In the center of the village, Mo Xiao stood with his arms crossed, his broad chest rising and falling with the heavy sigh of an Alpha who was rapidly losing his patience. Arrayed before him, looking like a row of extremely dangerous, highly indignant kittens, were the panther triplets.

"Absolutely not," Mo Xiao rumbled, his voice leaving exactly zero room for argument. "You are not coming."

"This is an outrage!" A-Li yelled, throwing his hands in the air. "I am a tactician! I have studied the blade! I bit a badger last week!"

"You bit a badger because it stole your honey-cake, and then you cried because it tasted like dirt," Mo Xiao deadpanned.

"I am stealthy!" Xiao Hei argued, instantly shifting into his panther cub form and attempting to blend into the shadow of a nearby cooking pot. He was entirely visible, mostly because his tail was twitching furiously.

"And I must go to protect my Snowball!" Miao Miao declared dramatically, clasping her hands over her heart. "What if he gets scared? What if he needs moral support? What if he needs another kiss of power?!"

A few feet away, Ruì Xuě, who was currently strapping a tiny, decorative bone-dagger to his thigh, let out a distressed squeak. The nine-year-old Snow Leopard’s face instantly flooded with a violent shade of red. "I do not require a kiss of power! I am a hardened warrior of the North!" he squeaked, aggressively fumbling with the strap.

"You kissed him into a buffering coma, Miao Miao," Mo Xiao sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You three are staying here with Elder Shen. The southern jungles are swarming with rogue factions and a heavily armed Usurper King. It is not a field trip."

"It is totally a field trip!" Zhēn’s voice rang out from the doorway of Bai Yue’s hut.

Han Shān, who had been meticulously packing a spatial ring with enough frozen meats and tactical supplies to survive a decade-long siege, froze.

Zhēn marched down the wooden steps. She was wearing a tiny, heavily insulated traveling cloak, a miniature water-skin slung over her shoulder, and she was dragging a woven sack that looked suspiciously lumpy.

"Zhēn, sweetheart," Han Shān started, his icy Alpha aura instantly melting into a puddle of absolute fatherly weakness. He crouched down to her eye level. "The southern jungles are very hot. And very dangerous. It’s better if you stay here where it’s safe."

Zhēn stopped. She looked at her father. Her lower lip pushed out, trembling with weaponized, perfectly calculated precision. Her massive amethyst eyes immediately filled with giant, shimmering, unshed tears.

"But..." Zhēn sniffled, a sound so heartbreaking it physically hurt to hear. "But I am Tao Zi’s protector. I am the one who found him. If I don’t go, who will make sure he eats his vegetables? Who will tell the bad guys that my Dragon Grandpa will turn them into crispy snacks?"

Han Shān physically recoiled as if he had been shot in the chest. He looked frantically at Bai Yue for support.

Bai Yue, who was tossing a barrage of medicinal herbs and healing salves into a leather satchel, didn’t even look up. "Don’t look at me. You know you can’t resist the lip. Just let her pack the bag."

"I am packing essentials," Zhēn declared, her tears magically vanishing the second she got her way. She aggressively shoved a very large, incredibly heavy river rock into her woven sack. "For throwing at usurpers."

Tao Zi was sitting on the porch steps, watching the chaos with wide, bewildered eyes. The five-year-old jaguar cub was wearing a fresh, clean tunic, his dark curls brushed, and remarkably, the bright pink water-lily from yesterday was still tucked securely behind his ear. He had tried to take it off three times, but every time his hand moved toward it, Zhēn had threatened to start crying again. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

He didn’t know how to handle this. He was an orphan. A target. A loose end. But when he looked at the bustling family, no one was treating him like a burden. They were treating him like he was already one of them.

"Alright, that’s enough dawdling!" Zhāo Yàn clapped his hands together, stepping into the clearing.

The Fox Lord was dressed impeccably, as always, in flowing crimson silks that were entirely inappropriate for jungle warfare, but he looked fantastic. "If we are going to crash a hostile coup and dismantle a tyrannical regime, we are going to do it with style and efficiency."

"Why am I here?" Hóng Yè muttered from his spot leaning against a tree. He had a massive pack on his back and a dark, exhausted circles under his amber eyes. "I am a scholar-in-training. I am supposed to be reading about agricultural rot, not joining a black-ops assassination squad."

"You are here to supervise the tiny terrors while we do the maiming," Mo Xiao stated, clapping a heavy hand on Hóng Yè’s shoulder that nearly drove the teenager into the dirt. "Consider it extra credit."

"I am going to get premature gray hairs," Hóng Yè groaned.

"Look on the bright side, grumpy brother!" Yòu Lín cheered, bounding over in his half-beast form, his orange fox ears twitching with excitement. "We get to ride the fluffy bus!"

"The fluffy what?" Tao Zi whispered, leaning toward Zhēn.

