Deep within the Ruins of Guixu, the heart of the steel giant gradually cooled.
After that punch, the "Xingtian" mech's last vestige of energy was exhausted. Inside the cockpit, the crystal runes, once as brilliant as a galaxy, extinguished one by one, like the curtain falling after a grand fireworks display, leaving only a few pale embers flickering in the darkness.
"Seventeen?" Shen Qingqiu tried to get off Seventeen's lap, but found the arm around his waist tightly bound, as if welded shut.
"Don't move." Seventeen's voice had changed.
No longer the usual cold, mechanical tone, but low and hoarse, as if his throat contained scalding sand. There was a strange, dangerous, oppressive feeling in that voice that Shen Qingqiu found unfamiliar.
The last emergency light in the cockpit flickered.
By that faint red light, Shen Qingqiu could see Seventeen's appearance.
His head was bowed, his black hair soaked with cold sweat, clinging messily to his pale face. In his left eye, not concealed by the mask, the once clear, deep blue data stream was now violently boiling, gradually tinged with a dark, muted gold, like dried blood.
[Warning: External data forcibly written...]
[Source: Xingtian (Will of the God of War)]
[Compatibility: 99%...Integrating...]
Pain.
Extreme pain was tearing at his nerves.
But this was not merely a physical reconstruction, but an erosion of his will.
"Xingtian" was not an inanimate object; it was the most ferocious war machine of the previous era, its core code retaining the brutal logic of "never compromise, slaughter the world." At this moment, this ancient and domineering will was surging wildly into Seventeen's body through the connection port.
It had its eye on Seventeen.
It wanted to transform this perfect vessel into a new God of War.
"Get out..." Seventeen gritted his teeth, veins bulging on his forehead. He was fighting against the will that was trying to take over his body.
But that power was too strong.
Especially his right arm.
His newly reforged "Golden Vulcan" right arm was undergoing an astonishing transformation.
The once liquid, flowing crimson metal, after absorbing the residual essence of the Xingtian mecha, began to harden and crystallize rapidly.
Crackling sounds accompanied the grating crackling of bone growth as layers of dark red, ancient-inscribed heavy armor covered his right arm. His fingertips became sharper, and jagged barbs sprouted from his joints.
It was no longer just an arm.
It was a **"divine bone"**.
It was heavy, domineering, and exuded a suffocating aura of destruction.
"Seventeen! Look at me!" Shen Qingqiu sensed something was wrong. She cupped Seventeen's face in her hands, trying to wake him.
But Seventeen didn't respond.
He slowly raised his head, his single eye, now completely dark gold, staring intently at her.
His gaze lacked its usual caution and gentleness.
Instead, there was a naked, possessive greed, like a hungry wolf eyeing meat, a dragon eyeing treasure.
That was Xing Tian's will: "Everything I see is spoils of war. Once it's in my grasp, I'll never let go."
"Qingqiu..."
He called her name, his tone strange, tinged with a morbid obsession.
"You are mine."
Before the words were finished, he exerted force.
The world spun.
Shen Qingqiu was slammed against the cold control panel of the cockpit.
His body was frighteningly hot, his mutated, dark red right arm pressed firmly against the metal plate beside her ear, his hard fingertips easily piercing the alloy surface, confining her firmly in this small space.
"Seventeen, wake up! This is a logic virus!"
Shen Qingqiu didn't struggle. Her golden eyes activated, trying to find flaws in his logic.
But this time, she failed.
Because this wasn't a virus, it was instinct.
It was an extreme distortion and amplification of his original "guardian program" by the ancient war god.
"Awake?" Seventeen's lips curled into a wicked smile—an expression he could never have made before.
He lowered his head, his nose brushing against her neck, taking a deep breath, as if marking his territory.
"I'm perfectly awake."
"The outside world is too dirty, too dangerous."
"I'm going to...hide you."
His fingers (his intact left hand) traced Shen Qingqiu's cheek, the movement still gentle, yet carrying an undeniable desire for control.
"Lock you in my core."
"Or...turn you into a specimen, place you in my storage space."
"That way, no one can take you away again."
This was madness.
It was the tyrannical will of the war god at work. It couldn't understand the equality of "love," it only knew "possession" and "collection."
Shen Qingqiu looked at the unfamiliar man before her, exuding a dangerous aura.
If it were any other woman, she would probably be crying by now. But she was Shen Qingqiu.
Not only was she not afraid, but instead…she smiled.
She reached out, her fingertips gently hooking Seventeen's chin, which appeared exceptionally alluring due to the flush on it.
"Trying to lock me up?"
Shen Qingqiu's voice was languid, tinged with a hint of provocation. "Trying to turn me into a specimen?"
"Seventeen, you've really grown bold."
She suddenly straightened up, advancing instead of retreating, and bit down hard on his lips, which were inches away.
Blood was drawn.
Hiss— Seventeen winced in pain, the dark golden storm in his eyes momentarily halting.
"Listen, big guy."
Shen Qingqiu licked the blood from her lips, her gaze even wilder and more arrogant than his.
"I am your administrator."
"Only I can collect you, not you to collect me."
She wrapped her arms around his neck, her golden eyes meeting his dark golden demonic eye, unyielding.
