ABFMV Chapter 14 Part 1

When Qiye woke from unconsciousness, the first thing he felt wasn’t pain but a warmth seeping into his very lungs.

The agony that should have killed him was completely gone. If not for the dried blood still marking his body, proving the wounds had once been real, he might have thought it had all been a dream.

Even the period of weakness that normally followed taking Purple Twin Grass had passed unnaturally fast. Now he felt the power of his bloodline fully merged—stronger and purer than before.

That shouldn’t have been possible. He knew just how severe the beast’s strike had been. And according to the inheritance records, the weakness was supposed to last two full days and nights. Not even one day had passed. How could it be over so soon?

The only variable was the injection Xu Linlang had given him…

He slowly lifted his hand to touch the spot where the needle had pierced him. The vicious wound in his abdomen was gone, leaving only smooth, flawless skin.

What she had given him wasn’t an anti-zerg agent at all, but a treatment—an emergency nano-healing serum that had restored him instantly.

Once again, she had saved him. And he had wrongly accused her.

That kind of drug was so rare and costly to develop that even highborn nobles could hope to receive only one vial in their lifetime, unless they achieved something extraordinary.

And Xu Linlang had used her only dose… on him.

She wanted him to live.

Even though he wore the appearance of a monster, she still wanted him to live.

Qiye pressed his burning eyes with the heel of his hand. He had never once felt the urge to cry, no matter how hopeless things had been before. All he’d ever carried was resentment, hatred, indifference… numbness.

But now, some strange, overwhelming emotion clawed its way through him.

The heart he thought long rotted and hollow beat once again—steady, alive, vibrant.

Like a blind man lost in eternal darkness, struggling for so long, only to suddenly glimpse a faint light.

He clung to the warmth she had given him, greedy for it, starving for it.

He had thought her kindness was a serpent waiting to strike. But in truth, he was the snake in the farmer’s tale.

Her compassion was what carried him through the times when his body had been nothing but shredded flesh.

Qiye let out a broken laugh. She was the one who was romantic and innocent. He was the one cold and cruel. She had given him her greatest kindness, and he had abandoned her.

How could he face her now?

Should he pretend nothing had happened and greet her with shallow words? Or should he bear the ugly darkness festering in his heart?

He couldn’t bear to imagine that gentle face twisted in disgust toward him.

She must regret it now, he thought. Regretted wasting her one vial of medicine on him. He hadn’t even thanked her—he had only thrown her aside and walked away.

If it were him, he’d regret it too. No matter how soft, how kind a heart was, no one could endlessly swallow indignities for another’s sake.

Someone had offered him true sincerity—and he had pushed it away.

His vision blurred as he looked at the ribbon tied neatly around his abdomen, finished with a beautiful bow.

Tentatively, he reached toward it, then froze, after a long time, then he dared to brush it with his fingertips, as if it were fragile glass.

The ribbon was soft to the touch, as if it still held the warmth of her fingers.

Curling up, he hugged the bow to his chest, pretending he was holding Xu Linlang herself.

He had no idea how to face her again.

Then a piercing scream echoed from the cave entrance, snapping him back to reality. His head shot up. That was Xu Linlang’s voice—he could never mistake it.

Something had happened. Nothing else could make her cry out like that.

Huge wings unfurled from his back as he launched forward like a storm wind, panic flooding eyes that were usually so cold.

He had never prayed to any god, but now he whispered a desperate plea in his heart: Please, let her be safe.

And then—

He saw the girl who had become the center of his heart, skewered through the right leg by a grotesque beast’s claw, unconscious on the ground. Her body trembled faintly from the pain, but she did not wake.

The creature was a hybrid—not just half-blood, but a failed experiment.

A mix of beast and zerg.

For the first time, Qiye felt disgust at the zerg blood flowing in his own veins.

Ugly. Vile. Every word humanity had used to describe the zerg was true.

With ease, he tore the creature’s limb away. A part of him wanted to do far more—to make it suffer, to punish it for daring to harm Xu Linlang.

To kill it outright felt far too merciful.

But Xu Linlang was here. He didn’t know when she might wake, and he couldn’t let her see such brutality. He couldn’t let her see what kind of monster he really was.

So he only crushed the creature’s neck beneath his foot, forcing its head forever down, its body stiffening into a corpse.

Once it was over, he gathered Xu Linlang into his arms and carefully drew the claw from her leg with the lightest touch he could manage.

He called her name softly. No response.

His fingers brushed her neck—her body was even colder than he feared.

Her injury was serious, maybe worse than he could tell. He didn’t dare move her recklessly. All he could do was hold her and watch her unconscious face in silence.

It felt like time had frozen. The world had gone mute. Only the sound of his own frantic heartbeat filled his ears.

Too fast. Far beyond normal.

Why was it racing? Fear? Of what?

Too many things.

He feared she wouldn’t survive the pain.
He feared the wound would scar her pale leg forever.