Chapter Three: The Crimson Cloud Tiger

In front of the Northern Martial War God’s Mansion, lanterns and banners were festooned everywhere, the air thick with harmony and festivity. Yet, Xiao Ninth Prince stood before the gates, distinctly displeased. Only two stewards guarded the entrance, and piles of rare treasures stacked at the doors rose like small mountains.

What irked Xiao Ninth Prince was that, though the mansion was lavishly decorated to celebrate the triumphant return of Xiao Fifth Emperor, the gods and immortals had merely left their congratulatory gifts at the threshold. None entered to offer personal congratulations. With a frosty expression, Xiao Ninth Prince flicked his sleeve and strode toward the mansion, letting out a cold snort.

“Greetings, Your Highness,” the two stewards at the door hurried down the steps to greet him with utmost respect.

“No need for ceremony. Tell me: why is it that, though the War God’s mansion is celebrating Fifth Emperor’s victory today, the entrance is so deserted? These divine generals have witnessed his talent, yet still harbor such prejudice?” Xiao Ninth Prince waved dismissively.

He disliked ceremonial greetings. Though he always observed the celestial etiquette, he was not as pedantic as those stubborn old immortals. Now, what concerned him most was why the gods and divine generals only delivered gifts, refusing to step inside.

“Your Highness, you misunderstand,” one steward quickly realized why the prince’s expression was so cold. The other exchanged a glance with him and chuckled. This only deepened the prince’s confusion.

“A misunderstanding? You say I’m mistaken about the intentions of these immortals? Are you claiming someone barred them from entering?” His tone was incredulous.

Only moments ago, he had seen several divine generals leave their gifts at the gate and turn away without ever stepping inside. This was the source of his discontent.

“Your Highness, the reason those divine generals merely left their gifts at the door is because the War God gave strict orders: today, the mansion would not receive any immortals or divine generals. Earlier, a few immortals sought to pay their respects but were turned away by the War God himself. Hearing this, the later arrivals left their gifts and departed at once. It’s not that they were unwilling to enter, but rather that the War God refused all audiences.”

The steward explained with a wry smile. Outwardly, it might seem the gods still looked down upon Xiao Fifth Emperor, but in truth, their warm intentions were met with cold rejection—they had come to celebrate, but not one had crossed the threshold.

The two stewards were helpless. Only just assigned to manage the War God’s mansion, they had already managed to offend half the immortals by refusing them entry.

Xiao Ninth Prince paused, his expression softening into a gentle smile. He stepped inside the mansion. One steward, alarmed, nearly moved to block his path, but his companion stopped him with a shake of the head.

“What are you doing? The prince is going in! The War God ordered us not to admit any immortals. If we let him in, aren’t we asking for trouble?” the nervous steward, called Erha, protested.

“If you tried to bar the prince, that would be real trouble. We have neither the power nor the right. If the War God blames us, we must accept our fate. Under the roof of the gods, we must bow our heads,” Da Heng replied, releasing Erha and sighing as he watched the prince’s departing figure.

He and his younger brother Erha had only just been granted immortal status and assigned to serve under Xiao Fifth Emperor. It was a bitter assignment, and Erha’s eyes reddened with unshed tears as he watched the prince disappear inside, already anticipating the pain of the inevitable beating.

Xiao Ninth Prince overheard their exchange and couldn’t help but smile wryly. He resolved to confess everything upon entering, lest these fledgling immortals truly suffer his brother’s wrath.

At the threshold of the main hall, he gazed into the empty chamber, sensing a familiar aura. Guided by this feeling, he strode into the rear garden, where at last he saw his younger brother, Xiao Fifth Emperor, and the fairy Qing Tian, whom he longed for day and night.

Yet the scene before him was the last he wished to witness. His brother sprawled on a vine chair, while the fairy Qing Tian sat beside him, peeling celestial fruits and feeding them to Xiao Fifth Emperor, who greedily accepted each bite.

Coughing deliberately, Xiao Ninth Prince looked on, both envious and indignant—indignant that his own brother would meet privately with Qing Tian behind his back.

But his feelings were conflicted; he could not even convince himself he had reason to be angry. Unable to watch any longer, he cleared his throat, breaking the intimate tableau.

Qing Tian looked up, startled, hastily wiping the juice from her delicate hands before approaching and bowing to him.

