The sky above the northern crags of the Grand Desolate Forest shook from the bone-shaking boom of the summoning bright light. Lingering scarlet dragon-smoke drifted in the autumn wind, tainting the pine air with spiritual sulfur.
Down near the mossy clearing where the boundary giant pillars stood half-buried among hardwood roots, the five scouting students of the Crimson Flame Sect remained clustered around the lightning-blasted pine stump. Gu Long nervously straightened his rumpled robes. He wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his sleeve. Meanwhile, his juniors cast skittish glances toward the motionless white mist.
A shrill, piercing cry echoed through the clouds.
The northern fog parted before a sudden gale of scorching wind. Dropping through the clouds with heavy, rhythmic beats of plumage was a four-winged Cloud-Plume Crane. Its clean white feathers gleamed like glazed fine china, though the beast strained noticeably beneath the weight of a huge carriage strapped to its back. Crafted from crimson sandalwood, inlaid with gold-trimmed bronze fittings. Then he hung with curtains of heavy scarlet silk, the flying palanquin looked more like a royal bedchamber than a wilderness hunting carriage.
Flanking the carriage were two burly elders on twin flying discs. Their maroon layered-scale armor was etched with fiery runes, and heavy dao-sabers rested at their waists. Protectors Wu and Zhao, twin Core Formation guards of the Crimson Flame Sect, radiated dry heat that curled nearby ferns before their boots touched the ground.
With a heavy flutter of wings, the great crane touched down upon an outcropping of gray limestone. He lowered its breast to let the carriage settle.
The silk curtains parted with a metal rustle.
Stepping out onto the crane’s velvet-draped mounting step was Young Master Yan Zixuan. Barely twenty years of age, he possessed pale, delicate features that spoke of a life spent consuming expensive marrow-cleansing elixirs rather than enduring rigorous training under mountain waterfalls. He wore high-collared robes of vermilion damask stitched with golden flames. A folding fan of polished mutton-fat jade rested casually against his palms.
Following directly behind him, stepping onto the stone ledge with haughty deliberation, was a man whose presence cast an immediate chill over the boiling hot heat.
He was tall and slender, draped in flowing argent-white robes bordered by sharp-angled sword-runes. Stitched upon his chest was the nine-blade sunburst insignia of the Heavenly Sword Sect, vanguard of the Eastern Orthodox Alliance. Senior Envoy Lu Yunzhi, a Foundation Establishment late-stage fighter, carried no sword sheath. Instead, an elegant flying sword of frosted steel hovered steadily behind his right shoulder. It hummed with razor-sharp sword-qi.
“Senior Brother Gu!” the youngest scout gasped, hastily dropping to his knees.
Gu Long threw himself to the damp grass. He pressed his forehead against the loam until his nose brushed moss. “Student Gu Long greets Young Master Yan! Greets Senior Envoy Lu! Greets the two venerable Protectors!”
Yan Zixuan flicked open his jade fan, wafting away the pine-scented breeze with acute distaste. “Gu Long, you useless wretch. I gave you four hours to secure three prime Moon-Wolf pelts and five high-tier serpent cores for my birthday mantle. Instead, you fire a Grade-2 distress flare and drag my carriage into this damp bog. Do you know how much spiritual fuel my crane burned to reach this ridge?”
Gu Long began to sweat heavily, his cheek pressed firmly against the dirt. “Young Master, have mercy! It’s not that your students were negligent! Look before you—this mountain gorge is covered by an unnatural sight maze! No matter which path we took, our flying swords were turned back to this very stump! Aimed compasses spin wildly! There must be an ancient cave-abode or a demon beast warlord hidden within this basin!”
Envoy Lu Yunzhi stepped forward. His cold gray eyes swept across the dense white fog bank that coiled quietly between the two crescent crags fifty paces ahead. A faint, condescending smirk curled his lips.
“An ancient cave-abode?” Envoy Lu asked, his voice crisp and smooth like ice sliding across marble. “Junior Brother Yan, your scouts have spent too much time chasing wild boars in country woods. What we see here is nothing more than a raw terrestrial bending barrier. The mist merely redirects surrounding leylines to confuse the balance of unranked beasts.”