"Just watch," Zhēn giggled.

Zhāo Yàn stepped out of the village perimeter and into the wide expanse of the open plains leading toward the southern tree line. He took a deep breath, his crimson eyes glowing with intense, mystical power. All nine of his massive, illusion-fox tails unfurled behind him, weaving and snapping in the air like living flames.

With a complex hand seal and a sharp exhale, Zhāo Yàn slammed his palms onto the grass.

FWOOSH!

A massive cloud of glittering red smoke erupted from the earth. When it cleared, Tao Zi’s jaw dropped completely open.

Hovering two feet off the ground was a colossal, semi-translucent, nine-tailed spirit-fox construct. It was easily the size of a small house, glowing with a soft, ethereal ruby light. The back of the spirit-beast was hollowed out, lined with plush, illusionary cushions and thick blankets.

"All aboard the Express," Zhāo Yàn smirked, flourishing his hand. "Much faster than walking, and we avoid the venomous mud-leeches in the lower basin."

"Whoa..." Tao Zi breathed.

"Told you," Zhēn beamed, grabbing his hand and dragging the stunned jaguar cub toward the glowing beast.

Within minutes, the strike team was loaded. Bai Yue sat near the front, sandwiched safely between Mo Xiao and Han Shān. Zhāo Yàn took the "driver’s seat" at the head of the construct, controlling the massive spirit-beast with his mental energy.

In the back, Hóng Yè was already setting up a perimeter of strict rules.

"Rule number one," Hóng Yè barked, pointing a finger at the cubs. "Nobody leans over the edge. Rule number two: Glimmer, absolutely no plasma-beams inside the cabin. Rule number three: Yòu Lín, stop trying to eat the illusion-cushions, they are made of magic, not cotton candy."

"Aww," Yòu Lín pouted, spitting out a mouthful of red sparkles.

With a powerful surge of energy, the massive spirit-fox leaped into the air. It didn’t fly, exactly; it bounded, taking massive, mile-long strides that carried them high above the dense, emerald canopy of the jungle below. The wind rushed past them, warm and sweet, a stark contrast to the grim nature of their mission.

Despite the looming threat of the Usurper King and the Blood Moon, the atmosphere in the back of the construct was absurdly peaceful.

Yòu Lín and Ruì Xuě were intensely focused on a game of "I Spy," though Ruì Xuě was taking it far too seriously, aggressively scanning the horizon as if every cloud was a hidden assassin.

Tao Zi sat perfectly still on his cushion, his knees pulled to his chest. He looked over the edge of the glowing construct, watching the blur of the jungle below. He was returning to the place that had birthed his nightmares. His heart hammered in his chest.

Suddenly, a small, warm weight pressed against his side.

Zhēn had fallen asleep. The chaotic, fearless little girl had completely tuckered herself out, her head resting heavily against Tao Zi’s shoulder, her soft white hair ticking his neck. She was snoring lightly, one of her hands loosely gripping the fabric of his sleeve.

Tao Zi froze. He looked at her, then looked frantically at Hóng Yè, as if asking for permission to breathe.

Hóng Yè just smiled softly, a rare, genuine expression that briefly erased the stressed teenager persona. He reached over and gently draped a soft woolen blanket over both of the cubs.

"You’re doing fine, kid," Hóng Yè whispered. "Get some rest. We have a long way to go."

Tao Zi slowly relaxed his rigid posture. He didn’t push Zhēn away. Instead, he carefully shifted so she was more comfortable, his dark eyes softening. For the first time in five years, the crushing weight of survival didn’t feel entirely like his to carry.

They traveled for hours. The sun began to dip toward the western horizon, painting the sky in brilliant strokes of violet and bruised orange. The air grew thicker, more humid, smelling of damp earth, exotic spices, and ancient, rotting wood.

They were crossing the boundary into the deep South.

"We are making excellent time," Zhāo Yàn called back over his shoulder, his tails weaving effortlessly to steer the spirit-beast. "At this pace, we will reach the Sunken Temple by tomorrow noon."

"Keep your guard up," Mo Xiao rumbled, his amber eyes scanning the dense, shadowy canopy below them. "The assassin said the Usurper King has amassed an army. They will have lookouts."

"Let them look," Han Shān said flatly, his hands resting on his knees, a thin layer of frost forming over his knuckles. "I need to hit something."

Suddenly, a strange, high-pitched whistling sound echoed through the air.

It was faint at first, like a bird call, but it rapidly grew louder, shriller, cutting through the wind.

Fweeeeeeeeeeeeee—

"What is that?" Bai Yue asked, leaning forward, her brow furrowing.

Zhāo Yàn’s relaxed posture instantly vanished. He threw his hands up, his crimson eyes flaring with desperate power as he tried to violently veer the massive spirit-fox to the left.

"INCOMING!" Zhāo Yàn roared.