Chapter 152: Going to the Jungles

Dropping from the thick, moss-draped branches like twin coils of living, emerald-green lightning were Shé Yì and Shé Èr.

They were in their half-beast forms, their skin dusted with shimmering, venomous scales, their slit-pupils glowing in the dim light.

“Going somewhere…?” Shé Yì hissed softly, landing silently in front of the assassin, completely blocking the path to the river.

“Without saying goodbye…?” Shé Èr finished seamlessly, dropping directly behind the assassin, sealing off any hope of retreat.

The assassin drew his bone dagger with a trembling hand. “Get out of my way, you scaled freaks! You have no idea whose wrath you are bringing upon this pathetic village!”

Shé Yì tilted his head, a slow, incredibly creepy smile spreading across his face, revealing his elongated, venom-dripping fangs.

“We love wrath,” Shé Yì whispered.

“It tastes like mama’s food,” Shé Èr added cheerfully.

Before the assassin could even swing his dagger, the twins moved in a synchronized movement. Shé Yì’s tail whipped out, wrapping around the jaguar’s ankles and yanking his feet out from under him. As the man fell, Shé Èr’s hand shot forward, gripping the assassin by the throat with bone-crushing force, pinning him violently to the earth.

“No biting,” Shé Yì reminded his brother, leaning down to inspect their captive. “Auntie Bai Yue gets very angry when we leave teeth marks on the guests.”

“Fine,” Shé Èr pouted, his forked tongue flicking out to taste the air. “We will just squeeze him a little.”

~

Ten minutes later, the center of the Thousand Fang Tribe had been transformed from a peaceful family gathering into an impromptu interrogation cell.

The scarred leader was bound tightly to a thick wooden post near the central fire pit, using incredibly strong vines that the snake twins had expertly knotted.

His daggers had been confiscated, his poisons neutralized by Yàn Shū, and he was currently bleeding from a split lip.

The cubs had been ushered far away to the safety of Bai Yue’s hut, supervised by an extremely stressed Hóng Yè, who was currently bribing them with dried honey-fruits to keep them from looking out the window.

However, Tao Zi had flatly refused to leave.

The five-year-old jaguar cub stood slightly behind Bai Yue’s leg, his small fingers gripping the hem of her woven skirt. He stared at the captive assassin with a mixture of terror and a desperate, burning need for answers.

Mo Xiao stepped forward. He cracked his knuckles, the sound echoing loudly in the quiet clearing.

“I am going to ask you a series of questions,” Mo Xiao rumbled, leaning down until he was inches from the assassin’s face. “Every time you lie, or every time you remain silent, I am going to break a bone. We will start with your fingers, move to your toes, and then we will get creative. Do we have an understanding?”

The assassin spat a mouthful of blood onto Mo Xiao’s boots. “Rot in the abyss, lowlander. The Usurper King will march his armies over your charred corpses.”

Mo Xiao didn’t blink. He reached out, grabbed the assassin’s left index finger, and snapped it backward with a sharp, sickening CRACK.

“ARGHHH!” the assassin howled, thrashing against his bindings.

“Question one,” Mo Xiao continued smoothly, completely unbothered by the screaming. “Who sent you?”

“I… I will never—”

CRACK. “AAAGH! The King! The New King of the Jade Throne!” the assassin sobbed, his bravado entirely shattered by the agonizing pain in his left hand.

Zhāo Yàn crossed his arms, leaning casually against a nearby tree. “And why is this ’New King’ so obsessed with a five-year-old cub that he would send a suicide squad into the Northern Territories to fetch him?”

The assassin lifted his head, his chest heaving as he glared hatefully at the small boy hiding behind Bai Yue. A twisted, cruel smile broke through the blood on his lips.

“Because he is a loose end,” the assassin wheezed, his eyes locking onto Tao Zi. “The Usurper King took the throne five years ago. He purged the royal line. But he cannot open the Vault of the Ancients without the blood of the true heir! And until that vault is opened, the southern tribes will never fully bow to him!”

Tao Zi trembled. He stepped out from behind Bai Yue, his small fists clenched at his sides. “My……my mother,” the boy whispered, his voice cracking. “My father. Are they…”

The assassin’s smile widened, turning into a sadistic, ugly sneer. He leaned forward as much as his bindings would allow, his eyes gleaming with malicious delight.

He knew he was going to die today, but he was going to make sure he inflicted as much psychological damage as possible before he went.

“Dead?” the assassin laughed, a wet, hacking sound. “Oh, little prince. They didn’t just die. They begged.”

Tao Zi flinched as if he had been struck.

“Your father bled out on the throne room floor, choking on his own pride,” the assassin taunted, his voice dripping with venom. “And your mother? The beautiful Queen? She screamed for mercy when we cornered her in the nursery. She begged us to spare you. She offered us everything, weeping like a pathetic animal before we slit her throat.”

“Stop it!” Yàn Shū yelled, taking a step forward, his usually calm face twisted in horror.

