Wu Xiaomi’s back was pressed tightly against the barrier wall.
To her left, lay the professor’s body—smashed into nothing but pulpy flesh.
To her right, the severed corpse of a high school girl, torn in half.
And directly ahead stood the cause of it all— the monster, gripping its spiked mace, its snarling bull head glaring straight at her.
Ahahaha… looks like I’m next~
Faced with that overwhelming disparity in strength, and her own exhausted body…
She gave up.
There was no way out.
Nanalia pounded the barrier with her fists, eyes welling with tears.
She wanted to help, but having just activated the barrier, she was momentarily powerless.
“Xiaomi…” she stared blankly as the spiked mace swung down—more panicked than Wu Xiaomi herself.
The shrine was always peaceful.
She’d grown up there, away from the world.
Most villagers treated her with reverence, calling her Lady Priestess.
Meeting Wu Xiaomi was an accident.
Discovering the Spirit Source of the Goddess of Fertility within her—an even greater one.
And yet, those accidents made Nanalia quietly happy.
In Wu Xiaomi, she saw herself—
A smaller, timid, miniature version of herself.
It made her feel strangely warm. Curious.
Protective.
As if she were raising another version of herself.
As if she were nurturing a daughter.
Suddenly, life had meaning.
She watched Xiaomi clumsily dance, shedding her crude habits and growing elegant, luminous.
Watched her fumble through her first experience as a girl, that bewildered, helpless little face—
Nanalia wanted to wrap her in a hug and never let go.
Watched her awaken her Spirit Source, and though her talent far outshone her own… she felt even prouder.
Even when Xiaomi, self-taught, managed to open a barrier like hers—
saving another girl in the nick of time…
Only to plunge into the Abyss.
It had only been a week.
But the thought of losing her hurt like a blade twisting in Nanalia’s chest.
That was her apprentice.
Not just a student—
But like a child she’d raised with her own hands.
“No more giving up!”
Wu Xiaomi’s eyes snapped open.
She dropped low, rolling right under the monster’s waist.
[Sequence 79 – Spirit-Hunter Instinct].
She made a promise to help Nanalia find the crystal!
Lying here waiting to die?
That’s not how a real hero dies!
I’m not the kind of coward who backs down at the first sign of danger!
Even if I’ve lost my balls, I’ve still got guts!
So what if I don’t have teammates?
So what if this is the final boss fight of the entire raid—alone?
If I can’t beat it head-on, I’ll outmaneuver it.
If I don’t know the mechanics, I’ll figure them out myself!
No teammates?
Then I’ll solo this bastard!
[Now that’s more like it~]
A voice echoed from nowhere—its lofty tone and seductive lilt oddly familiar.
But Wu Xiaomi didn’t have time to process it.
The monster couldn’t turn fast enough.
Wu Xiaomi sprang up, grabbed the knife the schoolgirl had stabbed into its back—
“Pshk! Pshk!”
Blood sprayed like shaken beer bottles, gushing wildly from the wounds.
“You can bleed. You can die. You’re nothing special,” Wu Xiaomi muttered, fired up.
Her blood was boiling, ignited by the threat of death.
Using the agility granted by her hunter’s instinct, she narrowly avoided the monster’s next devastating smash.
Chunks of stone exploded in all directions like shrapnel.
Despite the pain of debris pelting her body, Wu Xiaomi kept circling behind.
The back!
That’s the weak point!
“Squelch! Squelch!”
Big but slow.
Strong but vulnerable.
Muscle-bound monsters like this had poor turning speed.
Another geyser of blood erupted.
But Wu Xiaomi didn’t get greedy.
She knew she was too short—hitting a vital spot meant she’d have to jump.
And if she jumped, she wouldn’t be able to dodge.
She’d end up like that schoolgirl—smashed in a single blow.
“Cow—ard!”
The monster roared in fury, eyes glowing crimson as she stabbed it again and again from behind.
That was when Xiaomi realized it could talk.
“Whoosh—!”
The mace swept across her back like a freight train, the wind of it grazing her by less than a centimeter.
She could see bits of meat clinging to the spikes.
If not for the reflex boost from her spirit-hunter instincts—
If not for those grueling days of Nanalia yelling at her to practice dancing—
She’d be dead. No doubt.
Everything she’d trained these past few days was erupting to its full potential.
And Nanalia could see it clearly.
