Infiltration [Guide/Sentinel] Section 53

Lin Yuan spoke again: "Rain."

And the sky began to rain. Torrents of heavy rain poured down from the heavens, washing away the stubborn mud clinging to every corner of the world.

Finally, Lin Yuan closed her eyes. When she opened them again, there was light in her gaze. She spoke: "Flood."

The sound of ocean waves rose from all directions, and seawater of unknown origin slowly surged across the land.

Where the seawater rushed past, it submerged the mud-laden ground and washed away the black, decadent filth.

The gentlest yet most powerful water engulfed all things and all sights.

Ruins, execution platforms, corpses, mannequins... Everything was submerged by the overwhelming flood.

The massive castle with its thousands of tiers, carrying those bizarre, painful, and unbearable memories, sank into the rolling waves sweeping across the earth.

Inside the treatment room in reality, the sentinel lying quietly on the hospital bed suddenly opened his eyes and stiffened his body.

Red fluorescent light appeared in his wide-open eyes, and a heavy roar came from his sealed throat.

The sentinel's powerful physique struggled desperately on the bed. Layer upon layer of binding straps made cracking sounds, and the iron chains locking his neck and legs clattered violently. It was startling enough to make one wonder if even such sturdy bindings could fail to hold him.

"What's wrong?"

"Resch!"

"It's berserk, Resch is going berserk."

"No, impossible."

"Don't, Team Leader. Hang in there."

Outside the window, the soldiers stood up one by one.

They pressed close to the glass, clenching their fists. They wanted to rush in, yet they were terrified of messing things up at the most crucial moment.

They could only grit their teeth and endure it in silence.

Inside the treatment room, the guide sitting beside the hospital bed remained as calm as ever. She kept her eyes closed, her expression serene.

No matter how the person on the sickbed thrashed and struggled, the hand she pressed on the sentinel's brow remained steady, completely unshaken.

In such a harrowing and agonizing moment, her expression of perpetual calm somehow inspired a faint sense of reassurance.

It was as if no matter how perilous the difficulties encountered, she had everything under control and could resolve it. It made one unable to help but place their trust in her.

Gradually, within Resch's mental landscape, the surging seawater began to recede.

Debris from the ruins floated on the vast expanse of water.

A small wooden cot drifted aimlessly from afar. Lin Yuan stepped onto the bed, gazing into the distance, occasionally fishing out items floating past on the water—a picture frame, a desk lamp, or a potted green plant...

Until she caught sight of that tiny lion.

The lonely little lion cub was soaking wet, its eyes closed, clinging to a piece of broken wood and drifting on the water.

A tentacle emerged from the water, grabbed the back of its neck, and handed it to Lin Yuan.

The seawater finally receded completely, and the gentle moonlight illuminated the scarred earth left in the wake of the tide.

A tiny green sprout emerged from the damp soil, unfurling two fresh green leaves in the moonlight.

Holding the wet lion cub, Lin Yuan stood in the damp wilderness. Everything had been washed away by the flood. The painful memories and the warm house left them without even a place to rest their feet.

Lin Yuan thought for a moment, dismantled the wooden board bed they had ridden on all the way, and pieced the pieces together to build a small wooden house with the timber.

Come and help, Lin Yuan said to the tentacles.

[We can't do this sort of thing]
[Lots of splinters, hurts the hands]
[Such delicate tentacles, how could you bear to use them for carpentry work?]
[You'd better stay busy yourself]
[Why are there no fish in the sea?]
[There's only a dirty little cat, a bit disappointing]
[I still want that little fish]

Lin Yuan had no choice but to do it herself. After all, she was a human living in the real world, not a spiritual entity that could act arbitrarily.

In her imaginary world, she pieced together a small wooden cabin barely large enough for a small boy to hide in.

"This will have to do for now," Lin Yuan said. "We'll just have to make do and squeeze in together for now. Later on, you can slowly build your big castle yourself."

She tucked the small lion, soaked through by the sea and shivering with cold, into the dry wooden house.

She left the lamp and the picture frame for him, and planted the potted green plant she had salvaged right at the doorway.

Lin Yuan stood up, preparing to leave.

From inside the tiny house, a hand reached out.

A human hand, the slender arm of a young boy.

That hand stretched out and quietly grasped the hem of Lin Yuan's garment, saying nothing. He could not speak yet.

Lin Yuan sighed, took off her own coat, and handed it to him. Inside the small house, the boy curled up in the corner, tightly hugging the coat that still held her body heat.

Lin Yuan opened her eyes in the treatment room, feeling a wave of exhaustion.

Sorting out a sentinel's mental world was truly no easy task. It was even more tiring than fighting monsters.

Lin Yuan withdrew her hand from the sentinel's forehead and looked at Resch lying on the hospital bed.

The long-haired golden sentinel had his eyes closed, a few strands of golden hair clinging to his sweat-dampened cheeks, his long eyelashes twitching occasionally, the corners of his eyes slightly moist.

It was as if he had fallen into a peaceful sleep.

All the instrument data connected to his body had also returned to normal states.

The glaring red exclamation mark on the virtual screen of Lin Yuan's personal terminal finally vanished as well.

A wet little lion appeared by Lin Yuan's feet at some point.

It was exceptionally tiny, resembling a newly born lion cub, its fur sparse, soaked all over, shivering and curled tightly into a ball.

Lin Yuan picked it up with a trace of reluctance, thought for a moment, and ultimately took off her own real coat, wrapping the lion cub—which was little bigger than a kitten—in the warm clothing.

Outside the window, the sentinels who had kept a bitter vigil for so long saw this scene, and with a cheer, they leaped up, hugging each other tightly.

Several of them even involuntarily shifted into semi-beast forms.

The appearance of Resch's spiritual entity indicated that the sentinel had pulled through the most dangerous moment.

Although his spiritual entity had regressed to a very weak form and temporarily lost its formidable combat capabilities, nothing was more important than a person surviving, was it?

When Lin Yuan walked out wearing only a short base layer and holding the young lion cub, the sentinels outside swarmed around her in a rush, each too excited to know what to say.

"He is still very fragile. Take good care of him and his spiritual entity. Keep the white noise in the room running without a stop," Lin Yuan instructed, and then she handed over the tiny lion in her hands, saying, "Give it to..."