Above the trench, Zhao continued his impossible battle.
His silver feathers flashed in the darkness, finding target after target, but the Shadow Stalkers kept pouring through the increasingly numerous cuts in the tent's fabric.
"Deeper," Ren urged as the hole continued expanding beneath them.
Sweat beaded on the diggers' foreheads as they worked tirelessly.
Ren observed students sliding into the trench while Zhao's feathers grew increasingly scarce.
"Faster!" Ren urged Taro and the others who continued digging.
The hole was almost deep and wide enough, forty students had slipped inside, but the space for those remaining wasn't ready yet.
"Min, help them smooth the earth there," he directed his friend. "Taro, to the right, the earth is softer there."
