Kaisin Grez stood apart, a solitary figure against the starship's gleaming deck, his ruby eyes glinting with the cold fire of a predator. As the heir to the Grez clan, he carried the weight of a lineage renowned for its ferocity and discipline, his spirit a silver wolf that bowed to no master. He believed his strength rivaled that of any beast-kind heir, yet in the Empire's team, led by the Ronin clan, he was an outlier. Unlike the Uss or Ji heirs, who wielded influence with ease, Kaisin's voice held no sway. His clashes with teammates were frequent, their resentment palpable, yet none dared cross him outright. He was a lone wolf—untamed, unyielding, and untouchable.
"I'm not going," Kaisin said, his tone flat as he rebuffed Bai Sha's invitation. "I'm not interested."
Bai Sha's lips curved, her deep blue eyes gleaming with a knowing spark. "You think this is just about dinner? I'm inviting you to a team-building exercise. Do you know what that means? It's a process to enhance a team's energy, cohesion, and collaboration—ultimately, to strengthen our collective power."
Kaisin's brow furrowed, her words piercing his defenses as she stepped closer, her presence encroaching on his carefully guarded space. He didn't doubt her intent. Bai Sha's reputation preceded her—her combat metrics had skyrocketed over the past year, a testament to her skill and resolve. She might indeed possess secrets to elevate the team, a prospect that intrigued him despite his skepticism. Her motive was clear: the Empire team, unbeaten until the Federation's cunning upset, needed a spark to reverse its fortunes. Kaisin weighed her words, his silence a fortress, until Bai Sha's next remark shattered it.
"If you don't want to come, fine," she said, her voice deceptively light. "Fight me instead. Beat me, and I won't force you."
Kaisin's expression darkened, his jaw tightening. Fight Bai Sha? He wasn't delusional—she was a force beyond his reach. The challenge was a trap, and he'd walked into it. Reluctantly, he found himself dragged into a dinner that was anything but ordinary.
The group consisted of Bai Sha's inner circle: Jiya, Xino, Cen Yuehuai, and Yu Yan—a tight-knit quintet orbiting their Crown Heir. With the joint exercise concluded, they had no immediate obligations. The second-year elite team rounds, their next hurdle, didn't involve them, offering a rare window for rest. Most would have sought leave to return to Tianxu Star, but this crew had other plans. They filed a leave request with their team leader, securing a small shuttle to detour to an unremarkable planet on their journey home.
The planet was a middling world, hovering between second- and third-tier status within the Empire's vast dominion. Its infrastructure was average, its economy steady but unremarkable. Yet it boasted a rare virtue: pristine natural beauty. Lush forests, crystalline waters, and rolling hills drew visitors to its renowned scenic spots, making it a haven for those seeking respite from the galaxy's chaos. The team, disguised as tourists in sunglasses and caps, blended seamlessly into the crowd, their military bearing softened by casual attire.
Their first destination was White Kite Lake, a gem nestled in the planet's heart. The lake's waters murmured softly, their gentle ripples catching the sunlight in a dance of liquid silver. A nearby signboard waxed poetic: "The White Narcissus Falls cascade three thousand feet, a torrent from the Milky Way's embrace. Mist rises where sky and water meet, rainbows bloom in the sun's caress, and kites soar with leaping fish." Cen Yuehuai, adjusting her sunglasses, read the description aloud, her voice tinged with amusement. "Who writes this stuff? It's so flowery."
"It's rare to find a place this untouched," Bai Sha said, flipping through a digital guide with Cen Yuehuai. "They say the water here is pure enough to drink straight from the lake."
Kaisin, clad in stark black, glowered from the sidelines, his patience fraying. "This is your idea of team-building?"
Bai Sha met his scowl with an innocent shrug. "Didn't you know? Team-building usually means a trip or a retreat. We planned a simple dinner, but since you wanted more than that, we brought you to this little paradise."
Kaisin's lips parted, then closed. He turned to leave, his boots scuffing the ground, but Xino's voice stopped him. "Hold up! Ever heard of the waterfall fish? A natural marvel, insanely delicious, but so picky about its habitat it's nearly extinct." Xino's golden hair gleamed as he leaned in, his tone conspiratorial. "Rumor has it, eating one boosts your stamina and mental energy."
Kaisin snorted. "You believe that nonsense?"
