"Wife, we're finally done with the ape-man life," I said to Meilina behind me. A month in the Beast Forest, and I'm not thrilled. I thought it'd skyrocket my strength, but nada. Seems fighting weaklings does zilch for growth.
"What's ape-man life? What's an ape-man?" Meilina asked, puzzled. Duh, this ain't Earth. "Uh, ape-men are what humans evolved from, like how beastmen evolved. Our ancestors, their ancestors—all started as beasts," I explained.
"Never heard that. I thought we were created by the Creator God," Meilina said, confused. Ugh, how to explain? If all life's "made" by the Creator God, where'd he come from? And his kind? Our research suggests he's just a more evolved lifeform, with deeper life knowledge. Maybe this planet's creatures are his gene experiments. But explaining that to Meilina? I'd lose the whole day. It's like a kid tackling a PhD thesis.
"Maybe, maybe not. If we're Creator God's work, where'd he come from?" I tossed back, letting her chew on it.
"Sounds kinda right, but I can't wrap my head around it," Meilina said, brow furrowed. If you solved that puzzle instantly, I'd be out of a job as a genius.
"Don't overthink it now—save it for later," I chuckled. Meilina shot me a playful glare. "You calling me dumb, huh?" But inwardly: Think you can outsmart me? Then she froze. What's wrong with me? He's my target, yet I'm so close to him. Am I really playing his wife? No, I'm a demon princess. I can't love him. I'm overthinking—now's not the time to strike. She consoled herself. "What's up? Don't stress, you look cute all dazed," I teased, eyeing her as she paused.
"Oh, you dare mock me? I'll teach you a lesson!" Meilina lunged, feigning ferocity. After a month together, she knew me well, unaware she'd fallen for me. Love's tricky—she made excuses to deny it, not realizing it only drew her closer. Someone once said, "Love starts with wanting to know someone." Her sacrifices to get near me, enduring my hugs, had rooted feelings deep in her heart.
"Haha, caught you—where you running?" I grinned, grabbing her delicate hand and kissing it lightly. Her face bloomed red. "You're gorgeous," I praised. "Filthy wolf, always taking advantage," she said, shyly pulling away. That look got my blood pumping. A month with a beauty, living like a monk—look but don't touch. Torture for a hot-blooded guy. Training's over; I thought I'd "punish" her, but she always slips away at the clutch, leaving me stuck. Staring at her fleeing figure, I vowed to win. Heh, beauty, here I come.
"Tian, I'm all yours—you wouldn't hurt me for a quick thrill, right?" Her pitiful face crushed me. "Of course not, I'd only cherish you."
"Then why try that here? It's dirty—I could get a skin rash!" Geez, just say no. Must she tease, her fingers trailing my chest, ignoring my struggle?
"Fine, I won't touch you unless you agree," I said, faking sorrow. Heh, when you can't resist, don't come crying. "Tian, you mad? I'll give in now," Meilina said sweetly, inwardly smug: That pickup guide I read worked! This wolf's eating out of my hand, clueless.
"Where're your maids? Weren't they meeting us at the exit?" I asked. "Maybe they didn't know it's today—could be tomorrow. Let's wait," she said.
"Could be. We walked all day—let's rest. They might be at the inn ahead," I mused.
"Nana, c'mere, got a question," I called. My honed senses caught intense killing intent closing in. To protect Meilina, I played it cool.
"What's up?" she asked, confused. I'd never been so formal, and we'd hashed out everything this month. But her gut trusted me, and she approached.
"Someone's here to kill us," I whispered in her ear. "What?" She froze, shocked, but quickly guessed who'd target me.
"Finally," I muttered as six figures leaped out. They thought I called Meilina for a romp, assuming I'd let my guard down—prime time for assassins. Too bad, it's my trap.
Bang! I clashed palms with the lead black-clad assassin. Their teamwork screamed experience—years of practice. Against most experts, it'd work. Back when I first arrived, they might've got me. Now? I'm a mountain they can't climb. If I'm the sky, they're dirt. Their swift sword strikes looked slow to me, poorly timed—a tragedy for assassins facing someone who sees through their moves. Outcome? Obvious.
The recoiling assassin stared in disbelief as his hand exploded with a crack. The other five froze, stunned. They killed often but hadn't seen such a bizarre method. Fear grips when you face the unknown. Their instincts screamed: today's "prey" was the hunter, and they were the quarry. To survive, they'd have to fight.
The six exchanged glances, charging again. As they neared, two broke off toward Meilina. Maybe I cared too much—her skills should've dodged easily—but I judged by my standards. I flashed to her side, scooping her tiny waist and pulling her back, evading the swords.