Yan Zixuan turned toward the Heavenly Sword envoy with an eager, fawning nod. “Brother Lu possesses amazing vision. Compared to the grand mountain-clearing formations of your Heavenly Sword Sect, such backwater wilderness tricks must look like child’s play.”
“Naturally,” Envoy Lu replied, resting one hand behind his back while his chin tilted toward the sky. “The Eastern Orthodox Alliance maintains strict turf over all leylines and spiritual deposits between the Azure River and the Southern Ridges. Any rogue beast clan or unlisted hermit squatting in this forest is, by alliance law, occupying sovereign territory without tribute. If there are rare beasts denning within, their pelts and cores belong to the alliance as a customary resource harvest. If there’s a rogue master hiding from sect taxes, he shall kneel and offer compensation for trespassing upon our outer hunting preserves.”
Protector Wu stepped forward, his gravelly voice like grinding stones. “Young Master, shall I unleash my Scorching Earth Sabre to burn this fog into steam?”
“Wait,” Yan Zixuan said, waving his jade fan with renewed arrogance. “Brother Lu is here as my honored guest for the pre-banquet hunt. Let’s walk in through the main breach. I wish to see what manner of mangy beast has the boldness to build a gatekeeper’s fog in my clan’s backyard.”
Just as the party adjusted their weapons, the quiet woods shuddered.
A sound like rolling thunder drifted through the white vapor. It wasn’t the crack of heavenly lightning, but the rhythmic, earth-tremoring impact of massive paws moving at tremendous speed.
From the heart of the mist-shrouded gorge, two figures emerged into the afternoon sunlight.
Leading the way was a massive black wolf. Standing eight feet tall at the shoulder, its sleek coat was blacker than the darkest midnight deep pit, lit up by glowing silver star-pattern runes that pulsed along its muscular flanks. Arcs of pale-silver wind crackled softly around its black glass claws, flattening the surrounding grass with quiet power. The wolf’s deep ruby eyes held neither the mindless hunger of a wild hunting beast nor the wild fear of a hunted beast. They held the calm, lethal intelligence of a sovereign monarch.
Yet what caused Envoy Lu’s eyebrows to twitch in sheer confusion was not the huge wolf.
It was the thing resting comfortably between the wolf’s ears.
Perched squarely on the hunting beast’s crown was a semi-clear, sapphire-blue dome of jelly. It was roughly sixteen inches in width, perfectly rounded. Then it possessed a glassy, shimmering surface that caught the sunlight like polished ocean ice. Two expressive, curved white eyes blinked lazily from its front mantle. In one fluid, jelly-like slime arm, the blue blob held a small bamboo toothpick, while another semi-clear limb held a folded square of clean linen cloth.
Lin Xiao gave a gentle, elastic wobble as Xiao Hei came to an easy stop twenty paces from the human party.
Man, look at that carriage, Lin Xiao thought to himself, studying the crimson sandalwood palanquin with genuine pity for the bird. Solid timber, bronze fixtures, silk drapes, and three hundred pounds of gold leaf. That poor four-winged crane must have lower-back issues. And who wears high-collared velvet robes into a pine forest in early autumn? Fighters really need to discover practical hiking gear.
Lin Xiao patted Xiao Hei between the ears, signaling him to keep his lightning contained. He had just finished a delightful lunch of sweet braised lotus root. The soothing osmanthus fragrance still stayed pleasantly in his internal core. The last thing he wanted was a messy shouting match that would ruin his afternoon digestion.
Before Lin Xiao could formulate a friendly greeting, a familiar chime rang in his mind:
A young master from the Crimson Flame Sect and an envoy from the Heavenly Sword Sect, Lin Xiao mused internally. A classic training combination. One provides the loud entitled shouting, and the other provides the self-righteous legal justification. I wonder if they’ll ask for directions or right away demand my lunch.
Yan Zixuan’s jaw hung slightly slack as he stared at the wolf and the blob. For three long seconds, total silence hung over the boundary clearing. It was broken only by the whistling mountain wind.
