The Beloved Guide Was Forced in a Love-Rival Shura Field - Chapter 108

He was mesmerized, staring at the pale-faced, frail young man on the screen as if he were looking at a priceless treasure.

“It’s not similarity, not imitation…”

“But… exactly the same.”

He reached out his hand, tracing Ning Ning’s outline through the cold screen, his voice trembling with a mix of restrained fear and longing.

“The perfect resonant frequency…”

…

Above the ruins.

The overwhelming dizziness finally engulfed Ning Ning’s last shred of consciousness.

He felt as light as a feather, drifting into boundless darkness.

His body lost all support and gently fell backward.

“Ning Ning!”

For the first time, a note of unrestrained panic appeared in Gu Qingfeng’s voice.

He immediately reached out, trying to fully catch this treasure before it fell.

However, just as his fingers were about to brush Ning Ning’s collar—

A terrifying gale, charged with the force of thunder, roared past him from the side!

It was not a psychic pressure.

It was pure, concentrated, blood-and-fire-laden killing intent!

And a shadow, black as night!

Fast!

So fast that even Gu Qingfeng, an S-Class Guide, could only make out a blurred outline!

“Boom—!”

A heavy, muffled sound like a massive object hitting the ground.

The fiercely imposing captain of the Guardians who had just stood before Gu Qingfeng was now hurled across the ruins, landing meters away in a heap of debris, life uncertain.

The scene instantly fell silent.

Everyone was stunned by this sudden turn of events.

Gu Qingfeng’s pupils constricted sharply.

He turned sharply.

There, a tall, erect, mountain-like figure had appeared between him and Ning Ning.

The man wore a spotless black Imperial Marshal uniform, stained with smoke and dust, the emblem of the Empire’s supreme military power glinting coldly and bloodily in the dim light of the ruins.

He faced away from Gu Qingfeng, his broad back a wall no one could breach, completely shielding Ning Ning and the world beyond.

The suffocating, SSS-Class Sentinel-level aura rolled through the area like a silent tsunami.

It was not aimed at anyone in particular.

It was a pure, domineering presence, announcing ownership by existence itself.

The air seemed to be sucked dry.

The surrounding S-Class Guardians and A-Class Imperial Medical Team members felt as small as ants.

Even breathing became difficult; their bodies shivered instinctively with fear.

Gu Qingfeng, whose face always carried a gentle and courteous smile, sank completely for the first time.

He looked at the figure and spoke slowly, voice icy and tense.

“Xiao Lin.”

The Marshal did not turn.

He didn’t even acknowledge Gu Qingfeng.

All his attention focused on the soft, collapsing treasure in his arms.

Just as Ning Ning was about to hit the ground, a pair of strong, precise, yet infinitely gentle hands caught him.

Hands with clearly defined knuckles and calloused palms, hardened from years of holding weapons, yet soft as if touching fragile porcelain.

Ning Ning’s back pressed into a firm, heated chest.

The familiar scent of cold pine and faint gunpowder immediately enveloped him.

Not Gu Qingfeng’s faint, calculating woody fragrance.

But a domineering, aggressive presence that filled Ning Ning with deep, soul-level reassurance.

It was Xiao Lin’s scent.

Ning Ning’s chaotic consciousness miraculously found a moment of respite under this comforting aura.

He struggled to lift his heavy eyelids and saw the man’s sharply defined jawline and thin lips pressed into a straight line.

“…Xiao Lin?”

He whispered unconsciously, soft as a cat’s meow, laden with reliance and grievance.

Hearing his voice, the man’s nearly world-freezing cold aura softened ever so slightly.

Xiao Lin bent his head; his deep, dark eyes surged with raging anger, lingering fear, and… an unyielding, overwhelming tenderness.

His gaze swept over Ning Ning’s pale face, dry cracked lips, and finally rested on the blood-stained, charred yellow wildflower on Ning Ning’s chest.

His pupils shrank violently.

A terrifying, nearly tangible killing intent erupted from him!

He slowly lifted his eyes, looking past Ning Ning, and for the first time fixed Gu Qingfeng with his gaze.

It was not the look of a man facing a rival.

It was the gaze of someone… looking at a corpse.

Cold, violent, devoid of any emotion.

Gu Qingfeng met his gaze without fear, even curving a subtle, provocative, elegant smile.

“Marshal, you’re late.”

Gu Qingfeng’s voice was quiet but clearly reached Xiao Lin.

“You missed Ning Ning’s miracle.”

“You weren’t there when he was crowned.”

“Now he’s tired. What he needs is professional medical care and quiet recuperation, not your…”

Gu Qingfeng’s gaze subtly swept over the green alien blood still fresh on Xiao Lin’s uniform.

“…blood-soaked, savage protection.”

Every word pierced Xiao Lin at his most sensitive spot like a poisoned needle.

Yet, Xiao Lin did not explode with anger as expected.

He silently, coldly glanced at Gu Qingfeng.

He removed the heavy Marshal cloak that symbolized supreme authority, the heat and personal aura of the man enveloping Ning Ning, completely wrapping him.

Sealed tightly.

Impermeable.

As if using everything he had to rebuild an indestructible, isolated fortress around his treasure.

Even the tiny wildflower was wrapped inside.

A god belonging only to him.

Faith belonging only to him.

Warmth, darkness, and that uniquely reassuring Xiao Lin scent instantly engulfed all of Ning Ning’s senses.

All outside sounds and light were completely cut off.

Gu Qingfeng’s smiling face vanished from sight.

Ning Ning’s tense nerves finally relaxed.

He nestled into the warm embrace like a tired young bird finding its nest.

Then, in the next second, a powerful force lifted him effortlessly.

A princess carry.

Ning Ning’s cheek pressed against the man’s solid, warm chest through the thick cloak.

He could clearly hear the steady, drum-like beat of the man’s heart.

One beat, then another.

Drumming into his ears, into his heart.

Driving away all fear, unease, and fatigue.

Xiao Lin carried him, turning, walking forward without a glance at Gu Qingfeng.

That tall, straight back—resolute and domineering—seemed to declare with action:

Game over.

My person, I am taking him.

In the last moment before falling completely asleep, Ning Ning seemed to hear the man’s low, slightly hoarse and trembling voice, whispering above him.

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