Meow~ (Foolish lizard, this king once slapped a dragon dead with one paw. You dare prance before me?) The black cat dropped onto his hind legs, left paw on hip, right paw pointing like a spear at the Flame Lizard.

Insulted by a night-colored cat, the Flame Lizard felt embers under his scales flare like a brazier.

Stupid black cat, do you know who I am? My veins run with dragon blood, the noble flame-dragon line, so where do you get the guts? His voice rolled like a furnace venting heat.

It wasn’t boasting; flame-dragon blood pulsed in him like molten rivers. One parent was a Flame Dragon, so the human kingdom hesitated like deer before a tiger. Send an army, and even a win would be nine corpses for one survivor, a trade of ashes. The great mages weighed lineage like swords on a scale and dared not lift a hand.

Meow! (Hah? Are you brain-dead? Dragon blood, my whiskers. I said I slapped dragons flat; you still show off before me?) His tail flicked like a whip in dust.

Cat and lizard locked eyes, moon to ember, each stance sharpening like blades. Ouyang, the black cat, was simply bored, craving a spar of tongues; otherwise he’d have smeared the lizard like paste. The Flame Lizard would’ve struck any other day, yet the dragon blood in him tolled a warning bell, like thunder behind mountains.

Onlookers hovered at the cave mouth like reeds in a crosswind, unsure to advance or retreat.

Miss Yulithilis, please fall back. We’ll cover you. Captain Rigi’s voice was steady, like a worn shield. They’d come brimming with confidence to cull the beast that stirred the forest tides, yet one glance told seasoned eyes—this foe was a cliff, not a hill.

While that dimwit lizard and the strange cat are busy trading insults, we should slip out like shadows at dusk.

If it were only their party, Rigi wouldn’t sweat like rain. But a noble young lady walked with them, and if her skin took a scratch, the story would fly like crows to the duke. Then the whole party would hang like lanterns, families included. He chose for Yulithilis’s safety, and more, for his people’s lives like seeds in his palm.

Captain, that beast’s head seems… off. We don’t need to retreat; we can outwit it and win by brains. The youth with the greatsword leaned forward like a wolf pup straining at a leash.

Rigi knew him—about twenty, fire in his breath like new wine. Young men spot a beauty and itch to prove themselves. With Yulithilis there, he dreamed of soloing the beast and basking in her awe, then walking away with the sea-blue moon. Rigi, near forty and weathered like old bark, read the boy’s heart as easily as tracks in dust.

But—

Sol, back. Everyone cover Miss Yulithilis and retreat. His order cracked like bamboo.

Rigi never despised young blood, but this was life and death like a blade at the throat. If the young lady fell, they all would fall, and Rigi wouldn’t indulge a whim while the storm gathered.

But Captain, how do we know unless we try? You taught us never to quit. Sol argued, yet his eyes snuck toward the girl like fish toward light. Her blue hair, stirred by the cave draft, rippled like waves surprised by wind. She wore no dress, just the same gear as the party, forest-ready like bark and leather, knowing this wasn’t a holiday.

That alone showed she wasn’t a porcelain doll, all whim and gloss. A girl who gallivants into woods in a long skirt is a moth to flame, usually a fool.

Yulithilis didn’t retreat at once, not out of stubbornness, but because the mole had told her the cat’s origin loomed large like a mountain behind mist.

Cat and Flame Lizard bickered hot as iron, then the cat suddenly pointed behind him with a claw like a spear tip. Because of the language gap, Yulithilis asked the mole to translate.

Master… the black cat… he says… everyone here is trash. The mole Claudia spoke, voice shaking like a leaf.

Trash…

The youth buckled first; he’d wanted to impress before and got shut down. Now even a cat threw shade like stones? Unbearable.

He charged like a spark leaping from tinder.

Just then, Ouyang scooped a pebble from the ground and, without a word, snapped it at the Flame Lizard like a sling through air. The lizard blinked, stunned; in his eyes, the cat’s depths matched his own, so a master should keep a master’s grace. The earlier spit of words had been tactical smoke, a stall in this chess of fangs.

He never expected the cat to throw rocks like a child chasing ducks.

Fine, the Flame Lizard hefted a boulder and hurled it toward the cat like a falling star. Compete in throwing stones? Your pebbles against my hide are drizzle on slate.