“Everyone you know is dead, little prince!” the assassin cackled, spit flying from his lips. “Your parents! Your guards! Even that pathetic nursemaid who dragged you into the mud! You have no one! You are a ghost! A pathetic, sniveling little ghost, and your clan’s legacy will rot in the dirt with you!”

Tao Zi let out a broken, agonizing wail.

The little jaguar cub collapsed to his knees in the dirt, throwing his small hands over his ears as if trying to physically block out the horrific words. He curled into a tight, trembling ball, sobbing uncontrollably. The tough, edgy survivor persona was completely obliterated, leaving behind nothing but a five-year-old orphan whose entire world had just been violently shattered all over again.

“Make him stop…” Tao Zi sobbed. “Please, make him stop…”

Han Shān’s eyes blazed with a murderous fury. He summoned a jagged spike of solid ice in his palm, fully intending to drive it directly through the assassin’s skull to silence him permanently.

But Bai Yue moved faster.

She marched directly up to the bound assassin. She planted her feet firmly in the dirt, drew her right arm back, and swung with every single ounce of strength she possessed.

SLAP!

The sound was like a thunderclap.

The sheer force of Bai Yue’s slap whipped the massive assassin’s head violently to the side. A fresh spray of blood erupted from his lip as his jaw cracked sickeningly under the impact. His head lolled against his chest, his eyes rolling back in his skull, completely stunned by the physical power of a furious mother.

“You are done talking,” Bai Yue growled, her voice a deadly, icy whisper that made even Mo Xiao take a respectful step back.

She didn’t spare the assassin another glance. Bai Yue dropped to her knees in the dirt right beside Tao Zi. She gathered the sobbing, broken boy into her arms, pulling him tightly against her chest, rocking him back and forth.

“I’ve got you,” Bai Yue murmured fiercely, pressing her cheek against the top of his dark curls. “Don’t listen to him, Tao Zi. He’s lying to hurt you. You are not a ghost. You are right here. You are brave, and you are loved, and you are never, ever going to be alone again. Do you hear me? You are mine now.”

Tao Zi clung to her, his tiny fingers digging desperately into her tunic as he wept into her shoulder.

Zhāo Yàn watched the scene, his jaw clenched tight. He looked back at the stunned assassin, his crimson eyes narrowing dangerously. “Wake him up,” the Fox Lord hissed to Mo Xiao. “He knows more.”

Mo Xiao grabbed a bucket of freezing river water and unceremoniously dumped it directly over the assassin’s head.

The jaguar gasped, sputtering and coughing as consciousness violently returned to him. He looked up at the three towering Alphas, a genuine flicker of fear finally breaking through his fanatical devotion.

“What else?” Han Shān demanded, pressing the jagged tip of his ice-blade directly against the assassin’s throat, drawing a thin line of blood. “Speak, or I will freeze your blood in your veins.”

The assassin coughed, a manic, broken laugh escaping his ruined lips. He looked at Tao Zi, then at the furious husbands surrounding him.

“You think… you think you’ve won?” the assassin wheezed, blood dripping down his chin. “You think you can protect him forever in this pathetic mud-pit?”

He tilted his head back, laughing through his broken teeth.

“The Usurper King already sits upon the Jade Throne! He has amassed an army of thousands! And he knows the boy still lives. The blood magic of the ancestral seal is weakening.”

The assassin’s eyes gleamed with a fanatic, desperate triumph. “Once the Blood Moon rises next week, the King will not wait for the heir! He is marching on the Sunken Temple as we speak! He is bringing the realm’s darkest sorcerers to break the seal by force! He will rip the Heart of the Jade from the Ancestral Vault, and once he has it, he will be invincible! You cannot stop him! You are too late!”

With a final, gargling laugh, the assassin slumped forward in his bindings, passing out completely from the pain and blood loss.

The clearing descended into a heavy, suffocating silence, broken only by Tao Zi’s muffled sniffles against Bai Yue’s shoulder.

“The Heart of the Jade,” Yàn Shū whispered, his amber eyes wide with horror. “Hmm… if a Usurper King acquires an ancient clan artifact of that magnitude, he won’t just rule the southern jungles. He will have the power to wage war on the entire continent. He could challenge the Dragon Peaks.”

Han Shān lowered his ice-blade, exchanging a dark, serious look with Mo Xiao and Zhāo Yàn.

A rogue army marching on a temple. A ticking clock. An ancient artifact that could plunge the entire beast world into chaos.

Bai Yue slowly pulled back from Tao Zi. She gently wiped the tears from the boy’s muddy cheeks with her thumbs, her expression hardening into unwavering resolve. She stood up, dusting off her knees, and turned to face her three immensely powerful, wildly overprotective husbands.

“Well,” Bai Yue said, her voice ringing out clearly in the quiet village. She crossed her arms, a fierce, determined smirk spreading across her lips.

“Pack your bags, boys. We’re going to the southern jungles.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep