Part 1: Outside the Dungeon
Under a darkening sky, the area outside the collapsed dungeon was a hive of activity. Tents flapped in the wind, their frayed edges bearing the marks of hurried construction. The wounded lay on makeshift beds within these shelters, their groans of pain mingling with the low hum of conversation among survivors and rescuers.
Ancient physicians worked tirelessly, their tools gleaming in the flickering lamplight.
They moved between patients with practiced efficiency, applying herbal poultices and stitching wounds with fine, almost invisible threads. Their robes were marked with symbols of healing, identifying them as practitioners of the sacred healing arts.
Marquis Xué Shā stood in the center of the chaos, his arms crossed as his gaze swept over the scene. His imposing stature and crimson robes, embroidered with the emblem of Snow Water City, set him apart from the crowd. Beside him stood his trusted aide, who spoke in hushed tones.
"Sixteen survivors are still unaccounted for," the aide reported. "We've found twenty-three injured and recovered nineteen bodies so far."
Xué Shā's expression darkened, his jaw tightening as he processed the grim news. "Continue the search," he commanded. "No stone unturned. These people fought for us—they deserve to be brought back, dead or alive."
Behind him, clusters of adventurers and students milled about, their faces etched with exhaustion and despair.
The Marquis turned to his aide again. "Any sign of Hóng Hǎiyáng?"
"None, Marquis. It's possible he's still inside."
Xué Shā's eyes narrowed as he stared at the dungeon's collapsed entrance. "He'll come back," he said, though his tone betrayed a flicker of doubt.
Part 2: The Survivors Emerge
The earth quaked violently as the dungeon began to crumble, sending tremors that rippled through the surrounding camp. Dust filled the air, shrouding the entrance in a suffocating cloud of uncertainty. Xué Shā stood motionless, his keen eyes fixed on the unstable ruins. A bead of sweat slid down his temple as his hands gripped his ceremonial sword tightly.
"Marquis," a soldier called out, breaking the oppressive silence, "they're still inside!"
Xué Shā didn't respond immediately. His heart raced as he considered the implications. These weren't just adventurers—they were students under his jurisdiction.
Each second that passed felt like a lifetime. He turned to the assembled healers. "Be ready," he commanded sharply. "Prepare for immediate treatment."
The tension in the air reached a crescendo when the crumbling entrance gave way to a faint, distant shout. A figure emerged from the thick cloud of debris, stumbling forward.
It was Captain Lù Jiā. His armor was caked with dust and blood, his once-proud stance now faltering with every step. Two mages, Zhāng Mǔ and Xiè Líng, flanked him. Their robes were torn, and they leaned heavily on each other for support, their faces pale from exhaustion and blood loss.
Behind them, the rest of the survivors began to appear one by one. Twelve adventurers, their faces a mix of relief and horror, limped out in staggered lines. Some helped the injured, while others clutched their weapons as if still expecting an attack.
Then came three disoriented students, the ones Lù Jiā had risked his life to save from the left tunnel. Their expressions were hollow, their eyes reflecting the harrowing experience they had endured. They moved hesitantly, as if unsure the ordeal was truly over.
Finally, the last figure stepped out of the dust. Xué Fù Fēn's appearance was hauntingly graceful despite her pale complexion and trembling frame. Her long hair was matted with sweat, but her eyes remained determined. She clutched a broken sword in one hand, a silent testament to the fight she had endured.
The moment they were fully visible, a wave of murmurs swept through the gathered crowd. Healers rushed forward, attending to the wounded with practiced efficiency. Fù Fēn sat down heavily on the nearest stool, allowing a healer to check her injuries.
Xué Shā's relief was short-lived. He scanned the group repeatedly, his mind racing. Something was wrong—someone was missing. "Where is Xiǎo Hǎiyáng?" he demanded, his voice cutting through the commotion.
Fù Fēn looked up, her face shadowed with guilt. "He's still inside," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
A chilling silence descended over the camp. Even the healers paused momentarily before continuing their work.
The marquis turned back toward the dungeon entrance. The structure looked ready to collapse at any moment. His jaw tightened as he considered sending a rescue team, but the risk was far too great. His grip on his sword tightened until his knuckles turned white.
The moments dragged on, each second a tormenting reminder of the peril Hǎiyáng faced. In the distance, the faint sound of marching grew louder. The rhythmic stomp of boots, accompanied by the grating cries of mutant beasts, signaled the arrival of someone with considerable authority.
Part 3: Confrontation and Accusation
Before the dust had fully settled around the collapsed dungeon, the rhythmic sound of heavy boots grew louder, reverberating through the camp. Soldiers marched in unison, their polished armor gleaming under the sunlight that managed to pierce the forest canopy. Mounted on grotesque, man-made mutant beasts, their commanding presence sent an uneasy wave through the gathered crowd.
The beasts, engineered creations of imperial scientists, were unnerving. They resembled llamas in the face, but their bodies were grotesque—short, stocky, and hairless, resembling giant pigs with bloated torsos. The soldiers riding them moved with precision, their formation impeccable as they encircled the camp.