As if on cue, a trio by the lakeside erupted in cheers, their fishing rods bent under the weight of their catch. Two fish, sleek and shuttle-shaped, broke the surface, their translucent fins flashing like cicada wings. In the air, they traced arcs of silver light, their beauty drawing gasps from the onlookers. The group handled their prize with reverence, unhooking the fish and laying them on a smooth stone. One produced a knife, deftly gutting the catch, while the others set up a portable grill. Soon, the air carried the faint, tantalizing aroma of roasting fish, its subtle freshness stirring primal hunger.
Kaisin froze, his resolve wavering as the scent teased his senses. He glanced back, expecting Bai Sha to press her advantage, but found her and the others fixated on the grill, their expressions a mix of awe and longing. Even Jiya, usually composed, looked ravenous.
Cen Yuehuai swallowed hard, her voice teasing as she turned to Kaisin. "Still leaving?"
"Don't ask," Bai Sha said, already moving. "Let's find fishing gear."
A spark lit in Cen Yuehuai's eyes. "Yu Yan! Your spirit beast—it catches fish, right?"
Yu Yan's spirit was a white bear, a natural fisherman. He shook his head. "I can catch in shallows, but this lake's too deep. We need rods."
The lake's regulations were strict: no nets, no explosives, only traditional rods permitted. Visitors were vetted, and the nearby shop rented gear for a deposit, with a tax on any fish caught. Waterfall fish, however, were elusive, their cunning making catches as rare as a jackpot. "No wonder those guys were thrilled," Cen Yuehuai said, perched on a stool by the lake, her rented rod creaking as she cast and reeled fruitlessly. "These fish are impossible!"
Yu Yan, the only one with fishing experience from a childhood on a waterworld, wielded his rod with practiced ease but caught nothing. Xino and Jiya, focused and hopeful, met with equal failure. Bai Sha and Kaisin, rods in hand, stood oddly still, as if waiting for divine intervention.
Then, Kaisin's line twitched.
Xino, Jiya, and Cen Yuehuai's heads snapped toward him, their eyes sharp. "What're you all staring at?" Kaisin muttered, uncomfortable under their scrutiny.
"Shh," Cen Yuehuai hissed, gesturing for silence. "Don't scare it."
Kaisin scoffed. "It's not that easy—" His words cut off as the line jerked violently.
"It's hooked!" Cen Yuehuai whispered, nudging Xino. "Hold steady, Kaisin! Don't move, don't let go! Where's the net?"
Chaos ensued. Cen Yuehuai tripped over a rock, nearly tumbling into the lake. Xino caught her, passing the net to Jiya, who approached with the gravity of a soldier facing battle. Her amber eyes, usually sharp with rivalry, shone with pure anticipation, a warmth that disarmed Kaisin. He blinked, caught off guard by her unguarded enthusiasm.
"Don't just stand there!" Jiya growled, her voice low to avoid startling the fish, her face contorted with effort. "Pull!"
Kaisin yanked the rod instinctively. The line snapped taut, the pole bending as a massive shape broke the surface—a half-meter-long mutant catfish, its black scales glinting, its gaping mouth flopping. Jiya hesitated, and the fish crashed onto the grass, flipping onto its back and spewing a torrent of muddy water at her.
Jiya stood, drenched and furious, her eyes blazing. Kaisin, nearly dragged off his feet by the fish's weight, stared in disbelief. The warmth in Jiya's gaze vanished, replaced by familiar wrath. "Kaisin Grez! Why didn't you hold the rod? That thing's heavier than a waterfall fish—you couldn't tell? You did this on purpose!"
"It's my first time fishing!" Kaisin snapped. "When did I promise it'd be a waterfall fish?"
Jiya's laugh was bitter. Dropping the net, she hefted the slimy catfish, its mouth aimed at Kaisin. "Let's see how you like getting sprayed!"
The fish, provoked, prepared another deluge. Kaisin's eyes widened, and he bolted, tossing his rod aside. Jiya, clutching the catfish like a weapon, gave chase, her pursuit as fierce as a laser cannon's barrage. Cen Yuehuai and Xino abandoned their rods, grinning at the spectacle, while Yu Yan continued his methodical casting, lost in thought.
