The snow along the western outer edge berm of Camp Hope was packed firm under the steady tread of safe hall patrols.
Handing the basket of steamed buns to the confused royal herald. Then, Lin Xiao shed his eighteen-year-old human avatar with a soft, liquid sigh of condensed moisture. His form melted into a semi-clear, sapphire-blue slime orb roughly forty inches in width, resting comfortably upon the clean white crust of the embankment. Two curved white crescent eyes flickered across his smooth, jelly-like surface, blinking up at the leaden winter clouds with calm amusement.
Beside him, Xiao Hei trotted along the castle wall in his large black wolf form, his glossy black glass fur repelling the falling sleet like oiled silk. Su Ling’er walked on the other side. Her hands were tucked into the warm, fur-lined sleeves of her vermilion winter coat. Her breath drifted upward in small white clouds.
“Sect Master,” Su Ling’er murmured, her sharp fox ears twitching as she listened to the distant clatter of hooves receding toward the western ridge. “General Meng will have reached Crown Prince Zhao Lie’s war chariot by now. Knowing the Crown Prince’s arrogant temperament, those steamed buns won’t pacify his fury. He will view them as a calculated insult to the dignity of the Golden Sun Empire.”