Thud! The boulder slammed into the hot-blooded youth who’d rushed in, pinning him like a beetle under a boot.

The Flame Lizard wasn’t surprised; to him, the cat was an equal, and he didn’t expect a mere stone to land true. But what was that human doing, cutting in like a moth into a forge?

Ah!!! The scream tore out like fabric ripped by nails.

Neither Ouyang nor the Flame Lizard imagined a frail human would rush between titans, courage bright as a spark in a storm.

Meow! (Kid, not bad. My Demon King’s army just lacked your kind of fearless shock trooper.) Ouyang’s praise purred like warm coals. The Flame Lizard snorted, not to be outdone. Human boy, this prince admires your courage. His words rang like a gong.

Claudia translated every syllable, bead by bead, like an abacus clicking.

Instantly, the pinned youth spat blood like a crushed plum and fainted cold.

Cat and lizard ignored him, leaving the party to haul him away like cargo.

Meow~ (Little lizard, you suit this Demon King’s taste. Pledge yourself and I’ll make you Commander of the Blazing Legion.) Ouyang spoke with mystery like mist over a ravine. Truth was, with power not even touching divinity, the Flame Lizard becoming a legion commander under Ouyang was dream-stuff. Yet Ouyang wasn’t lying: if the lizard joined him, he’d be commander of the Blazing Legion—of one. A one-being legion was still a legion by name.

Hearing that vile cat, the Flame Lizard almost laughed, sparks dancing like fireflies.

Shorty, since you’re the first one in centuries I find pleasing to the eye, swear to this prince. I’ll appoint you keeper of my treasure vault. His tail curled like a flame script.

Meow~ (From your soul’s grain, you’re only a few dozen years… where’d you get “centuries”?) The cat’s tone was lazy as a cat under sun.

Nonsense. The point isn’t this prince’s age, is it? His snort smoked like a chimney.

Their quarrel rose like a rising wind, and the air grew taut like a bowstring. One wrong word, and claws would sing.

Suddenly, a pair of jade-white hands scooped up the black cat like lifting black silk.

Meow~ His sound softened like dew.

Ayang… I found you! A little girl in an emerald gown appeared without a ripple, sudden as a spring sprouting in stone. At least, to Rigi and the others, she simply was—no footfall at the cave mouth, no shadow crossing, just a presence blooming behind the cat.

Her green hair fell to her waist like willow, swaying gently; her long dress swam like water. No wind touched the cave mouth where Rigi stood, yet inside, the girl’s hair and skirt moved as if waves obeyed a hidden moon.

Saya’s arrival caught Ouyang off guard like rain on coals, yet he didn’t resist, letting her cradle him like a pearl.

As Ouyang settled in her arms, his small crystal orb dropped and kissed stone like a bead of ice. Saya stooped to pick it up like one lifting a star, but Yulithilis reached first, meaning to return it like courtesy offered.

The dull orb lit with strange light in her hand, gleam rising like dawn from fog.

Then the crystal vanished—gone like a fish under ripples to everyone else’s eyes, but Ouyang knew it had melted into the girl’s palm like snow into spring water.

Damn it, give me back my orb! That’s vital to researching parallel worlds! His anger snapped like a bamboo rod.

Ouyang sprang onto Yulithilis, startling her so she let go, sending Claudia tumbling like a pebble down a slope. Ouyang clung to Yulithilis’s chest, four claws hooked into fabric like needles into silk.

Soft… springy… His mind stalled like a wheel in mud. And why was the girl’s face reddening, blooming like a cherry?

He couldn’t figure it out, and now wasn’t the time; getting the orb back mattered like breath.

Ouyang… Saya’s voice went cold as frost as she tugged him back, but his claws were already dug into Yulithilis’s clothes, and Saya pulled hard, so—

Rrrip. The young lady’s garment tore like paper in rain.

Realizing his blunder, Ouyang tucked himself into Saya’s arms and didn’t dare show his face, a cat in a storm barrel. Mortifying, too mortifying. He, the First Demon King, had done… cough, cough. Clearly, erasing witnesses was the royal road, thunder sweeping autumn leaves. If today’s scene spread like fire through hay, one tale would birth ten, ten would birth a hundred, and his face would drop like a mask into mud.