At the head of the column rode a man whose air of authority was unmistakable. His uniform was immaculate, with intricate golden embroidery that set him apart from the soldiers. His eyes, sharp and calculating, scanned the gathered adventurers and healers with disdain.
"Halt!" his voice boomed, cutting through the camp's murmurs. The soldiers halted their march with synchronized precision, forming an imposing barrier around the survivors.
"By order of the emperor, all survivors of the dungeon exploration are hereby under suspicion of theft!"
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Xué Shā stepped forward, his expression one of barely restrained anger. "Commander Dōngfāng Zhāoyáng," he began, his voice firm but respectful, "these are students and adventurers who have risked their lives for the kingdom. Many have died in this effort. Surely, this is no way to treat them!"
Dōngfāng Zhāoyáng dismissed the marquis's words with a wave of his hand. "Marquis, your loyalty is noted," he said coldly, "but the emperor's orders are absolute. These individuals must be investigated."
He turned his piercing gaze toward the weary survivors. "Bring them forward!"
The soldiers moved swiftly, dragging the injured and exhausted survivors into a line. Captain Lù Jiā, despite his weakened state, stepped forward, using his sword as a crutch to support himself. "We've taken nothing," he said hoarsely. "We've lost comrades—good men and women—in that dungeon. There was no treasure, no loot, nothing but death!"
Zhāoyáng's lips curled into a mocking smile. "Then you have nothing to fear, Captain. My White Lady Fox will confirm your claims."
At his command, a figure emerged from behind him. It was a mystical creature, graceful and intimidating in equal measure. The White Lady Fox, a beast of unparalleled elegance, stepped forward. Her fur was pristine white, her nine tails swaying rhythmically, each tipped with silver. Her eyes, glinting with intelligence, scanned the crowd before resting on Lù Jiā.
"Captain Lù Jiā," Zhāoyáng continued, "submit yourself to the examination. Allow my beast to delve into your memory."
Lù Jiā hesitated, his hand tightening around his sword. His pride as a warrior was at odds with the humiliation of having his thoughts exposed. But the murmurs from the crowd and the accusatory gaze of the soldiers left him no choice.
The White Lady Fox approached, her movements fluid and deliberate. She placed a paw on the ground, and a shimmering pool of water appeared in a large ceremonial plate brought forth by a soldier. The surface of the water rippled, and Lù Jiā's memories began to play out like a living painting.
The gathered crowd watched in stunned silence as the memory unfolded. They saw the team battling wave after wave of ants, the desperate cries of their fallen comrades echoing in the dungeon's dark corridors. The screen showed the fierce battles and the bravery of the team until the captain collapsed from exhaustion.
The image suddenly faded. The White Lady Fox turned her head slightly, her tails twitching. "His memory ends here," she said in a melodious yet chilling voice.
Zhāoyáng narrowed his eyes. "Convenient," he muttered. He turned to the rest of the survivors. "If the captain's memory is incomplete, we'll proceed to the next. You!" His gaze landed on Xué Fù Fēn, who flinched under the weight of his scrutiny.
"Wait!" Xué Shā stepped forward, his face flushed with anger. "She is my daughter. You will not—"
Zhāoyáng cut him off, holding up a medallion emblazoned with the imperial crest. "As a marquis, you serve the emperor's will. Do not overstep your bounds."
The tension was palpable. Xué Shā's jaw clenched, but he stepped back reluctantly. "Fù Fēn," he said softly, his voice trembling with barely contained rage, "submit yourself, but know that I will not let this insult go unanswered."
Fù Fēn nodded, her expression resolute despite the fear in her eyes. She stepped forward, her movements deliberate and dignified. The White Lady Fox repeated the process, her paw creating another shimmering pool.
Fù Fēn's memories unfolded before the audience. They saw her fighting alongside the team, her sword flashing as she defended her comrades. Her courage was undeniable, but the memory ended just as she exited the dungeon, her form illuminated by the collapsing entrance.
"She remembers nothing of value," Zhāoyáng said dismissively. "Bring forth the next!"
The crowd grew uneasy. Murmurs spread as people began questioning the fairness of this interrogation. Xué Shā's fist tightened around his sword hilt, but he held his ground, his eyes blazing with suppressed fury.
Part 4: A Battle for Xiǎo Hǎiyáng
The dungeon had finally collapsed, leaving a thick cloud of dust and a suffocating silence in its wake. From the haze, a figure began to materialize—a young man, drenched in sweat, his tattered robes clinging to his body. Xiǎo Hǎiyáng emerged, his face pale but his steps steady. The crowd let out a collective gasp.
"He's alive!" someone whispered.
Among them, Xué Fù Fēn, or Fēn Fēn, rushed forward, relief flooding her expression. "You're safe!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling with emotion. She took a step toward him, her hand reaching out as if she could pull him out of the shadow of the dungeon and into safety.