Bai Sha, perched on her stool, laughed until her sides ached, her rod dangling unattended. A subtle tug at her line caught her attention. She held still, easing the line until a firm pull confirmed her catch. With a swift flick, she reeled in—a shimmering waterfall fish, its silver scales scattering rainbows in the spray. The group fell silent, their eyes locked on her prize.
"I think I got one," Bai Sha said, tilting her head in mild surprise. She unhooked the fish, studying it with a chef's curiosity, debating whether to braise or steam it.
Yu Yan approached, impressed. "How'd you do it?"
"No idea," Bai Sha admitted. "I was laughing at them, barely holding the rod steady."
"Maybe the bait," Yu Yan mused, examining her lure—a standard fish-shaped decoy with silver feathers at its tail.
The team crowded around, intrigued. Cen Yuehuai begged for tips, while Jiya, still fuming, was warned to keep her catfish at bay. Kaisin noted their baits were similar, differing only in feather color. Experiments followed: Bai Sha tried their baits, catching nothing. Reverting to her silver-feathered lure, she landed another fish within thirty minutes. The others tested her bait, but only Yu Yan succeeded, hooking one after persistent effort.
"It's definitely the bait," Cen Yuehuai declared, scrutinizing it as if it held cosmic secrets. "Why this one?"
Jiya frowned, then whirled on Kaisin, her eyes narrowing. "You. Summon your spirit."
Kaisin bristled. "Looking for a fight?"
"No, idiot," Jiya snapped, yanking the feathers from her bait and tossing them at him. "Tie this to your wolf's tail and fish with it."
Kaisin's spirit was a silver wolf, its fur a pristine metallic sheen. He stared, incredulous, as Jiya's logic sank in. Bai Sha nodded. "Worth a try. We've got three fish—not enough for us. If the silver feathers are key, this could work. We've got two and a half hours left, folks."
Kaisin's gaze darkened, but Jiya pressed. "Do it, or no fish for you. Oh, and that catfish? It's yours. Bet it tastes decent."
"Easy," Bai Sha said, her smile disarming. "We'll share the fish, Kaisin, friends or not. But your wolf's tail won't feel a nibble."
Cen Yuehuai chimed in, pleading. "Please! My spirit's too wild—I'd be mauled if I tried. Yours is perfect!"
Bai Sha mused, "My Xuan Bird has some silver…"
"No!" the group, minus Kaisin, shouted in unison. "The Xuan Bird's too conspicuous!"
"Fair," Bai Sha conceded, turning to Kaisin. "So, you in?"
Kaisin grunted, saying nothing, but a ripple of mental energy shimmered, and a majestic silver wolf materialized. It nuzzled his hand, its form powerful yet graceful. "Go," Kaisin said.
Cen Yuehuai hesitated. "Its tail's thick—will fish bite it? Maybe we should pluck some fur."
The team eyed the wolf's tail speculatively. The wolf growled, sensing betrayal, and vanished back into its mental realm. After a brief struggle, they harvested a handful of soft, silvery fur, crafting new lures. Within minutes, waterfall fish began biting, their buckets soon brimming with the elusive catch.
"Enough!" Bai Sha exclaimed, hoisting a bucket. "Tonight, we feast!"
"Who's cooking?" Cen Yuehuai asked.
"Not me," Xino said, hands raised.
"I can start a fire," Jiya offered.
"We don't have to rough it," Cen Yuehuai suggested. "We can hire a chef."
They returned their gear to the shop, a modest establishment staffed by a young woman and an elderly man. The woman inventoried their rods, while the man, lounging behind the counter, scanned news on his wrist computer. Xino, first to settle, approached to pay the tax. The man glanced at their buckets, his eyes lingering. "Good haul," he said, pointing to the scanner.
"Thanks," Xino replied, paying quickly, eager to leave.
The scanner glitched. "Sorry, it's acting up," the man said. "That's a hefty tax—try the self-service machine over there. I'm too old for this tech, but our clerk can help." He sent the woman to guide them, taking over the remaining inventory.
Only Bai Sha and Kaisin's gear remained. The man processed their returns, refunding their deposits. "I'm too old to lug this stuff," he said. "Mind helping me to the warehouse out back?"
Obliging, they followed him to a small storage room. As he sorted the gear, he paused at the silver-feathered lure, turning to them. "You look like students, but it's not break season. Where're you from?"
