Atop the obsidian throne, nestled in a coiled pose, lay a small golden-furred cat.

She looked deceptively ordinary, no bigger than a housecat, with sleek fur that shimmered like gold. Her chest rose and fell rhythmically, soft purrs echoing faintly through the vast, silent chamber. The grand palace hall stood motionless, guarded by nothing but darkness and stillness.

Her long tail twitched once.

Then again.

The heavy doors creaked open.

A humanoid figure stepped in, moving with quick, padded steps. She had the shape of a woman, clad in a tight crimson dress woven from silk and obsidian thread. But her head, paws, and digitigrade legs were purely feline—coated in short white fur with black stripes. Her golden feline eyes glowed faintly in the dim candlelight.

The maid knelt immediately before the throne, bowing her head low to the polished floor. "Your Majesty…"

The cat's ears flicked. A single eye peeled open lazily.

"Mmm," came the slow, groggy voice of the Demon Cat Empress. "Did I not… say… I would nap till moonrise?"

"I apologize," the maid said swiftly. "But the Western World Gate was breached."

The Empress opened both eyes now, slitted pupils narrowing slightly. She stretched her forelegs like a lazy kitten, yawning. Her voice remained indifferent. "That gate was under the White Lion King's domain. I assume his killer is the one who intruded."

"Yes, it is likely, Your Majesty," the maid said. "There were no survivors. The outer sentry units were annihilated."

Another yawn escaped the Empress's mouth.

"So… the humans finally made it past the border, hmm?"

She slowly stood, paws clicking softly on the black glass of her throne. "Do they really think just because we are surrounded, they can just come in and kill me? The Sky Pavilion Sect is indeed getting more and more arrogant." The air around her shimmered subtly. Despite her small size, the oppressive force of a world-tier being rippled from her like waves of thick gravity, coiling and twisting in the shadows.

The Empress arched her back in a stretch, then blinked slowly. "Send the boy," she said casually.

"Prince Anan?" the maid asked in mild surprise.

The Demon Cat Empress didn't bother replying this time. She simply turned around once and curled up again atop the throne, eyes already half-shut.

"Deploy him with the Prime Legion," she murmured. "If he fails, I'll deal with it myself. But just in case, send an extra general to protect him."

The maid bowed again. "As you command."

She turned to leave.

"Also," the Empress said idly, her voice now soft and dangerously sweet, "if anyone else wakes me before they breach the inner wall…"

A soft crack echoed as one of her claws extended and pierced straight through the obsidian beneath her without effort.

"I'll snap them into two and feed them to those Canine prisoners."

The maid stiffened in place.

"Understood, Your Majesty."

And with that, she disappeared into the shadows, the door closing behind her.

The Empress gave one final yawn. "Humans… always clawing toward things they shouldn't…"

And then, silence returned to the throne room.

Meanwhile, thousands of kilometers away from the palace;

The wind whispered cold and low as Mark's group soared through the sky, their flight craft gliding effortlessly over jagged peaks and cloud-sheathed ranges. Below them, the world stretched in silver ridgelines and vast pine jungles, dotted with icy streams that slithered through the valleys like veins of light.

They descended in a quiet arc into one such valley, deep in the mountain spine that marked the outer ring of the Feline Empire's capital territory. It was a natural bowl, partially hidden by mist and slope, with steep cliffs on every side—a perfect staging ground.

By the time the sky began to darken with the hints of dusk, the camp was already forming with tents and a campfire as if they had come for a picnic, not for the war.

Each of the five companions knew their rhythm.

Mark stood near the center, beside a flat boulder that jutted like a crooked table from the earth. His coat fluttered gently in the alpine wind. In one motion, he brought out Anti-matter mines one after another.

Mark pulled out five and handed them to Lan Xia without a word. Then five more to the others.

"That's all for now," he said. "A total of 20 mines, just spread them widely over the valley, atleast 20 li (10 kilometers) between each mine. Understood?"

Yuan Feng grunted, hefting the mines into his satchel like they were candy.

Lan Xia examined one, turning it over thoughtfully before giving a small nod.

Reva simply tucked them into her dimensional sleeve with a flick of her wrist, her fox-like ears twitching faintly.

Rynder gave no visible reaction—just disappeared into the shadows, already on the job

He knelt beside the rocky edge of the clearing and began digging a small depression in the soil with a conjured trowel of solid light. His voice remained calm. "They're not stupid to land on these mines. And even if they did, these won't destroy them but just hurt them enough to finish them off."

Lan Xia tilted her head. "You think they'll come on a flying boat like others?"