This was like a real-life trial by fire.
Every movement, every dodge, every feint—
They were all her techniques.
It was like watching a butterfly dance through the battlefield.
She was delivering a flawless performance—one that would’ve made any teacher proud.
And yet, knowing what her student was up against twisted Nanalia’s heart with helpless agony.
“Squelch! Squelch!”
Wu Xiaomi didn’t stab just anywhere—she focused entirely on the monster’s butt.
Chunks of flesh had already been gouged from its rear.
One wound was so deep the bone beneath was visible.
She had only a small knife. If she wanted to live, she had to keep jabbing it into the same spot.
It wasn’t her intention to perform a drawn-out execution, but somehow, she was conducting a disturbingly precise surgical procedure.
First, the buttocks.
“This one’s for Professor Lin!”
Then a slash at the thigh, severing muscle.
“This one’s for that grad student!”
She rolled to the side, slicing the creature’s tendon on the way down.
“This one’s for that high school girl!”
Then, with a backward thrust, she jammed the knife into the monster’s femoral artery.
“And this one is—”
Before she could even finish the sentence, a chill surged up her spine.
Right where she had gouged out flesh on the monster’s rear, a grotesque transformation was unfolding.
The shredded meat twitched.
Then, rapidly, impossibly fast—it grew.
Twisted.
Formed a face.
A mocking face.
From either side of that face, two thick, fur-covered arms burst forth.
Before Wu Xiaomi could react, one of those muscular arms punched her square in the gut.
She went flying—slammed into the barrier with a brutal thud, then crumpled to the ground.
The blow almost made her vomit. Inside her, it felt like her organs had been scrambled into soup.
Pain.
She curled up on the floor, unable even to draw breath.
This wasn’t something sheer willpower could overcome.
Her body had had enough. It was screaming in protest like a machine whose gears had snapped out of place, unable to move.
And death… was slowly, inevitably closing in.
She lay there, helpless, curled up, watching the monster approach—slowly, deliberately, mace in hand.
“You… die now…”
Its words were clumsy, barely intelligible.
But Wu Xiaomi could feel it.
Rage.
It was truly angry now because of the wounds she’d inflicted.
“Kuh—haaah—”
Angry, huh?
Good.
Better than having accomplished nothing at all.
The monster raised its mace but didn’t immediately smash her to bits.
Instead, it pressed one of the spiked tips against her abdomen… and pushed.
Slowly.
Wu Xiaomi gripped the spike with trembling hands.
She couldn’t push it away…
The strength gap was just too massive.
It hurt.
It hurt so much.
Her consciousness blurred beneath wave after wave of unbearable pain.
……
What she didn’t notice…
Was the silver twin-snake anklet on her foot—quietly reactivating.
Two snakes, once dormant, began to stir.
Their bodies stretched, coiling up her calves.
Their triangular heads slithered soundlessly beneath her skirt.
And against her soft, pale inner thighs, they flicked their tongues.
Opened their fangs.
……
Suddenly—
The monster vanished.
So did the barrier.
The crowd of onlookers.
The broken corpses.
Everything was gone.
Not far off, a woman sat with her back turned to Wu Xiaomi, at a stone table.
She wore a dark evening dress.
The velvet bodice clung tightly to her chest and stomach, but the entire back was bare—revealing smooth, flawless skin from shoulder to waist.
On that snow-pale back, a pink sigil of chained markings shimmered like an enchantment—seductive, ethereal.
Her long hair was draped to the right side of her neck, cascading down in soft waves.
As she turned slightly, dawn light fell across her half-visible profile.
It was—
Breathtaking.
A beauty so pure, it stole Wu Xiaomi’s breath away.
Even just the corner of her eye held a charm that seemed to penetrate the soul.
Wu Xiaomi had never seen anything like it.
It was the kind of face that could only exist in dreams like a perfected version of herself sculpted by divine hands.
The woman didn’t look back.
She merely raised one finger, and vines rose from the ground, gently lifting Wu Xiaomi’s chin.
“Sign this.”
She tossed a little red booklet over.
Wu Xiaomi looked down.
“Pfft… A household registration book?!”
How absurdly down-to-earth.
There were only two pages inside.
One listed the head of household but the writing was in a language Wu Xiaomi couldn’t understand.
The second…
Was the spouse column.
Blank.
Where to sign was obvious.