'No, I cannot!' Feng cried inwardly, his chest rising and falling as panic surged through him.
His knuckles were white as he gripped the bone spear Elyon had given him.
Cold mist rose from the snow-packed ground, and before him, half-hidden among the trees, a group of frost monkeys glared at him with piercing, crystal-blue eyes.
Their teeth were chattering in fury.
Feng's throat bobbed.
He had been wrong.
Entirely wrong.
Just yesterday, when Azel mentioned that he would begin real training, Feng had thought back to the sect manuals.
He remembered the beasts described in those dusty tomes — docile spirit beasts that had only barely touched qi, creatures so weak that they were mostly used for introductory hunts.
'Those I can handle,' he had told himself confidently.
But these?
His trembling hands betrayed him as he stared at the monkeys. The air around them crackled with mana, visible frost condensing on the bark where they clung.
These were no mere spirit beasts.
