Chapter 154: Headcount

From the dense, dark foliage of the canopy directly below them, a massive, glowing purple tether shot upward like a harpoon. It wasn’t an arrow. It was a chain forged of pure, crackling dark magic.

Before Zhāo Yàn could evade, the chain slammed directly into the underbelly of the spirit-fox.

BOOOOOOM!

The impact was deafening. The dark magic violently reacted with Zhāo Yàn’s illusionary energy. A shockwave of purple and red light exploded in mid-air.

The spirit-fox shattered like fragile glass.

The plush cushions, the glowing barriers, the floor beneath their feet, it all vanished instantly, disintegrating into thousands of useless red sparkles.

Gravity reasserted its brutal dominance.

“MAMA!” Zhēn screamed, jolting awake as the ground suddenly dropped out from underneath her.

“ZHĒN! TAO ZI!” Bai Yue shrieked, her stomach plummeting into her throat as she tumbled backward into the open air.

“I’ve got them!” Hóng Yè yelled. The seventeen-year-old red panda dove through the chaos, his lean body cutting through the air. His hand closed around the back of Zhēn’s tunic first, yanking her against his chest. His other arm hooked around Tao Zi’s waist, dragging the stunned jaguar cub with them.

Three bodies tumbled through the air together, a tangle of limbs and fabric and sheer, desperate survival.

“HOLD ON TO ME!” Hóng Yè roared.

Zhēn’s small arms locked around his neck. Tao Zi’s claws dug into his sleeve.

Across the sky, the others scattered like leaves in a storm.

Glimmer reacted fastest. The young dragon’s green scales flared as she transformed mid-air, her body expanding from her small traveling form to something larger, something with wings. She caught Yòu Lín by the scruff of his tunic, her claws closing around the fox kit just as he was about to disappear into the canopy.

“I’ve got you!” Glimmer shrieked, her voice high with terror. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you, don’t wiggle!”

“I’M NOT WIGGLING!” Yòu Lín yelled back, definitely wiggling. “THAT’S THE WIND!”

Mo Xiao had shifted into his panther form mid-fall, his black fur blending into the shadows of the jungle below. His massive paws caught a thick branch, claws digging into the bark, and he swung, once, twice, before landing on a lower limb with a grunt.

“Ruì Xuě!” he roared, scanning the chaos. “Where’s Ruì Xuě?!”

Han Shān’s blood ran cold.

His son was gone. Not in his arms, not in his sight line, not anywhere.

The Snow Leopard Alpha twisted in the air, his icy blue eyes scanning the falling debris, the scattering figures, the endless green below. Nothing. He saw nothing.

No.

He forced himself to focus. He couldn’t save Ruì Xuě if he died on impact. His hands came together, ice crystallizing around his palms, spreading down his arms, his chest, his legs.

“EVERYONE—BRACE!”

He slammed his palms together and pulled.

Ice erupted from his body in a massive wave, not a weapon but a bridge, a frozen slide curving down toward the jungle floor, angling away from the sharpest rocks, the thickest trees, the worst of the impact zones.

Bai Yue hit the ice first, sliding hard, her arms wrapped around her head. Yàn Shū tumbled after her, his glasses flying off into the void. Zhāo Yàn landed in a crouch, his nine tails fanning out to balance him, his face pale with exertion.

Han Shān came down last, his ice cracking beneath him.

Snap.

Crack.

Shatter.

The ice slide broke apart like a frozen river in spring, chunks of crystal scattering across the jungle floor. Bodies tumbled through ferns and mud and rotting leaves. Branches snapped. Birds screamed.

Then—

Silence.

The jungle swallowed them whole.

Bai Yue’s ears were ringing.

She lay in the mud, staring up at the canopy, and tried to remember how to breathe. Something warm and wet was dripping down her forehead. Blood? Water? She couldn’t tell.

Move

, she told herself. Move move move.

She pushed herself up on shaking arms.

