The journey to Nhlangano began before dawn.
Dozens of military trucks rumbled along the cracked asphalt, their engines echoing through the quiet hills of southern Eswatini.
Sbu sat in the back of one, his knife resting across his knees. His eyes were half-closed — not asleep, but listening.
Lungelo's lazy drawl broke the silence.
> "You ever notice how road trips always make humans quiet? You'd think with death crawling around every corner, someone would at least sing."
Sbu groaned. "You're too cheerful for a ghost."
> "Spirit. Majestic guardian spirit. Please use the proper title."
Sbu smirked despite himself. "Right, majestic guardian spirit. What now?"
The lion grinned, eyes gleaming faintly with gold.
> "The ancestors sent a message. They say it's time you learn to use what's inside you — your light."
Sbu straightened. "Light… like attacks?"
> "No, like light. You can bend it, shape it, reflect it. But don't get excited — it's not easy. You're still a newbie."
He gestured lazily, and a faint shimmer appeared over his paw. The air rippled, blurring the lion's outline.
> "See that? That's bending light. Makes me invisible from one side. You? You'll probably blind yourself."
Sbu sighed. "Encouraging as always."
> "I live to motivate."
---
The trucks bounced along rough terrain as the day dragged on. Every stop, every rest, Lungelo pushed him to practice.
At first, Sbu couldn't even get a spark to respond. His attempts just made his eyes sting and his vision flash white.
> "Careful, genius," Lungelo said, tail flicking. "You're not supposed to stare into the light."
> "You didn't tell me that part!"
> "Details. You'll live."
By the second day, he started seeing faint glimmers when he focused his qi into his fingertips — a soft halo that shimmered before fading away. It wasn't much, but it was something.
The soldiers noticed him meditating during stops, and some began whispering. He ignored them. He had more important things to worry about — like surviving the next week.
---
When they finally reached Nhlangano, the once-busy town was quiet.
Shattered windows, abandoned stalls, and faint claw marks on the walls told them everything they needed to know.
Sbu's squad spread out, calling for survivors. Families emerged cautiously — tired, dirty, but alive.
By nightfall, they had over two hundred civilians gathered, ready to move north.
Just as they were about to leave, the air shifted.
The ground trembled.
From the southern ridge, five massive shadows emerged — tier 1 beasts, each the size of a bus. Their roars shook the earth.
"Positions!" Sbu shouted, drawing his knife. The soldiers panicked, firing bullets that barely scratched the monsters' hides.
Lungelo appeared beside him, tail flicking.
> "Showtime, Light Boy. Try not to die this time."
Sbu's qi surged. He didn't think — he moved.
He ducked beneath a claw swipe, rolled forward, and sliced upward — qi-infused knife gleaming with faint gold light. His strikes were precise, learned from countless drills in the camp.
One beast lunged — he sidestepped, driving his blade into its neck and channeling qi until the creature convulsed and collapsed.
Another tried to flank — Sbu's reflexes kicked in. He twisted, light flickering around him, and in a blur of movement, vanished from sight for half a second. The beast froze, confused — then screamed as his blade tore through its eye.
The soldiers stared in shock. By the time the fifth monster fell, silence filled the valley once again.
Sbu stood panting, his arm bleeding, knife slick with black blood.
Banele broke the silence. "You… you took them all down alone."
Sbu shook his head. "No. We took them down. I just handled the messy part."
The squad started laughing — partly from relief, partly from awe.
Then one soldier stepped forward.
"Sir… could you teach us how to fight like that? With qi?"
Sbu hesitated. Lungelo smirked.
> "Well, look at you — teacher already. Told you I motivate people."
Sbu sighed, wiping his blade clean.
"Alright," he said quietly. "Tomorrow morning, training begins. If the beasts want to keep coming… we'll make sure we hit back harder."
The soldiers cheered, and for the first time in days, hope flickered through the camp.
Somewhere above, the moonlight shimmered faintly — and Lungelo's grin widened.
> "Not bad, kid. Not bad at all."
---