“Chen Wuya.”

His eyes snapped open. He reached for his sword.

Fen Long caught his hand. He lifted a finger to his lips.

A branch snapped. Leaves brushed against something.

Moving quietly to a crouch, Chen Wuya rested his hand on his hilt. Beside him, Fen Long did the same.

The flap of fabric marking the door to the cabin fluttered slightly, lifted by the wind. A furry shadow shuffled by, backlit by the embers of the fire. From here, Chen Wuya couldn’t see much more than the rounded hump of its shoulders.

Chen Wuya took a deep breath. Faint strands of demonic qi drifted over on the night air.

“A demon? A bear?” Fen Long whispered.

“Demonic beasts are more active at night,” Chen Wuya replied, furrowing his brows slightly. You won’t get me that easily, Kai Bailong!

“Bears are active at night, too,” Fen Long replied. He bit his lip, troubled.

The creature huffed. The fire winked out. It shuffled along, low and slow.

Black fog swirled from the creature’s fur, emanating into the campsite. It seeped into the wagon through the gap in the hanging flap. The creature continued to walk past, one shoulder after another shuffling past the wagon. Two, three, four sets of shoulders, and the furry low body shambled on.

Fen Long lifted his sleeve over his mouth. He glanced at Chen Wuya. “I don’t think that’s a bear.”

“No,” Chen Wuya agreed. He drew his sword and moved to the wagon’s flap.

“Wait.” Fen Long pressed a round pill into Chen Wuya’s hand. Chalky and dull, the green pill lacked a scent. “Take this. If that miasma is poison, it should delay the effect.”

Chen Wuya paused a moment, glancing at the pill. He met Fen Long’s eyes, then nodded and tossed it back. If he meant to kill me, he wouldn’t have bothered to heal me last time. If he meant to control me with poison, I already took one of his pills. I’m already screwed. There’s no harm in taking another.

Bitterness smacked the back of his throat. Before he could spit the pill out, it melted into a thick powder that coated his entire mouth. Face puckered fiercely, he desperately welled up spit and swallowed down repeatedly. At last, he managed to gasp a breath. “Fuck, shit! What did you feed me?”

“A… poison-slowing pill,” Fen Long said, face equally puckered. Eyes squinted shut, mouth twisted, eyebrows raised, he chewed, clearly struggling to swallow the pill as well.

At the sight of his pained expression, Chen Wuya burst out laughing. Ah, alright. I’ll forgive him for suffering through the same pain! He drew a waterskin and washed down the flavor with a gulp. “Alright. Enough talk.”

Chen Wuya leaped out of the wagon. Black mist swirled around his legs as he landed. He looked around, eyes fierce.

A long, low furry body stretched before him. Tufted black fur stood tall on its back. A hundred stout legs pedaled along one after another, hoisting the fat creature along. It inched forward, straightening its hunched back, then reared up, turning a black, flat face toward him.

“A—caterpillar?” Chen Wuya muttered.

The huge caterpillar roared. Black spittle flew from its mouth, along with a handful of fist-sized round objects. The objects struck the ground and burst open into fat white maggots. Writhing, the maggots quickly pupated, growing larger and larger until a half-dozen toddler-sized wasps fluttered before them, wings buzzing on the wind.

In sync, Fen Long and Chen Wuya drew their swords. The wasps split in all directions, whirling toward the wagons. Chen Wuya leaped and cut one down, and another fell apart at a stroke from Fen Long, but the other four hurtled past.

“Shit!” Fen Long muttered.

“Language,” Chen Wuya replied, eyes glittering with mischief.

Fen Long sprinted after the wasps, Chen Wuya not far behind. “Is now the time?”

Even as they chased the wasps, the caterpillar reared up again. Another handful of black wasp eggs spat from its mouth and shattered on the ground, rapidly growing.

Chen Wuya slammed his foot down and slid to a stop. “I’ll take the caterpillar, you get the wasps?”

“There’s too many!” Fen Long panted. He lashed out, cutting another down, but the other three were upon the wagons, already darting down to strike them.

A flute rang out, note shimmering on the night air. Instantly, the talismans on the wagons glowed. Green light enveloped the wagons, revealing the slumped form of Zhao Gaoren, head tipped back, snoring away with his sword tucked under his arm.

The first wasp struck at the wagon, razor-sharp stinger glinting in the moonlight. It slammed into the green light and bounced off. The wasp flew backward, rolling over itself in the air.

