Chapter Twelve: The Battle Begins

Xia Yan reached out and steadied Qingxia by her shoulders. His eyes were clear, unruffled, betraying no emotion.

“Xia Yan, after all the help I’ve given you, is this how you treat me?” Even Qingxia now found herself losing patience; this boy was simply too peculiar. Did nothing in front of him provoke any reaction at all?

This was her first defeat. She had always believed that no man could slip through her fingers. But now, this belief was shattered—by a sixteen-year-old boy.

“I am truly grateful for your help, Miss Qingxia, but let’s keep things separate. I’m rather conservative about these matters,” Xia Yan replied calmly, a composed smile on his face.

In truth, he’d already slipped up more than once. Conservatism about such things didn’t mean he could always keep his composure. Of course, there was no way Xia Yan could affect a crimson blush and stammer out words for half a day.

“Xia Yan,” Qingxia bit her lip, tears shimmering in her eyes. “Is it because of that woman, Lan Xin?”

Xia Yan frowned. He had no wish to get entangled with this woman any further, so he simply nodded, going along with her assumption. It was better than searching for a worse excuse, like claiming to be interested in men.

“Xia Yan!” Qingxia grew anxious, her breath tinged with a seductive allure. “Don’t worry, Lan Xin will never find out. Besides, I can help you—make sure she never escapes your grasp.”

Xia Yan felt a headache coming on. This woman must be mad.

He had never suspected Qingxia’s identity. It was easy to understand why—if there were anything suspicious about her, she’d be slaughtering people on the battlefield, not weaving webs of intrigue in the game of love.

“My love for Miss Lan Xin is absolutely pure. I won’t even touch her before we’re married,” Xia Yan said flatly, face darkening, uttering a rejection both awkward and uncharacteristic.

“Sorry, Miss Qingxia, I have things to attend to. I can’t stay any longer.” Xia Yan offered an apologetic smile, then turned and left the suite.

“Damn you, Xia Yan. Damn you!” Qingxia glared hatefully at his retreating figure, still unable to believe that her charms had failed to ensnare him.

Xia Yan truly was a strange one.

What Xia Yan didn’t realize was that his ordinary-sounding refusal had allowed him to escape a deadly trap. Had he become entangled with that woman, the consequences might have been far worse than death.

“Xia Yan, do you think it ends here?” Qingxia’s expression twisted with malice. “No, impossible. My next move is already about to begin. For an idiot like you, there’s no way you’ll notice anything strange. You’re going to die a miserable death.”

“What a pity, Xia Yan.” Qingxia sighed. “You could’ve died in a much more pleasant way—lingering with me for a long time. Isn’t there a saying? ‘Better to die beneath a peony than live without romance.’ What a shame, Xia Yan, that you chose the worst way to die.”

Three days later, during his grueling training, Xia Yan received a mission briefing from Gong Kui regarding the third squad.

“Understood. Two level-three mutants and one level-three demon have appeared in the wilderness, correct?” Xia Yan confirmed.

“That’s right,” Gong Kui replied, adding, “Level-three demons are rare, Xia Yan, be careful. This time, the mission is for you, Qingxia, He Changlou, and Ma Wu.”

“Why specifically me?” Xia Yan asked, puzzled. “And Lan Xin isn’t coming?”

“She usually works alone, unless it’s a level-four mutant hunt. And the others requested you this time,” Gong Kui replied with a laugh.

“Alright,” Xia Yan said, not pressing further. Using the coordinates provided, he prepared to rendezvous with the others.

After hanging up, Gong Kui sighed quietly, deep in thought. Truly a heartless man, she mused.

She could have given Xia Yan more time to prepare. With a grade-level firearm, perhaps his combat power would be higher.

“But, Xia Yan,” Gong Kui shook her head, “in this world, nothing ever goes perfectly. How can you wait until you’re fully prepared before heading into battle? All dangers strike suddenly—there’s no time for you to stand still.”

She considered herself despicable for not warning Xia Yan to be wary of the other three. She couldn’t be bothered—what was the point? If Xia Yan was doomed, what did it matter if he died now or six months later?

Is merely being alive a kind of luck? The luck of awaiting death?

“If you die here, Xia Yan, it only proves you were only ever this strong.” Gong Kui sighed softly. “All my efforts would be in vain. I absolutely will not allow you to fall here. You must endure, fulfill the second condition, then the third—go to the Demonic Clan, kill Ai You, and return alive from a trial of near-certain death.”

She closed her eyes, in that moment placing all her hopes on Xia Yan. He was human, his future would be brilliant, and he would make outstanding contributions to humanity. He would always remember this debt, and never betray them.

Everything was progressing as planned.

All she needed was for Xia Yan to live up to expectations.

The reward for exterminating a level-three mutant was five contribution points, plus extra depending on the materials harvested—about six to eight points more. The total would be slightly higher when divided among more people.

If two people hunted a level-three mutant, each would receive about thirty-four points. But if four went, each would get only about two points.

Guardians also received a salary, though not in contribution points, but in Earth Federation credits—after all, everyone needed to eat and drink; without a salary, would they survive on dirt?

Xia Yan piloted his aircraft to the designated wilderness. The other three were already there, waiting for him.

“Xia Yan, over here,” Qingxia called, showing no trace of the previous tension between them.

Xia Yan walked over with a smile, greeting the three. Their interactions were cordial enough, though He Changlou seemed rather displeased, unable to understand why Xia Yan had been assigned to the mission.

