Chapter 147: The Aftermath
"One day, you’ll understand what you’ve truly freed."
Her heart tightened, but she said nothing.
For now, she would let the gods celebrate their hollow victory.
***
The heavy clang of metal echoed faintly in the distant corridors of the fortress. The air was thick with the acrid scent of gunpowder and scorched mana. Ling Yu’s vision flickered as she leaned against Xie Lingzhou’s arm, her once snow-white robes torn and stained with blood and ash. Her breathing was shallow, her skin pale under the dim light of the evening sun that filtered through the fractured skylight.
The chaos of the divine anchor’s collapse had just settled, but the sound of collapsing debris still rolled like distant thunder. The entire operation had been brutal, monsters, corrupted beasts, and the very essence of the anchor fighting back until its final moment. Ling Yu, despite her grievous wounds, had stood till the end, severing the anchor’s core with her own hands while drenched in its miasmic residue.
"Don’t push yourself," Xie Lingzhou muttered, his usually calm tone tinged with frustration and worry. His grip on her shoulder tightened as she stumbled. His robes were singed, his forearm still bleeding from a deep gash, yet his attention remained on her alone. "You’ve done enough, Lady Ling."
She managed a faint smile through cracked lips. "You sound like my butler right now. And the thing he is the best at is nagging me all the time..."
He frowned but said nothing. The comment stirred a familiar irritation in him, but before he could respond, a sharp gust of air cut through the hall.
A shadow streaked in front of them.
Before Xie Lingzhou could react, a hand gripped his arm and gently pried Ling Yu away from him. The movement was fast yet controlled, not violent, only deliberate. A tall figure clad in sleek black combat gear appeared, his sharp features unreadable under the dim light. His hair was slightly disheveled, and his usual cold eyes burned with an unfamiliar emotion.
"You—" Xie Lingzhou began, his voice low but edged with restraint.
Song didn’t even glance at him. His expression remained solemn as he lifted Ling Yu into his arms with a gentleness that contrasted his sharp, militaristic bearing. His eyes softened slightly as he looked down at her. "You’ve done enough, Ling Yu. Let me take care of this now."
Ling Yu blinked up at him weakly, her lashes fluttering like feathers against her pale cheeks. "I can still—"
"No." His voice was firm but quiet, the kind of tone that brokered no argument. "You’ve already pushed beyond your limit. If you keep talking, I’ll tie you to the bed next."
Despite the exhaustion clouding her mind, she managed a tiny, breathless laugh. "You... sound just like you mean it."
"I do," he replied curtly.
Without another word, Song turned, adjusting his grip slightly to ensure she wouldn’t feel the strain of movement. Ling Yu’s head rested against his chest, and for a fleeting second, she could hear the steady beat of his heart, strong, unrelenting, grounding. She closed her eyes as the world tilted and blurred, her consciousness fading in and out.
Xie Lingzhou stood there for a long moment, his fists clenching at his sides. There was a fleeting look of frustration in his gaze, but also something else, relief. After all, if there was one person he trusted to keep Ling Yu alive right now, it was Song.
The journey back to the assigned apartment was quiet, save for the rhythmic sound of Song’s boots against the corridor. The base corridors were lined with flickering light crystals, casting an ethereal blue hue over the walls. The scent of antiseptic and smoke clung to the air. As they passed through checkpoints, guards saluted silently, their eyes widening slightly at the sight of the bloodied figure in his arms.
The automatic doors slid open with a soft hiss.
Inside, warmth greeted them, a stark contrast to the battlefield’s cold. The apartment was spacious but lived-in, filled with faint traces of their shared existence as a team. There were books and field maps scattered on the table, a few used teacups, and a faint lavender scent that belonged to Ye Qingxue’s herbal oils.
"Captain?" a soft voice called out as they entered.
Ye Qingxue was the first to appear from the kitchen, her long hair tied back, her robes light and comfortable. Her eyes widened when she saw Ling Yu in Song’s arms, blood staining her side and sleeves. "Ling Yu!"
Nie Ziyu emerged soon after, her crimson jacket half unzipped, clearly having just returned from the training hall. Her expression darkened immediately. "Damn it, what happened this time? She looks like she walked through a storm of acid."
