Night wrapped around the mountains like a thick, cold cloak. The path was narrow, rocks cutting into their shoes, and the only light came from Tan Kai's faintly glowing jade—soft to avoid tripping, dim to hide from prying eyes.
Bright stumbled, catching himself on a tree. "Ugh—remind me to never trust Tong's 'easy shortcut' again," he grumbled, brushing dirt off his knees. "My feet hurt, I'm starving. No mangoes, no berries—just rocks and dark. Great."
Nam tossed him a dried herb. "Chew this for energy. Quit complaining—we're lucky Tong knows this path."
Tong glanced back, Lila's hand tight in his. "Not far now," he said steadily. "The cave's behind a waterfall—Heaven's soldiers won't find it."
Lila nodded, teeth chattering as she hugged herself. "Grandma said the waterfall hides it from evil," she whispered. "Said mountain spirits guard it."
Yara slowed, draping her thin extra cloak over Lila's shoulders. "Spirits or not, we're safe there," she smiled softly. "I promise."
Lila relaxed a little. "Thanks," she mumbled, pulling the cloak tighter.
Tan Kai's hand brushed the silver token in his pocket—warm since they left the valley, now pulsing hot enough to flinch. "Guys," he said, stopping. "The token's getting hotter. Like something's coming closer."
Everyone froze. Yara touched the jade, which brightened, casting green-gold light over the rocks.
"Heaven's soldiers?" Nam whispered, fingers hovering over her fire herbs.
Tong pulled Lila behind a boulder, pressing a finger to his lips. "Quiet. Listen."
Wind whistled through trees, carrying distant water. Then—a faint metallic clink, far off.
"Not close yet," Tong sighed, relieved. "But move faster."
They hurried on, waterfall roar growing louder. Soon mist hit their faces; through darkness, they saw it: water cascading down, hiding a dark opening.
Tong stepped into the fall. "Follow—stay close to the rock, current's weak here."
One by one, they squeezed behind the water. The cave mouth was narrow, but inside it opened to a wide chamber. The jade's light revealed walls covered in old carvings: lotuses, snakes, figures holding a glowing stone. Damp earth smelled of faint old lotus.
"Whoa," Bright breathed, touching a carving of Agus and Lina. "Like the stories. Shame no mango carvings—would've felt nicer."
Nam knelt, touching the stone gently. "Older than Lila's grandma. This wasn't just a hideout—it was Agus and Lina's too."
Lila stepped forward, eyes wide. "Grandma said these are valley guardians—they locked up corruption."
Tan Kai held up the jade; faint golden lotus light flickered at his fingertips—Master's "Lotus Call," letting the jade resonate with his inner power. The carvings seemed to glow. "Master said the jade balances light and venom," he murmured. "Maybe these are clues—what we do next."
Yara nodded, tracing a jade carving. "Heaven wants me and Nagasith. Corruption's locked, not gone. We can't hide forever."
Bright plopped on a smooth rock. "Can we rest five minutes? My feet are killing me. And if I smell mango, I'm ditching hiding to grab it." He sniffed. "My nose's a fruit detector—edible within a mile, I'll find it."
Nam rolled her eyes but sat beside him. "Fine—rest an hour, then plan. Tong, Lila—back corner's dry."
Tong led Lila there; she leaned on his shoulder, closing her eyes—tired, but no longer shaking.
Tan Kai and Yara stood at the cave mouth, peering through the fall. Night was dark, no silver light, but the token still pulsed faintly.
"He's right—we need rest," Yara said. "But I'm scared. What if soldiers come?"
Tan Kai squeezed her hand, jade warm between them. "Then we fight. Together. Like before." He smiled. "If all else fails, let Bright distract them with mango rants. Works every time."
Yara laughed softly, cutting the quiet. "Yeah. That'll work."
They sat, shoulders touching. The jade dimmed to steady warmth. For a minute, no Heaven, no corruption—just waterfall sound and quiet breaths.
Then the token pulsed—sharp, hot.
Tan Kai jumped, grabbing it. Silver light seeped through his fingers.
"What's wrong?" Yara asked, sitting up.
Before he could answer, a crash echoed outside. Something heavy hit the ground—then a low growl.
Bright jumped up, grabbing his stick. "Whoa—bear? Tiger? Please no tentacle monster. Or worse: no mangoes and a monster."
"Keep Lila back!" Nam said, holding fire herbs.
Tong pulled Lila behind him, grabbing a rock. "Stay close."
Tan Kai and Yara moved to the mouth, jade in hand. Token light revealed a mountain cat—big, matted fur—staring behind it, snarling, ears flat. Then it bolted into trees.
The token flared. "Someone's here," Tan Kai whispered.
"Heaven's soldiers?" Yara's hand tightened on his.
A figure stepped into moonlight beyond the fall—too small, too slow, stumbling and coughing. Tan Kai squinted. That coat. That messy hair.
A vision hit him: Agus kneeling under the lotus tree, burying jade, smiling at Lina. His breath caught—Agus was a story, a ghost in carvings, not here. "Agus?" he breathed, voice shaky.
The figure froze, turning. Its face was shadowed, but its voice was rough, warm—like the vision. "Tan Kai? Yara? Is that you?"
"Agus? The stories Agus?" Bright said, confused. "I thought he was dead! Way more exciting than mangoes… kinda."
"It could be a trick," Nam frowned. "Heaven's soldiers shape-shift, right?"
The figure stepped into the mist. Jade light hit his face: scruffy beard, tired eyes, scarred cheek—just like carvings. Lila gasped: "Your brow bone—just like Tan Kai's!"
"I'm not a trick," Agus said, holding up hands. His gaze locked on Tan Kai, and he froze. "That mole on your brow…"
He stepped forward, then stopped, pulling a silver lotus hairpin from his coat—petals worn, one tip chipped. "This was Lina's. Your mother's. She said she'd tie your hair with it when you grew up."
Tan Kai's fingers brushed Agus's trembling hand as he took the pin. Half-memories flooded: warm arms, a lotus tune, something cool on his forehead. "You're…"
"Agus," he said, eyes glistening. "I left you with a valley family. Tried to seal corruption, got trapped five hundred years. Only the jade woke me."
"Lina was my mom?" Tan Kai whispered.
Agus nodded, voice cracking. "I'm sorry I made you wait."
Tan Kai curled his fingers around the pin. The token stopped burning, humming soft and steady.
Agus stepped fully into the cave, water dripping. "But no time—Heaven sent a judge. He can break the jade's seal. He's close."
Tan Kai's stomach dropped. This was the storm they'd feared.
"We leave now," Agus said. "Cave's not safe."
"Again?" Bright groaned. "Five minutes? One mango? I'd share!"
No one laughed. Token pulsed hotter, jade brightening. Wind picked up—faint horn sound, sharper, closer.
Agus grabbed Tan Kai's arm, gentle but tight. "Hurry. If he gets the jade, Lina and I fought for nothing."
Tan Kai looked at Yara, then his friends: Bright's worried face, Nam's steady gaze, Tong and Lila huddled. He gripped jade and pin. "Let's go."
They followed Agus to a narrow tunnel at the cave's back, deeper into the mountain. Waterfall sound faded, replaced by echoing steps.
Bright lingered, sniffing. "Wait—sweet smell? No, probably nothing." He hurried after them. "If that was mango, I'll never forgive myself."
The token pulsed in Tan Kai's pocket. As they vanished into tunnel darkness, the horn echoed—loud, clear, right outside.
The judge had arrived.