Around a jagged rift in the earth, tents cluster beneath the fading light, a wooden fence hemming the camp.
Humans move in steady patrols, their steps sharp, while two martial artists of the Master Realm stand watch by the rift itself, hands never far from their weapons.
Hidden within a drifting cloud, Kaelan studies the scene for long minutes before turning away, voice low to himself. "Now is not the time to attack. They are fully alert."
Wings folding tight, he glides from the cloud and sweeps back to the distant rendezvous, where Bai Huli and the others wait in silence.
Landing on a branch above them, Kaelan's gaze drops to the demons gathered in their humanoid forms.
Mei Rong tilts her head up, her tone careful. "How is it?"
"They're fully alert — attacking now would be disastrous," Kaelan says plainly.
Bai Huli nods, her tail sweeping the ground behind her as she answers, "Yes — they'll be least watchful once they've stripped the ruin and prepare to leave."
Huang Lang narrows his eyes. "But if we wait until then, some humans might slip away — and if news of a Night Dynasty treasure reaches the human side, we'll have every hunter and family after us."
Kaelan's beak quirks. "Then we attack now."
They stare at him, question burning in each face. Kaelan continues, "Not a head-on strike. We let lesser demons besiege the camp first — they'll mop up the weak humans and pin the rest; we only target the strong and the prize."
She Ling frowns. "That will draw other demons' attention."
Mei Rong's voice is blunt. "Let them come. We are strong enough to hold the ruin; no other den will move without our leave."
Huang Lang shakes his head. "Who can supply the fighters? I have no territory, no brood to call."
Bai Huli answers, "I can bring men, but my den is far — it will take days to gather and march."
Yu Lian interjects, "My tributary can send fighters now, but most are bound to the water; they cannot besiege a land camp alone."
"She Ling can bring hers in a few hours," Mei Rong says.
"And mine as well," Mei Rong adds shortly.
Kaelan inclines his head. "I have no demon vassals, only human dependents."
Bai Huli's expression hardens. "We should not involve humans if we can help it."
The four exchange looks, then nod — pragmatism outweighs idealism.
Kaelan decides quickly: "She Ling, Mei Rong, and Yu Lian move to lead their forces here; Bai Huli will bring her den later."
Bai Huli warns, "I will be late. You three begin the assault; I will join with my brood."
Huang Lang offers, "We could recruit fighters from the demon city."
Kaelan whispers, one brow lifting at the notion, "Demon city?"
Bai Huli dismisses it with a curt shake. "Not yet — that draws too much scrutiny."
After a few tense breaths, Bai Huli, She Ling, and Mei Rong slip away into the dark toward their territories.
Yu Lian says softly, "I will gather my men," and dives into the river, fins flashing as she vanishes beneath the surface.
Kaelan folds his wings, perching high in the canopy, eyes half-lidded but mind sharp as blades.
Below, She Ling and Mei Rong return with their subordinates, hundreds of lesser demons fanning out like a tide across the broken forest floor.
Kaelan descends, his shadow cutting across the leaves, and meets them where Huang Lang waits.
"The plan is simple," Kaelan says, voice low but carrying authority. "Surround the camp. Strike from a distance. Force the humans to act first — make them reveal their strength."
They nod, and almost at once the commands ripple outward. Demons scatter into position, circling the crude wooden walls.
The first wave of attacks crashes forward — tongues of fire, spikes of ice, waves of water, poisoned mist, stone lances, and blades of wind, tearing through the air.
The night resounds with roars, shrieks, and the hum of magic power colliding.
Inside the camp, humans respond with calm efficiency.
Shields rise, walls of qi block the incoming torrent.
Yet they do not charge out.
They cling to defence.
The siege intensifies.
The wooden fence splinters.
Tents collapse under fire and ice.
The smell of smoke, charred leather, and blood lingers in the air.
Then, suddenly, the humans vanish, retreating one by one into the rift at the camp's centre.
Demons surge closer, encircling the dark maw, but none dares enter—the unknown presses like a weight. One wrong step could spell slaughter.
Yu Lian emerges from the river, hair damp and eyes wary. "What do we do next?"
Kaelan's gaze is fixed on the rift, unreadable. "We wait for Bai Huli.
When she arrives, we decide whether to storm the rift or to strike when they return."
His eyes drift briefly to the river, a stray thought curling sharp and cold. "Or perhaps… we flood them out."
