The moment where Bao Bao truly understands that someone wants him dead… and that the rebellion is not what it seems.
Bao Bao Hamato rode at the head of his small escort — ten elite Sun Guards — as they entered the narrow ridge leading toward Mountain-Fang territory.
The path wound between two massive cliffs, walls of dark granite rising high enough to blot out the sun.
Raijin's warning echoed in his mind:
> "If Barok truly rebelled, the mountains will not let you pass unchallenged."
Bao Bao tightened the reins.
The wind whispered strangely.
No birds.
No mountain goats.
Not even the distant howl of cave-wolves.
Too quiet.
Rana had taught him once:
> "A mountain that is silent is a mountain preparing to strike."
Bao Bao's flame flickered faintly around his knuckles.
Something was wrong.
Halfway through the pass, Sun Guard Captain Veylara slowed her horse.
"Your Majesty," she whispered, "the stones feel… watched."
Bao Bao nodded.
He could feel it too — the faint pressure in the air, like a held breath.
A presence that didn't belong.
"Keep moving," Bao Bao whispered. "But stay alert."
They continued.
But then—
A pebble fell.
Then another.
Then twenty.
Veylara's eyes widened.
"That's not normal rockfall…"
Before she finished, Bao Bao shouted:
"SHIELDS!"
The Sun Guards raised their iron-plated shields just as—
A rain of boulders and broken stone crashed down from above.
Not enough to kill, but enough to trap.
Block.
Divide.
A tactic.
Bao Bao recognized it immediately.
"Mountain-Fang doesn't fight like this…" he muttered.
"No honor-clan uses traps made for outsiders."
He felt the truth stirring.
This wasn't a rebellion ambush.
This was assassination.
Figures stepped from behind the rocks above — a dozen silhouettes, masked and wrapped in mountain cloaks.
Veylara whispered:
"Mountain-Fang scouts…? But something's wrong…"
Bao Bao agreed.
Mountain-Fang warriors wore carved stone armor.
These wore mismatched gear, stolen pieces from half a dozen clans — Rana boots, Saru gauntlets, Ember-Eye fur collars.
And most alarming:
Not one of them wore a clan insignia.
They were pretending.
A voice echoed from the cliffs:
"Sun-King Bao Bao Hamato… You should not have left your palace."
Bao Bao's eyes narrowed.
"Show yourself."
A hooded figure stepped into view.
The same one who whispered rebellion into Barok's ear.
But their voice was different this time… colder.
"You were supposed to stay in the palace, surrounded by fear.
You were not supposed to come here."
Bao Bao raised his chin.
"You hide your face and stir clans into war — why?"
The hooded figure chuckled.
"Because Firelonia is more dangerous united under one flame than divided into many."
Bao Bao's flame ignited around his steps.
"You tried to kill me with rocks."
"No," the hooded figure replied.
"We're going to kill your symbol."
The ambushers leapt down the cliffs, moving with speed far beyond normal warriors.
Their movements were coordinated — too coordinated.
Not like rebels.
Like trained assassins.
Bao Bao stepped forward.
"No blood needs to be spilled today!"
The lead attacker charged anyway.
Bao Bao dodged, using non-lethal flame bursts, stunning rather than harming.
The ambushers moved unpredictably, but they did not strike to kill.
They struck to separate.
Veylara shouted:
"They're pushing you toward the cliff! They want you isolated!"
Bao Bao realized she was right.
They weren't trying to defeat him here.
They were trying to force him into position.
Into a trap.
From the cliff above, the hooded figure lifted a strange metallic device — not clan-made.
Not volcanic-forged.
Something older.
A cylinder of twisted metal and insignias scraped off.
Veylara gasped.
"That's an Ash-Era weapon!"
Ancient tech.
Lost tech.
Forbidden tech.
Bao Bao's heart dropped.
"No… Those weapons were destroyed centuries ago…"
The hooded figure smiled.
"Oh, Bao Bao… you still believe what the clans told you."
They pointed the weapon at the Sun-King.
A humming sound filled the air — low, vibrating, unnatural.
Bao Bao braced himself.
But instead of firing—
The weapon sent a pulse through the ground.
A concussive force.
It struck the cliff wall.
CRACK.
The entire ridge shook.
A giant stone slab broke free — rolling down the cliff toward Bao Bao.
He didn't hesitate.
He grabbed Veylara and leaped aside, flames cushioning their landing.
But this was exactly what the attackers wanted.
The blast had separated Bao Bao from his guards completely.
The king stood alone.
The hooded figure leaped down silently, landing with unnatural grace.
"Bao Bao Hamato.
The clans think they will kill you one day.
But it will not be the clans."
They circled him slowly.
"It will be us."
Bao Bao steadied his breathing.
"What are you?"
The figure paused.
Then lifted their hood slightly — revealing a mask made of sun-metal, cracked and ancient.
Not a clan symbol.
An order symbol.
A forbidden one.
"The world forgot our name," the figure whispered.
"But we did not forget our purpose."
They leaned closer.
"We are the Umbra Concalve."
The word hit Bao Bao like a blow.
Long ago, the Umbra Concalve were a cult that nearly destroyed Firelonia.
The "Shadow of the Sun."
The ones who believed the Sun Throne should be empty — forever.
Rumored extinct.
But not extinct.
Just hiding.
Bao Bao whispered:
"You… manipulated Barok… sabotaged the records… lit the prophecy runes…"
"Yes," the figure answered softly.
"Because a united Firelonia threatens our mission."
They raised the Ash-Era device again.
"And so the Sun-King dies here."
The device hummed louder.
Bao Bao stood tall.
"If you wanted a frightened king, you chose the wrong man."
He slammed his foot into the ground — flame erupting around him.
A protective shockwave rippled outward.
The hooded figure leaped back, but the device glowed brighter.
Veylara screamed from across the rocks:
"YOUR MAJESTY, RUN!"
But Bao Bao didn't run.
He stepped forward.
"I will not die here.
I will not abandon my people.
And I will not let shadows rule the world again."
Flames flared around him — bright, golden, powerful.
The hooded figure hesitated.
"What… is this…?"
Bao Bao didn't answer.
Because even he didn't know—
—but the flame was changing.
Glowing hotter.
Brighter.
Almost… white.
A sign of the Returning Flame prophecy.
The hooded figure, suddenly unsure, activated the device's failsafe.
A blinding flash.
A pulse of force.
Not lethal — but disorienting.
When the dust settled—
The figure was gone.
The false rebels were gone.
Only shattered rock and stunned Sun Guards remained.
Veylara rushed to Bao Bao's side.
"Your Majesty—are you–"
"I'm fine," Bao Bao said, though his chest hurt.
His fire still glowed strangely pale.
He stared at the ruined pass.
"At least I have proof. They weren't Mountain-Fang.
This rebellion… it's all a lie."
Veylara nodded.
"And now we know who's behind it."
Bao Bao whispered the name:
"The Umbra Concalve"
The name felt like ice.
This was no longer a clan problem.
This was a war in the shadows.
And Firelonia had no idea.
Bao Bao looked at the distant mountains.
"Barok may be a rebel…
…but he is not the enemy."
He clenched his fists.
"We are fighting something far older."
The wind blew through the pass.
Carrying with it the whisper of prophecy.
> The returning flame decides its fate…
And Bao Bao felt the truth:
This ambush was only the beginning.