"I was gonna let you live, but now you die. No one touches my woman—not even a god," I said coldly. "I hate cowards using women as shields, especially my beloved. You're done." Meilina trembled in my arms.
She knew I meant to kill, and her six subordinates stood no chance. While I wasn't looking, she shot them a coded glance only they'd understand.
The six suddenly swelled like balloons, chaotic energy swirling leaves in the air. "Heh, demons hate me that much? Again and again with the assassinations. I haven't even come for you," I said, recognizing their demon combat transformation, a last resort that'd leave them bedridden for two months.
"Die!" They unleashed a combined palm strike. Impressive, but wrong target. Their "lethal" blow only kicked up dust before me, not ruffling my clothes.
My protective true qi blocked all dust. The six shot backward to flee. "Leaving so soon? That's rude," I said. By the time I finished, they were dead under my palm, and I was back, dusting my hands. Bang! They collapsed.
Meilina paled, watching. She couldn't stop me—speaking would've blown her cover. She'd rated me highly, but instantly killing six elite assassins? Even her father, the demon king, couldn't do it so effortlessly.
"Nana, sorry you got scared," I said, cradling her tenderly. Her pale face stirred pity, urging me to protect her.
"I'm not scared—with you, I fear nothing," she said, melting into my arms, hands circling my waist. Lost in my gaze, she felt drunk, wanting to stay there forever. But remembering I'm her enemy snapped her back. What's wrong? I keep zoning out. He's my foe. Am I the jinx Father says, useless? I'll kill him to prove I'm not. He killed my men—he's the real monster. His heroics were fake; he knew I could dodge but rushed over. Yet his worry looked real. Two voices clashed in her mind, and she shook her head in pain.
Noticing her distress, I asked, "What's wrong, Nana? I'm here—no one'll harm a hair on you. I, Makino Feitian, swear it."
"I know you're good to me. With you, I'm happy, thinking of nothing else," she said, gently stroking my hair. A lover's touch. (Per the classics: "Lover's touch, my ass. Wait till she screws you over." Feitian: "Bro, play nice. Don't ruin the vibe just 'cause you're jealous. You're acting like a shrew." Classics: "Kid, feeling cocky after the new year? A few jabs, and you're rebelling!")
Meilina, exhausted, fell asleep in my arms. I laid her gently on the grass, intending to bury the bodies. She suddenly gripped my hand, crying, "Feitian, don't leave me. I hope you understand." Her sleeping face showed fear—despite her skills, she likely hadn't seen bloody assassinations. Today's shock gave her nightmares. I kissed her cheek, loosened her grip, and went to the six corpses.
Black blood stained their lips—poison, taken before the hit. No matter how tech advances, assassins endure, keeping traditions like suicide by poison upon capture, a millennium-old rule.
Their deaths confirmed the poison was oral, likely hidden in their mouths. I'd hoped for clues, but it's clear: demons want me dead. Simple. My gut says these killers are tied to the Wudu attempt. But how'd they know I'd exit the forest today? Why not strike inside, instead of after my training? No assassin's dumb enough to let a target get stronger first. These six weren't amateurs—their skills screamed elite. Assassins aim for one-shot kills, avoiding alarms. They likely banked on my relaxed state post-forest. Smart plan. If they'd attacked inside, I'd have sensed them. Escaping in the forest, they'd have no chance, plus it's risky for them.
Who tipped them off about my training? Only my wives and close aides knew. They wouldn't leak—no motive, especially with demons on the ropes. A power grab? Unlikely. My legion commanders are like sons or brothers, loyal and known to me. Even if they rebelled, who'd take over? The empire has talent, but no one commands like me. Native vs. outsider conflict? Many on the Magic-Martial Continent know we're off-worlders, but our spies report no dissent. We saved this planet, bringing prosperity and hope. Rebellion now, during war, makes no sense. Still, no one's perfect—some must resent me.
Could Meilina's maids have leaked? They had the chance. I rarely hit the battlefield, but as demons, they might know me. Why, then, did the assassins target Meilina too? She's demonkind. A traitor? Doesn't add up—her bond with her maids is tight, and she's no common killer sent to seduce me. It's a gut feeling—her aura and grace are innate, not faked.
Reader's Corner: Yo, readers, talk about a close call! Feitian's dodging assassins like a boss, but Meilina's got him wrapped around her finger—or is she falling for real? Who do you think sold him out? Her maids, or someone closer? Drop a comment with your theories, and let's unravel this plot together!