His head seemed to dip into a nod. So slight, it might have been a trick of my mind seeing what it wanted to, but I clung to this wild hope. I was shaking, fighting the urge to retch at the thought of what lay ahead—what success might cost me and the unspeakable price of failure. Breathing deeply, I fought for calm. A clear mind was the greatest weapon when one had relinquished all else.

Our cloud climbed north, toward the Golden Desert. I dared not probe for a trace of my father, Liwei, or Wenzhi. All my energy in this moment was centered on the feather borne within my body, keeping it whole—and me, alive. As screams and cries rang out from below, I glanced down, my insides turning to ice.

Chaos reigned. Wugang’s army had struck earlier than anticipated. The colliding forces were caught in the throes of battle, weapons gleaming as they clashed, currents of magic illuminating the night. I leaned over the edge of the cloud, my veins hardening to stone at the sight of the snarling monsters that prowled alongside Wugang’s army. An enormous boar with a mortal’s face charged into a troop of Cloud Wall warriors, skewering them upon its curved tusks. Blood sprayed into the air—a fine mist—amid the desperate screams and pleas. An eerie light shone from the boar’s eyes, its tusks glowing just as the soldiers’ guandao did, with the same malevolent power.

A shadow fell over me as a monstrous winged tiger swept down to sink its claws into an Eastern Sea soldier, flinging her high into the air. Her scream was swallowed by an ominous thud, yet the creature did not pause, already pouncing on another victim.

Taowu. Qiongqi. Legendary beasts, renowned for their vicious cruelty, having devoured countless mortals and immortals until they had been slain by the Celestial Army. And now, they were resurrected by Wugang to serve him, to reap devastation across the realms.

My nails cut into my palms. If only I could fight alongside our soldiers, if only I could have helped them. Yet it would not be enough. I could stop one monster, perhaps—a handful of soldiers … but thousands?

A flash of brightness streaked across the sky, gleaming with the gold of summer. The Yellow Dragon soared forth, its spiked tail lashing the air, churning it into a gale. Its force slammed into Qiongqi, the winged tiger’s claws unclenching—its victim plummeting through the skies with a scream—but the Black Dragon shot forward, catching the soldier upon its back. Further below, the crimson scales of the Long Dragon blazed as it cleared a path for the soldiers fleeing Taowu’s charge. As the dragon opened its great jaws, torrents of water crashed upon the boar, sending it rolling across the sands.