The pitch-black tentacle fiend writhed like a storm-tossed kelp forest, flaunting itself as oily plumes of black energy steamed off its body. That power pulsed from the Jade Rabbit; an undying rabbit was a wellspring, yet the Stove God had ripped its strength away, with part sealed in a human, leaving the Jade Rabbit looking pitiful.
What the hell is with that rabbit? How does it have that much juice inside? White Cat’s fur puffed up like a dandelion caught in wind; it had just mauled the fiend to pieces, only to watch it swallow the rabbit and pop back to full like a game mob leveling into an elite.
The fiend grew stronger, but White Cat’s eyes stayed cold as ice on a river; the slight sat like a thorn in its paw. Its slit pupils pinned Ouyang, an iron question in them; the Jade Rabbit was with Ouyang’s crew, and it’d just handed the enemy a giant life pill. Under that stare, Ouyang tugged Collin and darted behind a boulder like a crouching ox.
Marvelous little White Cat, that mutant tentacle freak’s all yours; I’ll hold a moment of silence for you back here.
Silence?
Ouyang’s shameless tone made White Cat want to sink its teeth into him, but a tentacle whipped in with a hiss like a striking viper. The fiend wasn’t bright, but it held grudges like old rust; it remembered every severed limb, and White Cat was first on its kill list.
You idiot, you think Cat Lord’s easy prey? Back then one sneeze from me could wipe a world clean; and a tentacle freak is—meow, for crying out loud! White Cat coiled to pounce, when an emerald flare cleaved the firmament like dawn breaking a cliff of cloud.
A pair of vast emerald wings swept past like an Azure Bird gliding above pines; Caro and the others squinted, but Ouyang and White Cat saw it clear. A slender girl floated between those wings, but what froze them was the bracelet on her left hand, jade-carved fine as dew on bamboo.
Saya’s Song, one of the Twelve Divine Demon Artifacts! White Cat’s tail shot straight like a spear; it hated tangling with weird relics, because odds were bad. With Ouyang nearby, the leash on its caution loosened. Human kid, the freak is yours; Cat Lord’s going to greet one of the Twelve.
It sprang and ran up the air, each kick finding a step like stones rising from a river, climbing higher and higher.
Huh?
Augustine stood dumbfounded, his bravado falling like ash; he’d vowed to beat the Twelve Divine Demon Artifacts, yet he couldn’t even down a tentacle mob. He swallowed the truth like bitter tea; his combat power was five, and that was generous.
Cat Lord, don’t go, I can’t beat—!
Too late. White Cat clashed in the sky with the wielder of Saya’s Song, steel ringing like rain on leaves. Below, Bai flicked a glance at Ouyang, saw him tucked behind the boulder, and her worry shed like a robe; she folded her mage’s cloak neat as stacked paper and handed it to Ouyang.
I’ll go defeat that thing. Bai’s dragon wings unfurled like storm sails and she drove toward the fiend. Caro and Augustine watched, realized they were dead weight like oars in dry sand, and scurried to shelter by Ouyang.
Dreams are plump, but reality’s all bone; Augustine had believed that trailing White Cat would forge him into steel to cleave the Twelve and heal his homeland. Now a single tentacle freak had him running like a rabbit under hawk-shadow.
Frustrated? Ouyang leaned on the stone, arms folded, voice cool as winter rain. Feel useless? Without that cat you can’t do a thing, just hide and watch your team trade blood with monsters?
Augustine slammed a fist into the rock; skin scraped open, and red seeped out like ink in water.
Yeah, I’m trash; I can’t do anything. I keep dreaming I’ll beat monsters, chasing fantasies like smoke, a loser drunk on make-believe. He owned the words like a bitter draught, no excuses offered.
Caro sank against the stone as if it ate heat; the truth weighed like lead—they were too weak. And they wanted to beat the Twelve Divine Demon Artifacts?
