The courtyard trembled as Captain Hong’s flaming greatsword carved a scorching arc through the ant swarm. Charred insect husks rained like black snow. Lin Hao’s enhanced hearing parsed the captain’s qi fluctuations—a Level 5 Warrior, beyond current pet capabilities.

  Retreat.

  Ant-Man’s antennae pulsed. The crimson tide fractured into fractal patterns, dispersing across marble tiles and climbing courtyard walls. Captain Hong’s nostrils flared as his next fiery sweep met only empty air.

  “Since when do insects strategize?” he growled, blade tip smoking.

  Lin Hao turned toward the central pavilion, Wolf Spider scuttling ahead to map patrol routes. His milky eyes narrowed—three figures approached through the moon gate. Patriarch Lin Hongkang’s iron-shod boots struck stone like gavel blows. To his left waddled Li Qingshou, the bald magnate’s piggish eyes devouring Lin Wanrong’s silhouette.

  “Why does trash return to its heap?” The Patriarch’s voice carried winter’s bite.

  Lin Hao’s scaled knuckles whitened. “Collecting forgotten belongings.”

  “Your pitiful possessions were incinerated the day you sold our bloodline to the Zhaos.”

  Ant-Man’s swarm stirred beneath the patriarch’s boots. Lin Wanrong’s jade hairpin pressed discreetly against her throat—a silent plea for restraint.

  Li Qingshou chuckled, jowls quivering. “So this is the blind worm who bedded Zhao Ling’er? Tell me, boy—does she guide your limp—”

  “I understand your envy.” Lin Hao’s smile glinted like a honed dagger. “Like watching a rose bloom in a cesspool, yes?”

  The magnate’s face purpled. “You dare—!”

  “Apologize!” Patriarch Lin’s command cracked like thunder. “Or I’ll strip your Lin surname here and now!”

  Lin Hao’s draconic scales rippled across his neck. “My name was forged in your ancestral hall’s hypocrisy. Try taking it.”

  The Kung Fu Fly hovered protectively as qi pressure thickened. Lin Wanrong stepped between them, her perfume masking the Wolf Spider’s venom glands priming nearby.

  “Please, Hao’er.” Her whisper carried childhood memories—shared rice bowls, smuggled scrolls. “Your old room remains untouched. Let’s retrieve what you need.”

  Li Qingshou seized her wrist, rancid breath hot against her ear. “After our vows tonight, you’ll learn proper obedience.”

  Ant-Man’s swarm surged. A thousand mandibles latched onto the magnate’s silk slippers. His scream pierced the courtyard as venomous fire ants scaled his corpulent frame.

  “Guards!” The Patriarch’s blade cleared its sheath. “Subdue this traitor!”

  The Wolf Spider’s adhesive silk netted the first three warriors. Lin Hao stepped through the chaos, Ant-Man’s legion parting before him. His scaled palm closed around the Patriarch’s sword wrist, dark energy corroding the ceremonial blade.

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  “You sold our sister for grain contracts.” Lin Hao’s whisper carried the weight of tectonic plates shifting. “Now watch insects feast on your harvest.”

  Through the Fly’s eyes, he saw distant granary towers swarming with black specks—Ant-Man’s reinforcements devouring winter reserves. Li Qingshou’s wails crescendoed as fire ants breached his nostril.

  “This isn’t over, whelp.” The Patriarch’s qi flared, melting scales off Lin Hao’s grip.

  “No.” Lin Hao released him, Wolf Spider already spinning escape routes. “It’s just beginning.”

  As dusk bled into night, the compound’s chaos birthed new legends—of a blind storm clad in scales and shadows, whose wrath arrived not with fanfare, but in the ceaseless whisper of a million chitinous feet.

  The Dragon’s Defiance

  Li Qingshou’s porcine face quivered with malicious glee. “Your family discipline falters, Brother Lin. Even blind weeds dare challenge the oak.”

  Patriarch Lin Hongkang’s qi erupted—a crushing mountain of invisible force slamming Lin Hao to his knees. Marble cracked beneath his boots as Level 6 Warrior pressure liquefied the air. Lin Hao’s bones groaned like storm-tossed timbers.

  Dragonbane Sword… now!

  Dark energy erupted from the sheathed blade in Lin Hao’s satchel. Obsidian scales crawled across his arms, fangs elongating as bestial roars tore from his throat. The Patriarch staggered back—his aura shattered like glass against draconic fury.

  “Body Tempering Art?!” The Patriarch’s eyes widened as Lin Hao rose, scaled fists cratering the courtyard tiles. Level 3 Warrior qi radiated from the transformed youth, yet something deeper pulsed beneath—an ancient hunger that made Li Qingshou soil his silk trousers.

  Lin Wanrong’s jasmine perfume cut through the tension as she seized Lin Hao’s clawed hand. “Come,” she murmured, fingers brushing the still-thrumming scales. “Your childhood journals remain in the north annex.”

  The Patriarch’s voice halted them. “After retrieving your… belongings,” he ground out, “attend me in the scriptorium.”

  Li Qingshou’s jowls flushed crimson. “You let this mongrel parade with my bride?!”

  “Patience, Brother Li.” The Patriarch’s smile chilled the courtyard. “Would you rather your wedding bed stink of burnt scales?”

  As Lin Wanrong guided her brother through moonlit corridors, the Dragonbane’s whispers faded. Lin Hao’s scales retracted, leaving tattered robes and the metallic tang of spent power.

  “You reek of bloodshed,” Lin Wanrong observed, pausing beneath a wisteria arbor.

  “Wolf Spider venom in the granaries,” Lin Hao admitted. “Li’s winter stocks now host a thriving ant colony.”

  Her laughter sparkled like shattered ice. “You always did overprepare.”

  ———

  The scriptorium’s incense couldn’t mask the Patriarch’s agitation. Scrolls detailing Lin Hao’s “blindness” since birth lay scattered—decades of meticulously falsified records.

  “Who trained you?” The Patriarch’s blade hovered over Lin Hao’s exposed throat. “The Zhao’s hidden masters? Or some demonic sect?”

  Lin Hao smiled, fangs glinting. “A teacher who values loyalty over profit.”

  The Patriarch’s blade trembled. Through the window, distant granary fires painted the night orange. Ant-Man’s swarm had breached the Li family’s vaults hours prior.

  “Name your price,” the Patriarch rasped. “Silence regarding Wanrong’s true parentage? Access to the ancestral tombs?”

  Lin Hao’s laughter shook dust from the rafters. “I want your nightmares.” He leaned close, scales rippling. “Every time you close your eyes, see my jaws closing on Li Qingshou’s throat. Hear his screams as my pets devour his manhood.”

  The Patriarch recoiled. “You wouldn’t dare disrupt the alliance!”

  “Alliance?” Lin Hao’s claw traced the Lin family crest on the floor. “By dawn, Li’s warehouses will be crawling with venomous spiders. His men desert, his mistresses flee… unless Wanrong’s betrothal dissolves.”

  ———

  In the bridal suite, Lin Wanrong stared at the ceremonial dagger. Ant-Man scuttled across her palm, antennae brushing the blade’s edge.

  “He’s grown reckless,” she murmured.

  The ant’s mandibles clacked—a coded laugh. On the dressing table, the Kung Fu Fly polished its wings with Li Qingshou’s stolen signet ring.

  When the door crashed open, Li Qingshou found no trembling bride—only a scaled silhouette backlit by burning granaries.

  “Remember,” Lin Hao growled, Dragonbane Sword singing free, “roses have thorns.”

  The night’s first scream went unheard beneath the Patriarch’s orders to douse the fires. By sunrise, Lin Hao’s legend grew—a dragon who’d scorched tradition itself to protect what gardens remained.