"I think so." Mark nodded. "And I believe they surely come at night rather than morning. After all, our vision is limited during the night and they have the night vision."

"But what if they want to blow this whole place from the sky instead?" Reva asked, her nine tails swung left and right in stress.

Mark smiled. "Don't worry, I will force them to land if that happens."

Once he finished planting the first mine, he just covered it with mud. The mines are based on scientific technology. It doesn't have ether or Qi. Just pure antimatter energy. It can't be detected by ordinary senses.

He looked to the others. "Go. Be quick, be quiet. Then we rest."

As the others moved out into the forested edges of the valley, Mark stood still for a moment, alone again.

He stared at the soil beneath his feet, then toward the moonless sky above, and sighed. "O' Anan, what am I doing, just to save you?"

*

It was the dead of night—so quiet you could hear the breeze brushing against the treetops and the distant call of nocturnal beasts.

But high above the valley, slicing silently through the clouds, was a colossal flying boat, black-gold in color, shaped like a serpent with wings.

Over a thousand soldiers of the Feline Empire stood tightly packed across the deck—jaguar warriors, cheetah archers, saber-tooth berserkers, lion-shield guards—all dressed in cold war metal, faces set and feline eyes sharp.

At the helm, flanked by two towering generals, stood a lone figure clad in pale red robes.

From a distance, he looked human. Too human, in fact.

Short, clean shoulder-length blonde hair. Warm skin tone. A neutral expression that almost passed for serene.

But even among the feline elites, he radiated arrogance like the heat of the sun.

This was Prince Anan, the Golden Demon Kitten—biological son of the Demon Cat Empress, born in the mortal realm and raised by Mark himself before he was dragged back into the Empire.

His eyes glimmered with lazy superiority as he leaned against the rail, brushing a hand through his wind-ruffled robe.

To his right stood Panthera Leo King, a scar-faced warrior built like a siege tower, and on his left was Tigon Queen, a sinuous, amber-furred female general with piercing jade eyes and coiled muscle under her ornamental armor.

Without turning, Anan asked, "Status?"

A moment later, a blur of static appeared on the deck—a crackle of violet sparks, revealing the crouched form of the Lightning Leopard, the fastest scout in the legion.

He bowed. "Your Highness. I've scouted ahead. There are only five enemies in the valley below."

"Five?" Panthera Leo's eyes narrowed. "Only 5?"

The scout nodded. "Yes. And the Snow Wolf King is among them. As for the others, one is a newly advanced Transcendant, and three are Ascendants."

Anan scoffed, flicking his sleeves. "That's it? That's the mighty force that slaughtered General White's elite fleet?"

The Tigon Queen gave a frown. "Your Highness, the Snow Wolf King is still dangerous. We should…"

Anan cut her off with a smirk. "You're worried I'll get hurt? I've beaten second-stage Transcendants already. These mutts down there? I'll skin them with my eyes closed."

Neither general spoke, though both internally gritted their fangs.

"Tch… this brat really is her son."

"Same arrogance. Same madness. Same damn blood."

Below them, nestled in the valley, a faint orange glow shimmered—a bonfire crackling softly in the center of what looked like a small encampment.

Anan lifted his arm casually. "No need for games. Just blast the place to hell. I don't care if the Snow Wolf King is there or not."

The Tigon Queen blinked. "We're not capturing him?"

"I said burn it down."

But just as her hand lifted to signal the barrage, the Panthera Leo King suddenly froze.

His ears twitched. "Wait."

His nose flared. His pupils narrowed to slits. "everyone is gone… Hmm?"

His head snapped upward.

In the sky above, A small black dot hovered high against the stars. "There's something up there…" he pointed.

Before others raised their heads…

BOOM.

A soundless wave of pressure exploded downward, like a hammer dropped from orbit.

The massive flying boat—engraved with warding runes and floating by divine spirit tech—suddenly crashed into the valley at high speed. And then…

*Boom* Boom* Boom*

A chain of explosions was heard all over the valley, and a large crater was there. However, the flying boat seemed unharmed, but the barrier around it had heavy cracks.

Up above in the sky, the original Mark was seen floating, and his facial expression seemed ugly. "Damn it. They survived… I thought it was just a flying boat, just like the one with the White Lion King's fleet, didn't expect it to have defensive measures. The trap was failed."

Meanwhile, somewhere on the crater, a pagoda was seen half buried, completely unharmed by the explosion, And inside the pagoda, five of them were with Mark's lightning clone, standing on the first floor. The Battle Maids carry the guns and look at them.