“I’ll take command of this operation,” He Changlou declared. “Xia Yan and I will engage the mutants and demon directly. You two provide support from the rear.”

No one objected.

Qingxia’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Xia Yan, I’ll be relying on you for this mission.”

“Of course,” Xia Yan nodded quietly, his expression unchanged.

“Hmph!” Qingxia scoffed inwardly. Rely on you? Xia Yan, don’t overestimate yourself. An ant like you is about to die.

Just wait. Your death is already a matter of countdown. By this time next year, it’ll be the anniversary of your demise.

Pitiful boy—still so oblivious.

Xia Yan and He Changlou led the way, Qingxia and Ma Wu following behind.

“Let’s test things first, just in case,” Qingxia thought. With a flicker of thought, Ma Wu’s body suddenly stiffened, a strange, effeminate, cold smile spreading across his face, at odds with his round features.

“Let’s analyze with the Data Stream ability,” Qingxia—or rather, Ma Wu—focused, activating her analytical powers on Xia Yan.

“He’s awakened a fire element ability,” a torrent of data flickered in Ma Wu’s eyes. “Body and brain development are both about twenty-four percent.”

Confirming Xia Yan’s strength, Qingxia smirked coldly. He was indeed a genius, but she most enjoyed snuffing out human prodigies.

With only twenty-four percent development and a fire element ability, he was strong, but with the cards she held, killing him would be effortless.

How foolish, Xia Yan, to choose such a death. You could have indulged in pleasure before dying.

Perhaps, in any case, this woman called Qingxia was a little too confident in her own allure. Was it blind? Was it laughable?

“Hm?” Ma Wu suddenly shuddered, as if regaining his senses, scanning the surroundings in confusion, unable to comprehend what had just occurred.

Just then—

“I’ve found the first level-three mutant. Xia Yan, let’s go,” He Changlou called.

“Alright,” Xia Yan replied, gripping his versatile blade and stepping forward to attack alongside He Changlou.

Qingxia and Ma Wu stood behind, watching. Qingxia was already pondering her next move.

Should she strike now?

Or wait?

Killing him now shouldn’t be difficult. A mere sixteen-year-old human—weak as an ant.

Qingxia stood impassively, calculating the best moment to act.

She could not let this human genius escape. This time, she would see him dead.

“Hm?” Qingxia blinked in surprise—the battle was already over. Far too quickly.

She smirked. No matter; the level-three mutant was just an appetizer. The real main course would come with the level-three demon.

She didn’t care. This was a battle without suspense. She was simply cautious, unwilling to expose her identity, preferring to orchestrate Xia Yan’s death as an accident.

Even without the demon or mutants, she could have crushed Xia Yan like an ant—but that would risk exposure.

Soon, the group found another mutant.

Qingxia shook her head, in no hurry to strike. It would be better to use the demon’s special traits to kill Xia Yan—then the higher-ups wouldn’t suspect anything. Using the level-three mutant as a tool would be difficult.

Very soon, the second level-three mutant was slain.

Qingxia and Ma Wu brought up the rear as the four headed toward their final target.

Qingxia considered her strategy.

Ma Wu’s abilities: first, reconnaissance; second, mental attacks—continuous, relentless, especially effective against humanoids. But Ma Wu alone couldn’t kill Xia Yan. Should she sacrifice another?

No, that wouldn’t do. If Ma Wu could restrain Xia Yan, the demon could finish the job. That should suffice.

Quickly, Qingxia finalized her plan: Ma Wu would kill Xia Yan.

Soon, they arrived at the lair of the level-three demon.

“There it is—level-three demon. Get ready!” He Changlou shouted, snapping them all to attention.

Before them loomed a shadowy fog, featureless, but as it noticed the four, it swelled, transforming into a ten-meter-tall, hideous, demonic face.

With a tearing shriek, the face lunged for them.

“Xia Yan, together!” He Changlou called, summoning a green energy blade—a weapon ability, condensing energy into a solid form. These abilities had no fixed names, as each person’s weapon manifested differently. He Changlou called his green blade “Jade.”

Xia Yan attacked from the side, aiming for the demon’s core.

Because of the demon’s shifting form, it couldn’t be killed in an instant; one had to wear down its core before striking the fatal blow.

The two surrounded the demon—overwhelming force, with no chance for surprises.

Qingxia watched from behind, expressionless, pitying the imminent death of a human prodigy.

“Xia Yan, die. Betrayed by your comrades—what a delightful descent into hell. I can’t wait to see your stunned, terrified face—ha, ha, ha…”

Qingxia sneered, and with a thought, Ma Wu moved.

Ma Wu’s expression went blank, as if seized by madness, humming a strange nursery rhyme as he skipped toward the demon.

His path took him behind the demon. By the time Xia Yan and He Changlou noticed, it was too late to help. A wisp of black mist flooded into Ma Wu’s body. He let out a shrill, agonized scream and collapsed into utter insanity.

“What’s happening?” Xia Yan and He Changlou recoiled at the scream, unable to comprehend the sudden disaster.

At that moment, Ma Wu’s dark eyes fixed on Xia Yan.

With a thought, it was as if a blade of fire slashed through the void, aiming straight at Xia Yan.

“How can this be!” Xia Yan was shocked, unable to fathom why his teammate had suddenly turned on him.

Of course, demons could drive people mad. Perhaps Ma Wu was no longer himself.

With brain development reaching nearly forty percent, Ma Wu was a formidable opponent. Xia Yan couldn’t afford mercy—hesitation would mean death.

And to make matters worse, the level-three demon still lurked, ready to pounce…