Invasion [Guide/Sentinel] Section 38

Shu Jingtong stared at that hand.

It was a woman’s hand—much smaller than his own, wrapped in bandages, rough with calluses, stained with blood and mud.

Yet that hand was strong, firmly gripping his, and in an instant, it pulled him up from where he had collapsed on the ground.

She was a girl, probably younger than him and not as tall. But as a sentinel, she had hands hardened by countless trials.

With these hands, she had resolutely and decisively saved everyone here.

The female sentinel pulled him upright, rubbed her fingers together, and smiled.

“Oh my, this is the first time I’ve pulled up a guide’s hand.”

She bore no noble military rank, just an ordinary sentinel from a common background. Yet her bright smile was infectious.

Shu Jingtong opened his mouth to say something.

Then, in that very instant, disaster struck.

Just as everyone had let their guard down, thinking they could finally breathe a sigh of relief.

At the top of the airship, in the shadowed darkness without any lights, a breach suddenly appeared—no one knew when.

Acidic liquid dripped from the edges of the hole, corroded by some powerful acid.

Peering out from this silently eroded aperture was the face of a balding middle-aged man.

That enormous head had somehow slipped past everyone’s notice amidst the chaos, sneaking quietly into the narrow gap between the airship’s balloon and the cabin.

There, in that concealed space, he had used his corrosive saliva to eat through a hole.

He had lurked silently for who knows how long, waiting for the perfect moment—when the young female sentinel smiled.

Then, with a sharp, barbed proboscis, he suddenly pierced through the hole and impaled the sentinel’s body.

He lifted her whole body up and began dragging her outside.

Stealthy, patient, precise—he targeted the only strong warrior first.

It was as if he possessed intelligence and strategy.

The sentinel, pierced by the weapon, slipped into unconsciousness, her head drooping and her arm hanging limp.

Her body was hoisted upward on the long, spiked weapon, red blood dripping from her fingers onto Shu Jingtong’s face.

The powerful sentinel who had just moments ago inspired courage in him and everyone here was now dead.

Blood plopped down in heavy drops on his face.

This must be a nightmare—an endless nightmare, Shu Jingtong thought, unrelenting like the territory itself.

A hand, wrapped in a sports jacket sleeve, reached out before his eyes and grasped the sentinel’s bleeding hand midair.

The arm, pale and slender like all guides’, bore a calm face speckled with blood.

It was Lin Yuan.

Lin Yuan gripped the sentinel’s wrist tightly. Despite the monster’s immense strength almost lifting her feet off the ground, she refused to let go, pulling back with her delicate, white arms.

A drumbeat sounded, as if from a mysterious realm, stirring a fierce spirit deep within those who heard it.

Shu Jingtong snapped back to reality and lunged forward, joining Lin Yuan in pulling the sentinel’s hand.

Four hands gripped the bloodied arm, struggling against the monster’s force to reclaim the sentinel from its grasp.

Their combined weight still could not overcome the mutant’s strength.

Nicole sprang forward, wrapping her arms around Lin Yuan’s waist.

Others followed, one by one, clutching each other as they fought together to wrest life back from the monster’s jaws.

Finally, like a tug-of-war, they pulled the impaled sentinel free.

The sentinel, drenched in blood, fell unconscious and tumbled into a heap with everyone on the ground.

In the chaos, before Shu Jingtong could rise, he saw someone pick up the sentinel’s fallen gun.

It was Lin Yuan again.

The girl who was also a guide, though unfamiliar with handling such a heavy weapon, hoisted it onto her shoulder.

Kneeling on one leg, she raised the gun and aimed at the hole in the roof, firing a shot.

The bullet missed; the monster outside dodged.

The powerful recoil sent Lin Yuan sprawling backward, but she quickly got up, rubbed her shoulder, and re-aimed.

How could she possibly hit it? Shu Jingtong thought. The gun was so heavy, and the monster’s movements so swift they were almost impossible to track with the naked eye.

Only a sentinel’s keen eyesight could hope to strike them.

Strangely, the monster that had been so agile suddenly seemed to become sluggish and dull.

It halted abruptly, its cloudy eyes vacant, drooling acid down as it moved slowly.

Lin Yuan adjusted her stance clumsily, aimed carefully at the hole, and fired a second shot.

Bang—the bullet struck the monster’s face.

As if awakened, the giant angry visage retreated from the hole.

Though hit, the wound was not fatal—at best, it forced the creature to momentarily withdraw.

Lin Yuan knelt on one leg, gun raised, her gaze fixed unwaveringly on the hole still dripping corrosive acid.

“Save her,” she said.

Shu Jingtong was stunned.

“Save that sentinel,” Lin Yuan said calmly, without averting her eyes. “She’s still alive.”

The sentinel, pulled from the monster’s mouth, lay unconscious.

Her left shoulder was pierced by a terrible gaping wound, blood quickly staining the floor, seemingly beyond hope.

Yet she was still alive—her young face pale and bloodless, breathing faintly.

“Hurry,” Lin Yuan urged, even dedicating one arm to staunch the blood gushing from the wound.

Shu Jingtong searched for the first aid kit on the airship and was about to move forward when a companion—his friend who had sat beside him during the meal—quietly tugged his sleeve.

“Don’t go, Jingtong,” the friend said. “You already have a fiancée.”

Shu Jingtong froze.

“What would you look like going over there?” the friend gestured at his chest.

The wounded sentinel lay on the ground, injured at the shoulder.

To treat her, one would inevitably have to loosen clothing and touch her skin.

As a guide raised with strict etiquette, it was normally unthinkable to touch a sentinel’s body.

“What time is this?” Shu Jingtong said, displeased.

“She’s just a low-ranking sentinel,” the friend tightened his grip. “Think about it. When you return, they’ll definitely exaggerate this story. What would your fiancée think if she knew you were getting close to a common sentinel on the airship?”

“Don’t go. Why bother? She’s just a sentinel from a common district. Saving her won’t help.”

If the sentinel was still alive, she might be their lifeline.

But clearly, she was dying. Saving her would be useless.

“You don’t want to end up like Lin Yuan, breaking your engagement and being mocked by everyone, do you?” the friend smirked, nodding toward Lin Yuan’s direction.