The pill gleamed like a promise of new worlds, and in its sheen, Garth saw every sneer his people had suffered, every allotment where spirit stones were weighed and found “too precious” for hybrids.
Rage fused with longing, crystallizing into a single, irrevocable decision. With a snarl, he thrust out a taloned hand, snatched the Enlightenment Pill, and swallowed it dry—no ceremony, no hesitation.
Cold fire knifed through his skull, clearing cobwebs even as it awakened a deeper, more feral surge that beat against his temples like war drums.
“Good…” he growled, each syllable a flint strike. “I am in…” His tail lashed, sending sparks skittering. “Tell me how you intend to arm us.”
Knowing the plan was close to success, the black-robed men were delighted. “We will deliver a cache of high-impact demon talismans and single-use self-detonation weapons, perfect for plunging the sect into chaos and removing key elders in one stroke…”
“Simultaneously, our forces will spark skirmishes along the outer ranges, drawing patrol squads away. The timing rests with you, Mr. Thornscale, but strike soon. The longer we wait, the more likely things might go wrong.”
***
Several tense days later, inside the ruined core of the Myriad Beast Sect, Paxton convened an emergency council in the hall. Around him sat Bartram, Gavin, Yvette, among others.
Every torch burned low, as though the unrest that had ravaged their mountain had stolen even the fire’s confidence.
“Sir Chance has been gone for days,” Paxton said, voice low yet heavy enough to press on every rib in the room. “I can only wonder what trouble he walked into at the Mystic Sky Sword Sect.”
A flicker of worry crept across his eyes before he forced his shoulders broad again.
Gavin thumped a paw-shaped fist against his chest plate. “Sir Chance is powerful. Trust me. He will return without a scratch, and probably carrying the heads of anyone foolish enough to block his path.”
Yvette traced a nervous circle on the lacquered table.
“I wish I shared your certainty,” she murmured. “My heart keeps fluttering like a trapped bird, warning something terrible is about to break loose.”
A sudden roar outside drowned the hall; steel clanged, beasts shrieked, and panicked shouts collided in a rising storm.
“What is happening?” Paxton barked, his chair scraping backward.
Before the word was finished, he cast his awareness outward. The hall trembled beneath the surge of his lion-borne spirit sense.
At the perimeter of the inner compound, columns of fire speared skyward. Smoke rolled like black surf, blotting out midday light.
An endless tide of Melded Beastkin warriors, each body half-melded with a different beast, charged behind strangers clad in demonic robes. They slammed into the pure-blood guards stationed to defend the sanctum.
The attackers’ eyes burned red, madness twisting every movement. They swung claws and blades without mercy, uncaring when their strikes felled former brothers.
Dark talismans and cursed weapons—gifts from the Infinite Soul Demon Sect—flashed through the smoke, turning the guarded courtyards into slaughterhouses before any defense could form.
“Enemy assault! The Melded Beastkin have turned on us!” an elder cried, voice cracking beneath fury and disbelief.
“What?” Paxton, Bartram, and the rest rose as one, shock igniting into raw anger.
None of them had expected the rot festering in their ranks to erupt at the very moment they struggled to rebuild.
Bartram’s growl rattled windows. “Garth! How dare that mutt betray the sect!”
He burst from the hall, fur rippling into a thirty-meter mountain of sinew and claws. The ground split when his paw struck, pulping the first wave of traitors into crimson mist. Yet more Melded Beastkin warriors poured in like floodwater. Many were seasoned killers whose power rivaled his own.
At the heart of the chaos stood Garth, now swollen with the black vapor of the Enlightenment Pill. Blood-red energy coiled around the massive bone blade in his grip as he stalked straight for Bartram.
“Garth! The Sect raised you, sheltered you—why spit on that kindness?” Bartram thundered, the force of his voice toppling burning rafters nearby.
“Kindness?” Garth’s laugh scraped like rusted chains. “You threw us scraps and called it generosity. Today, the Melded Beastkin reclaims what is ours, starting with your heads! Kill!”
The two giants collided, claws and bone steel clanging so fiercely the courtyard tiles exploded into dust.
Hidden assassins from the Infinite Soul Demon Sect slipped through the firelight, striking Bartram’s blind spots until even the indomitable bear staggered, driven back step by bloody step.
