My mother stirred then, blinking wildly as she pushed herself up. As her head swung toward us, the color drained from her face. “Ping’er! What happened?”

I could not speak, raising my hate-filled glare to Wugang. He showed no remorse, gesturing impatiently to the guards who closed around us. Rage spiraled unbound, loosening something deep inside me as I grasped my magic—a gale surging from my palms, crashing into the nearest soldiers. More rushed forward, but my caution had disintegrated, violence burning unquenched within. I whipped my bow free, releasing a bolt of Sky-fire at Wugang—even as his shield flared between us, my arrow fracturing into shining shards.

Wugang thrust his hand out, streaks of blazing light lashing forth. I ducked low, his attack searing the emptiness above me, crackling with malevolent heat. As I swung back up, Wugang was already moving toward me, the shadow of the laurel falling over his face.

An idea struck. “Run, Shuxiao! Take them with you,” I called to her, slanting my head at the laurel.

She nodded once, spinning to my mother, who lay crouched over Ping’er. As Shuxiao pulled her away, casting a breeze to bear Ping’er along—I drew the cord of my bow, a bolt of Sky-fire blazing between my fingers. Wugang’s expression tensed as his shield shimmered brighter, bracing for my attack—yet I aimed at the laurel instead, letting the arrow fly.

White light hurtled into the tree, coiling around its trunk like glowing chains—scorching the pale bark, hissing with smoke … yet the marks were already fading, the golden sap spilling across the wood once more.

As Wugang’s lips stretched wide, my pulse quickened in anticipation. He thought he had the upper hand, that he alone knew nothing could destroy the laurel. He was mistaken; that was not our intent. As I bolted after the others, a sharp snap ruptured the stillness—the snare triggered. Waves of translucent fire cascaded down, showering those beneath in a torrent of agony. Celestials screamed, casting gleaming shields that arced over them—as Wugang raced to safety, his instinct for survival ever acute.

As I ran, the air stirred, pulsing with power. Streaks of flame and ice shot past, narrowly missing me. Breathing heavily, I grasped my energy to weave a shield—yet one glided over me, its powerful energy cool and familiar. Unwelcome, even as a small part of me was undeniably relieved.

Wenzhi stalked from the trees ahead, his black robes swirling, his eyes churning like the storm-lashed sea. With a flick of his wrist, spears of ice plunged toward my attackers. As they struck their mark, cries broke out behind me, some falling to the ground.