Captain! Augustine’s thought flashed like lightning finding a tree; he dropped to his knees before Ouyang. Captain, you said you had knowledge; please, make me stronger. No matter how hard, I’ll endure like a mule under a mountain.
He remembered Ouyang calling himself their captain, a man with files and maps, a part-time mentor in the maze of life. Lost in fog, he reached for the lighthouse he’d ignored.
Ouyang stretched and let out a breath like smoke in cold air.
About time you remembered why I’m here; well, it’s not too late. A captain’s job is to make you strong. His palm thudded Augustine’s shoulder like a drumbeat. Kid, believe in yourself; you’ve got White Elf blood.
For some reason, seeing Ouyang’s bright grin was like sunrise thawing frost in Augustine’s chest.
Relax. I’ll teach you how to use your White Elf power, and make you a hero who stands tall, a name a crowd chants like a tide. Augustine didn’t see the little abacus clacking in Ouyang’s mind; he was already choked beyond words.
Teacher, I’ll work hard; no pain will stop me.
No, I’m not your teacher— Ouyang meant to use him, but that one word slid a ring on his finger; titles change fates like seals on paper.
No, Ouyang-bro, if you teach me, you’re my teacher. Augustine was stubborn as a stone in a stream; he pictured beating the Twelve Divine Demon Artifacts and Alice returning whole, and gratitude rooted deep as pine. Teacher, to coax the man to pour knowledge like tea.
Ouyang refused and refused, but Augustine kept calling him teacher; the headache throbbed like a drum behind his eyes.
While Ouyang wrestled with the word like a net, a tentacle smashed the boulder behind them, stone popping like chestnuts in fire. Seeing it lash for them, Ouyang shoved Caro, Augustine, and Collin aside in one rough sweep.
Teacher—no—!
Augustine saw Ouyang throw them clear as the tentacle lanced in like a spear of night. In a heartbeat he painted a martyr’s tale in his head, the teacher dying for his students; he never guessed Ouyang hadn’t spared the thing a ripple of fear.
As the spike was about to skewer Ouyang and Augustine’s hope guttered, a white blur dove in like snow cutting wind. Bai folded her dragon wings forward, twin bulwarks locking like shields.
Rip— The tentacle punched through her wings, cruel as iron through silk, but two layers blunted the force like sand eating a wave; it stuck, buried and shaking.
Bai glanced back at Ouyang; seeing him untouched, she smiled like sunlight through rain. Ouyang stared at the scene, a tremor running through him like a struck string; even he didn’t know what feeling bit him. In Bai’s eyes, he looked like fear.
She yanked the tentacle free; blood ran down her wings like red vines, yet her face stayed calm as a still pond. Don’t be scared— Bai patted Ouyang’s head, soothing him like a child with a lullaby.
Then she surged for the fiend, anger coiling around her like a storm front, her killing intent sharp as winter blades.
Teacher, don’t be afraid. You’ve got us— Augustine, too, mistook him for a noncombatant shaking before a beast, and his comfort fell like a blanket over fire.
Afraid? Of what? Where do you see fear of that overgrown squid? Ouyang’s face flickered like a cloud crossing the moon; being read as afraid irked like grit in the eye, and Bai’s head-pat stung pride like a slap.
He quietly flipped the fiend the bird, a wordless verdict; sentence passed, execution pending.
Rabbit, playtime’s over; finish that freak, or I’ll finish you. Ouyang’s voice rang in the Jade Rabbit’s head, muffled by gut and bile like thunder through walls. Feeling his mood like frost on fur, the Jade Rabbit stopped messing around in the fiend’s belly.
As Bai dueled the fiend, it suddenly collapsed, tentacles clutching its gut like a man stabbed deep. Its limbs swept wild like scythes, and the forest opened into a bald patch of earth.
Bai struck in the opening, her dragon claws carving a deep seam across its head like a plow through wet soil; blood geysered up like a crimson spring. At the same time, a rabbit popped out of the wound, a black-furred blur; the blood barely showed on it, and it landed like a drenched puffball from a rain barrel.
