Deviant: No Longer Human

Wang Xiao grinned slightly, but his next question was sharp. "So, when are you announcing me as the real Guardian of Europe?" His voice carried a casual tone, but the implication was clear—Wang Xiao wasn't going to relinquish his claim on European territory.

Renji Hayashi nodded, though the strain on his face didn't go unnoticed.

Officially announcing the Eight Prince as a guardian was a mere formality, but, "There is someone who wants to contest you," Renji said, his voice calm but deliberate. "She has defeated every challenger in the line and is now the top contender for the European Guardian. Unless you defeat her, the legion won't accept your claim."

Wang Xiao paused, his eyebrows lifting in surprise. "Hm?" he murmured. He knew of the legion's rules but had expected no one to challenge him—especially after his reputation for brutality had spread far and wide.

'Someone dares to stand against me?'

The Eight Prince was infamous for not just defeating his enemies, but utterly annihilating their families, erasing their roots from history.

Anyone daring to challenge him should have known the cost wasn't just losing—it was destruction.

And yet, it was a girl?

Was it Amaya?

His mind briefly considered the possibilities before he spoke, "Who is this contender? Call her here. I won't waste more time."

Renji nodded, his expression unchanging. "She came with us. I'll have her brought in."

"Hm?" Wang Xiao's eyes widened slightly. 'She's already here?' That surprised him.

'Let's see her then...' he thought, leaning back with a wicked grin spreading across his face.

A small part of him was amused.

It wasn't often that someone had the guts to challenge him face-to-face.

____

Tap… Tap… Tap…

Steps echoed through the cold, dim hallway, a rhythm so precise it felt like a countdown to something deadly.

A feminine shiloutte strode forward like a shadow, her figure wrapped in tight black armor that hugged her curves with a deliberate, almost painful precision.

The way the armor clung to her body seemed designed to conceal, but instead, it only emphasized every inch of her sexy form.

The prominent swell of her breasts strained against the tight fabric, pushing forward in defiance, impossible to ignore, daring anyone to look. No matter how much that dark material tried to hide, those full, luscious curves were on display, teasing anyone foolish enough to let their eyes wander.

Her waist, slender and delicate, gave way to round hips, the kind that made a man's mouth go dry just imagining how they would move under him. Every step she took made those hips sway just enough to pull the eye, her firm buttocks tightly bound by the armor, leaving no room for imagination yet driving desire all the same.

She was sexy in the most dangerous way, the kind of woman a man would dream about conquering, only to realize far too late that she was a fucking predator—and he was the prey.

But it wasn't just her body that commanded attention. There was something else—an aura so cold and deadly that it suffocated anyone who got too close.

Bloodlust radiated from her like a second skin, mixing with the frganance of her tight, armored form. Her blood-red hair spilled over her shoulders, framing her face like a dark halo, while her crimson eyes glowed beneath it, sharp and indifferent.

Beautiful? Fuck yes. But not in a way that invited warmth or tenderness. Her beauty was lethal, the kind of beauty that would have a man's heart racing, his dick hardening at the thought of breaking her, of taming that ice-cold indifferent gaze.

But the truth hit harder than any fantasy—she'd cut him down before he could ever get close. She wasn't someone to be conquered; she was a woman who'd kill herself before letting any man claim her.

Her figure was sexy as hell—firm breasts, narrow waist, round hips, every inch designed to tempt and torment. But even more than that, it was clear she wasn't a woman meant for love.

She was built for battle.

A killing machine, merciless and emotionless.

She moved like death, her curves drawing attention, but her aura warning—anyone who tried to act on that temptation would end up bleeding at her feet.

Her beauty wasn't just a gift from the gods—it was a weapon she wielded proudly.

And every man who laid eyes on her felt it deep in their gut, a mix of lust and fear.

"Who… who the hell is she?" one of the guards stammered, his throat dry as he swallowed hard, trying to tear his gaze away from her.

His eyes had lingered far too long on the tight press of her breasts against the armor, imagining just how soft and perfect they'd feel underneath.

But fuck, she terrified him. "Just… don't look, man…" he muttered to himself, heart pounding in his chest.

She'll fucking kill you for even thinking about it.

Another guard, standing nearby, was no better off. His eyes, too, had trailed down to her chest, imagining the softness beneath the cold, unyielding metal. His mind wandered for just a second, picturing her under him, naked, that perfect body finally exposed.

Hiss!

But the chill that ran through his spine snapped him out of it—she'd tear him apart if she caught him staring.

"You fucking idiot," he hissed at his comrade, his voice shaky. "She'd slit your throat before you could even beg. She's killed more than a hundred soldiers just today…"

Gasp!

The others around them couldn't help but take sharp breaths, their hearts racing in fear. A hundred? That wasn't just a number—these were elite soldiers, mages, warriors. To cut down a hundred of them in just a few hours?

That wasn't just skill—that was fucking terrifying.

They all knew—whoever this woman was, she was no ordinary warrior. She was death in the form of a deadly, sexy woman, the kind who'd turn heads, then cut them off. Not one of them dared to meet her eyes again.

They knew better than to fuck around with someone like her.

"Imbeciles..." Ji Xuehong muttered under her breath as she walked calmly down the hall, her every step deliberate and sensual.

Her legs moved like serpents, graceful and sinuous, with a sway in her hips that exuded pure, feminine charm. Each step was a work of art, sexy in the way her waist swayed with perfect control, more seductive and mesmerizing than any international model could ever hope to be.

Normally, she would have slaughtered every man who dared to dream of her with their pathetic strength.

Did they think they stood a chance?

These men were nothing more than vermin beneath her feet.

Their desire, their longing gazes, only made her want to break them even more.

But today, her focus was elsewhere. Her sexy, serpentine steps carried her toward the chamber in the north wing of the building, where Wang Xiao and the others were gathered.

As she approached, the doors to the room were already open, swinging lazily on their hinges. "So careless," she thought, her red eyes narrowing in disapproval. "Anyone could just barge in and kill everyone inside..."

She imagined the simplicity of it—walking in, her blade cutting down every single one of them, their blood splattering across the walls.

Whoosh!

But before she could step forward, an aura—so intense, so overwhelming—swept over her like a violent gust of wind.

Bam!

It froze her in place.

"..."

Ji Xuehong's breath caught in her throat, her body going rigid as she recognized what she was feeling.

It wasn't just bloodlust. This was something far beyond the raw hunger for killing that she radiated with every step she took.

This aura—which mortals couldn't sense—was the living embodiment of death itself.

It wasn't wild or uncontrolled; it was calm, almost serene, but with the weight of infinite graves behind it.

Perfection.

A killer like her, she was always sharp, always lethal, her every movement a potential death sentence. But this aura… it belonged to someone who had transcended that need.

They no longer had to look deadly.

They no longer had to prove they were a warrior.

They had become something more.