Chapter Eighteen: The Outbreak of Conflict

In the wilderness, an endless plain stretched beneath the sky, with ancient, decaying cities dotting the horizon. Qingxia and He Changlou waited there, and as soon as they saw Xia Yan approaching, they hurried to greet him.

"Miss Qingxia, Mr. He Changlou, apologies for my lateness," Xia Yan said with a gentle smile.

"No trouble at all. Let’s get going," Qingxia replied, her lips curling into a smile.

"As before, I’ll be in command," He Changlou announced, casting a dissatisfied glance at the two. "Xia Yan and I will take the lead, Qingxia, you’ll provide support from the rear!"

As the three walked, their conversation meandered idly, touching on trivial matters. But then, Xia Yan’s tone shifted abruptly. "I’ve noticed that Miss Qingxia and Mr. He Changlou seem quite close—are you two a couple?"

An odd look flickered across both their faces, for in truth, they were secret lovers.

"Of course not," Qingxia replied, winking at Xia Yan with a coy laugh. "Are you jealous, Xia Yan?"

He Changlou’s eyes narrowed, a hint of menace flashing within them as he turned to Xia Yan. No man could tolerate another coveting his woman.

"Naturally," Xia Yan answered, dead serious. This response caught Qingxia off guard; she seemed both puzzled and incredulous.

Xia Yan smiled, a trace of tenderness in his gaze. "I’d like to court Miss Qingxia myself. If there’s nothing between you two, all the better."

At these words, Qingxia’s expression changed abruptly. She sensed acutely that something was amiss.

"You—" Qingxia’s eyes grew sharp, but she quickly recovered, laughing sweetly. "Don’t joke, Xia Yan. There’s too much of an age gap between us. It wouldn’t be appropriate."

Xia Yan ignored Qingxia and instead looked straight at He Changlou, a cold smile playing on his lips. "Mr. He Changlou, you and Miss Qingxia truly aren’t involved? If not, then I suppose I’m free to pursue her, am I not?"

Qingxia had already anticipated this—Xia Yan must have noticed something, though his purpose remained unclear. One thing was certain: he was not to be underestimated. Still, according to the plan, now was not the time to move against Xia Yan. They needed to draw him deeper into this wasteland.

"Kid, don’t set your sights on Qingxia. I’m warning you," He Changlou seethed, his eyes bloodshot and ferocious.

No man would tolerate another making advances on his woman—even if she were merely a lover, even if Xia Yan was only sixteen.

"So you are involved after all?" Xia Yan squinted, his tone mocking. "When did it start, if I may ask?"

"Xia Yan, do you really think you have the right to pry into such matters?" Qingxia snapped, her anger barely concealed.

A hint of hostility flickered in Qingxia’s eyes, while He Changlou felt perplexed, unable to grasp Xia Yan’s intent.

Yet, this confrontation had truly begun the moment Xia Yan had spoken. If one were to liken this to a game of chess, both sides were maneuvering, each word a tactical move. Xia Yan needed to use conversation to draw out the truth.

Some things could be chalked up to coincidence. But two coincidences in a row—those became inevitability.

There weren’t that many coincidences; it could only mean there was a problem.

Unbothered by their growing anger, Xia Yan continued earnestly, "Recently, I asked Miss Gong Kui to investigate Miss Qingxia’s second ability. Unfortunately, it seems Miss Qingxia hasn’t awakened her second ability as of three months ago. The available data is three months out of date!"

"What are you getting at?" He Changlou asked, fists clenching, on the verge of violence.

"Let’s hypothesize—just a hypothesis," Xia Yan sneered. "Suppose Miss Qingxia awakened her second ability in the past three months, and it’s a special one—requiring intimacy with a man to activate."

"Xia Yan, enough," Qingxia snapped, her eyes glinting with murderous intent, making no effort to conceal it.

But Xia Yan was undeterred. He had never feared this woman. "So, I must ask, Mr. He Changlou, when exactly did your relationship with her begin?"

He ignored Qingxia, turning instead to He Changlou, as though convinced he’d get a more thorough answer from him.

"Why should I tell you?" He Changlou retorted with a snort.

"On the second day after I joined the squad, Miss Qingxia reached out to me. As for her reason—" Xia Yan’s tone grew malicious, "it’s precisely the same reason I wish to pursue Miss Qingxia myself."

He Changlou’s rage was barely contained, and madness flickered in his eyes. An invitation, a man and a woman alone, the pursuit—none of these sounded innocent.

The atmosphere between the three was electric, ready to erupt at any moment. It was no exaggeration to say that none of them still considered themselves teammates. Combat could break out at any second, and no one would find it surprising if it turned deadly.

"So, will you tell me, Mr. He Changlou?" Xia Yan pressed, still smiling.

"About a month," He Changlou replied through gritted teeth, giving in.

"Xia Yan, you’re going too far," Qingxia hissed. "Changlou, nothing happened between Xia Yan and me. He tried to force himself on me, but I stopped him."

A classic reversal—she played the victim, shifting blame to Xia Yan.

Yet this only drove He Changlou over the edge. His murderous intent was now blatant, the dazzling emerald blade appearing in his hand.

"Xia Yan, you dare lay a hand on Qingxia?" He Changlou’s voice trembled with rage, primed to attack at the slightest provocation. He waited for Xia Yan to nod—if he did, He Changlou would strike, intent at the very least on crippling him, if not killing.

Xia Yan halted, the smile gone from his face, his eyes now cold and unforgiving. "I’ve suspected you both for some time. In our last mission, Ma Wu’s death was far too suspicious to be a mere accident."

