Chapter Thirty-Eight: Taking Flight Like a Winged Bird

Chapter Thirty-Eight: "Flight with Wings"

When the pavilion collapsed, the cultists of the blood clan wailed and screamed, many of them crushed to death or wounded; their cries were truly pitiful. They, who were so accustomed to wielding life and death over humans, now found the taste of helplessness unbearable when the tables were turned. These people were all traitors to humanity—death was too light a punishment for them.

At the entrance to the corridor, burly, overweight guards tried to block the way. Xia Zheng charged forward, summoning his psychic power to hurl rubble and debris from the ground like bullets at the guards.

With a series of dull thuds, these "bullets" tore straight through the guards, sending them to the ground with screams, their bodies riddled like sieves. Though they appeared formidable, their combat prowess was feeble—far inferior even to the three "Rabbit Masters" from before. They probably weren't even true blood clan cultists.

Between the flames, flying stones, and the ever-increasing pile of slain blood clan followers, the scene had transformed into a true slaughterhouse.

"By doing this, you're essentially provoking an all-out war between humanity and the blood clan, you damned fool!" Mirabelle screamed, her voice hysterical as she took in the carnage.

Shen Hua slapped her across the face and laughed. "Save your scare tactics. You're only an A-rank blood clan, hardly qualified to ignite a war. Killing you would be no different from slaughtering a chicken."

"Who... who are you? You don't seem like an ordinary psychic," Mirabelle stammered, eyeing Shen Hua with a growing sense of dread.

Shen Hua replied mysteriously, "Some things are not to be revealed." She was just about to dart into the corridor when she abruptly paused.

Suddenly, several figures blocked their way—none other than the blood clan followers who had been with Mirabelle earlier, and clearly not lacking in strength.

One of them, dressed in the garb of a bishop, bared his fangs—two canine teeth that had become sharp and menacing. He eyed Shen Hua warily, clearly deterred by the hostage on her back. "Release her, and you can leave safely. Otherwise—"

Before he could finish, Shen Hua sneered and used her psychic power to lift him into the air, leaving him flailing helplessly. The other blood clan cultists began to shout in alarm.

Xia Zheng, having finished venting his rage, caught up from behind and joined Shen Hua. He saw more than a dozen high-ranking blood clan cultists surrounding her, yet they dared not attack for fear of harming Mirabelle. The sight amused him.

"My, my, so many of you against my master alone? How about a one-on-one if you have any guts?" With that, he unleashed a wave of psychic power, conjuring a cloud of icy mist among the cultists. They immediately slowed, some even stiffening.

The blood clan were vulnerable to cold, much like reptiles, and if chilled enough, they would enter a state of hibernation or feigned death.

Under Xia Zheng's freezing mist, they scattered, not daring to approach Shen Hua any longer.

Mirabelle, feeling the chill, looked at Xia Zheng with newfound respect. "What kind of power is that? I've never seen anything like it."

"Let me demonstrate." Xia Zheng slapped her again, laughing. He harbored no goodwill toward these blood clan, especially after witnessing the sacrificial ritual.

With the combined might of Shen Hua and Xia Zheng—and the added threat of Mirabelle as a hostage—the blood clan cultists dared not risk a full assault, only harassing them piecemeal.

Suddenly, with a crash, the ground split open and several arms shot out, grasping at Xia Zheng and Shen Hua’s ankles.

"Courting death!" Xia Zheng stomped the ground, unleashing psychic power that birthed ropes out of thin air to bind the grasping hands. Then, conjuring a psychic blade, he slashed down.

Amidst a chorus of screams, the arms were severed, blood gushing forth, and the blood clan followers lurking underground were grievously wounded.

At this moment, Xia Zheng’s unique psychic abilities displayed their astonishing might. So long as his imagination was vivid and his mental energy ample, he was nearly unstoppable. Though his cultivation wasn’t yet high, the nature of his attacks—born of pure imagination—rendered the blood clan followers powerless. They broke through the opposition, emerging onto the surface, where chaos erupted throughout the bar.

"Master, if we keep trying to break through like this, things will get messy. They have the numbers," Xia Zheng observed as more blood clan cultists and their minions charged at them. His attacks could only hold them off for so long before he would exhaust his psychic strength.

Shen Hua nodded. "You carry her. I’ll think of something." With that, she tossed the bound Mirabelle to Xia Zheng, who slung her over his back—deliberately positioning her upside down.

"You brute! Can’t you be more gentlemanly? How can you carry me like this?" Mirabelle’s dress fell over her head, baring her long, pale legs as she kicked wildly in the air.

Shen Hua glanced over, frowning. "Behave yourself. Kill her if you must, but don’t humiliate her."

"Fine," Xia Zheng grumbled, adjusting Mirabelle’s position. But her ample chest pressed against him, threatening to overwhelm his composure.

