The Blood-Soaked Embrace
No sound of his skull being cracked open came.
Though he could feel that finger was abnormally stiff, as if fighting with all its might against some bloodthirsty urge.
But that didn't mean the danger had passed, because Red Moon hadn't withdrawn her hand.
Not only that, soon two fingers were stroking his forehead, almost replicating the gesture he'd made when closing his own hand.
Yet Fu Qian, who had just experienced for the first time how fragile a skull could be, like tofu, still didn't reject this "caress." He didn't transform to toughen himself up, either, lest he startle this hard-won "mother."
Not even when the moon behind him slowly unfurled.
Though he didn't look back, the scene in Fu Qian's perception was crystal clear at that moment—
Without a sound, Red Moon had drawn as close as she could.
The shadows on the surface of the enormous sphere, which he'd earlier described as grooves formed by a twisted body, were truly swelling into clawed tendrils.
Once again.
They were even lighter and more buoyant than when she'd squeezed An Jing Shizhi into a ball, so much so that the body attached behind them seemed able to stretch out a little.
For a brief moment, Red Moon actually lost her original outline, revealing an inner aspect as indistinct as the face of the figure seated in the chair, yet imbued with boundless mystery.
Unfortunately, there was little time to observe. In the next instant, those long limbs, like claws and wisps, quietly stretched out one by one before him, then slowly drew together, as if giving him a tender embrace.
Though he could feel how gently she was trying to hold him, the parts she covered still felt as if magma were flowing over them.
"Heh...