Fen Long sliced it down before it could recover. “Who?”

Atop one of the wagons, a female shape sat, legs folded demurely to the side. She raised her flute and continued to play. A haunting tune floated on the night. The shields fluctuated in time with the notes, growing stronger and weaker with their volume.

Chen Wuya narrowed his eyes. “Meiling?”

The puppeteer’s flautist trilled in reply, then returned to her steady playing.

With Meiling protecting the wagons, Fen Long made short work of the wasps. He sprinted forward, rushing to meet the second wave.

Seeing the death of its children, the caterpillar reared up again, its dozens of eyes glowing red. It heaved back, cocking its head to spit more eggs.

Chen Wuya scoffed. “No, you don’t.”

Fen Long’s here. I can’t risk using the Seven Forms of Autumn. If he’s Kai Bailong, that would be the end of my blessed freedom. He planted his feet, spreading his stance, then leapt up into the air. His sword shot upward, slicing through the caterpillar’s maw.

The caterpillar roared, spitting up blood and eggs. Its severed mouth flopped around. A deep cleft gaped from jaw to forehead, spraying green ichor.

Chen Wuya darted back, avoiding the ichor. Where it landed, the earth sizzled, then melted away. A splash of ichor hit one of the fresh eggs seconds after it landed. The maggot burst out of the egg and screamed, dissolving into a puddle of mush even as its body struggled to form.

Catching some of the ichor on his blade, Chen Wuya slashed at the other hatching eggs. The ichor flew across the maggots’ writhing white bodies. Where it landed, the white flesh stained black, and holes opened up in the growing maggots.

His sword sizzled. The metal tarnished. Chen Wuya knelt and swiped his sword through the dirt, cleaning the ichor off it. How virulent!

The caterpillar reared high above him. Stumpy legs wiggled in the air, its body shifting. It blocked out the moon. Its weighty body slammed down at Chen Wuya.

Chen Wuya threw himself out of the way, rolling through the dirt. The caterpillar slammed down, spraying dirt everywhere. A wave of black fog rushed out of its body, hissing through the fur. A blast of the fog hit Chen Wuya directly in the face. He coughed, stumbling back.

A wall of furry flesh rushed at him. He threw himself backward, quickly escaping. The flesh kept coming, sharp fur whistling through the air. Narrowing his eyes, Chen Wuya lashed out. His sword sliced through the fur, but only the tip scored a cut in the flesh. He grimaced, disappointed.

The caterpillar screamed in fury. It flinched back as though he’d cut a brutal wound. Whirling around, it raced at him, its pudgy limbs pounding the earth. Maw gaping wide, ichor spewing, it chased after Chen Wuya.

“Chen Wuya!” Throwing himself off the top of a wagon, Fen Long floated through the air, exhibiting his mastery of the light-body technique. He arced down at the caterpillar and sliced a gash in its side.

The beast whirled around, rushing for Fen Long instead.

Across the beast, Chen Wuya and Fen Long’s eyes met. Without a word, understanding flashed between them.

Before it could get far, Chen Wuya cut at its opposite side. It whirled again, but Fen Long struck again. Another whirl, but before it could build any speed, Chen Wuya’s sword bit again.

Enraged, the caterpillar reared up, exposing its soft stomach. Chen Wuya and Fen Long darted in. As one, they slashed deep into the creature’s underbelly.

“Run, the ichor is acid!” Chen Wuya snapped, fleeing.

Fen Long nodded and jumped back, avoiding a splash. It hissed into the earth at his feet.

Screeching, the caterpillar slammed back down. It tried to push itself up again. A great wave of guts and ichor fell out of the gashes in its underside. The caterpillar screamed again, spraying mouthfuls of ichor over the earth. It heaved its head up one last time, then sagged to the earth, sinking into a puddle of its own ichor. Its body hissed and spat, even its own tissues unable to stand up to the ichor.

Without the caterpillar to supply steady waves of black mist, the mist began to dissipate. Atop the wagon, Meiling lowered her flute. The green shields began to fade, the paint on the talismans dulling as the shields fell.

“Demonic beasts. I thought this forest was purified,” Fen Long muttered, glancing at the dead caterpillar.

“Guess not,” Chen Wuya replied.

Both of them lifted their eyes, gazing deeper into the forest.

“Shall we?” Fen Long asked.

“Demonic beasts are more active at night,” Chen Wuya replied.

Without another word, the two of them raced into the forest.