"Listen up, you old thing inside you (Xing Tian's will)!"
"This body, this man, I, your great-aunt, pieced together with my own hands."
"Trying to usurp my place? You dare ask?"
[Logic Reconstruction: Forced Overwrite!]
[Command: I am your master, and also your lover. Not a trophy.]" Shen Qingqiu's mental power, like a sharp knife, pierced Seventeen's chaotic sea of logic.
She was wresting control from the will of that ancient war god.
This was a silent battle.
Seventeen's body trembled violently, a beast-like growl escaping his throat.
On one side was the ancient, domineering "possessiveness."
On the other was the warm and equal "protectiveness" that Shen Qingqiu had bestowed upon him.
The two data streams collided wildly within him.
"Ugh…ah…" Seventeen clutched his hair in pain, his dark red right arm uncontrollably trying to tighten, trying to crush everything before him, but it was held down firmly by his stubborn will.
"Don't…be afraid…"
Even in his utter chaos, he managed to squeeze out two words.
"Don't…hurt her…"
Even corrupted by the will of the God of War, even with his logic shattered.
His first priority remained—protecting Shen Qingqiu.
Seeing his pained expression, Shen Qingqiu's heart softened.
She abandoned her previous forcefulness, becoming gentle as water.
"Seventeen, look at me."
She cupped his face, showering him with kisses on his brow, the corners of his eyes, and the bridge of his nose.
"I'm here, I won't leave."
"You don't need to lock me up, because I willingly stayed by his side."
"That arm isn't for imprisoning me."
Shen Qingqiu pulled the grotesque, still-heat-radiating dark red right arm and gently placed it on her waist.
"It's for holding me."
"Like this."
She nestled into his arms, pressing herself against his burning chest with complete trust.
In that instant.
The crazed dark gold in Seventeen's eyes finally began to recede.
The will of that ancient war god, faced with the incalculable logic of "love," ultimately chose to submit and lie dormant.
It still existed, becoming the indelible, domineering undertone in Seventeen's personality.
But it was no longer a mad beast; it had become the claw of a guardian dragon.
[System stable.]
[Right arm module evolution: God's Grip.]
[Current status: Extreme protection of master.] The red light in Seventeen's eyes gradually subsided, returning to its original deep, dark blue, only this blue was deeper than before, like a sea concealing a storm.
He gasped for breath, as if he had just survived a life-or-death battle.
Looking at the unharmed Shen Qingqiu in his arms, then at his own now hideous right arm, a flicker of panic crossed his eyes.
"Qingqiu...the hand...has become ugly."
He was falling back into his old habit of self-consciousness. This hand was a mix of black and red, covered in barbs, looking like the claw of a demon.
Shen Qingqiu, however, caressed the cold, hard armor with obvious affection.
"Where's it ugly?"
Her fingertips traced the ancient inscriptions, her eyes sparkling.
"It's called violent aesthetics."
"Seventeen, you're now the man who inherited the God of War's legacy."
She looked up, winking playfully.
"That 'wall slam' just now, although it was a bit fierce… it was actually quite exciting." Seventeen froze.
Then, a suspicious blush quickly spread from his pale face to his ears.
He awkwardly tried to pull his hand away, but Shen Qingqiu held him tightly.
"Alright, I won't tease you anymore."
Shen Qingqiu looked out of the cockpit.
The sea was still a deep blue, but the oppressive sense of crisis had vanished.
"We should go out too."
"With this new arm, let's give those waiting outside to laugh at us a big surprise."
…The exit of the Guixu Secret Realm was located above the sea.
At this moment, the sea was turbulent. Disciples and elders from various sects hovered in mid-air, anxiously awaiting news.
"It's been three days, and still no movement."
"I think Shen Qingqiu and that puppet are probably dead down there."
"What a pity about those two spots for the Heavenly Craft Pavilion."
The Pavilion Master of the Heavenly Craft Pavilion (that Nascent Soul old monster) stroked his beard, a sinister glint in his eyes. It was best they were dead; that puppet held too many secrets, making him uneasy.
Just as everyone was discussing this,
BOOM—!!!
The calm sea suddenly exploded.
From a towering column of water, two figures burst forth.
The man, dressed in black, his long hair whipping wildly, wore a silver mask, and his right arm was clad in a menacing, dark red heavy armor, radiating a chilling ancient pressure.
The woman, dressed in fiery red, was held firmly in his arms, unharmed.
Seventeen hovered in mid-air.
The right eye, inheriting the will of "Xingtian," coldly swept over the surrounding high-ranking cultivators.
At that moment, everyone—including the Nascent Soul stage sect leader—felt a shiver that ran through their very souls.
It was as if an ancient, ferocious beast crawling out of the abyss had seized their throats.
Seventeen lowered his head and glanced at Shen Qingqiu in his arms.
Only after confirming her safety did he raise his head again, revealing an arrogant, "delusional" sneer to the countless gods and Buddhas in the sky.
"Mine." He didn't utter a sound, but everyone understood his lips.
He was asserting his dominion.
To the woman in his arms, and to the world he was about to trample beneath his feet.
Seize divine bones, forge a demonic body.
From this day forward, no rules in this world could restrain him.
Except for the pool of autumn water in her eyes.