Chapter 515

Lin Xian, who had originally planned to head north to explore the Harco Orbital Line, detected violent explosive fluctuations through his reconnaissance drone; analysis indicated they were clearly caused by human weapons.

He immediately altered his course to investigate, and sure enough, spotted the commotion of Lei Meng’s squad in combat; upon realizing there were living people present, his first instinct was to attempt contact to gather essential information.

But as his reconnaissance drone neared the battlefield, he immediately recognized the Nightwalkers’ cloaks worn by Lei Meng’s team—he had seen similar ones on Zhou Wuer and Pengpeng—and then he sensed Kiki’s telekinetic signature; without hesitation, he acted. After shielding that Gao Liren’s probes last night, he had suspected this same dark energy resonance frequency might counter the crimson wall, so he unleashed it directly on the group, also to avoid friendly fire.

BOOM!

Lin Xian, clad in black Nightstar power armor, strode through a battlefield drenched in blood and smoke; 6,000 “Iron Man” and “Dragon Girl” combat mechs stood motionless across every corner of the field, the ground littered with charred limbs or neatly severed stumps from VK electric blades; after being hunted down, these monsters released even more crimson mist, further reducing visibility.

This was his first time deploying his mech army, yet Lin Xian had no interest in evaluating battle data—he stepped quickly across the scorched earth toward the central observation window.

WHOOSH~

Before he could reach them, a streak of light slashed through the crimson fog, hurtling toward Lin Xian at astonishing speed; the impact forced him to stagger backward several steps despite his armored frame. The figure, through his cold armor, clung to him with all her strength, and a familiar voice, trembling with emotion, rang in his ears:

“I knew it was you! I knew you wouldn’t die!”

Hearing that familiar voice, Lin Xian’s heart jolted; without hesitation, he extended his arms and embraced her tightly, even through the armor. The two held each other tightly, time seeming to pause for a moment. The warmth in his arms stirred complex emotions within Lin Xian; countless words condensed into one low, guilt-laden whisper:

“I’m sorry…”

He didn’t know how to explain—only an apology remained. Since his crystalline evolution had entered hibernation, he had seen that bizarre planetary head, then inexplicably been captured by the Black Star celestial body, spent three months achieving celestial resonance, and upon waking, found this unrecognizable, crimson-saturated world—all felt like a dream from another life, weighing heavily on his heart.

Kiki, in his arms, heard those words “I’m sorry,” and her suppressed emotions erupted; suddenly, she burst into loud sobs, pounding his chest plate with her fists, crying out incoherently: “You damn bastard! I thought you’d never wake up! I thought you were dead! Waaah…”

Only then did Lei Meng and his team members snap out of their shock, cautiously gathering around; the brief lull in battle brought no peace—the crimson mist around them churned violently, and from its depths came a rustling and low growls far exceeding the previous numbers, clearly signaling something far greater was brewing.

Lei Meng forced down the storm within him, compelled himself to calm, and fixed his sharp gaze on Lin Xian: “You… are the Swordbearer, Lin Xian?”

“It’s me.” Lin Xian’s voice emerged through his visor, steady and certain.

Upon hearing the reply, Li Site and Song Wei behind Lei Meng all drew sharp breaths.

“Holy shit, you’re actually still alive?!” A Long blurted out in astonishment.

“No wonder a safehouse suddenly appeared out of nowhere—damn, I thought we’d been captured by something…” Li Site added.

Song Wei studied Lin Xian and said: “Matches the headquarters’ intel—spontaneously manufacturing large-scale industrial weapons. Mechanical psychokinesis is indeed powerful!”

Lei Meng took a deep breath, glanced with complex emotion at Kiki’s sobbing back, then, as squad leader, snapped to order: “The outcome is better than expected, but this isn’t the time for reunions—the crimson tide may erupt! If too many Hunters fixate on us, we’re done! Our mission was to rescue you—this place is too dangerous to stay. Come with us back to the safehouse!” His speech was rapid, laced with urgent authority.

Lin Xian immediately agreed: “Alright!”

