The training ground behind the Marshal's temporary base was quiet in the early dawn.
Mist curled low over the grass.
The first rays of sun barely kissed the horizon.
Most of the soldiers were still sleeping.
But Xiao Lin was already there.
Sweat dripped down his forehead as he struggled to master the basic techniques Sheng Long had assigned him.
Balance.
Focus.
Speed over strength.
He panted, muscles aching, but he kept going.
In the past few weeks, Xiao Lin had learned the hard truth:
He would never match Sheng Long's raw power.
But agility?
Cleverness?
Those could be his weapons.
Again, he told himself, gritting his teeth.
He shifted into his half-fox form — ears twitching, claws gleaming faintly — and launched himself into a series of dodges and rolls around imaginary opponents.
He stumbled once.
Twice.
But every time, he got back up.
Hidden nearby, cloaked by shadows, another pair of eyes watched him.
Predatory.
Calculating.
The assassin moved silently, blending into the mist.
Dressed in unmarked black armor, with a hood drawn low, the figure was almost invisible.
Their orders were simple: Capture the silver fox.
Alive.
Preferably unharmed.
The reward promised by the palace was too tempting to refuse.
The assassin waited, patient as a snake.
When Xiao Lin paused to catch his breath, wiping his forehead, the shadow struck.
A throwing net snapped through the air, glinting with thin chains designed to neutralize mental power.
Xiao Lin sensed the threat a second too late.
The net tangled around his legs, dragging him hard to the ground.
Panic surged.
But so did instinct.
Without thinking, Xiao Lin slashed at the net with his sharp fox-claws, managing to rip a hole just wide enough to scramble free.
The assassin cursed under their breath and lunged, a thin blade flashing at Xiao Lin's throat.
Xiao Lin ducked, heart pounding so loud he barely heard anything else.
Run.
Every lesson Sheng Long and Yan Shuo had drilled into him screamed in his mind.
You're not strong enough yet. So use your speed.
He bolted toward the barracks, weaving wildly to make himself harder to hit.
Another net flew after him — he twisted, stumbled, nearly fell — but kept going.
The forest blurred around him.
Branches clawed at his hair and skin.
He heard footsteps gaining behind him — too fast.
The assassin was stronger.
But Xiao Lin had hope.
The scent of black fire and iron filled his nose.
Sheng Long.
The moment he broke into the clearing near camp, he screamed, "Marshal!"
In an instant, black scales shimmered into view as Sheng Long's dragon aura exploded outward.
The assassin skidded to a halt, cursed again, and vanished into the trees — retreating without hesitation.
Sheng Long appeared at Xiao Lin's side almost before Xiao Lin stopped running.
"You're hurt," the Marshal growled, hands rough but careful as he checked him over.
Xiao Lin shook his head quickly, panting.
"No — just— just scared—"
Sheng Long pressed a firm hand to his shoulder, grounding him.
Yan Shuo and several soldiers rushed up moments later, weapons drawn and faces tense.
"Intruder?" Yan Shuo barked.
"Assassin," Sheng Long said darkly.
"Sent to capture, not kill."
The soldiers stiffened.
That single detail changed everything.
If the assassin had been sent to kill, it would have been cleaner.
But to capture?
It meant someone wanted Xiao Lin alive for a reason.
"Someone knows he's important," Sheng Long muttered.
Yan Shuo frowned deeply.
"Could it be...?"
"The palace," Sheng Long said grimly.
"Or worse — the Zerg's puppets in the royal family."
Xiao Lin stared at him, wide-eyed, still trembling slightly from adrenaline.
Sheng Long looked down at him, jaw tightening.
He's not ready for this.
But they won't wait until he is.
The Marshal made a swift decision.
"There's a festival coming up in the capital," he said, turning back to Yan Shuo.
"The royal family will gather there. So will the high nobles."
Yan Shuo nodded slowly, understanding sparking in his eyes.
"You want to go?"
Sheng Long's mouth twisted into something between a smile and a snarl.
"I want to see which snake bites first."
He glanced back at Xiao Lin, who was still clinging stubbornly to his sleeve, refusing to let go even after the danger had passed.
"And I want to keep our fox close," he added, voice low.
Yan Shuo gave a sharp, grim grin.
"Understood, Marshal."
As the soldiers dispersed to tighten security, Sheng Long knelt in front of Xiao Lin.
"You did well today," he said quietly.
Xiao Lin looked at him, startled.
"But I— I ran away—"
"And lived," Sheng Long said simply.
"That's the only thing that matters right now."
Xiao Lin swallowed hard.
He nodded.
And for the first time, he felt — not just hope — but a flicker of pride.