Hǎiyáng's lips curled into a faint, weary smile, but before he could respond, the ground trembled beneath them. Soldiers, their heavy footsteps echoing through the air, began to march forward. Behind them were grotesque beasts—unsettling, unnervingly engineered creations. The soldiers, mounted on stocky, hairless beasts that resembled bloated pigs, formed a tight perimeter, encircling the group. Their precision was as cold and calculated as their presence.
At the front stood Dongfang, his eyes cold, calculating, and unyielding. His voice rang out like the toll of a bell. "He belongs to me. Step aside."
The tension in the air thickened. The gathered survivors—Captain Lu Jia, Xué Shā, and the others—exchanged uneasy glances, the weight of their uncertainty settling over them like a thick fog.
Xué Shā's brow furrowed. Despite his position and the pressure from the emperor's command, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. He eyed the soldiers, the beasts, and Dongfang with growing unease.
The other adventurers, still recovering from the battle within the dungeon, weren't in any state to fight. Their swords and shields were still resting by their sides, and the mages, while capable, were still recovering from their injuries. The scene was set for a confrontation, but the odds were clearly stacked against them.
"Sir!" Fēn Fēn shouted, her voice trembling with both defiance and fear. She had always known that the real battle was never truly over, but now, standing before this force, it was painfully clear how little time they had.
The grotesque beasts that accompanied the soldiers moved forward with disturbing precision. Their hairless, bloated forms waddled menacingly, their eyes glowing a dull, unnatural hue. Their riders were expressionless, unfeeling, like extensions of the very beasts they rode.
Hǎiyáng's gaze flickered between the soldiers and Dongfang. He felt the weight of their intentions press down on him like an iron vise. As the pressure mounted, Xué Fù Fēn didn't hesitate. She quickly raised her hand and summoned her familiar—her radiant Golden Spine Manta Ray, Shuǐbà, whose golden fins gleamed beneath the dust and sun. The manta ray hovered protectively at her side, its presence a quiet threat.
The Golden Spine Manta Ray swam through the air with fluid grace, its fins cutting through the dust like blades. Fēn Fēn's expression tightened with resolve. "Shuǐbà, protect us!" she ordered.
The manta ray surged forward, its massive form creating gusts of wind as it charged towards Dongfang's beast. The grotesque pig-like creature bellowed and snapped its massive jaw, clearly agitated by the sudden challenge. It charged forward with surprising speed, eager to fight.
"Shuǐbà!" Fēn Fēn cried again, and the manta ray responded with a terrifying blast of water from its mouth. The beam of water collided with the beast, knocking it back, but it quickly recovered, its rider urging it forward.
The tension thickened, and a battle between Shuǐbà and the grotesque beast erupted on the spot. Fēn Fēn's manta ray fought fiercely, urging it to rally, but it was clear that Dongfang's beast was not a typical opponent. It was unnaturally strong, its twisted form more resilient than anticipated.
But Fēn Fēn was not alone. The survivors, though injured and tired, knew what they had to do. Captain Lu Jia, still weak but conscious, grasped his sword and rallied the others. "We must hold them off!" he shouted, though his voice lacked conviction. The beast soldiers advanced on them, too many in number to be ignored.
The adventurers fought back with all their might, but Dongfang's soldiers were relentless. The beast soldiers—creations of imperial scientists—moved like a well-rehearsed machine, their grotesque mounts trampling through the battlefield, causing chaos as they moved with deadly precision.
One by one, the adventurers were pushed back. Captain Lu Jia fought valiantly, but his movements slowed from exhaustion. The grotesque soldiers overtook him, their beasts cornering him as he struggled to defend himself.
Xué Fù Fēn pushed herself harder, her eyes locked on Dongfang's beast, determined to protect Hǎiyáng. "We can't let him take him!" she screamed, but the weight of their numbers was too much. Dongfang's soldiers continued their relentless advance.
Xué Shā stepped forward, his face etched with deep concern. Though he had the power of his electric giant eel at his disposal, he couldn't summon it—not in front of Dongfang and the soldiers. His obligations were clear, but his heart twisted in his chest as he watched his comrades struggle.
The battle raged on, but Fēn Fēn and the others were quickly overwhelmed. The soldiers' beasts pressed forward, forcing the survivors to retreat. Fēn Fēn fought with everything she had, but it became clear that this fight was one they could not win.
"We need to fall back," Captain Lu Jia grunted, his voice strained with pain.
Hǎiyáng stood at the center of it all, watching helplessly as the soldiers pushed the survivors back. His mind raced—there had to be something he could do. But the overwhelming force of Dongfang's army left him with little choice.
Finally, it became undeniable: the survivors had been outmatched. Fēn Fēn's manta ray had done its best, but it had been outmatched by the beast that Dongfang controlled.
With a heavy heart, Hǎiyáng took one last look at Fēn Fēn and the others before he made his decision.
"I have no choice," he whispered under his breath. He stepped forward, his gaze meeting Dongfang's.