He bent down to ask about Kiki’s condition, but found the girl now utterly uncomposed—like a child who’d finally found safety after unbearable suffering—she clung to his waist, face buried against his chest plate, sobbing uncontrollably with soft, hiccuping cries, her shoulders shaking. Lin Xian’s heart softened; he knew she had endured unimaginable fear and hardship alone during this time. He gently patted her back, saying nothing more.

Immediately, the group moved out. Several rugged-looking flying motorcycles roared to life, their engines growling as they tore through the thick crimson mist, hugging the ground at high speed; Kiki pulled Lin Xian along, using telekinesis to fly beside them. They skimmed low over the terrain, racing eastward, and soon, through blurred vision, arrived at a small coastal town named Parita near the Harco shoreline—a place Lin Xian had planned to bypass, since the map showed this region saturated with terrifying crimson levels, and he’d assumed no survivors remained. Yet the Phoenix Society had established a outpost here.

Lin Xian followed along, scanning the crimson-covered seaside town. The town was eerily silent, as if all color had turned gray and lifeless; houses looked as if they’d rotted for twenty years, offering no sign of life. Piles of charred corpse remains littered street corners, all shrouded in thick, fog-like crimson. Standing on such streets, he wouldn’t be surprised if any horror emerged from the mist.

The flying motorcycles skillfully weaved through twisted alleys, finally plunging into an unremarkable abandoned garage. Inside, the space was empty, covered in dust and crimson moss. After the squad stopped, Li Site closed the garage’s rolling door, operated something on his tactical computer, then said to Lin Xian: “Watch your step.”

CLUNK!

Lin Xian instinctively stepped back—the ground emitted a dull metallic scraping sound as a heavy armored plate slowly slid open, revealing a spacious elevator. Lin Xian was surprised; beneath this hellhole lay a bunker?

And it looked newly built.

Soon, everyone entered. The elevator doors closed, then descended smoothly and swiftly.

After a long descent, the elevator doors opened again.

Before him, the space opened up—Lin Xian realized this bunker was surprisingly large. After the elevator stopped, they entered a spacious decontamination chamber. Kiki gave Lin Xian a glance, and the group spread out; instantly, dozens of automatic nozzles appeared on the walls, spraying a rain-like mist that washed all blood and grime from their power armors.

Lin Xian sensed that, besides the dark energy resonance frequency, this isolation chamber contained at least three other energy-based isolation grids. Sensing his curiosity, Kiki whispered to him over the comms channel:

“Crimson, radiation, corrosion, and other hazardous substances discovered by the Phoenix Society—all must be washed and isolated.”

Lin Xian exhaled, reassuring himself: “Better than nothing.”

Soon, they exited the isolation chamber and began removing their power armors. Outside, cold metal walls reflected the steady white glow of evenly spaced ceiling tubes. The air carried the scent of disinfectant, engine oil, and the unique blend of human settlements. Lin Xian’s gaze swept the area: pipes snaked along ceilings and walls, emergency lights glowed faint green, and the vast main hall teemed with figures—roughly seventy or eighty people, some maintaining weapons, others tending to strange instruments.

As they walked down the corridor, Lei Meng pointed to this bustling, vigilant underground world and explained to Lin Xian: “This is the Phoenix Society’s Crimson Outpost—a hastily constructed base after the crimson outbreak. We call it the ‘Safehouse.’”

“Safehouse?” Lin Xian glanced at Kiki, then at Lei Meng: “What’s it for?”

“Experiments, reconnaissance, and forward support,” said Song Wei, now unarmored—a short-haired, efficient woman in her early thirties. “The crimson spreads too fast. We still need to salvage supplies, and as Nightwalkers, we must understand this disaster as quickly as possible so headquarters can issue timely countermeasures!”

HSSS~

At that moment, the automatic door at the corridor’s end slid open. A group moved swiftly toward them, led by a middle-aged man—tall and thin, his face worn as if he’d been drained of blood ten times by the crimson wall. Yet despite this, his eyes were deep and sharp, gleaming with intensity.