Two weeks passed. To the citizens of Riverstone City, it was a period of simmering tension. To the recruits of the White Paw Company, it was an eternity in hell. Xylia's training regimen was a brutal crucible designed to grind away weakness and forge the survivors into weapons. The day began before dawn with grueling physical conditioning, followed by hours of merciless sparring. The company was being forged in a fire of sweat and pain, and the forty-three who had knelt were now a hardened core of thirty-eight survivors.
While the Paw was being sharpened, the Shell was expanding its reach. Kui, with his uncanny eye for talent, had fully staffed the Guild's administrative and logistical wings. His newly hired caravan master, Bao, had meticulously planned the Guild's first major outbound shipment: a long train of wagons loaded with local specialties destined for the Green Mountain Sect and its allies.
The day of the caravan's departure was bright and clear. Twenty of the White Paw Company's best, led by Huo Yan, were assigned as guards. Gao Shan, Lian, and Jian were among them, their new, standardized leather armor bearing the stark crimson and white emblem of the Paw.
"Your job is simple," Xylia's voice was a low growl as she addressed them in the pre-dawn gloom of the courtyard. "The wagons get through. The goods get through. If bandits attack, you kill them. If a bigger dog gets in your way, you break its teeth. Don't die. Don't fail. Move out."
She watched them go, her face an unreadable mask of ice. This was their first real test.
Unseen by the mercenaries, a single, luxuriously appointed but unmarked carriage followed the caravan at a discreet distance. Inside, Kui was cheerfully arranging a tea set while Xylia sat across from him, her eyes closed in meditation.
"Ah, there is nothing like a trip back to the Wise Host's abode!" Kui said, his voice filled with genuine enthusiasm. "This old turtle can feel his bloodline crying out for a nice, long soak in that magnificent energy. This city is profitable, yes, but it is spiritually barren!"
"The troops need a real test," Xylia grunted, her eyes remaining shut, but her agreement with the old turtle was absolute. The thin, stale energy of the mortal world was a constant, low-grade irritant to her senses. The thought of immersing herself in the vibrant, pure power of the sanctuary was a primal craving she refused to voice. "But I will not risk the Host's first shipment on their inexperience. We watch. We only act if they fail."
"A wise precaution, Lady Xylia! A very wise precaution indeed!" Kui chuckled, recognizing the flimsy excuse for what it was. He knew the proud bear sovereign craved the sanctuary's energy just as much as he did, even if she was too proud to admit it.
In the opulent halls of the Crimson Citadel, Guild Master Jin Tiegu received the news of the caravan's departure with a cruel, predatory smile. "Gather the enforcers," he commanded. "I will lead the hunt myself. Today, we will burn their wagons, slaughter their guards, and hang their heads on the city gates."
Ten miles north of Riverstone City, the road snaked through a rocky pass known as the Serpent's Spine. Bao, the caravan master, reined in his horse. "Something's not right. The road is too quiet."
Huo Yan's hand rested on the hilt of his broadsword. "A storm's coming." He raised his hand. "Gao Shan! Wagons in a defensive circle! Lian, Jian! Scout the ridges! The rest of you, battle formations!"
The mercenaries moved with a speed and precision they hadn't possessed two weeks ago. They were just in time. From both ends of the pass, figures in red armor appeared, blocking the path. At their head was Jin Tiegu, his Core Formation pressure washing over the caravan.
"Well, well," Jin Tiegu sneered. "Look at the little Paws, so far from their den."
Huo Yan stepped forward, his expression grim. "Jin Tiegu. This caravan is under the protection of the White Paw Company. Turn back now."
Jin Tiegu laughed. "Kill them all!"
The Crimson Hand enforcers roared and charged.
"Spirits out!" Huo Yan bellowed. The command was met with a surge of spiritual energy from the White Paw mercenaries. Behind Huo Yan, the spectral image of a massive, grizzled grey wolf appeared, its phantom eyes burning with cold fury.