"It's over," Hǎiyáng said, his voice quiet but firm.
The battlefield went silent for a brief moment. The remaining survivors, weary and defeated, watched as Hǎiyáng walked toward Dongfang, surrendering himself to the fate that had been sealed long before.
But Fēn Fēn wasn't ready to give up. Her voice rang out, sharp and defiant. "No! Hǎiyáng, you can't do this!" She stumbled forward, her legs trembling from exhaustion, her grip on her summoning staff tight. Her manta ray hovered beside her, its golden glow dimming as it too showed signs of fatigue.
Dongfang raised a hand to halt his soldiers. He smirked, his victory nearly assured, but there was an unmistakable hint of amusement in his cold, calculating gaze as he watched the young woman stand against him. "How noble," he murmured, his voice dripping with mockery. "But pointless."
Fēn Fēn glared at him, her chest heaving with ragged breaths. Her lips trembled, but her eyes burned with fury. "You can't just take him! He's not some tool for your schemes!"
Dongfang's smirk deepened. "And who will stop me? You?" His voice cut through the tense air like a blade. He gestured to his soldiers, who tightened their formation, their grotesque beasts snarling in anticipation of her next move.
Behind her, Captain Lu Jia struggled to his feet. Though injured, he raised his sword, his voice hoarse but resolute. "She's not alone," he rasped. "If you want him, you'll have to go through all of us."
The remaining survivors, battered and exhausted, exchanged glances. They knew the odds were insurmountable, but one by one, they began to step forward, forming a loose but determined line behind Fēn Fēn and Lu Jia.
Even Xué Shā, though constrained by his obligations to the emperor, took a single step forward, his eyes narrowing as he weighed the risks. The electric giant eel within him stirred, sensing his turmoil, but he kept it suppressed. His heart ached as he realized how powerless he had become, his duty to the empire shackling his every move.
Dongfang let out a low chuckle, a sound devoid of warmth. "Admirable, but futile," he said. He raised his hand again, and one of his grotesque beasts surged forward, its rider guiding it straight toward Fēn Fēn. The creature's bloated body moved with alarming speed, its massive jaw snapping as it closed the distance.
"Shuǐbà!" Fēn Fēn shouted. Her manta ray darted forward, intercepting the creature mid-charge. The impact sent a shockwave rippling through the air, the force of the collision forcing both beasts to recoil.
The grotesque beast snarled, its rider urging it forward again, but Shuǐbà wasn't ready to back down. With a powerful sweep of its fins, it unleashed another blast of water, this time aimed directly at the beast's legs. The water struck true, forcing the creature to stagger and collapse to one knee.
For a moment, it seemed like they might have a chance, but Dongfang's laughter shattered that hope. "Impressive," he said, "but ultimately meaningless." He extended his arm, and from his side, a second beast emerged—a towering humanoid form, its grotesque features a chilling mix of man and bear. Its eyes burned with an unnatural light as it stepped forward, each movement a testament to its overwhelming strength.
The sight of the beast sent a ripple of fear through the survivors. Even Shuǐbà hesitated, its glow flickering as it sensed the sheer power of the new opponent.
"Stand down," Dongfang commanded, his voice booming with authority. The humanoid beast roared, its deep, guttural sound reverberating across the battlefield. The grotesque soldiers closed ranks, their mounts growling and snapping as they surrounded the survivors.
Hǎiyáng paused mid-step, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation. He could see the fear in Fēn Fēn's eyes, the hesitation in the others. He knew they couldn't win—not like this.
Taking a deep breath, he turned back to face Fēn Fēn, his expression calm but resolute. "Stop," he said softly, his voice carrying a surprising weight. "This isn't your fight."
Fēn Fēn's eyes widened. "What are you talking about? Of course it's our fight! You—"
"Fēn Fēn," he interrupted, his tone firm. "Please. Trust me."
She opened her mouth to argue, but the look in his eyes silenced her. There was something unshakable in his gaze, a quiet determination that made her chest tighten. Slowly, reluctantly, she lowered her staff. Shuǐbà hovered uncertainly at her side, its glow fading as it sensed her inner conflict.
Dongfang's smirk returned as he stepped forward, his humanoid beast following close behind. "Wise choice," he said. "It seems even you know when to admit defeat."
Hǎiyáng ignored him, his focus solely on Fēn Fēn. "Take care of them," he said quietly, his eyes flicking briefly to Captain Lu Jia and the others. "Please."
Before she could respond, Dongfang gestured to his soldiers. Two of them dismounted, their grotesque beasts snarling as they approached.
Fēn Fēn's hands clenched into fists, tears brimming in her eyes as she watched them drag him away. The weight of her helplessness was suffocating.
As the soldiers pulled Hǎiyáng toward Dongfang, the young man turned his head one last time. His gaze met Fēn Fēn's, and he gave her a faint, reassuring smile.
"Don't worry," he said softly. "This isn't the end."