Bai Sha hesitated, their diverse origins hard to pin down. Kaisin, ever blunt, cut in. "If you've got questions, ask them. We're not here to waste time."
Bai Sha tsked. "That's no way to talk to an elder."
The man laughed, unfazed. "No harm done. My gut says you're from well-off families, so the risk's low… I'm talking about this." He held up the lure. "This bait's a secret."
Bai Sha blinked. "You mean it boosts the catch rate?"
"Exactly," he said. "Baits are a dime a dozen, but this one's unique. Locals know these fish are tough to catch, and tourists use our gear. This lure's not supposed to be on the rental rack—a new clerk's mistake put it in your hands." He paused, his eyes keen. "Want to know why it works?"
Bai Sha nodded.
"It's the fish's biology," he explained. "This lake's named for the white kites that once thrived here, alongside waterfall fish. Overfishing decimated the fish, starving the kites, who migrated away. The fish survived in small numbers. Kites were their predators, but the fish could fight back, leaping waterfalls to aid their kin. They're drawn to fish-shaped baits with silver feathers, mimicking kite attacks."
The kites' feathers, Bai Sha inferred, were silver-white, like her lure's adornment. "You might think the fish are foolish, repeating old instincts when their foe's gone. But that's their nature, not their fault. It's us who've wronged them." He handed her the lure, his voice heavy. "The fish are scarce now, no longer a novelty, yet their market price soars. Keep this secret, or the last of them won't survive."
"We will," Bai Sha said, crushing the lure in her fist, rendering it useless. "Today never happened. We're just tourists, leaving soon. Right, Grez?"
Kaisin grunted in agreement.
The man smiled, escorting them out to rejoin the others. By afternoon, they were debating where to enjoy their feast. Bai Sha raised the need for secrecy, prompting varied reactions.
"No big deal," Cen Yuehuai said. "We just won't—"
"We shouldn't come back," Xino interrupted. "The fish are pricey, but farmed ones exist. We'll manage."
"What about researchers?" Yu Yan asked. "If a shopkeeper knows, they must too. Why's it not public?"
Silence fell, the question unanswered. That evening, they skipped the hotel chef, opting for a secluded campsite. Jiya built a fire, though Kaisin teased her with a lighter. Yu Yan stewed, Kaisin grilled, and Bai Sha programmed a secondhand cooking bot to master steaming, braising, and sweet-and-sour recipes. The feast took shape, its aroma a siren's call under the starlit sky.
Cen Yuehuai opened beers, passing them around. "To our fishing victory!" she toasted, clinking cans. Even Kaisin joined, swept up in the moment, his reserve melting in the group's warmth.
The meal stretched past midnight, the stars a glittering canopy. Bai Sha summoned Little White Chirp, feeding it fish scraps. The bird fluttered joyfully, chirping as it nibbled. Kaisin's gaze lingered, prompting her to pause. "What's with the staring, classmate?"
"Just curious," Kaisin said, his voice low. "Why drag me into this?"
"We're friends," Bai Sha replied simply.
Kaisin's eyes narrowed. "The Grez and Ronin clans have centuries of bad blood."
"No grudge is eternal," Bai Sha said, her gaze lifting to the stars. "Like the fish and kites—time changes more than we can resist. If you're set on feud, why accept my invite?"
"I was forced," Kaisin muttered.
"Really? You seemed to enjoy yourself," she teased.
Kaisin fell silent, his defenses faltering. Bai Sha pressed on. "I'll uncover the truth behind my mother's disappearance, and your clan leader's. We'll lay the past bare, settle the scores you want. But the galaxy's full of enemies—nameless threats, the Federation's schemes. The Empire needs the Grez clan, not as vassals, but allies."
Her voice, soft as starlight, carried an undeniable weight. Kaisin met her gaze, his resistance crumbling. "I understand… Your Highness."
With Kaisin's reluctance eased, Bai Sha felt a burden lift. The second-year team rounds now seemed winnable. Kaisin excused himself to strategize with his teammates, leaving the others to return to their hotel. Bai Sha shed her tourist garb, washed away the day's dust, and sat on her bed, lost in thought. Calculating the time on Youdu Star, she opened her wrist computer and called Cecil Ronin.
The line connected. Before Cecil could speak, Bai Sha's voice, quiet and probing, broke the silence. "Uncle, have you heard of the Lone Light?"