Chapter 644: Control

Its voice was thick with obvious disgust; when that disgust showed on its round face, for some reason it looked especially in need of a beating.

"How come it's another mecha—"

It paused, as if recalling something unpleasant.

"Forget it, I won't mention it. Anyway, this one looks uglier than that one."

Weiba Daye's small head flame shot up higher.

"Who are you calling ugly!"

Its voice exploded from the mecha's chest, filled with the anger of being hit where it hurts: "How is my shell ugly?! Look at these lines! Look at these patterns! Look at this—"

It lowered its head to look at its mecha body, patched with paper ash gray and black, then at its small head completely out of proportion to its body, and its voice suddenly dropped.

"Forget it, it is a bit ugly."

Saber had no interest in joining this discussion about beauty and ugliness.

Her mind held only one thought: the chibi little thing before her was definitely not the Tengcun Lixiang she knew.

At least, not now.

She didn't know what that girl had become.

But she knew one thing: the aura emanating from that little thing was completely different from the Tengcun Lixiang she remembered.

"Step back."

"Everyone, step back."

Ilya froze for a moment, but she didn't ask why.

She heard in Saber's voice the kind of alertness only found on a battlefield.

She pulled Robin's hand and stepped back two paces, taking cover behind a stone pillar, exposing only half her head to look out.

Weiba Daye's mecha also stepped back, but not because it heard Saber's words; rather, it too sensed something.

The cyan-gold flames on it burned even brighter.

Saber stood there, the black greatsword held before her, tip pointing at the ground, but her fingers had tightened on the hilt, ready to raise it at any moment.

She stared at Gudazi, at that face still wearing a smile, and said word by word: "You are not my Master. At least, not now."

Gudazi tilted its head.

On that round face, the smile didn't fade—it deepened.

Its mouth corners turned up, and in its overly bright eyes something surged.

"Heh heh heh."

When that laugh issued from its small mouth, everyone present felt as if something had pricked their ears.

"Saber,"

Its voice carried a hard-to-describe playful flavor, strong like noodles drowned in too much soy sauce, making one's throat tighten: "Do you think you can resist me?"

It raised its hand.

That hand was tiny, looking like a child's toy hand.

But when that hand lifted, Saber felt something inside her body being tugged, as if a thread inside her had been pulled out.

"Don't forget,"

Gudazi's voice continued, as if stating something ordinary: "Your magic, and you yourself, are mine."

Saber's body stiffened.

She felt her magic flowing outward.

Like a flock of tamed sheep that follow whoever whistles.

Her hand moved on its own.

The Curry Stick rose from her hand, its tip swinging from pointing at the ground to pointing at the sky, then from the sky to pointing—at Weiba Daye.

Weiba Daye's small head flame shot up higher.

"You—what are you doing?"

Its voice exploded from the mecha's chest, thick with obvious panic: "Look carefully! I'm an ally! Not an enemy! Who are you pointing your sword at?!"

Saber's mouth could still move.

She opened her mouth and, with all her strength, shouted two words: "Watch out—!"

As those two words burst from her lips, her arm swung out uncontrollably.

The black greatsword carried a heavy wind as it slashed toward Weiba Daye, the scarlet patterns on its blade flaring blindingly bright for an instant, like a bolt of lightning split from the heavens.

Weiba Daye's mecha reacted quickly.

Before the sword could fall, it rolled sideways; the over-three-meter-tall iron lump rolled twice on the ground, grinding gravel and tiles into a clatter, then bounced up and stood firm.

It lowered its head to glance at the spot it had just occupied, where Saber's sword had carved a deep, long groove, the edges still smoking.

"You're crazy!"

Saber did not answer.

Her body no longer obeyed her at all.

Gudazi stood there, its raised hand still hanging in midair, fingers slightly curved, as if playing an invisible piano.

Its mouth corners turned up, and on its round face hung a smile that sent chills down one's spine.

"Saber!"

"First take care of that ugly thing; it's an eyesore to me."

Saber's body moved again.

The black greatsword was pulled from the ground, kicking up a spray of stone and dust, and lunged toward Weiba Daye.

Her speed was astonishing; each step left a deep footprint, and the sword in her hand spun once, tip pointing forward like a charging lance.

Weiba Daye cursed, and that Mecha leapt up from the ground, flashing to the side.

Saber's sword brushed past it, scraping the armor on its left arm, leaving a deep scar on the dark‑purple metal; sparks flew from the scar, flashing briefly in the dim light before extinguishing.

Damn!

Weiba Daye's voice burst out from the Mecha's chest cavity, "You hit more accurately! No—stop hitting!"

Saber ignored it.

Her body, under Gudazi's control, turned a direction, and the sword slashed again from another angle, this time aiming at Weiba Daye's waist.

The Mecha of Weiba Daye crouched down, the sword swept over its head, cutting off a piece of the Flame on its little head; the severed Flame floated in the air for a moment, then fell like a kite with a broken string, landing on the ground and scorching a few smoking pits.

My hair—no, my Flame—no, my head—!

Weiba Daye's voice was already a bit incoherent, "You stop it for me!"

Saber's body paused for a moment.

It wasn't she who stopped; it was Gudazi who made her stop.

The raised hand hovered in mid‑air for a second, then turned, its fingers pointing at the stone pillar where Ilya and Robin were hiding.

Saber's pupils suddenly constricted.

No—!

When that word left her mouth, the voice changed, carrying an obvious panic.

But her body had already turned.

The black great sword was drawn back from Weiba Daye's direction, Saber's foot stepped on the ground, she turned completely, facing the crooked stone pillar.

She bent her leg, then launched herself like an arrow, charging toward Ilya and Robin's direction.