With that, he allowed himself to be led away, the soldiers forming a protective ring around him as they marched back toward their grotesque mounts. The humanoid beast loomed behind them, its glowing eyes fixed on Fēn Fēn as if daring her to make a move.
The battlefield fell into a heavy silence once more, broken only by the distant sound of chains rattling as Dongfang's forces began their retreat.
Fēn Fēn sank to her knees, her shoulders shaking as she struggled to hold back tears. Around her, the remaining survivors stood in stunned silence, the weight of their loss settling over them like a dark cloud.
Xué Shā watched the scene unfold, his hands clenched at his sides. His heart burned with anger and frustration, but he knew there was nothing he could do—not yet.
As Dongfang's forces disappeared into the distance, the survivors were left to pick up the pieces. The battle was over, but the war was far from won.
Hǎiyáng, seeing the precarious situation, stepped forward once more. "Fēn Fēn, enough!" he called out. "You've done more than enough!"
She turned to him, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You can't ask me to stand down! Not when—"
"I said enough!" Hǎiyáng's voice boomed.
The battlefield was eerily silent. The tense energy in the air dissipated, leaving behind an unnatural stillness.
Beasts from all sides—Dongfang's humanoid bear, the grotesque imperial mounts, and even the exhausted creatures summoned by the survivors—stood motionless. Heads lowered, ears flattened, they exuded a strange mixture of respect and fear, their bodies trembling as if bowing to an invisible force.
Dongfang, unaware of the subtleties, snapped at his beast. "Why have you stopped? Move!" His sharp tone echoed in the air, but his humanoid bear remained frozen, its clawed feet rooted to the ground. Around him, the imperial soldiers glanced at each other, confusion spreading as their mounts refused to obey commands.
Hǎiyáng stepped forward, breaking the spell of uncertainty. His face was calm, though his eyes carried an unreadable depth. He turned to Dongfang, his voice steady.
"If you doubt me, let Mo Xuān examine my memory. She'll prove that I've done nothing wrong."
Dongfang narrowed his eyes, his lips twisting into a smirk. "You think you can escape with clever words?" He gestured sharply. "Fine. Mo Xuān, do it."
From the edge of the gathering, the ethereal figure of Mo Xuān stepped forward. Her snow-white fur shimmered in the dim light, and her piercing eyes locked onto Hǎiyáng. She moved gracefully but hesitated as she neared him. A tremor rippled through her body, betraying a deep, instinctual unease.
Xué Shā, standing among the soldiers, noticed the change. His brows furrowed as a memory surfaced—Mo Xié, the red fox of Chief Huáng Láng, had reacted in the same way when facing Hǎiyáng. His eyes darted to the young man, a dawning realization flickering across his face. Xué Shā, Xuě Jīn Mán, and even Xué Fù Fēn know that Hǎiyáng can talk to any beast. However, they did not take into account that Hǎiyáng can command them.
Mo Xuān stopped a step away from Hǎiyáng, her body quivering as if under immense pressure. Her head dipped slightly, her instincts urging her to bow, but Hǎiyáng shook his head subtly, his gaze firm. She straightened, suppressing her reaction, and lifted a paw toward his temple.
A thread of light extended from her paw, connecting to Hǎiyáng's mind. The air around them grew heavy as she delved into his memories. Her eyes clouded over, reflecting the scenes she uncovered—fragments of his escape from the collapsing dungeon, his body transforming into water to slip through the chaos. Her fur bristled as she encountered the deeper truths hidden within him, truths that resonated with an ancient, unshakable power. But she said nothing of them.
Breaking the connection, she turned to Dongfang. Her voice was calm, though her trembling frame betrayed her fear. "He transformed into water and escaped the dungeon. I found no theft, no deception."
Dongfang's eyes narrowed further. He studied her intently, suspicion flickering across his face. "That's it?" he demanded, his tone dripping with doubt. "You're certain?"
Mo Xuān nodded, her gaze unwavering. "That's all I saw."
But Dongfang was not satisfied. He paced slowly, his hands clasped behind his back. "Something doesn't add up." He stopped abruptly and turned to his soldiers. "Prepare him for transport. We're taking him to Snow Water City for further interrogation."
"No!" Xué Fù Fēn's voice rang out, clear and defiant. She stepped forward, her body battered but her spirit unbroken. "You're not taking him anywhere."
Captain Lu Jia joined her, limping slightly but standing tall. The other survivors, though visibly exhausted, moved to form a protective line in front of Hǎiyáng. Their faces were pale, their weapons trembling in their hands, but their determination was unshakable.
"You'll have to get through us first," Fù Fēn declared, summoning the last vestiges of her strength.
The imperial soldiers shifted uneasily, glancing at Dongfang for guidance. Their beasts, still unnerved, hesitated to advance despite his command. The air crackled with tension as the standoff deepened.
Hǎiyáng stepped forward again, his expression somber. "Enough," he said quietly. His voice carried a weight that silenced the murmurs of the crowd. He looked at Fù Fēn and the others, his gaze lingering on her for a moment. "This isn't your fight. Stand down."
