The night was far from over.
The captured assassins knelt, bound and gagged, in the secret basement of a safehouse outside the capital. A single lantern swung from the ceiling, casting long, wavering shadows across the stone walls.
Sheng Long stood before them, arms crossed, his face carved from ice.
Beside him, Xiao Lin hovered silently, the jade fox pendant tucked securely against his chest. Though still pale from the encounter, his red eyes burned with a quiet fire.
Yan Shuo leaned casually against the doorway, a wicked grin playing on his lips as he twirled a dagger between his fingers.
"You know," Yan Shuo said, examining his nails, "I always wondered what kind of rats the royal family would send when cornered. Turns out they're the common, ugly kind."
One of the assassins, a grizzled man with a scar running down his jaw, glared up at them with defiance. Even gagged, the hatred in his eyes was palpable.
Sheng Long crouched before the man, silent for a long moment.
Then, with a sudden, deliberate movement, he tore away the gag.
The man coughed, spitting blood onto the floor, but said nothing.
Sheng Long's voice was calm, almost bored.
"You will talk."
The assassin sneered. "Or what, Marshal? Oh wait— ex-Marshal. You're a dead man walking."
Sheng Long's smile was thin and humorless.
"That's the difference between you and me. I walk. You'll be crawling when I'm finished."
The room seemed to thrum with power — the faint scent of dragon fire curling into the air.
The assassin paled, sweat breaking out on his forehead. His beast nucleus, weak and trembling, reacted instinctively to the force pressing down on him.
Sheng Long leaned closer. "Who sent you?"
The man licked his cracked lips, hesitating.
Before he could decide whether to spit or speak, Xiao Lin moved.
He knelt beside Sheng Long, fixing the assassin with a deceptively gentle gaze. A soft glow radiated from his palm — the beginnings of his healing power, focused not to heal, but to touch the assassin's mental sea.
The man's breath caught.
"You're… you're one of them," he rasped, terror leaking into his voice. "The cursed bloodline..."
Xiao Lin blinked innocently, tilting his head.
"If you don't speak," he said softly, "I can show you what a 'cursed bloodline' can really do."
A pulse of energy radiated outward — delicate but sharp, slicing through the assassin's defenses like silk.
The man screamed, clutching his head.
Sheng Long rested a hand lightly on Xiao Lin's shoulder. Enough — no need to damage him permanently.
Within seconds, the assassin was panting, broken.
"It was... it was one of the royal princes," he gasped. "Not the Crown Prince. One of the younger ones—second or third in line. They… they made a deal with the Zerg..."
The room froze.
Xiao Lin felt the chill seep into his bones.
Sheng Long's expression didn't change, but the air around him grew colder, sharper.
"Which one?" Sheng Long said, voice deadly soft.
"I—I don't know which!" the assassin sobbed. "They always used masks. We only knew the target — the silver-haired ger with the fox mark. Said he could ruin everything. They said… they said if he awakened fully, the Zerg wouldn't stand a chance..."
Xiao Lin shivered, wrapping his arms around himself unconsciously.
They're afraid of me. But why?
Sheng Long rose, turning his back on the assassin as if he were no longer worth his attention.
"Take them away," he said to Yan Shuo. "Strip them of their beast nuclei. Let them rot."
Yan Shuo saluted lazily and dragged the prisoners out with brutal efficiency.
In the empty room, Xiao Lin remained kneeling, staring at the floor.
"You were very brave tonight," Sheng Long said after a moment.
Xiao Lin blinked up at him, startled.
"But I was scared," he said honestly.
Sheng Long crouched in front of him, placing a heavy hand atop his silvery head.
"You fought even though you were scared. That's true courage."
Xiao Lin's throat tightened.
He wanted to say something — something about how much it meant, how much he admired Sheng Long's strength, how he wished he could be just as fearless.
But he couldn't find the words.
Instead, he clutched the jade fox pendant tighter and simply nodded.
Sheng Long stood, his cloak swirling around him like storm clouds gathering.
"Get some rest," he said. "Tomorrow... we start hunting in earnest."
And for the first time, Xiao Lin understood that their battle wasn't just against monsters from beyond the stars.
It was against the monsters bred within their own empire, wearing the smiling masks of nobility.