The others nod in silence, spreading their forces into a loose circle around the rift, sealing it with numbers and presence.
Kaelan withdraws to a branch, folding into stillness, feathers blending into the canopy.
His thoughts stray.
He should have brought the jade crystals that stored the three minor magic powers — transformation, iron body, and hide.
Each demanded practice, repetition, and grounding. Now time slipped away, wasted.
Instead, he turns inward, spirit reaching for the golden sword hidden under his feathers.
He does not draw it.
He does not need to. With his spirit sense, he touches the last of the three engraved symbols, tracing its impossible complexity.
Thousands of lines interwoven like stars in a night sky.
It is maddening. It is vast. It is unlike the first two — this one feels alive, resisting him.
Kaelan's breath deepens, the forest noise dulling to a hum as he sinks into comprehension.
Kaelan's breath deepens, the forest noise dulling to a hum as he sinks into comprehension.
Hours pass, yet the symbol resists him — twisting and folding like an endless maze.
Still, he presses, his spirit tracing each impossible line until the third symbol begins to unravel its hidden rhythm.
A whisper of destruction, bound and sealed, flickers faintly in his mind.
Far away, beneath the cliff that serves as his perch, another scene unfolds.
Chen Qi emerges from the forest's shadow, step firm and steady.
Behind him trail the prisoners: the young inspector and his servant, both bound, the youth still pale from the poison; and the four bandit leaders, their wrists lashed tight with rope, faces sullen with pain and defeat.
They are herded into the small clearing under the looming cliff.
The air carries the chill of the river and the scent of pine needles, but what draws their eyes most is the emptiness above.
The cliff is silent.
The great crow demon is absent.
Chen Qi does not stop at the empty clearing. He climbs the slope and steps onto the cliff above.
The wind whips his robe as black wings beat the air around him. Dozens of crows take flight, their cawing sharp and restless.
A few larger ones, their aura of the demon refining realm plain to sense, swoop lower and circle him.
Their cries press against his ears, but instead of noise, meaning flows clear as spoken words.
Chen Qi freezes.
He understands them.
And more, when he says aloud, the crows still their wings and tilt their heads as if hearing a master's command.
Intrigued, he calls one of the villagers climbing after him.
The man hesitates, then speaks to the flock—and the flock answers.
Another villager tries, then another. All of them share the same uncanny connection.
From the crows, they learn a simple truth: their master left a night ago with other demons, and no one knows when he will return.
With the cliff empty of command, Chen Qi makes his decision.
He sets the villagers to cutting trees and raising huts along the slope, a small line of wooden houses clinging to the rock face.
Once finished, he dismisses them back to the village. Only he remains, silent and steady, to guard the prisoners.
Two dawns later, the mist lies thick on the river when the stillness breaks.
Bai Huli arrives with the stride of command, her den behind her, scales flashing, eyes bright.
They join the other demons already stationed near the rift, swelling the guard around it.
Kaelan perches above them, wings folded, eyes gleaming cold. He drops down, and together the six gather to speak.
They weigh the rift in silence. The humans have gone in. No one knows how strong they are, nor what they seek. To charge inside would be madness.
So they agree on patience.
The humans must return—no camp can hold food for a lifetime, no martial artist can cut ties with family forever.
They will wait.
And wait they do, until the rift itself shudders.
A day later, with night still heavy on the trees and only the faintest grey touching the horizon, screams split the silence. Humans burst from the rift in a frenzy, blades flashing, qi burning wild, and throw themselves at the demons surrounding the camp.
Bai Huli and her allies surge forward to meet them, claws, tails, and steel colliding with flesh.
The weaker humans fall quickly, blood soaking the dirt, but before the demons can finish the slaughter, figures of equal might step into the fray, halting their charge.
Then the air changes.
From the rift steps a man alone.
His robes stir though no wind blows, and his presence presses down heavier than the dawn.
He rises into the air, calm as a blade unsheathed, and his gaze lifts.
Above the battlefield, Kaelan waits within the shroud of clouds.
Their eyes meet.
Neither moves, yet both understand.
This fight rests on them.
If Kaelan triumphs, the demons will claim the ruin and the spoils within.
But if the man prevails, then the humans will tear free of this trap and carry their treasure back across the border.
The war beneath becomes only noise. The true battle is about to begin.