Fù Fēn shook her head vehemently, her eyes blazing. "You can't ask us to—"
"Please," he interrupted gently, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Reluctantly, the survivors lowered their weapons, their resolve crumbling under the weight of his words. Dongfang smirked, his victory seemingly assured. He gestured to his soldiers, who began to encircle Hǎiyáng.
The scene ended in unresolved tension, the fate of Hǎiyáng and his defenders hanging precariously in the balance.
Part 5: The Arrival of the Principals and Master Chen Bái
The square was filled with an air of tension so thick it could almost be sliced with a blade. Xiǎo Hǎiyáng stood at its center, still reeling from the events inside the dungeon and the revelations of his power. Though he had calmed the beasts and given Mo Xuan—the Lady White Fox—access to his memories, Dongfang Zhāoyáng was still intent on pressing for further interrogation, unwilling to relent despite the findings.
But just as Xiǎo Hǎiyáng braced for the next wave of conflict, the air shifted, and an unmistakable presence arrived, shattering the stalemate.
A rumble echoed across the square, the sound of snow breaking apart, as a figure appeared on the horizon. Xué Jīn Mán, the legendary elder of the Xué Family, rode in atop a majestic snow gold eel. The beast's massive, shimmering body moved through the snow with an almost ethereal grace, its golden scales gleaming like molten light against the white backdrop.
The crowd was instantly stunned by the sight of the snow gold eel, a creature of myth and reverence. Its presence alone commanded the respect of all who gazed upon it. As Xué Jīn Mán dismounted, the crowd watched in hushed awe. The square seemed to hold its breath as the elder's gaze swept over the scene, and his commanding presence immediately set the tone.
There was no mistaking it: Xué Jīn Mán had come with purpose, and the situation was about to change.
Xué Jīn Mán: "Surname Dongfang, this is where you stop."
The authority in his voice was undeniable, but Xué Jīn Mán's arrival had not been a mere coincidence. He had been summoned here by none other than Xué Shā, the Marquis of Snow Water and the head of the Xué Family. Despite Xué Shā's high position, his political duties had tied him to the city's borders, and he was unable to act directly. However, he had not been idle.
As soon as the situation with Xiǎo Hǎiyáng escalated, Xué Shā had sent a desperate message to Xué Jīn Mán. Understanding the gravity of the situation, he called upon his elder to come immediately and intervene. Xiǎo Hǎiyáng was not just a random individual; he was the one who had saved Xué Shā's family. With his life on the line, Xué Shā had been unable to stand by and watch as Dongfang Zhāoyáng threatened him.
Xué Shā knew that Xiǎo Hǎiyáng's capture or death would be a blow to their family's honor. And so, with no other choice, he called upon Xué Jīn Mán to take swift action. The elder, understanding both the personal and political stakes, rode swiftly into the city to resolve the matter before it escalated further.
As Xué Jīn Mán arrived, Dongfang Zhāoyáng was visibly unsettled, the air around him growing heavier with the pressure of the moment. He knew that facing Xué Jīn Mán was not a battle he could win easily.
But Xué Jīn Mán wasn't alone. The Adventurer's Guild—though usually neutral in political affairs—had also come to Xiǎo Hǎiyáng's defense. Master Chen Bái, the respected leader of the Adventurer's Guild, appeared at the far side of the square. His arrival, too, had been the result of careful consideration.
Not many knew of Chen Bái's personal connection to Xiǎo Hǎiyáng, but Lu Jiā, a beloved member of the Chen family, had been among those who fought alongside Xiǎo Hǎiyáng. As the battle between Dongfang Zhāoyáng and Xiǎo Hǎiyáng's forces unfolded,
Lu Jiā had sent a private letter to Chen Bái. In his message, he expressed a deep concern for how the Chen family would be seen if they failed to protect the savior of his life. The letter carried a simple but profound request: how could they disgrace the one who had saved Lu Jiā and risk tarnishing the Chen family name?
With Lu Jiā's plea weighing heavily on his heart, Chen Bái had decided to come to Xiǎo Hǎiyáng's defense. The Chen family's honor was intertwined with the young tamer's fate. Chen Bái knew that if the Chen family did not act now, their reputation would forever be stained in the eyes of the people.
Chen Bái: "Young man, you would do well to reconsider your course of action. Xiǎo Hǎiyáng is not a criminal to be interrogated without cause. He is a hero to many, and his life is not to be treated lightly."
The combined presence of Xué Jīn Mán and Chen Bái left Dongfang Zhāoyáng with few options. His steely resolve wavered for the first time, though his pride still burned. The power of Xué Jīn Mán's snow gold eel and Chen Bái's unwavering support could not be ignored.
For a long moment, Dongfang Zhāoyáng was silent. His gaze flicked between Xué Jīn Mán, Chen Bái, and Xiǎo Hǎiyáng. His instincts told him to resist, to hold onto his power. But even Dongfang Zhāoyáng knew when he was outmatched.
