Dawn light spilled over the training ground, soft and warm—but Tan Kai's brow was slick with sweat.
He stood alone by the lotus pool, eyes closed, muttering the Lotus Chant under his breath. His hands trembled slightly, trying to channel the golden lotus's energy. A faint glimmer flickered at his fingertips—then sputtered out, like a candle snuffed by wind.
"Oof!" He stumbled back, nearly tripping over a stone.
Bright's laugh echoed from across the yard. "Hey, Tan Kai! You're not casting a spell—you're trying to light a firefly on fire!" He tried to strike a cool pose, one leg lifted like he was showing off his stance—then lost his balance, crashing into Nam's shoulder. "Whoa—okay, that was a fluke!"
Nam pushed him off, snickering. "Fluke my foot! You trip over air! And quit distracting Tan Kai—if he doesn't nail this, we'll be stuck eating cold mango rice for dinner. I'm not burning it again just 'cause you two can't focus!"
Tan Kai huffed, wiping sweat from his forehead. "It's harder than it looks! The energy keeps slipping away."
Yara stood a few feet away, her practice staff resting against her shoulder. She'd been watching him—how his jaw tightened when he focused, how his eyes lit up when the light flickered, how he never gave up even when he stumbled. Her heart fluttered, just like it had yesterday.
She walked over, holding out a water skin. "Here. Take a break. You've been at it since dawn."
Tan Kai looked up, and his face broke into a bright smile. "Thanks, Yara." He took the water skin, his fingers brushing hers for a second. Yara's cheeks warmed, and she quickly looked away, pretending to adjust her sleeve.
"See? Yara's nicer to you than we are," Bright called, now sitting on the ground and rubbing his elbow. "She's probably hoping you'll share the spell so I stop tripping over myself!"
Nam tossed a mango pit at him. "Shut up! You're gonna make her hide in the cave!"
Yara's face got hotter. She turned back to her stance practice, but her eyes kept drifting to Tan Kai—who was now taking a deep breath, closing his eyes again.
Master Tai Chu sat on the stone steps nearby, munching on a mango. He'd been quiet, only occasionally calling out, "Calm your breath, Tan Kai! Energy follows focus, not haste!" But his eyes were sharp, tracking the faint golden glow at Tan Kai's fingers. Every so often, he'd flick a thumb against his palm—so subtle, no one noticed—and the air around the training ground would hum, just for a second.
Then—suddenly—Tan Kai's fingers lit up.
Not a faint flicker. A steady, soft gold light, hovering above his fingertips. He gasped, opening his eyes, and the light stayed. "I did it! Guys, look!"
Bright and Nam ran over, jaws dropped. "Whoa! That's the lotus energy?" Bright reached out, then yelped and pulled back. "Whoa, it's warm! Like holding a sun-warmed mango!"
Nam leaned in, eyes wide. "That's so cool! Way better than Bright's 'I can stand on one leg for ten seconds' flop."
Yara smiled, her heart light. He did it.
Master Tai Chu stood up, wiping mango juice from his chin. For a second, he looked proud—then his smile vanished. He turned toward the Ironwood Forest, his brow furrowing.
A faint, high-pitched hiss cut through the air.
Everyone froze.
It came from the cave entrance—from the thick wall of vines that hid the opening. The vines, usually deep green and still, were now shimmering. A sickly silver-green light seeped through their leaves, and the air smelled sharp—like hot metal, burning.
"What's that smell?" Bright wrinkled his nose.
Master Tai Chu's voice was serious, no trace of his usual playfulness. "The Moon-Eye Mirror. It's piercing the barrier." He took a step toward the entrance, and the hissing grew louder—like the vines were being seared from the other side. "They'll be here in two hours, at most."
The training ground went cold. Bright's grin vanished. Nam's eyes widened. Tan Kai clenched his fist, the golden light flickering brighter. "Master, I can use the chant now. I can help."
Master Tai Chu nodded, but his gaze was fixed on the glowing vines. "Good. But first—we need to prepare."
Meanwhile, at the edge of the Ironwood Forest, Tong's knuckles were white around the Moon-Eye Mirror.
The mirror's surface blazed with silver-green light, a thin beam shooting forward—straight toward the heart of the forest. Where the beam struck, the air rippled, and Tong could hear that same faint hiss, carried on the wind.
Erlang Shen stood beside him, his posture rigid. For a split second, a faint gold glow flickered between his brows—his third eye, barely visible, but enough to send a shiver through the nearby underbrush. Even the birds stopped chirping, as if sensing something divine.
Ne Zha leaned against a tree, his fire-tipped spear resting at his feet—but the tip of the spear had ignited, a tiny flame dancing at its point, reflecting the mirror's light. His red armor glinted, and for a moment, it looked like flames were licking the edges of the metal—divine fire, hot enough to singe the air.
"The mirror's working," Tong said, voice tight with excitement. "That's his barrier. It's breaking."
The Moon-Eye Mirror's beam struck the invisible barrier with a crackle—not the sound of something shattering, but something fighting back.
Erlang Shen narrowed his eyes, the glow between his brows brightening. "A Verdant Nagalotus Ward… Tai Chu didn't just hide himself. He summoned a guardian will." He tilted his head, like he could see through the trees to the vines beyond. "Scales, coiled beneath the roots. Clever old man."
