“I won’t make things hard for you,” the Bear King said, voice calm as a stone riverbed. “My youngsters poked their noses into your human quarrels despite my warning, like cubs riling a hornet’s nest.”

He gave a rational chuckle, light as wind through pines. “Saves me from you coming in packs to make trouble later. Everyone knows my clan can’t bleed coin or blood like you can.”

Hiri brightened like dawn breaking. “So you’ll let us go, Bear King?”

“No. Those two stay and spar with me,” the Bear King said, scanning Eli and Liqianyu with eyes like embers. “I’ll tan the hides of the young and teach them some sense. The rest of you can go.”

All eyes drifted to the pair, like reeds bowing in one wind.

“That’s… not proper, Bear King,” Hiri blurted, anxious as a kettle about to whistle.

“Cut the chatter. Choose,” the Bear King said, hands on hips like a cliff-set pine. “Relax. I won’t kill them. Why so tense?”

Hiri started to argue, but Eli stepped forward and barred him with an arm, a wry tide in his eyes. He shrugged like a leaf on water. “Alright. Looks like we can’t dodge the rain. Hope the old Bear King doesn’t hold a grudge.”

Edlyn held Angela’s hand. The two watched Eli, worry fluttering like sparrows under an eave.

Eli grinned, easy as sunlight on a pond. “Relax. Who am I? A Hero reborn. If I die, where’s heaven’s justice?”

Edlyn curled her lip, a little storm cloud crossing her face. Boast all you like—if the Hero never died, where would you come from? Still, her shoulders eased a fraction, like snow slipping off a bough.

Angela clapped, bright as a silver bell. “Then bless Uncle Eli with peace, or Big Sis will be a widow.”

“You little imp!” Edlyn snapped, palm landing on Angela’s head with a soft thump, like fruit dropping in grass. Angela crouched to the ground and drew circles, sulking like a snail under rain.

Eli chuckled, then glanced at Liqianyu down the path, eyes glinting like steel under frost. “Let’s go, crazy woman. We’ll pick the old Bear King’s brain and learn to brawl.”

Liqianyu unbuckled the weights on her feet, waist, and wrists. Iron rang like cold raindrops. She stretched, joints cracking like bamboo in wind, and kept that wicked smirk. “You got it.”

A white light orb bloomed in Eli’s palm like a moonseed. He bowed. “Bear King, please step farther away.”

…

“I won’t bully you,” the Bear King said, shrugging off his clothes. His upper body was bare and ruddy, like a bonfire in dusk. “I’ll give you ten moves.”

“Generous,” Eli said, shaking his head with a dry laugh, like dust off a travel cloak.

“You going or not?” Liqianyu shot him a glance, sharp as a hawk’s wing.

“Ladies first,” Eli said, eyes rolling like marbles.

“OK!” Liqianyu stepped out, then flashed forward like lightning over a ridge. She drove a heavy fist at his face, scarlet Battle Aura tearing the air with a hiss, a hidden dragon’s roar coiling inside it and rushing the Bear King.

He slid a step back, broad chest meeting the strike like iron cliffs against surf. A dull clang rang out, iron on iron. “Not bad. Power and speed both at the peak for your age,” he rumbled, voice like rolling thunder. “Little girl, consider marrying into my bearfolk and birthing a sturdy brood?”

“No thanks.” Liqianyu snapped a knee to break contact, skidding back a long step, cradling her trembling right fist. She hopped in pain, a cat on hot tiles. “Heavens, what kind of rock are you made of?”

Eli chuckled and stamped through seven magic arrays, each flaring like blue lotuses. He shot forward. “Switch!”

“You take it!” Liqianyu gritted out, retreating like tide from a reef.

Eli’s white orb streaked at the Bear King like a falling star. The Bear King’s eyes widened. “Oh? Magic? But weak as mist. You’re wasting turns.” He flicked it aside with a lazy slap, a leaf batting a moth.