Dongfang Zhāoyáng: "I respect the two elders," he muttered, his voice laced with frustration. "But for today, I will still have to take this kid for further investigation. Everyone who against me today is the enemy of our kingdom!"
As Dongfang Zhāoyáng's guards approached Xiǎo Hǎiyáng, the air in the clearing grew heavy with tension. The combined presence of Xuě Jīn Màn and Chén Bái offered no real resistance to the imperial authority Dongfang wielded. Marquis Xuě Shā stood motionless, his face etched with anguish as duty and personal loyalty clashed within him.
Xuě Fù Fēn, eyes brimming with tears, clenched her fists and turned to her father. Her voice cracked with desperation, slicing through the oppressive silence.
"Father! Is there really no one who can save Hǎiyáng? Are we just going to stand here and watch him be taken away?"
Her words struck like thunder. Xuě Shā's hands twitched at his sides, but he didn't move. Dongfang smirked, confident in his unassailable authority.
"Take him," Dongfang commanded, his voice echoing with finality.
The soldiers began to close the distance, their boots crunching on the gravel. Hǎiyáng glanced at Xuě Fù Fēn, his expression calm yet resigned, as though already prepared for whatever fate awaited him.
The scene held its breath, an overwhelming sense of helplessness washing over everyone as Hǎiyáng's capture seemed inevitable.
PART 6: The Arrival of Qiàn Lì and Wēnshì
The tense atmosphere shattered as the ground trembled beneath their feet. A sudden gust of wind swept through the clearing, carrying a scent of earth and rain. Gasps rippled through the crowd as two figures emerged, their presence commanding immediate attention.
Qiàn Lì, Hǎiyáng's second aunt, stood tall, draped in flowing robes embroidered with golden phoenixes, her expression regal and fierce. Beside her, Wēnshì, the younger brother of Hǎiyáng's grandfather, exuded an aura of quiet power, his eyes piercing as they surveyed the scene.
"Enough!" Qiàn Lì's voice rang out, sharp and unyielding. She stepped forward, her gaze locking onto Dongfang Zhāoyáng, who stiffened under her scrutiny.
"Dongfang Zhāoyáng," she continued, "how dare you lay a hand on my nephew? Do you think the Hóng family will allow this insult to pass unpunished?"
The words hung in the air, and a stunned silence fell over the crowd. Murmurs began to spread like wildfire as people processed the implications of her declaration.
"Nephew?" someone whispered.
Qiàn Lì turned toward Hǎiyáng, her expression softening. "Hǎiyáng," she said, her tone gentler now, "you've caused us a great deal of worry. Come here, child."
The revelation hit like a lightning strike. Hǎiyáng was not merely another student or adventurer—he was the lost grandson of Hóng Zǔjūn, the head of the illustrious Hóng family.
Dongfang's face paled, his confidence faltering as the weight of Hǎiyáng's true identity bore down on him. Qiàn Lì raised her chin, her voice cutting through the growing murmurs.
"This boy is under the protection of the Hóng family. Any further attempts to harm him will be considered an act of treason against our lineage."
Wēnshì stepped forward, his presence amplifying the gravity of the moment. "It would be wise, Dongfang, to reconsider your actions," he said, his voice calm but carrying an unmistakable threat.
The guards halted in their tracks, uncertainty written on their faces. Dongfang clenched his jaw, his fists trembling with suppressed rage.
For a moment, time seemed to stand still. The sheer power and influence of the Hóng family enveloped the clearing, shifting the dynamics entirely. The awe and fear in the eyes of the crowd spoke volumes.
The balance of power had irrevocably changed, leaving Dongfang Zhāoyáng cornered. As the crowd watched in stunned silence, the presence of Qiàn Lì and Wēnshì made it clear: Hóng Hǎiyáng was no longer an isolated target but a protected heir of one of the most powerful families in the empire, second to the emperor's family clan.
The weight of their revelation settled over the square like a heavy blanket, suffocating any lingering protests. Dongfang Zhāoyáng's once-unshakable arrogance faltered, his calculating mind racing to reassess the situation. For the first time, his eyes betrayed uncertainty as he glanced at the powerful figures of Qiàn Lì and Wēnshì.
Qiàn Lì's voice cut through the silence, sharp and unyielding. "Dongfang Zhāoyáng, your actions today will not be forgotten. To challenge the Hóng family is to challenge the empire's foundations. Step back while you still have the chance."
Wēnshì, though silent, exuded a quiet menace. The elder's piercing gaze bore into Dongfang, as if weighing the younger man's worth. His presence alone was a statement—one that promised devastating consequences if the confrontation escalated further.
Dongfang clenched his fists, his jaw tightening as he struggled to maintain composure. "This is not over," he finally hissed, his voice low and seething with barely suppressed rage. "The emperor's decree supersedes all. Do not think that the Hóng family's influence will shield him forever."
