The sun rose slow and heavy over the merchant district, bleeding gold into the battered streets.
Inside the safe house, a new kind of rhythm had taken over — one of sweat, bruises, and relentless discipline.
Xiao Lin was shoved backward, sand scraping his palms as he barely caught himself.
Again.
He panted, chest heaving, as Sheng Long stood over him, arms crossed, an unimpressed look on his face.
"You're faster," Sheng Long said coolly. "But hesitation will kill you."
Xiao Lin wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, forcing himself to nod.
Beside them, Yan Shuo tossed a bottle of water toward Xiao Lin, who caught it awkwardly, barely keeping from dropping it.
"You're improving," Yan Shuo said with a crooked grin. "Not fast enough to beat the Marshal in a fight, but hey, even breathing in the same ring as him is a victory."
Sheng Long shot him a glare, but said nothing.
Xiao Lin smiled faintly, his small fangs flashing as he drank.
In truth, he was proud. His muscles ached, his knees were scabbed, and his fox tail drooped low with exhaustion — but he was proud.
Each fall hurt a little less.
Each blow he dodged felt a little quicker.
Each flicker of energy under his skin burned a little brighter.
He could feel it — the animal side of him growing stronger, the red sun on his fox form shining clearer.
Later that evening, after a brutal session where Sheng Long taught him how to counter heavier opponents, Xiao Lin wandered into the small training courtyard to catch his breath.
He leaned against the cool stone wall, ruby eyes fluttering shut.
That's when he heard the footsteps.
Too light to be Yan Shuo.
Too smooth to be Sheng Long.
He opened his eyes just as a figure stepped from the shadows — a tall, elegant man with silver hair braided neatly over one shoulder, wearing a fine dark coat marked with the sigil of the imperial nobles.
Xiao Lin's heart skipped.
Something about the man was... wrong.
He smiled too easily, his eyes lingering too long on Xiao Lin's face, studying him with a predatory sort of interest.
"You must be the Marshal's... new little fox," the man said, voice rich and smooth like poisoned honey.
Xiao Lin straightened, body tense.
The man's smile deepened.
"I can see why he's keeping you hidden. Such beauty... such potential."
He stepped closer, casually, as if they were simply two old friends meeting.
Xiao Lin fought the instinct to bare his teeth. His training screamed at him to stay calm, to not show weakness.
"My name is Lord Fei Ren," the man continued. "I have an eye for rare things. And you, little fox, are rarer than you know."
Before Xiao Lin could reply, a cold voice cut through the courtyard.
"Step away."
Sheng Long stood at the archway, black cloak rippling in the evening breeze.
His eyes blazed with a silent, murderous fury.
Fei Ren's smile didn't falter, but he slowly stepped back, hands raised in mock surrender.
"No harm meant," he said lightly. "I merely wished to introduce myself."
His gaze flicked to Xiao Lin one last time — a lingering, possessive look that made Xiao Lin's skin crawl — before he bowed mockingly to Sheng Long and disappeared into the shadows.
Xiao Lin sagged against the wall once the man was gone, the tension leaving his body in a rush.
Sheng Long was beside him in two long strides.
"Did he touch you?" Sheng Long demanded, voice low and deadly.
Xiao Lin shook his head quickly.
"I'm fine," he whispered. "But... who was that?"
Sheng Long's hands clenched at his sides.
"One of the worst kinds of humans," he said darkly. "Fei Ren is part of the imperial court. A lord with too much money, too many secrets, and no loyalty to anything but himself."
Xiao Lin shivered.
"And he'll come back?" he asked.
Sheng Long's eyes gleamed, the black dragon in him close to the surface.
"Not if I tear his throat out first," he growled.
Meanwhile, far beyond the city, deep in the festering colonies of the Zerg...
The Queen of the Swarm thrashed in her hive, her shrieks rattling the cavern walls.
The Healer, the hive mind screamed.
The fox who mends the broken beasts... he must be destroyed.
Zerg scouts writhed out of the tunnels, rushing to carry the queen's orders.
They would find the little healer.
They would tear apart his mind and body before he could become a threat to the glorious decay.
The hunt had begun.