The mountain eagle's sharp cry cut through the air as its feet touched down on the smooth stone of the Burning Sun Peak sect's inner court.
But instead of the calm and serenity the place usually carried, there was something disturbingly wrong.
The moment they landed, Mo Han's sharp eyes narrowed. His body stiffened as he caught the sound—harsh, broken, desperate.
The spirit crane beast, a loyal companion of Fatty Lambu, was standing near the entrance of the stone courtyard. Its wings were spread wide, and from its throat poured an anguished, hoarse cry, the kind of cry beasts made only when their bonded masters were in danger. Its voice trembled, cracked, and yet it screamed again, wings slapping against the ground as though trying to rattle the world into listening.
"Something's wrong," Mo Han muttered, his voice low but heavy as thunder. Without wasting another second, he leapt down from the eagle and sprinted across the courtyard, his boots hammering the stone tiles.
