Reborn as an A-Rank Guide: Trapped By The Crazy Sentinels

Kai’s spiritual domain remained unstable; corroded over far too long a duration, his SSS-rank prowess could barely operate at half capacity.

His full recovery would still take time.

Having crossed two-thirds of their journey, riding the dragon was no longer an option, forcing them to proceed on foot.

Driven by climate shifts and radiological storms, the district had devolved into extreme polar opposites: while certain zones endured year-round, scorching droughts, others suffered under sheer polar freezes due to feeble solar radiation and reflective ice shields.

The two eventually arrived at the border, coming to a standstill before a vast stretch of permafrost and thick glacial ice.

Crossing this expansive frozen wilderness was all that stood between them and their return to 616 Tower.

Bunny walked ahead with Kai trailing behind. Blinding daylight reflected off the endless sheet of ice, straining their eyes under prolonged exposure.

Midway across the icy expanse, the distant roar of engines echoed toward them, growing rapidly louder.

Instantly catching the movement, Kai drew his blade and assumed a combat stance.

A swarm of dark shapes materialized on the ice—heavily modified snowmobiles and pickup trucks—accompanied by feral, bloodcurdling screeches.

”Oh ho-ho-ho-ho...!”

Kai narrowed his eyes. ”Wildmen.”

These lawless tribes were just as savage as the Marauders, known to stoop even to cannibalism.

They encircled the pair in seconds. Kai shielded Bunny behind him—to him, taking down these scavengers posed little real threat.

Unexpectedly, the attackers wielded firearms. Kai executed a backflip to evade an incoming vehicle, slashing clean through the neck of one rider in mid-air.

He then vaulted onto a pickup truck’s roof, kicked the driver out of the cab, and commandeered the vehicle, steering it directly to crush the snowmobiles harassing Bunny.

Operating without his spirit guide was an absolute nuisance—it forced everything into raw, physical brawling.

Bunny’s ammunition had been exhausted while rescuing Kai. Slipping on the slick ice, she sprinted toward the opposite bank, gasping for breath, but her feet were no match for mechanized wheels.

Just as a scavenger lunged to tackle Bunny, Kai arrived in the nick of time, plowing through three of them like bowling pins.

Neither of them noticed a figure standing atop a distant cliff: a tall man with a long white braid wrapped in heavy Arctic gear, locking his frigid gaze onto Kai and Bunny.

He was evidently the leader of this gang.

A sharp eagle cry split the sky—their chief was a wild, unregistered Sentinel.

Overwhelmed by numerical odds, Bunny was quickly pinned down by the mob, while Kai found himself intercepted and held back by the braided Sentinel.

Their goal was sickeningly simple: feast on the flesh of Bunny and Kai.

Amidst the howling, bitter winds on the ice, Kai engaged the Sentinel in a vicious duel, fighting frantically to carve a path back to Bunny.

The scavengers grabbed Bunny by her legs, pinning her face-down onto the frozen ground as one drew a blade, preparing to slaughter her like livestock.

”Gah ho-ho-ho...!”

”Let go of me! Let me go!”

She shrieked in terror, her fair, delicate neck fully exposed to the elements. Just as the blade was poised to plunge down, the butcher’s arms suddenly froze in mid-air.

His clouded eyes rolled violently upward into a stark white glare, as though gripped by an invisible, terrifying force.

Through the shrieking gale, an icy, raspy voice demanded with lethal menace:

”Tired of living?”

The man let out a blood-curdling shriek before blood erupted from every orifice, and he collapsed dead onto the ice.

With crimson-tinged eyes, Bunny looked up to see a pair of familiar combat boots. The uniform above them was worn and battered from the trail, and the eyes staring back at her were heavily bloodshot.

Cyrus had arrived.

Seeing the shift in tide, the remaining scavengers scrambled to flee.

Cyrus grabbed one by his collar, veins bulging along his forearms, and drove a fist into the man’s abdomen with enough force to rupture his internal organs before slamming him violently into the ice sheet.

Blood gushed like a geyser, staining a wide patch of pure white snow.

Shattered bones, broken limbs, snapped necks—agonized screams echoed across the tundra.

Cyrus planted his boot onto the spine of the last survivor, unholstered his sidearm, and discharged multiple rounds directly into his skull until a gruesome mix of crimson and white coated the ground.

Farther across the ice field, the rest of the 616 unit was arriving at full speed.

Bunny’s tracking signal had originally vanished at a different border zone, only transmitting fresh coordinates two hours ago as she headed north. The squad had immediately pulled a desperate U-turn.

Throughout the 64 hours of her disappearance, they had conducted non-stop search-and-rescue operations from south to north across more than half the radiation zone. Enduring low-grade toxic decay, they had eradicated dozens of attacking alien waves along the way.

Armored vehicles tore across the ice, engaging the main body of enemy forces.

This wildmen clan was substantial, comprised of both ordinary scavengers and wild Sentinels, having long occupied this frozen river after brutally exterminating all rival tribes in the region.

Just as Cyrus finished venting his fury and turned to retrieve Bunny, the wild Sentinel’s eagle swooped down from above, snagging her in its talons and launching back into the sky.

Bunny drew her tactical knife and drove it deep into its underbelly; despite the pain, the beast refused to release its grip.

Suddenly, an ethereal, hallucinatory creature resembling a magnificent butterfly intercepted the eagle, plunging its sharp mouthparts in to deliver an instant, lethal dose of venom.

Rigor mortis set in almost immediately, and the eagle plunged downward, casting Bunny into a freefall from the high clouds. She squeezed her eyes shut and screamed.

Yet the anticipated impact never came.

Instead, she landed safely into a cool, firm embrace.

Bunny opened her eyes to meet a pair of striking, glacier-blue pupils—a cold cobalt hue reminiscent of melting polar ice caps.

His skin was a pale, almost unnatural translucent white.

Alion blinked his long eyelashes gently, chivalrously wrapping his heavy military coat around the shivering woman.

A subtle, lingering warmth seeped into her fingertips.

His voice was soft, carrying a deep, resonant magnetism. ”Miss Guide... you are safe now.”