Ne Zha's spear tilted slightly, the flame flaring. Interest sparked in his eyes—sharp, divine, like a god eyeing a worthy toy. "So the old man knows Naga warding arts? Didn't expect that. This might be fun, after all."
Tong frowned. He didn't care about wards or Naga arts—he just wanted the lotus. "Fun or not, the mirror's cutting through it. Let's move."
HisStrategist stepped closer, voice low. "Boss, feel that? Their energy—it's not just soldier stuff. It's… bigger. Like standing next to a storm."
Tong patted his shoulder, a smirk on his face. "I know. But storms blow over. We'll grab the lotus before the storm hits." He started walking toward the beam, the mirror held high. "Lead the way, Immortal Elders."
Erlang Shen and Ne Zha exchanged a look—Erlang Shen's eyes sharp, Ne Zha's grin lazy but dangerous. They followed, but kept pace with each other, their divine auras pressing down on the forest like a weight.
No one trusted anyone. But the beam was clear, the target close. And all three wanted the same thing—Tai Chu, and the golden lotus.
Back at the cave, the mood was tight.
Master Tai Chu stood at the entrance, his blue robe fluttering in the wind. The vines were now glowing bright green, the silver-green light of the mirror searing through their leaves. The hissing was louder, and small wisps of smoke curled from the vine tips—like they were being cooked from the inside out. The air reeked of hot metal, thick and cloying.
"Yara," Master Tai Chu said, turning to her. "Take Bright and Nam to the back of the cave. There's a box of talismans under the stone shelf—bring them here. And stay hidden until I call for you. No heroics."
Yara nodded, but her eyes drifted to Tan Kai. "What about Tan Kai?"
"He's with me," Master Tai Chu said. "His lotus energy can slow down Tong's men. Buy us time."
Tan Kai stood tall, gripping his practice staff. The golden light still flickered at his fingertips, brighter now—like it was reacting to the danger. "I'm ready, Master."
Yara took a step forward, her hand brushing Tan Kai's wrist—just for a second, warm and tight. "Be careful," she whispered. Her cheeks were red, but her eyes were steady, no trace of shyness now—only worry.
Tan Kai looked at her, and his heart skipped a beat. He smiled, soft and sure. "I will. Promise. And when this is over, we'll have mango sticky rice—Nam's special, no burnt bits. I'll even help her cook it."
Nam huffed, but there was no bite in it. "Hurry back, then. I'm not cooking alone."
Bright nodded, his usual grin gone but his chin up. "Yeah! And if Tong shows up—kick him in the shins for me! Hard!"
Yara squeezed Tan Kai's wrist once, then turned, grabbing Bright and Nam by the arms. "Come on. Let's go get those talismans."
They disappeared into the cave, their footsteps fading.
Master Tai Chu turned to Tan Kai, his expression serious. He pulled a small, dark bag from his sleeve—nothing like the cloth bag he used for mangoes. Inside, Tan Kai could see the glint of thin, golden needles.
"These are lotus needles," Master Tai Chu said, handing them over. The metal was warm, thrumming with faint energy. "Channel your lotus light into them. Throw them at Tong's men—they'll stick to their clothes, weigh them down, slow them. Your chant's not strong enough to hurt yet, but it's enough to delay."
Tan Kai took the needles, his fingers wrapping around them. The golden light from his fingertips seeped into the metal, making them glow faintly. "Master, who is Tong's master? You said you couldn't tell before."
Master Tai Chu's jaw tightened. "Nagasith Varamon. The Serpent King. That mirror's tied to his bloodline—why it cuts through the ward so easy." He paused, then clapped Tan Kai's shoulder. "But don't worry about him. Focus on Tong's men. Let me handle the king."
A loud crack echoed from the vines.
The green glow flickered—then dimmed. The hissing stopped, replaced by the sound of vines splitting, snapping apart.
Master Tai Chu's eyes narrowed. "They're here."
Tan Kai tensed, gripping the needles in one hand and his staff in the other. The golden light blazed at his fingertips, bright enough to cast small shadows.
From outside, a loud voice echoed through the trees—Tong's voice, triumphant. "Tai Chu! Come out! Your little ward's broken! We know you're in there!"
Master Tai Chu took a deep breath, then turned to Tan Kai. His eyes were calm, steady, like he'd done this a hundred times. "Remember—calm your breath. Energy follows focus. And if things get too rough… run. I'll find you."
Tan Kai shook his head. "I'm not running. I'm staying with you, Master."
Master Tai Chu smiled, a small, proud smile. "Good boy."
He stepped toward the entrance, his hands resting at his sides—but Tan Kai saw it: his fingers tracing a quick, intricate pattern in the air. A faint gold glow wrapped around his wrists, gone as soon as it appeared.
Footsteps crunched outside—closer, louder. Ne Zha's laugh echoed, sharp and mocking, like a blade. "Tai Chu! Are you scared? Hiding like a rat in a hole?"
Master Tai Chu took one last look at Tan Kai, then called out, his voice loud and clear: "I'm right here. Come and get me."
The remaining vines split open, falling away like torn cloth.
And there, standing in the clearing, were Tong, his men, Erlang Shen, and Ne Zha. Tong held the Moon-Eye Mirror high, its silver-green beam now pointing straight at them. Erlang Shen's third eye glowed faintly between his brows, and Ne Zha's spear blazed with fire—divine, unforgiving.
Tan Kai gripped his staff, the golden light at his fingertips burning bright.
This was it.
The fight was here.