Mirabelle bit Xia Zheng’s ear, though she was too weak to muster much force and only managed to nibble, tickling him.

"Vixen, stop biting my ear." Xia Zheng slapped her backside, prompting her to bite harder, though it made little difference.

Shen Hua shook her head, thinking her apprentice still lacked maturity. But on second thought, hadn’t she been the same? Like master, like disciple.

With a surge of overwhelming psychic power, Shen Hua blasted dozens of blood clan followers away. Her combat prowess was staggering; these cultists were utterly unworthy opponents in her eyes—not even Mirabelle, an A-rank, could resist.

Even after tossing them aside, Shen Hua’s psychic power didn’t dissipate. Instead, it rapidly condensed—not as solid as Xia Zheng’s materializations, but taking the shape of semi-transparent wings, long and ethereal.

With a mighty beat, Shen Hua began to rise, then swooped down, seized Xia Zheng by the shoulder, and soared into the air.

"Master, you’re incredible!" Xia Zheng exclaimed in awe.

Below, the blood clan cultists, their servants, and hired thugs stared in shock as Shen Hua carried Xia Zheng away on shimmering wings. They were powerless to stop her. Perhaps true high-ranking blood clan could fly, but these could not—they were only bullies to ordinary psychics.

Psychics of her caliber were unique among the gifted—ordinary methods were useless against them.

Soon, Shen Hua and Xia Zheng’s fleeing figures dwindled to a black dot and vanished.

A furious roar erupted from the remaining high-level blood clan cultists, but their howls were nothing more than the impotent barking of beaten dogs.

"What now? Lord Meszaros has been captured by human psychics. How will we answer to the Archbishop?" asked a man with bluish skin and two horns protruding from his forehead.

Another, with blue skin and now-retracted fangs, replied, "I’ll make a call. We can’t stay here. Evacuate immediately."

"Yes!" The others nodded and began a hasty retreat. Soon, Midnight Mary was in the throes of evacuation, and the news spread. The secret haven was shaken—for the first time, humans had dared to storm Midnight Mary and forced the blood clan to abandon their lair.

Meanwhile, having left the enclave, Shen Hua and Xia Zheng landed on the rooftop of an apartment building. Shen Hua looked exhausted.

"Master, are you alright?" Xia Zheng asked with concern, seeing her pallor.

Shen Hua shook her head. "Just drained my psychic energy. That technique is something I only use to escape with my life." Carrying both Xia Zheng and Mirabelle had consumed even more of her reserves.

Xia Zheng pulled out a lollipop and handed it to his teacher. "You’ve worked hard, Master. Have some sugar."

"You think I’m a child?" Shen Hua grumbled, but popped the lollipop into her mouth anyway, knowing the sugar would help.

Mirabelle watched the two, unable to make out the relationship between them—part master and apprentice, yet something of lovers as well.

"Hey, you two. What are you planning to do with me? If you’re smart, you’ll let me go. Otherwise, the blood clan will never let you go," Mirabelle threatened again.

Xia Zheng slapped her. "Behave for a hostage—stop threatening your captors."

He turned to consult with Shen Hua, only to jump in surprise—his master had reverted to her elementary schoolgirl appearance, leaving Mirabelle gaping as well.

"Oh, I’m too drained to keep up my other form," Shen Hua explained, sucking on her lollipop.

"Alright... it’s just a bit surprising," Xia Zheng admitted. His master’s two forms never ceased to amaze him.

Mirabelle was dumbfounded. "You... you can revert your age? My god, you have the same power as our Queen!"

Xia Zheng asked her about it, and learned that the blood clan queen could also switch between adult and child forms.

"It’s probably for the same reasons. So, Ah Zheng, what do you plan to do next?" Shen Hua nodded at their genuine blood clan captive.

Xia Zheng had already uploaded the photos and videos he’d recorded to the cloud, sending some as evidence to the Professional Psychics’ League as part of his mission. He’d even backed up a copy to a flash drive. "I’ll contact the police and give them the evidence so they can raid the underground bar."

"Do you really think that will work?" Shen Hua asked pointedly.

Xia Zheng glanced at Mirabelle. "Whether it works or not, I have to try. Midnight Mary must be shut down, for the sake of preventing more tragedies like Mo Xiaolian’s."

"And her?" Shen Hua nodded at Mirabelle.

By now, Mirabelle had mostly regained her speech. With Shen Hua’s psychic energy depleted and her form reverted, the force binding Mirabelle had weakened, though not enough for her to escape.

"Should we just kill her?" Xia Zheng suggested. Mirabelle tensed—these two were nothing like ordinary humans, and they weren’t the type to hesitate.

Shen Hua considered, then shook her head. "Let the authorities handle her. I doubt they’d let her go. Let the Federation imprison her."

"Alright." Xia Zheng began dialing Wu Nianfang, whom he had met previously and exchanged contact information with.