But even as he spoke, his forces hesitated, unsure of whether to follow their leader's commands in the face of such overwhelming opposition. The crowd murmured, their whispers filled with awe and fear at the unexpected turn of events.
Qiàn Lì didn't flinch. Instead, she took a step forward, her imposing presence forcing Dongfang to take an involuntary step back. "Hǎiyáng is under our protection. If you wish to persist, you'll find out just how deep the Hóng family's power runs."
Dongfang's lips curled into a bitter sneer, but he made no further move. His retreat was not born of defeat but of strategy—one born of a realization that this battle could not be won outright. Without another word, he turned on his heel, signaling for his forces to withdraw.
The square erupted in a mix of relieved sighs and hushed exclamations as the tension finally broke. Hǎiyáng, though still processing the whirlwind of revelations, felt the weight on his shoulders lessen slightly. He turned to Qiàn Lì and Wēnshì, their calm and commanding presence a stark contrast to the chaos of the moment.
"Thank you, Auntie" he managed, his voice heavy with gratitude.
Qiàn Lì's expression softened as she stepped closer, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "You have nothing to thank us for, Hǎiyáng. You are family. And family protects its own."
As the tension dissolved and the dust settled, Elder Wēnshì approached the remaining elders: Xuě Jīn Màn, the dignified representative of the Xuě family; Marquis Xuě Shā; and the steadfast Chen Bái. His voice carried both warmth and gravitas as he addressed them.
"The Hóng family will never forget what you've done for Hǎiyáng, our beloved heir," Wēnshì said, bowing slightly. "Your courage and steadfastness in standing by him during such a perilous moment are worthy of our deepest gratitude. If ever you should need the Hóng family's assistance, so long as it does not violate our family's principles, you may call upon us."
The gathered elders nodded solemnly, understanding the weight of Wēnshì's words. Such an offer from the illustrious Hóng family was a rare honor, one that signified an unbreakable bond forged in loyalty and respect.
Before departing, Qiàn Lì turned her sharp gaze to Xuě Fù Fèn, her lips curling into a teasing smile. "Ah, our little niece-in-law," she said lightly, making sure everyone around could hear. "Are you sure we can take Hǎiyáng with us now? After all, it was you who fought so tirelessly for him. Surely, you wouldn't let him leave so easily."
Xuě Fù Fèn's face turned scarlet as she fumbled for words. Her mortified expression drew chuckles from the onlookers. She darted behind her father, Xuě Shā, unable to bear Qiàn Lì's playful taunt.
Xuě Shā stepped forward then, his expression resolute as he bowed slightly toward Hǎiyáng. "On behalf of the Xuě family, I offer my gratitude to you, Hǎiyáng. You saved my daughter, and for that, we are forever in your debt."
Chen Bái followed suit, his stern face softening as he too bowed. "And on behalf of the Chen family, my thanks. You've not only proven yourself as a warrior but as a protector of those under your care."
The sentiment spread quickly. The surviving 11 adventurers who had fought alongside Hǎiyáng came forward, expressing their heartfelt gratitude. The principals of the Western Verdant Grove School and the Northern Apex Beast Fighting School approached him as well, their eyes gleaming with respect.
"We would be honored to have you visit our schools whenever you please," one principal said warmly. "You've shown remarkable strength and wisdom. Consider yourself always welcome, with privileges befitting your valor."
As the Hóng family prepared to leave, the crowd began to disperse, murmuring with awe and respect. The weight of the moment lingered, marking a turning point in Hǎiyáng's life—a moment where his destiny began to unfurl before him.
Unknown to all, hidden within the shadows of the surrounding trees, an army of beasts watched in silence. They moved with synchronized grace, their eyes sharp and unwavering as they followed the retreating figures of the Hóng family.
This silent force, led by BǎoBǎo, the enigmatic Land Protector, comprised some of the most formidable beasts in Snow Water City. Among them were Mò Xié, Chief Huáng Láng's red fox; powerful tiger beasts; giant panda beasts; agile wolf beasts; majestic lion beasts; and countless other land-element creatures.
Their mission had been clear—to protect their lord, the descendant of Thoth Lord, a truth unknown to any human present. They had remained hidden, poised to strike if Dongfang had dared to escalate. Their loyalty to Hǎiyáng ran deeper than any human law or allegiance, a bond forged by an ancient covenant that transcended mortal understanding.
As the last human left the scene, the beasts began to retreat into the depths of the forest, their forms disappearing like whispers into the night. For them, this was not a moment of triumph but a duty fulfilled—a silent promise to safeguard their lord, no matter the cost.
And so, the square fell silent once more, the echoes of the confrontation fading into memory, while the forces that shaped Hǎiyáng's destiny continued to gather strength in the shadows.
With that, the confrontation ended, but its implications lingered. The revelation of Hǎiyáng's lineage had not only shifted the power dynamics in Snow Water City but had also painted a target on his back for anyone seeking to challenge the Hóng family. For Hǎiyáng, this was only the beginning of a far greater journey.
------------------------------End of Chapter 13-------------------------------------