The young master looked from Xiao Hei’s terrifying, rune-etched frame up to the little blue jelly ball, then back down to Gu Long, who was still kneeling in the mud.
“Gu Long,” Yan Zixuan whispered. His voice shook with an equal mixture of confusion and rising anger. “Is this... Is this the ancient terror that forced you to detonate my father’s Grade-2 summoning bright light?”
“Y-Young Master!” Gu Long stammered, pointing a shaking finger at Lin Xiao. “That wolf! Look at that wolf! It’s a mutated Tier-3 Shadow Hound! And that... That blue creature on its head... It wasn’t there when we first surveyed the boundary!”
Envoy Lu Yunzhi let out a soft, mocking chuckle, the silver sword hovering behind his shoulder tilting slightly.
“Fascinating,” Envoy Lu murmured, narrowing his eyes as he assessed Xiao Hei. “A Shadow Hound that has managed to absorb lunar essence and wake up rudimentary wind-path runes. In the royal capital, a beast of such glossy coat would fetch at least eight hundred high-grade spirit stones as a war-mount. But what’s that aquatic slime doing perched upon its brow? Has the wolf suffered from a brain parasite?”
Xiao Hei’s ruby eyes darkened. A low, underground growl rumbled in the depths of the wolf king’s chest, causing the limestone beneath his claws to spiderweb with hairline cracks.
“Master,” Xiao Hei whispered through their telepathic link, his thoughts shaking with suppressed fury. “The two-legged worms dare refer to you as a parasite. Grant me permission to sever their limbs and feed their entrails to the ravens.”
Easy, Xiao Hei, Lin Xiao replied soothingly. He extended a cool slime arm to rub the wolf’s velvety ear. We don’t eat guests, and we certainly don’t start brawls before hearing what people have to say. Maybe they’re just lost travelers. Let’s see what their business is first.
Lin Xiao cleared his throat. Or rather, shook his fluid core to produce a clear, ringing, and remarkably pleasant human voice that echoed across the clearing.
“Good afternoon, travelers,” Lin Xiao said cheerfully, bobbing once in a friendly bow. “You’ve reached the boundary of our valley. We don’t see many flying carriages out here in the deep woods. Did you lose your way on the northern highway, or were you looking for a place to water your crane?”
Yan Zixuan’s eyes widened to the size of tea saucers. He snapped his fan shut and took two steps forward, his boots crunching against the gravel.
“It talks!” Yan Zixuan exclaimed, a sudden, arrogant grin spreading across his youthful face. “Brother Lu, did you hear that? The little blue puddle actually speaks fluent human tongue! It has no throat, no lungs, yet it makes sounds!”
Envoy Lu Yunzhi remained aloof. His hands still was tucked behind his back as he looked down his nose at Lin Xiao.
“A low-tier aquatic spirit that has swallowed a discarded vocalization pill or absorbed a drop of spiritual dew,” Envoy Lu said dismissively. “Common curiosities in deep marshes, though rarely surviving long without being eaten by waterfowl. Blue creature, you stand upon land claimed by the Eastern Orthodox Alliance. Under the decrees of the Heavenly Sword Sect and our affiliated factions, all unlisted spirits inhabiting these ridges must submit to alliance registry, surrender fifty percent of their harvested spiritual herbs as seasonal tax, and present their strongest beasts for service as sect mounts.”
Yan Zixuan chuckled loudly, puffing out his chest under his vermilion robes.
“Well said, Brother Lu!” Yan Zixuan declared, pointing the tip of his jade fan straight at Lin Xiao. “Listen well, little blue bug! You and your overgrown dog have five breaths to bow down and accept our decree! Otherwise, my Protectors will flay that wolf’s hide for my birthday boots and turn your body into water for my tea kettle!”
Lin Xiao rested his pseudopods on his sides, his curved white eyes blinking once in quiet amusement.
Boots and kettle water? Lin Xiao thought, a gentle sigh rippling through his azure form. People really never change, do they?