Song ignored their questions for the moment. "Where’s Xian Yu?"
"Inside," Ye Qingxue said quickly, already clearing the living room table and pulling out the medical chest. "He’s preparing new healing crystals."
"Good." Song’s tone softened slightly as he carried Ling Yu into the bedroom area. He placed her gently on the bed, his motions precise but tender, ensuring her injuries didn’t reopen. "Fetch him."
Ye Qingxue hurried away. Nie Ziyu stayed behind, crossing her arms but unable to hide the concern tightening her features. Fluffy, the small spirit beast resembling a snow fox, leapt onto the bed and nestled immediately against Ling Yu’s arm, letting out a low, worried whimper.
Ling Yu stirred weakly, her voice hoarse. "I’m fine... really."
Nie Ziyu arched a brow. "You don’t look fine, chief."
Song exhaled quietly and knelt beside her, carefully checking the pulse along her wrist. "You’re not fine," he said, his tone calm but cutting. "You’re severely drained. Your spiritual circuits are half-burnt."
She tried to turn her head away, but the motion made her dizzy. "The anchor... it had more resistance than expected."
"I told you to wait for reinforcement," he replied, his voice dropping lower. "You didn’t listen."
Ling Yu smiled faintly, her eyes glinting with tired mischief. "You would’ve taken too long. I didn’t want the corruption spreading to the lower districts."
"That’s not an excuse," Song muttered. But the way his jaw tightened betrayed his emotion; it wasn’t anger, but worry.
Before the argument could continue, Xian Yu entered the room. The team’s designated healer, he looked calm and composed as always, his silver hair slightly damp from the condensation of spiritual mist that followed his work. "Move aside," he said softly, setting down his bag of crystals and herbs. "She’s losing energy faster than she’s regenerating."
Song moved without protest, though his eyes never left her face. He stood at the bedside, arms crossed, watching as Xian Yu’s hands began to glow with pale green light.
The air grew heavy with the scent of crushed herbs and spiritual energy. Xian Yu’s palms hovered just above Ling Yu’s chest as light pulsed through her veins, tracing patterns along her skin. The room hummed faintly as his energy synchronized with hers, forcing corrupted traces of mana out of her body.
Ling Yu groaned softly, her back arching against the bed. Fluffy pressed closer, his small paws glowing faintly as if lending her his own life essence.
Ye Qingxue stood beside the bed, murmuring soft words of encouragement while wiping Ling Yu’s forehead with a damp cloth. Nie Ziyu leaned against the wall with folded arms, her usual brash tone subdued. "She really went all out this time."
"She always does," Song said quietly.
Nie Ziyu glanced at him, then sighed. "You worry too much."
"And you don’t worry enough," he countered flatly.
Xian Yu’s brow furrowed as he focused, veins of green light weaving across Ling Yu’s wounds, sealing torn flesh and burnt channels. After a long moment, the glow subsided. He exhaled deeply, leaning back slightly. "It’s done. But she needs rest, at least a full day of sleep. No field missions, no channeling mana."
"Understood," Song said immediately.
Ling Yu, half-conscious, murmured something under her breath. Song leaned closer. "...what was that?"
She opened her eyes slightly, a faint gleam of defiance still flickering there. "You’re... bossy."
Song’s lips twitched. "And you’re reckless."
Her mouth curved into a faint smile. "That makes us even then."
For the first time that evening, the heavy tension in the room eased slightly. Nie Ziyu smirked faintly and pushed off from the wall. "Alright, drama over. I’ll go make some soup before Ye starts crying."
Ye Qingxue shot her a glare but didn’t argue. Instead, she turned to Ling Yu, tucking a blanket gently around her. "Rest. We’ll keep watch. You’ve done enough for today."
Ling Yu nodded weakly, her eyes fluttering shut as exhaustion finally overtook her.
Hours passed.
The fortress outside was silent except for the faint sound of wind whistling through the steel towers. Inside the apartment, the atmosphere was warm, dim, and filled with a quiet sense of camaraderie.
Song sat by the bedside, reading through the mission report that Xie Lingzhou had transmitted to him. His expression remained impassive, but now and then, his gaze shifted toward Ling Yu’s sleeping form.