Kazel leaned back in the caravan, gazing at the faintly glowing blue nut resting in his palm. The light it emitted was calm, soothing—yet clearly powerful. Without a word, he closed his eyes and entered his soul space.
Inside, the familiar realm welcomed him. The Twin Shishi stood proud, radiating silent dominance. The Mustang Black Rabbit twitched its nose from atop a spectral boulder, while the Two-Tusk Boar snorted and pawed the ground. Frostfang, sleek and alert, watched from the side, its icy breath mingling in the ethereal air.
But something new was there.
A blue gust—vibrant and gentle—drifted through the soul space, the same hue as the nut. It flowed around the spirit beasts, and one by one, they inhaled it deeply. Calm spread across their features as they absorbed the essence.
"So that's how it works," Kazel murmured, eyes still closed. A grin crept onto his face before he returned to the real world.
"You are talented," said Ondira without turning her head, her tone level yet pointed.
Kazel smirked, basking in the rare praise. "How so?"
"Not just anyone can host a pair of Shishi," she replied. "Only the gifted… or the absurdly lucky."
"Maybe I'm both," he said with a shrug.
"Or neither," Ondira muttered, though a hint of amusement laced her words. "How old are you, Kazel?"
"Old enough," he said with a wink.
Ondira rolled her eyes. "You'd need at least a thousand years of experience to even dream of getting me."
"You misunderstand," Kazel said coolly. "You're not a thing to chase, catch, or discard. You're a strong woman I want to own. That's all."
Her jade eyes flicked to him, momentarily dilated—not with joy, but with sheer disbelief. No one had ever said something like that to her face. People feared her. Revered her. But not like this.
She crossed her arms, a low scowl escaping her lips. "You really don't know who I am, do you?"
"No," said Kazel. "But if you claimed you were a goddess, I'd just want to own you even more."
"You won't back down?" she asked, gaze narrowing. "A goddess has many suitors."
"Suitors are men waiting in line," Kazel said, eyes gleaming. "I don't wait in line—I lead them."
Ondira turned away, hiding her expression. Her thoughts, however, churned louder than ever.
(How old is he… or rather, how young? Those words… the tone… they don't belong to a boy. It feels like he speaks from experience. A dangerous kind of experience. Why do I feel… uneasy? Or is it… fear?)
No child had ever made her feel this way before.
The caravan rumbled to a halt.
"Looks like we're here." Ondira stepped out first.
Kazel followed her out, stretching a little as his boots touched the dry earth. Before him was a narrow, rugged path, snaking between two rocky ridges. It was no place for wheels or hooves. The caravan rolled away behind them, leaving only dust and silence.
"Isn't this a view," Kazel muttered, eyes tracing the trail that led into a mist-veiled valley. Ondira was already ahead, walking with purpose. With a shrug, he followed.
"We're standing at the precipice between the Land of the Lamb and the Land of the Wolf," Ondira said, her voice calm. "Which means… you might encounter some rather unusual spirit beasts."
"Never mind that," said Kazel, lacing his fingers behind his head like he was on a stroll. "How do you know Old Pao?"
"Hm? I've got a good reputation. He was there. That's all."
"Rrriiight," Kazel drawled, clearly unconvinced. "He rich?"
Ondira's lips curled faintly. "Very."
"How rich we talking?"
"I don't know the full extent," she said as they passed between two jagged stone outcrops and entered the hidden valley, "but I'm pretty sure neither the Land of the Lamb nor the Land of the Wolf could afford a single item from his main store's lowest floor... unless they robbed a few cities for spirit stones."
"Heh, gotta respect a man who loves his trade that much." Kazel smirked, then paused. A shadow moved across the path.
He glanced up. A vulture—massive, with dark purple-black feathers, hovered above. Its wings beat the air like drums, and it had a rooster's fleshy crown and three scaly legs.
"That's an unusual vulture," he muttered.
Then he saw another.
And another.
A flock began forming above them, circling like ghosts under a storm.
"They the ones you're hunting?" Kazel asked, cracking his neck.
"No," Ondira said casually. "But they always send a scout before an army. Looks like the army's arrived." She kept walking, her pace unchanged. "Mind your head."
"Huh?"
Before Kazel could look up again, her sun-kissed arm flicked slightly.
Four beams of light erupted from her fingertips with a soft hum, darting skyward like shooting stars. The vultures shrieked and scattered—only for the beams to twist in midair, curving unnaturally.
What followed was carnage.
The blasts split the sky, eviscerating the flock mid-flight. Feathers, blood, and cracked bones fell like slow rain. The few surviving vultures fled, screeching across the peaks.
Kazel stood a few feet behind Ondira—untouched, unstained, perfectly dry. Not a single drop of blood had landed on him.
He watched her walk on, her figure getting smaller with every step.
"Damn," he muttered, catching up again, "you could've warned me."
"I did," said Ondira without looking back. "You just need to learn to listen."
Kazel caught up to the deeper part of the hidden valley. The terrain narrowed into a natural basin flanked by jagged ridges and thick clusters of mist-hugged trees. The scent of damp earth mixed with an almost metallic tang—the smell of lingering beast blood, perhaps.
He stepped through the narrowing path and came upon a band of cultivators already assembled. Some were checking their gear, others talking in low voices, and a few sharpening weapons with practiced rhythm. Clearly, this hunt wasn't meant to be a solo endeavor between him and Ondira.
But what made Kazel pause wasn't the group.
It was who stood among them.
Saya.
She stood quietly on the far side, her back straight, her black ponytail swaying with the light breeze. Her sword was at her side as always, her presence reserved, eyes calm but alert—watching the group without inviting interaction. Just like the first time Kazel met her.
And beside her…
Kazel's eyes twitched ever so slightly.
Nobu.
He didn't look at the man long. He didn't need to.
Ondira had already taken her place near the center of the group, speaking to one of the coordinators.
Kazel moved beside her with an easy gait and spoke in a low voice, "Well, you didn't say we were joining a hunting club."
Ondira didn't look at him. "You'll find good beasts are rarely found in peace and silence."
Kazel snorted. "And here I thought this would be a nice walk in the woods."
His eyes drifted back toward Saya, who hadn't so much as blinked in his direction.
Someone in the gathering turned his head as Ondira stepped forward—his gaze sharp beneath a sweep of slick black hair. A slender man with the swagger of someone who thought too highly of himself. His eyes locked onto the plain white mask, and a knowing smirk curled his lips.
"Well, well… never thought I'd see you here."
"Same here," Ondira replied coolly, not turning her head.
"I see." His eyes slid to Kazel, sizing him up with dismissive amusement. "Nice porter you've got. Must've cost you a few crumbs."
Ondira crossed her arms, her tone dry. "Not even crumbs. He's free."
"Damn," the man chuckled. "What a bargain. Just hope he doesn't keel over before we hit the deeper part."
Kazel, who hadn't even spared the man a glance, suddenly let out a loud, unapologetic fart.
The man's eyes widened. Ondira tilted her head toward Kazel, expression unreadable behind her mask.
"Sorry," Kazel said casually, stretching his arms behind his back. "I was eating noodles in a rush earlier. And… well, you were talking crap, so I figured I'd reply in kind."
The silence that followed was so clean you could hear the birds flapping overhead.
Ondira exhaled—half sigh, half stifled laugh—as she looked away.
The man blinked, caught between disbelief and mild offense.
Kazel grinned at him, then patted his stomach. "That's just the appetizer."