Chapter 72.1

The dazzling white light enveloped the Mirror Island, obliterating all that stood in its path. The trees, the flowers, the very ground itself was consumed by the brilliant glow.

The air itself seemed to crackle with energy, and the sound of the ocean waves was drowned out by the deafening roar of the light.

For a long time, the light persisted, bathing the world in its blinding radiance. Then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, it was gone. The world was left silent and still, as if it had been holding its breath.

When the light faded, the Mirror Island was gone. In its place was a vast crater, filled with smoking rubble. The buffer zone that had once been used by the gods to repair their mistakes was no more.

The last extraordinary place left by the gods in the world had been completely destroyed.

As the Mirror Island began to fade, a great wave of light poured forth from its shores. The light was a myriad of colors, from the palest yellow to the deepest indigo.

As it flowed through the air, it seemed to coalesce into shapes, forming creatures of myth and legend.

At the forefront of the wave was a giant bird, its wings ablaze with golden-red flame. The bird's cry pierced the silence, and its wake was followed by a procession of other creatures.

There were two intertwined witch snakes, a golden flying deer, a long-toothed bear, a pine thylacine, and many others. In all, there were one hundred and twenty-six creatures, each more wondrous than the last.

The creatures soared through the air, their forms limned in light. They were like a flock of migrating birds, bound for some unknown destination. As they flew, they seemed to leave a trail of stardust in their wake.

The creatures of light carried the survivors of the Mirror Island down the inverted waves, spiraling thousands of times before finally emerging onto the surface of the sea.

When these godheads gathered together, their radiance was so bright that their outlines could not be seen clearly. They were like a streamer of clouds, blown across the land by a gentle wind.

They swept across the south coast, passed through the dense forests of Andorha, and slid across the valley of Bass. They visited all the places they had missed, and finally reached the snowy peaks of the ice fields in the far north.

Their passage was like a breath of fresh air for the survivors of the Mirror Island.

The mountain stood alone, its peak shrouded in snow and frost. It was not majestic, but it had a sense of loneliness. It seemed to be the most silent watchman in the whole world, standing guard over the remotest reaches of the earth.

In the days before the earth's crust had changed, when thousands of years of ups and downs, collapses, and aggregations had not yet occurred, this mountain was much higher than it is now. It had another name then: Holy Mountain.

The pure white divine light climbed up the foot of the mountain, slowly winding its way to the top of the snow peak. The light was like a gentle breeze, caressing the mountain's craggy slopes.

On the summit of the mountain, they stood side by side, overlooking the land for the last time. Their forms were blurred, as if they were made of mist.

The golden-red flame that had once burned so brightly in the eyes of everyone was now extinguished, and the dazzling white light that had surrounded the whole earth had become warm and shallow.

The little lion cub lay on the ground in the woodland outside Bass Valley, blinking in confusion. He couldn't remember where he was or how he had gotten there.

The last thing he remembered was being entangled by snake-like vines and sucked into...jerky?

Fuck! He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts.

The boy woke up with a start, his heart pounding in his chest. He had been dreaming of his father, who was as tall as a mountain.

In the dream, his father had rubbed his head, picked him up like a puppy, and put him on his shoulders. They had walked through the mild morning light, and the boy had felt safe and loved.

Ben opened his eyes and sat up, only to realize that he was no longer in the form of a beast. He had reverted to his human form, presumably because Betan Day had finally passed.

He lowered his head and pawed at every part of his body, his fur rustling in the wind. He confirmed that his skin and flesh were still alive and elastic, and he let out a long sigh of relief.

But before he had even finished exhaling, he was shocked again. He slowly remembered what had happened before he had been entangled by the cane, although his memories were hazy.

He remembered that he and his clan had fought a very tragic battle against the sand ghosts, and many people had died. The screams of his friends,

the pain, the fear, the desperation and the feel of the blade slicing through his flesh.

Ben stood up abruptly, his heart pounding. He had just remembered the battle, and many people who had died.

He remembered Shaw, his best friend, and Dan.

He rushed towards the two beasts that were lying not far away. Ben's heart skipped a beat as he saw Xiao and Dan lying on the ground.

He had seen them both die in the battle, and he had been sure that they were gone. But now, here they were, alive and well.

His eyes scanning their bodies for injuries. He saw that their hands and feet were still crippled, but their other wounds had healed. They were both alive, and that was all that mattered.

He knelt down beside them and gently touched their faces. They were both pale and weak, but they were breathing.

They were sprawled on their backs, their limbs askew. If it weren't for the frowns on their faces and the withered state of their legs and feet, Ben might have suspected that he was dreaming.

"I'm so glad you're okay," he said. "I thought I'd lost you."

Ben scratched his chin, still a little unsure. He reached out and gestured at Dan's body, picking a spot around his waist that looked like it would hurt the most. He twisted hard.

Dan let out a loud cry, closing his eyes and frowning. He slapped Ben's paw away like a mosquito.

"It hurts, it's not a dream!" the impish boy thought with satisfaction.