The battle erupted. Gao Shan roared, and the air behind him solidified into the form of a great Armored Bear, its spiritual hide shimmering like brown iron. Every punch he threw was backed by the phantom weight of the bear's claws, sending men flying with crushed armor.
Lian was a blur, a spectral Shadow Lynx with glowing eyes mirroring her every move. The phantom cat would feint left while Lian struck right, its presence sowing confusion and creating deadly openings for her daggers. Jian stood his ground, and a shimmering, ethereal shell formed around him—the manifestation of his Iron-Shell Tortoise spirit. His spear darted out from behind the spiritual shield, a deadly serpent from its den.
The Crimson Hand enforcers summoned their own spirits—a chaotic mix of Blood Hounds, Fire Beetles, and other lesser beasts—but they were a disorganized mob compared to the disciplined synergy of the Paw.
Still, numbers were a crushing advantage. The defensive circle began to buckle. Huo Yan, his Grizzled Wolf spirit tearing at the spirits of his opponents, was locked in a desperate battle with three of Jin Tiegu's lieutenants, and was taking heavy damage.
Just as one of the lieutenants was about to land a killing blow on an overwhelmed Huo Yan, Jin Tiegu, who was watching from the rear, raised a hand, gathering a ball of crimson energy, preparing to deliver the final, devastating blow.
It was a blow he never got to launch.
From the rear of the caravan, the door to the unmarked carriage swung open. A portly, cheerful old man stepped out, a wide, almost pitying smile on his face.
"Now, now, friends," Kui's voice was a pleasant boom that somehow carried over the din of battle. "Is this any way to conduct business?"
He raised a hand. The air in front of the caravan shimmered, and a massive, semi-translucent dome of golden-brown energy materialized, shaped like a colossal turtle shell. Jin Tiegu's crimson fireball, which he launched in a fit of startled rage, slammed into the dome and dissipated with a harmless sizzle.
Jin Tiegu's eyes went wide with shock and fear. Another Core Formation expert?
He never got the chance to process it. While all eyes were on the sudden appearance of Kui and his impenetrable defense, a white-haired figure appeared beside Jin Tiegu as if she had teleported. It was Xylia. She had moved the instant she saw Huo Yan was in true danger.
"You," her voice was a low, guttural snarl, "are the dog who calls himself a tiger?"
Jin Tiegu roared in desperation, trying to turn his power on her, but he was too slow. She didn't use a complex technique. She simply punched him. A single, straightforward punch to the chest.
The sound was the sharp crack of a breaking mountain. Jin Tiegu's spiritual energy protection, his enchanted inner armor, and half the bones in his chest shattered simultaneously. He flew backward like a cannonball, carving a long trench in the road before coming to a stop in a broken, bleeding heap. His Core was cracked, his meridians shattered. His life as a powerful cultivator was over.
Xylia strode to his broken form, placing a boot on his throat. The surviving Crimson Hand members stood frozen in terror.
"Listen, you worms," Xylia's voice boomed across the pass. "This city. This road. It belongs to the Paw now. Go back and tell whatever masters you serve." She pressed her boot down slightly, eliciting a gurgled scream from Jin Tiegu. "Tell them the White Bear has come to this mountain. And she is hungry."
She removed her boot and turned her back on them. She walked towards her own battered, bleeding, but victorious troops. They stared at her, their faces a mixture of awe, terror, and fervent worship.
She stopped in front of Huo Yan. "Report," she grunted.
"No dead, Commander," the old mercenary said, his voice hoarse with a mixture of respect and profound relief as he recalled his martial spirit. "A dozen wounded, some of us pretty bad, but we'll all live thanks to you. The wagons are secure."
Xylia nodded once, her gaze sweeping over her battered troops. "Tend to the wounded. Patch yourselves up. The rest of you… you didn't completely fail."
For the men and women of the White Paw Company, that gruff praise was worth more than a mountain of gold. They had faced the tide, and with their Alpha, they had not only survived; they had conquered. The reign of the Crimson Hand was over. The age of the Paw had begun.