"The reason is simple. Ma Wu only let me join the squad because of Miss Qingxia. But what exactly was his relationship with her?"

He Changlou’s expression twisted. He understood perfectly. If Xia Yan was right, Qingxia and Ma Wu had shared the same kind of relationship as she did with him.

That Ma Wu—renowned for his lust—would never have failed to take the bait if Qingxia had seduced him. He Changlou recalled their own first night: Qingxia had made the first move.

No—it couldn’t be!

Xia Yan sighed, fixing He Changlou with a steady gaze. "Whether you’re truly under her control, a dog obeying orders, or you have your own agenda, it makes no difference to me."

"Come, let’s fight!" As he spoke, Xia Yan drew his morphing blade.

"Damn it, just a little further—almost at the position for a combined strike," Qingxia fretted inwardly. She still hadn’t managed to control He Changlou.

Just a few more steps, and their encirclement would be nearly perfect, leaving Xia Yan no hope of escape.

"I’m not under control—absolutely not!" He Changlou gritted his teeth. "As Guardians, we are forbidden from killing each other. Even if I held a grudge, I couldn’t settle it here!"

"I’m not moving another step. Fight, or don’t," Xia Yan replied indifferently, looking between the two.

Ma Wu’s suspicious death, Qingxia and He Changlou’s relationship, Qingxia’s advances on him the day after he joined—three coincidences, and thus, inevitability.

Once He Changlou realized Qingxia had been with him, Xia Yan had instantly grown wary. He was ready to fight at any moment, and showed no intention of holding back.

Yet no one moved. Qingxia was waiting for the ideal spot to strike. And He Changlou, for now, still retained his self-control.

"If we’re not fighting, I’ll be on my way," Xia Yan said, turning to go.

This was a battle without gunfire—a contest of patience, to see who would lose their composure first.

"Damn, there’s no choice." Qingxia gritted her teeth, and with a thought, seized full control of He Changlou.

"Xia Yan, die!" He Changlou roared, his features twisted with rage as he swung the emerald blade in a dazzling arc that seemed to cleave the earth itself.

But Xia Yan had anticipated this. As though he had eyes in the back of his head, he raised his morphing blade to block the attack.

In the same instant, he spun, lunged forward, and with all his might, brought his blade down in a powerful cleaving strike—his signature charged slash.

Qingxia retreated swiftly, putting at least thirty meters between herself and the combatants, her eyes narrowing as she surveyed the battlefield.

This boy’s strength surpasses even He Changlou’s—his physical development is truly terrifying.

But he’s showing no intention of holding back. Even if He Changlou attacked first, if Xia Yan kills him without cause, he’ll still face punishment.

Qingxia’s unease deepened. She hadn’t foreseen this. If Xia Yan truly went mad, killing He Changlou and then her, she might not survive—her ability was not suited for combat.

A chill ran through her as she hurriedly retreated further, fearful that Xia Yan’s killing intent might turn on her.

The two blades collided with a force that seemed to stir the very wind and clouds, sending a shock through He Changlou’s body and forcing him to slide backward, carving a deep furrow in the ground for at least ten meters before he could stop.

His strength is greater than He Changlou’s—how is that possible? Qingxia was incredulous. He Changlou had developed forty percent of his brain, eighteen percent of his body, and his weapon, the Emerald Blade, enhanced both strength and attack speed.

Yet even so, he was completely overpowered by Xia Yan.

"Xia Yan, die!" He Changlou howled, though it was impossible to tell whether the emotion was his or Qingxia’s.

Suddenly, a marsh spread from beneath He Changlou, engulfing the entire battlefield.

He Changlou’s figure blurred, appearing before Xia Yan in an instant, blade raised high.

Trapped by the marsh, Xia Yan’s movements were hindered, but he wielded his morphing blade with practiced precision, defending himself without the slightest loss of composure.

He Changlou’s attacks were fast and fierce, but Xia Yan’s defense was solid and unshakable.

Why hasn’t that Angel assassin arrived yet? Qingxia fretted. Though He Changlou was strong, she sensed the threat Xia Yan posed.

He must be ambushed quickly, killed swiftly—this human prodigy must not be allowed to grow.

"Die, die, die!" He Changlou roared, his green blade flashing ever faster, like a streak of emerald lightning.

Xia Yan said nothing, silently fending off He Changlou’s onslaught.

"Die!" He Changlou shouted, and from the emerald blade shot several blades of wind.

Xia Yan remained calm, shifting his grip from heavy to light, slashing several times in quick succession to scatter the wind blades.

By now, Xia Yan had to admit He Changlou’s strength—without firearms, victory would be difficult; caught in this marsh, a single mistake could mean death.

But Xia Yan was no fool. He did not believe He Changlou alone was enough to kill him. There must be another plan.

He kept back a large portion of his strength, ready to counter any hidden attack.

He had two advantages: the 402 Judgement pistol, and his ally, Miss Lanxin, hidden nearby.

Miss Lanxin had promised to intervene if he was truly in danger.

Xia Yan could afford to wait—he was not worried in the least.

It was his enemies who could not afford to drag this out.

"Wait."

Xia Yan was in no hurry. He hadn’t used his abilities, so his energy consumption was minimal. He Changlou, by contrast, was burning through power by maintaining two abilities at once.

A war of attrition would only weaken He Changlou.

Just then, Xibons, the Angel assassin, finally arrived on the scene, lurking in the grass several hundred meters from the battlefield, eyes fixed on the fight, ready to strike at any moment...