Eli conjured more orbs. The Bear King popped them away one by one, pebbles skipping a still pond.

From the first step, there was no winning. Eli smiled bitterly, moonlight thin in his eyes. He only wanted to know if, in his normal state, every card played, he could scratch a titan past the limit.

The arrays wove into a blue light-sword, bright as glacier ice. He thrust. The Bear King tilted his head, amused as a cat. “Aren’t you a mage? Why’re you in my face?”

Eli stomped. Seven arrays burst like exploding lilies. The lightblade scythed for the Bear King’s head. The Bear King ate several roaring blasts, smoke curling like stormclouds, then took the strike head-on.

To everyone’s surprise, the blade nicked his cheek. A thread of blood beaded like dew on stone.

The Bear King looked at Eli, surprise flickering like a fish under ripples. “You’ve got some tricks, kid.”

Eli narrowed his eyes and slid back a step, a shadow under a wall.

Above, Liqianyu hovered, lungs filling like a bellows. She kicked down, voice a whipcrack. “Again! Crimson Coiling Dragon Ascent!”

Eli sprang away, retreating like a startled hare. The Bear King looked up at the churning power and laughed, bright as noon. “Last move, then. Good—come!”

Boom!

The earth shuddered like a drumskin. This time, the Bear King caught the force in both palms, calm as a mountain in storm. He stood unruffled, not a single hair out of place.

Liqianyu collapsed limp to the ground, eyes empty as a spent lantern, casting Eli a look of deadpan despair.

The Bear King patted nonexistent dust from his chest, smile easy as spring wind. “Ten moves are up. I won’t hit a girl who’s lost the will to fight. So, you, brace yourself.”

Eli’s mouth twisted, bitterness like rainwater. His gaze slid to Liqianyu, who lay there stifling a laugh like a fox under a leaf. He gritted out, each word a pebble. “You. Son. Of. A—”

“Bear Fist!” The punch was plain as bread, no Battle Aura, no spellfire. Yet the giant drove in with speed like a hawk stooping.

Eli’s eyes flared. Chains lashed from both hands, snapping like lightning. They hooked the Bear King, and with opposite force he flung himself behind him. The mighty fist hit empty air. The wind from it flattened a swath of forest like wheat before a scythe.

Eli swallowed, throat dry as sand. “Feels like my handsome face dies today.”

These chains were strange. He felt them choke the flow of qi in the Bear King, like ice in a river. The Bear King frowned, a mountain crease. No wonder his juniors couldn’t beat this man.

After a one-sided tangle, Eli lay sprawled and exhausted, breath scraping like a saw. The path behind was smashed hills and gouged earth, broken links of chain fading like frost at sunrise.

“Senior, stop playing. Any more and I’ll die,” Eli said, flipping onto his back, chest heaving like bellows.

“Hahaha, fine. Let me land a few punches, then you all go,” the Bear King boomed, laughter rolling like thunder over plains.

“Do it. I won’t dodge.” Eli shut his eyes, calm as a monk under rain.

… waiting for death …

When I woke, I was in a wagon, swaying like a cradle on ruts. Don’t blame me. The enemy was a mountain. I used every trick. Some quack wrapped me like a leaf-wrapped rice dumpling.

Edlyn sat beside me, smug as a cat with cream, gnawing a roast chicken leg. “Oh dear, Hero. Pity you can only have liquids.”

I glared at the impish girl, but even my eyes ached, hot as coals.

“Comminuted fractures and still alive—truly a Hero,” Edlyn said, floating free as thistle fluff, her nimble legs swinging like willow branches.

Oh, right. While I was out cold, the girl won wind’s favor. With her absurd ocean of mana, she practically lives in the sky now, a kite with no string.

Looking at my sorry state, Edlyn laughed again, wicked as a fox in moonlight. Yet, if I squinted, I caught the faintest tear-track at the corner of her eye, a silver line of rain on porcelain.