Invasion [To the Outpost] Section 7

Deep within her heart, the thick crust she had painstakingly built up over the years suddenly cracked open, and a tiny seedling of something sprouted forth, sharp and pointed—only to be swiftly pressed back down by Lin Yuan’s hands.

A guide should not behave like this. A guide should be gentle, calm. A guide should not become exhilarated by battle.

In an instant, the fight erupted.

Terrifying, massive tentacles suddenly burst through the seabed soil. In a flash, one coiled tightly around the tail of the orca.

The suckers on the tentacle gripped the orca’s smooth skin firmly, dragging the enormous creature deeper into the trench.

Another tentacle quickly wrapped around, winding up the long tail fin, snaking past the sleek belly and dorsal fin, moving steadily upward.

Suddenly, that tentacle was seized by a strong, powerful human arm. It was the arm of a man, bearing bluish-purple bruises at the wrist, gripping the supple tentacle like an iron clamp.

A sharp blade was then pressed firmly against the tentacle’s skin.

In the disturbed kelp forest, the murky seawater gradually cleared.

Everything became visible.

The orca, male, its black tail fin ensnared by the thick tentacle, had an upper body transformed into that of a human male—the face of the sentinel Lin Yuan had seen before. The man extended his powerful arm, gripping the tentacle and holding a razor-sharp blade against it.

Turbulence surged from all directions. The seaweed and coral torn apart in the struggle drifted upward like bubbles of memory.

Within those rising fragments of memory, Lin Yuan caught glimpses of the sentinel’s youthful face.

Sometimes smiling, sometimes raising a glass with comrades, sometimes fighting on the battlefield.

This world was constructed from his memories. Every excessive destruction caused his core spirit to become unstable, to suffer.

Yet at this moment, the half-man, half-orca sentinel floated calmly amid the scattering bubbles, facing Lin Yuan with cool composure.

With one hand restraining, the other wielding a sharp short blade, his muscular arm tensed powerfully. No one doubted his ability to sever the entire tentacle with a single stroke.

“It will hurt,” he said, his gaze fixed intently on Lin Yuan. “Getting injured in the mental realm is even more painful than reality.”

This was his spiritual sea; as long as he believed he had a blade, he possessed one. As long as he believed the blade could harm, it could sever Lin Yuan’s spiritual tentacles.

The keen edge of the blade pressed against the skin, the sensation transmitted clearly into Lin Yuan’s mind, bringing a faint sting of pain.

The scene overlapped with that snowy night from long ago.

Dangerous and lethal, igniting the blood deep in her heart.

A true guide should not act this way, a guide should...

To hell with what a guide should be.

To hell with quiet gentleness.

Lin Yuan told herself that she clearly liked it—that deep inside, she harbored this desire.

She did not like to wait quietly and gently. She liked to attack, to be proactive and destructive, to control everything herself.

She liked to do things that no guide should dare.

She was never a normal guide to begin with.

Chapter 4

Lin Yuan often saw battle scenes in TV dramas.

Those fights were exquisite and full of twists.

Both sides exchanged blows, pausing at the beginning and midway through to voice their inner thoughts.

But on a real battlefield, Lin Yuan discovered everything happened far too swiftly.

Almost the moment Ni Ji’s words landed, a sharp sting of a blade cutting through skin came from her arm.

Lin Yuan clutched her arm.

She was wounded—it hurt so much.

Though there was no actual injury, the sensation of skin being sliced and blood flowing was unmistakably vivid.

The pain sensed by the tentacle was transmitted intact to her.

She now understood that Ni Ji’s warning was no bluff.

If the sentinel swung his blade and severed a tentacle, she would truly feel the agony of her own arm being sliced apart.

The tentacle coiled around the orca relaxed slightly from the pain.

That sleek, slippery giant fish seized the gap precisely, struggling free from its binding and darting away.

Once free, it charged straight at Lin Yuan with unbelievable speed.

Its powerful tail rose high, crashing down in a massive wave toward Lin Yuan.

Even underwater, that overwhelming force, accompanied by swirling currents, was terrifying.

A mere graze from such a tail could sever half a head instantly.

Lin Yuan did not know what would become of her physical body outside if she died here, in Ni Ji’s spiritual sea.

No one had ever taught her that.

Yet she seemed inherently at home in this spiritual realm—amid extreme danger and combat, she quickly began to grow familiar with everything.

In the dense sea water swirling around her was the sentinel’s faint consciousness.

Subtle beyond measure, like dust scattered across the vast ocean.

But Lin Yuan’s keen senses captured it.

She seized those particles, glimpsing into the warrior’s thoughts.

Thus, she could anticipate his attacks in advance, narrowly dodging the overwhelming onslaught.

A mighty force brushed past her face; though she barely evaded it, the resulting powerful whirlpool swept her far away.

Lin Yuan tumbled helplessly through the sea.

The world spun wildly; she lost all sense of up and down, surrounded by fragments of memory that floated like bubbles.

Inside each bubble were countless unfamiliar faces.

Amid the tumbling chaos, Lin Yuan turned back to look.