The jungle was dark. The trees were so thick here that the sun barely penetrated, turning everything to shades of green and grey and shadow. Ferns the size of small trees crowded around her. Vines draped from the branches like curtains.

And scattered across the mud, in various states of disarray, were her family.

Yàn Shū was on his hands and knees, patting the ground frantically. “My glasses—I can’t—everything is blurry—”

Zhāo Yàn was already on his feet, his nine tails fanned out, his crimson eyes scanning the trees. “We need to move. That chain was aimed at us. They know where we are.”

“We need to count first,” Bai Yue said, pushing herself upright. Her legs shook. She ignored them. “Headcount. Now. Everyone sound off.”

“Yàn Shū,” the scholar said, still searching for his glasses.

“Zhāo Yàn,” the Fox Lord said, crossing his arms.

“Han Shān,” came the rumble from her left.

Bai Yue turned.

Han Shān was standing at the edge of the clearing, his back to her, his shoulders rigid. His white hair was streaked with mud. His hands were curled into fists at his sides.

“Ruì Xuě,” he said. “Where is my son?”

The question hung in the air like frost.

Bai Yue’s heart seized. She scanned the clearing again. No small white figure. No purple eyes. No—

“Hóng Yè!” she called out. “Zhēn! Tao Zi!”

“Here!”

Hóng Yè’s voice came from behind a massive fallen log. Bai Yue scrambled toward it, slipping in the mud, her heart in her throat.

She found them huddled together in the hollow beneath the log’s roots.

Hóng Yè sat with his back against the wood, Zhēn tucked against his chest, Tao Zi pressed against his side. All three of them were alive. All three of them were breathing.

Bai Yue dropped to her knees and pulled Zhēn into her arms, pressing kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, her hair.

“Mama,” Zhēn whimpered, “Mama, I was so scared—”

“I know, baby, I know. You’re safe. You’re safe.”

Tao Zi sat stiffly beside them, his dark eyes wide, his hands curled into fists on his knees. He wasn’t crying. He wasn’t speaking. He was just… staring.

Bai Yue reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “You’re okay. We’re all okay.”

Tao Zi said nothing. But his shoulders dropped, just slightly.

“Hóng Yè?” Bai Yue looked at the teenager.

Hóng Yè’s face was pale beneath his red fur. His right arm was bent at an awkward angle, cradled against his chest. His sleeve was dark with blood.

“I’m fine,” he said immediately.

“You’re bleeding.”

“It’s just a scratch.”

“Hóng Yè.”

He looked away. “I caught them. That’s what matters.”

Bai Yue wanted to argue. Wanted to drag him to Yàn Shū for treatment immediately. But the count wasn’t finished.

“Where’s Ruì Xuě?” she asked.

Hóng Yè’s jaw tightened. “I don’t know. He wasn’t with us when I—” He stopped. Swallowed. “I didn’t see where he landed.”

“Mo Xiao!” Bai Yue called out. “Glimmer! Yòu Lín!”

“Here!” Yòu Lín’s voice came from somewhere above them. Bai Yue looked up to see the fox kit perched on a low branch, his orange fur disheveled, his ears flat. Glimmer was beside him, still in her dragon form, her green scales dulled with mud.

“We’re okay,” Glimmer said. “We’re both okay. But I didn’t see—”

“Mo Xiao!” Bai Yue called again.

A rustle in the ferns.

Mo Xiao stepped out of the undergrowth, his panther form shifting back to human as he walked. His amber eyes were dark. His hands were empty.

“Ruì Xuě isn’t with me,” he said. “I’ve been searching. There’s no sign of him.”

Han Shān turned.

His face was carved from ice. His blue eyes were flat and cold and absolutely terrifying.

“Then we find him,” he said.

A growl echoed from the bushes.

Everyone froze.

Han Shān moved first, stepping between the sound and the rest of the group. Ice crystallized on his knuckles.

The bushes rustled.

And a pair of gold eyes emerged from the shadows.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep