The air hummed—low, thrumming, like a beast stirring in its sleep.
The Verdant Nagalotus Ward blazed to life, its vines coiling and twitching as if infused with a Naga's soul. Pale green lotus patterns rippled across the vine surface, glowing faintly, while beneath the leaves, scales flickered—silver-green, just like Nagasith's Moonscale—now visible as the ward roused itself.
Tan Kai's heart hammered in his chest. This wasn't the gentle energy of the training ground. This was pressure—thick, heavy, wrapping around him like a fist. His chest tingled, the golden lotus energy within him thrumming in response, as if answering the ward's call. He gripped his staff until his knuckles whitened, eyes locked on the clearing beyond the vines.
Master Tai Chu stood before him, his back straight, blue robe billowing slightly in the wind. Gone was the mango-munching old man—this was the Array master. He lifted a hand, palm brushing the trembling vines, and the ward's glow brightened. "Breathe, Tan Kai," he said, his voice calm but steady, cutting through the hum. "The ward senses danger. So do you. Trust it."
Tan Kai forced a deep breath. Beside him, Yara's hand tightened around her own staff, her gaze sharp. Bright, who'd been half-hiding behind Nam a second ago, leaned forward, eyes wide—excitement overriding fear. "That's… that's the ward? It looks like it's alive!"
Nam elbowed him, but her eyes were fixed on the vines too. "Quiet! They're coming."
And come they did.
Tong stepped into view first, the Moon-Eye Mirror held high. His grin was sharp, greedy, as he pricked his thumb with a knife and let a drop of blood fall onto the mirror's surface. The silver-green light flared, now streaked with crimson—poisonous, hungry. "Tai Chu! Your little vine cage won't hold!"
He angled the mirror, and a beam of blood-tinted light shot forward, slamming into the ward.
Crackle—hiss!
The vines sizzled, smoke curling from the point of impact. A gash tore open in the ward, black and smoking, and Tan Kai heard Bright gasp. But before Tong could laugh, the Naga scales beneath the vines blazed. The gash sealed itself shut in a flash, the vines coiling tighter, as if the ward had just healed.
Erlang Shen stood a few paces back, his third eye glowing faintly between his brows—just a flicker, but enough to make the air feel colder. "A Verdant Nagalotus Ward," he murmured, tone half-admiring, half-sharp. "Not just lotus magic. Naga guardian arts. Rare."
Ne Zha twirled his fire-tipped spear, the flame at its tip dancing higher. He leaned forward, eyes alight with the thrill of a hunt. "Interesting. Think your spear can pierce it, Erlang?" He tapped the ground with the spear's butt, and a small patch of grass sizzled to ash. The spear let out a low, resonant hum—not a threat, exactly, but a greeting—as if acknowledging the ward's own awakened spirit.
Master Tai Chu's fingers twitched. The vines rippled again, this time sending a faint green pulse toward Ne Zha's spear. A silent response.
High-stakes, no words. A clash of wills, already underway.
"Enough gawking!" Tong snapped, his face twisting with irritation. He waved a hand at his men. "Go! Tear that ward open! Let the Heavenly Soldiers see we're useful!"
Two of his men charged, swords drawn. They lunged for the ward's earlier gash—but the vines moved. Fast. Like striking snakes, they coiled around the men's ankles, yanking them off their feet. The men crashed to the ground, yelling, as the vines tightened.
"Tan Kai," Master Tai Chu said, never taking his eyes off the clearing.
Tan Kai's breath caught. This was it—real combat, not practice. He fumbled for the lotus needles at his waist, then steadied his hand. The golden energy in his chest warmed, flowing down to his fingertips. He aimed at the tangled men, threw.
The needles streaked forward, glowing gold. They struck the men's tunics, and in an instant, lotus patterns burst across the fabric—tight, binding, locking their arms to their sides. The men struggled, but couldn't move.
"Yes!" Bright whispered, pumping a fist. "That's our Tan Kai!"
Yara's lips curved into a small smile, relief flooding her. He did it.
Tong's face darkened. "Useless fools!" He raised the Moon-Eye Mirror again, but before he could fire, Erlang Shen stepped closer. His Fingertip glowed with faint divine light—not enough to attack, but enough to make Tong freeze.
"Patience, Tong," Erlang Shen said, his voice smooth as silk. "The ward is strong. Wasting men won't help." His eyes flicked to Tan Kai, then back to Tong—assessing, calculating.
Ne Zha laughed, a sharp, bright sound. He tapped his spear against his palm, the flame flaring. "Or we could just burn the whole thing down. Save time." The spear hummed again, louder this time, and the ward's vines twitched—defensive, now.
Master Tai Chu's palm pressed flat against the vines. The ward's glow intensified, the lotus patterns spreading wider. "You won't burn anything," he said, his voice carrying across the clearing. "This ward isn't just stone and vine. It's a spirit. And you've woken it."
Tong snarled, tired of being sidelined. "I'll show you spirit!" He poured more of his blood onto the Moon-Eye Mirror, ignoring the sharp pain in his palm. The mirror's light blazed, crimson and silver-green, brighter than before. The air reeked of sweet, sickly venom—Moon Venom Qi, leaking from the overtaxed mirror.
He yelled, slamming the mirror's beam into the ward.
This time, the gash didn't seal.
The vines shrieked—high, keening—as the beam burned through them. The Naga scales flickered, dimmed, and the ward's glow wavered. Tan Kai's chest ached, like he was sharing the ward's pain.
"Master!" he called.
Master Tai Chu didn't answer. He lifted both hands, palms glowing with a soft, brilliant green. A single lotus petal materialized between his fingers—small, but radiating power. He pressed it to the ward's gash.
"Awaken," he murmured.
The ward roared.
Not a hum. A roar—deep, resonant, like a Naga's call. The vines coiled upward, thicker now, sharper, their tips glinting like fangs. The lotus patterns blazed, and the Naga scales shimmered, covering the ward like armor. The gash sealed shut, and the vines lashed out—fast as lightning—snapping at Tong's feet.
Tong stumbled back, tripping over a root. The Moon-Eye Mirror slipped from his hand, clattering to the ground. But before he could grab it, Erlang Shen was there, his boot pressing down on the mirror's edge.
"Give it to me, Tong," Erlang Shen said, his third eye glowing bright gold now. Divine pressure washed over Tong, pinning him to the ground. "You can't control it. It's poisoning you."
Tong glared at Erlang Shen, his fingers digging into the dirt until his knuckles whitened—he could almost feel the Mirror's cold metal slipping from his grasp moments ago. He spat on the ground, the taste of blood and cloying venom thick on his tongue. "Fine! But this isn't over! The lotus is mine—and I'll take your heads with it!"
Tong's Strategist darted forward, pulling Tong's arm. "Boss! Let's go! These two are gonna kill us! We can get the mirror later!"
Tong glared at Erlang Shen, then at the ward—still thrumming, vines coiling like ready fangs—before yanking his arm free and stumbling backward. "Move!" he snapped at his men, already backing into the trees.
Erlang Shen lifted his boot, but didn't pick up the mirror—yet. He watched Tong's group flee into the forest, then turned to Ne Zha.
"Patience," he said. "The mirror's poisoned. Let it cool. And the ward…" He glanced at Master Tai Chu, who stood calm before the now-ferocious vines. "It's awake. But even awake, it can't hold forever."
Ne Zha grinned, twirling his spear. "Good. I want a real fight."
Inside the ward, the tension slowly seeped away. The vines relaxed, their glow dimming to a soft green, but the Naga scales still flickered—alert, watchful.
Tan Kai let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, his legs wobbly. Yara stepped beside him, her hand brushing his arm. "You did amazing," she said, her voice soft.
Tan Kai's cheeks warmed. "I… I just did what Master said." He glanced at her, and his heart skipped a beat—her eyes were bright, proud, and he suddenly remembered how scared he'd been when Tong aimed the mirror. Scared not for himself, but for her.
Bright bounded over, clapping him on the back. "Amazing? He was epic! Did you see those guys freeze? Like statues! Next time, we should practice throwing needles at mangoes—target practice!"
Nam rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "Yeah, yeah. Let's not celebrate too soon. Tong's gonna come back. And those two Heavenly Soldiers… they're worse."
Master Tai Chu turned to them, his usual warmth returning—but there was a sharpness in his eyes, too. "She's right. That was just a skirmish. The real fight's coming." He looked at Tan Kai, nodding. "You did well. Your lotus energy responded to the ward's call—you're more connected to it than I thought."
Tan Kai straightened, pride swelling in his chest. "I'll keep practicing, Master. I'll get stronger."
Yara watched him, her heart fluttering. He was always trying, always pushing—and when he spoke like that, like he'd move mountains to protect them… she couldn't look away.
Master Tai Chu's gaze flicked between them, a faint smile tugging at his lips. Then he clapped his hands. "Rest up. Drink water. We'll need our strength. The ward's awake now—but even spirits tire. And when it does…" He glanced at the clearing beyond the vines, where the Moon-Eye Mirror still lay, glinting faintly in the dirt.
"…they'll be back."
Tan Kai nodded, gripping his staff. Yara stood beside him, her shoulder brushing his. Bright and Nam fetched water skins, their usual bickering soft now, laced with relief.
Outside, the wind rustled the trees. The Moon-Eye Mirror's glow dimmed, but didn't fade. And somewhere in the forest, Tong seethed, his palms still stinging from the mirror's venom, every step fueling the fire of his rage.
The ward had woken. The enemy had shown their hand.
And the real storm was just beginning.