What? Can’t bear to let me go?” Gu Xianqing suppressed the flutter in her chest, arching a brow teasingly.