“Greetings, Your Highness,” she said. He smiled gently, helping her to stand. She quickly withdrew her hands from his, a blush coloring her cheeks. Xiao Ninth Prince’s smile was tinged with bitterness.

Qing Tian could jest and play with his brother, oblivious to their differing ranks, but with him she was always so formal. To him, it seemed clear that in Qing Tian’s heart, he and his brother held very different places.

Forcing a smile, he approached Xiao Fifth Emperor. Since his arrival, his brother hadn’t even turned to look at him, instead preoccupied with a plump, crimson cat in his arms.

The fat cat, nestled against his chest, batted playfully at the red tassel swaying above. Soon, its pudgy paw landed on his chest, and, letting out a faint red breath, it collapsed limply against him, scarlet eyes closed.

“Fifth Emperor, thank you for saving me,” Xiao Ninth Prince said gently, sincerity in his voice. Setting aside other matters, he bore no real grievances against his brother.

During the great war with the demons, he’d nearly fallen into a deadly trap, only to be rescued by his brother’s daring intervention. Though his brother’s closeness with Qing Tian irked him, he was not one to conflate separate matters.

“No need for thanks. Saving you was only natural,” replied Xiao Fifth Emperor, patting the limp cat. The creature opened its crimson eyes, exhaled a puff of red air at him, then leapt into Qing Tian’s embrace.

Xiao Fifth Emperor’s face darkened as Qing Tian and Xiao Ninth Prince struggled to hold back laughter. He coughed, wiped the smudge from his cheek, and glared at the cat, who whimpered and curled into a ball against Qing Tian’s chest. Silently, he vowed to settle the score with the beast.

“Ninth Prince, what do you think of my War God’s Mansion?” Xiao Fifth Emperor gestured at the towering golden palace before them. In many ways, the two brothers were alike.

Yet the greatest distinction lay in their bearing. Righteousness shone in Xiao Ninth Prince’s brow; his thick, resolute brows and pale golden eyes gave him a warm, approachable aura. Xiao Fifth Emperor, by contrast, exuded a purple mist from his refined brows, his violet eyes layered and inscrutable. His presence was elegant but tinged with coldness, inviting yet daunting.

“Your mansion is a marvel—gilded glass towers reaching the clouds, crimson Buddhist walls humming with tranquil chants, white jade reliefs, golden-red bridges, celestial pools, and countless rare creatures at rest. The main hall holds the array of the previous War God. Few places in the divine realm can compare. Such an imposing aura—no wonder only a War God may dwell here. Only one with your spirit could withstand this place and even benefit from it.”

As he spoke, Xiao Ninth Prince felt the mansion’s aura resisting him—it would only allow those truly recognized by heaven to dwell here, promising great progress in the path of cultivation.

His praise was sincere, without exaggeration. Xiao Fifth Emperor nodded; his own first impression had been similar, yet he also sensed a wild, ambitious energy suppressed within the palace.

“If my brother speaks truly, then witness once more the secrets of this divine hall,” Xiao Fifth Emperor said. He approached Qing Tian, took the fat cat from her arms, and set it on the ground. Channeling his power, a surge of purple mist was greedily absorbed by the cat.

He gestured for Xiao Ninth Prince to stand back. Before their eyes, the cat’s body swelled, flames flickering along its form, crimson eyes blazing like shattered stars.

Xiao Ninth Prince was astounded—this was no longer the chubby, adorable feline from before, but a monstrous beast, fierce and mighty. As the beast let out a thunderous roar, its front paw crashed to the ground, and the prince felt his own aura thrown into chaos.

“Fifth Emperor, could this creature be the Red Cloud Tiger cub, the demon realm’s guardian beast?” he asked, shielding Qing Tian and his brother with his power, his face full of shock.

He had long heard that Xiao Fifth Emperor had been gifted a Red Cloud Tiger cub, a rare ancient beast that, with ten thousand years of cultivation, could produce the Red Cloud Pellet—also known as the Fire Relic. When Xiao Fifth Emperor nodded, he turned his attention to the beast, now roaring at the palace.

According to the Celestial Beast Compendium, even a young Red Cloud Tiger would already show its true form. Yet moments before, this had been nothing but a lazy, fat housecat. With confusion, he hastened his power to shield his companions.

Chaotic energies battered his defenses. In the midst of this, a golden light flashed in his eyes; beside him, Xiao Fifth Emperor noted with interest that his brother seemed on the verge of a breakthrough.