Chapter 93: Eat me

Eat me.

Mental power is like skin; in normal use I set the threshold to the minimum, just like clenching a fist to hit someone—aside from pain, there's no feeling.

Such mental power that disturbs another's mental landscape, this excessive behavior, in the default rules between Guide and Sentinel, is just hooliganism.

Fu Guang held her smoking‑hot head, dazedly recalling the contract she made with Xi Guang; from the White Tower she had seen the data, and only then realized her action, in the Guide's view, really was over the line.

On the white paper, cold black characters read: Guide, do not lightly open your own mental landscape for a Sentinel—remember!!

Now I recall, each character is filled with the mental power of an S‑rank Guide; this power leaves a mark on the viewer's mental landscape, causing the Guide to instinctively reject it.

Fu Guang hated being controlled; when she noticed the mark, she silently erased it.

Now she also understood why an S‑rank Guide would say that—she had been careless.

Fu Guang weakly leaned against the Sentinel's embrace, "Don't play the hooligan."

Her mental power struggled to slip out of Lan'an's tightly wrapped mental power, her voice gritting with teeth.

"You're wounded, you need energy." Lan'an's voice sounded faint, yet each word was clear, transmitted into her ear.

Dark‑blue mental power suddenly seized more gold‑blue mental threads, bundling them like a ball on a winch, and sent them through the opened mental channel into Lan'an's mental landscape.

"Why are you thinking of another man?" Lan'an's tense voice suddenly appeared in Fu Guang's mind.

Fu Guang blinked, half a beat later realizing Lan'an was speaking of Xi Guang.

She felt her head tighten, then remembered that when the mental landscape is open, Guide and Sentinel can hear each other's thoughts.

Fu Guang panted, dividing her feelings into two, calmly recalling: when the mental channel linked with Xi Guang, what had she thought? She shouldn't have let Xi Guang know.

Lan'an's voice suddenly softened, seeming to press against her ear, sticky and soft: "So I'm the one you trust most?"

Realizing this, Lan'an's voice rose, and the fluctuation of his mental power grew.

Fu Guang changed the subject, asking Lan'an, "How much longer until we reach the Sea Abyss?"

Lan'an didn't reply right away, seeming still immersed in his excitement.

In the mental landscape, dark‑blue mental power twined like a vine around the gold‑blue mental power; where the dark‑blue touched the gold‑blue, it lightened, turning into energy that replenished her mental landscape.

These mental powers were then sent by Fu Guang back through the mental pathway to Lan'an's mental landscape, replenishing his rapidly draining mental power.

It seemed their mental power hadn't changed at all, yet because Lan'an kept expending it to resist attacks and to replenish Fu Guang, it actually decreased.

Still, the cycle got going; after processing, the mental power became noticeably tougher, with more water element attached, exerting a more‑than‑the‑sum effect.

Lan'an's humanity finally prevailed, able to understand Fu Guang's words; he lifted his head from the tornado, discerning the scene reflected in his pupils: "Soon, just half a system time."

Lan'an exhaled, his lips touching Fu Guang's crown, for the first time feeling that lacking a mental form was a mistake.

Inside a Guide's mental landscape, only a mental form resists assimilation; without hostile intent, mental power carrying a Sentinel's consciousness can exist there at most about ten minutes.

Even a brief glance at the King's mental landscape revealed to him that Fu Guang had suffered grave injury.

Within the mental landscape, everything lay shattered, borderless, mental power leaking out endlessly.

He had thought…… he had thought he was a Guide‑waste, unable to control his mental power, only able to let it drift.

King, you may have him or not, but you cannot be someone who can't control his mental power, can't suppress his allure, and will…… only attract Sentinels as a waste.

It turned out he was just wrong—wildly wrong.

Lan'an gritted his teeth, hard to imagine who bore such deep hatred toward her, wanting to destroy her foundation and reduce a stunningly talented Guide to a wreck.

A Guide unable to control his breath, with no means of resistance, and the Sentinel's vicious nature clear to him—it's easy to imagine what such a person would face.

Even imagining, Lan'an could not picture such a Guide bearing Fu Guang's name—fear, relief, killing intent, different yet equally strong emotions swept his mind.

Making his temples throb nonstop, Lan'an suppressed his own killing intent, but didn't want it to taint his mental power and worsen Fu Guang's state; in an instant he also quelled the prairie‑fire‑like emotions.

A fishy smell spread in his mouth.

Blue Egg wobbled, feeling the mental power at his mouth suddenly turn spicy; just as he wanted another bite, the gold‑blue wave pushed him to the mental landscape beyond the barrier.

Lan'an's mental power, just about to follow, was assimilated, turned into pure force, and dissipated in Fu Guang's mental landscape.

Fu Guang sensed Lan'an's thoughts—anger, fear, killing intent, all emotions flowing into her mental landscape, just like her own; she tasted them bit by bit, distinguishing sour, sweet, bitter, spicy.

Her heart softened; in the mental landscape, the gold‑blue mental power gently wrapped the agitated power, soothing it softly.

Outside the mental landscape, mottled energy clusters like tiny energy pellets kept striking Lan'an.

Blue‑tailed Shark People's scales—some cracked, some curled—exposed the tender flesh beneath, blood seeping from the bare skin.

A golden tail flashed in his embrace, as always perfectly beautiful, showing the girl in his arms was well protected.

Fu Guang's nostrils held only one smell: the strong scent of blood.

At this moment, as kin, in danger, her fangs were provoked by the kin's bloody scent; her sharp little teeth protruded from her lips, pressing against Lan'an's chest.

Because her arms were overly tight, Fu Guang could only watch as even beneath her fangs a hint of bloody odor showed, her tongue tip going numb.

"When we get there, eat me."

His body bore dozens of wounds, yet Lan'an could feel only a rice‑sized hole in his chest; he drew a shallow breath, his chest heaving rapidly.

"Eat me, and you won't be this weak." He exerted all his power, tempting and luring his King, his Guide, his beloved, to eat him.

Fu Guang said nothing; her mental power, like a pencil sketch, ran into Lan'an's mental landscape and kicked him hard twice.

Two straight lines bent, arms akimbo on the lake surface: "If I wanted to eat you, I'd have done it already—you say!"

"Don't talk like it's a last‑will; remember what you promised."