When the Toad King arrived at the testing ground, he found nearly a thousand spectators had gathered.

The main attractions — Yueyang and the Death Reaper Mantis — were nowhere to be seen.

He found this puzzling. Had the kid failed? Already left to go find a replacement war beast? The boy was arrogant enough to casually challenge a Difficult-rank test, so if he hadn’t failed, that would’ve been the real surprise. At that thought, the great stone of dread the Toad King had been carrying in his chest finally settled. If that kid somehow succeeded, not only the security-obsessed Lion King — content to rule his corner of Beast Valley in peace — but the Eagle King, the Human-Faced Tiger, and even the perpetually suspicious Poison Wasp King would all likely throw their weight behind him. Which meant they’d be perfectly happy to kick the Toad King while he was down.

“Which round did the kid fail on?” The Toad King found his subordinate, the Lightning Lizard, and asked with practiced indifference.

“The tenth…” The Lightning Lizard’s voice was trembling.

“Come again? He made it all the way to the tenth round before failing? Ha! I always said he’d fail — no one has ever beaten the Difficult-rank test, not once in all of history. What makes that wet-behind-the-ears brat think he’s special enough to strut around like that?” On the surface the Toad King sneered. Inwardly, his stomach had dropped through the floor.

“No — no, that’s not it.” The Lightning Lizard swallowed hard, stole a glance up at the Toad King, and said very quietly: “What I meant was… he cleared all ten rounds.”

“All ten? Impossible!” The Toad King was stunned. He genuinely could not trust his own ears.

“I saw it with my own eyes, my lord. I wouldn’t dare deceive you. Everyone here saw it.” The Lightning Lizard had already quietly shifted its feet into a running stance.

“Not only that — he did it in under an hour.” The Lion King’s subordinate, the Bobtail Cat, added helpfully.

“If I’d known back in the day that clearing all ten rounds earned a top-grade Sacred Wisdom Fruit as the prize, I’d have thrown myself at that test and damn the consequences.” Old Baboon Longwhisker muttered wistfully to himself. These days, even if he wanted to try, he had long since forfeited his eligibility.

Only newcomers could take the test. Or residents who had failed a challenge and retained their human form. For those whose war beasts had died and who had since become beast-people — all they could do was seethe with envy. Once you became a beast, you never got another shot.

The Toad King caught that last part and felt something go wrong.

Sacred Wisdom Fruit?

What in blazes was that? How had he never heard of it?

Old Baboon Longwhisker immediately assumed the bearing of a legendary sage of unfathomable wisdom. He stroked his beard, thumped his walking stick against the ground a few times, took several ponderous steps, and cleared his throat meaningfully. It was a shame nobody played along by rushing over with tea or wine — it would have done wonders for the atmosphere. The Toad King was so annoyed he nearly combusted on the spot. What are you preening for, right in front of me? If it weren’t for the Lion King’s shadow, I’d swat you flat — or just eat you whole.

With nearly a thousand beast-people and residents watching, Old Baboon Longwhisker held court:

“The Sacred Wisdom Fruit is an exceptionally rare treasure of the celestial realm — a prize among prizes. It simply does not exist down here in the lower world. You would need to ascend to the upper heavens, to the blessed sanctuaries where the highest beings dwell closest to the divine, to find such a supreme treasure.”

The moment he said it, every beast-person and resident in the crowd gazed at him with open reverence. Several broke into spontaneous applause.

So that was a Sacred Wisdom Fruit?

No wonder it had looked different from an ordinary Wisdom Fruit.

Someone quietly asked: just how powerful was this Sacred Wisdom Fruit, exactly?

Everyone had seen Yueyang receive the prize just now, but the Lion King, Eagle King, Human-Faced Tiger, and Poison Wasp King had all been visibly interested in cultivating him — none of them would dare step up and rob him. More importantly, every single one of them was terrified of Yueyang’s Pandora’s Box. That thing was not something you trifled with.

Old Baboon Longwhisker milked every last drop of the spotlight, surveyed the crowd with satisfaction, and pronounced:

“The Sacred Wisdom Fruit — as its name suggests — is a supreme celestial treasure. Its potency makes an ordinary Wisdom Fruit look like a pebble next to a mountain. By all accounts, a war beast with no intelligence at all can eat one and awaken its mind. A beast of basic intelligence will immediately leap to advanced intelligence. An advanced beast will gradually ascend toward the Quasi-Sacred threshold. And it’s said that in the upper heavens, certain Quasi-Sacred beasts — those who have exhausted every other avenue of growth and simply cannot break through to Sacred rank on their own — will stop at nothing to obtain one. A single Sacred Wisdom Fruit, even for a Quasi-Sacred beast that has hit an absolute wall, can shatter the mental barrier and open the door to true enlightenment — granting the breakthrough to Sacred rank!”

Hsssss.

Every last spectator drew in a long, shuddering breath, desperately trying to reclaim their composure. There was no pretending this didn’t move them. Even the most ascetic soul alive would have drooled at a prize like this.

The Toad King’s mouth was not so much watering as it was flooding.

Splash.

A small puddle formed at his feet.

“What if a Sacred Beast eats one?” someone ventured. “What happens then?”

“Heh heh!” Old Baboon Longwhisker looked as if he were single-handedly reshaping the fate of the world: “If a Sacred Beast eats one — that’s even more extraordinary. The higher the intelligence of the beast, the greater the benefit from a Sacred Wisdom Fruit. This is the complete opposite of how ordinary Wisdom Fruits work.”

“Are you saying a Sacred Beast who eats one… has a real chance of becoming a Divine Beast?”

The voice asking the question was shaking with barely-contained excitement.

“Heh heh — the chance… is quite substantial.” Old Baboon Longwhisker let those words land.

The crowd erupted.

If that tiny Sacred Beast really ate the Sacred Wisdom Fruit… didn’t that mean Beast Valley might be about to produce a Divine Beast? And if a Divine Beast was born here, could things possibly stay as they were? Every creature that had ever crossed that freakish newcomer, every one that had plotted to have the little one killed — they would all pay a devastating price.

Every eye in the crowd now drifted toward the Toad King.

The looks on their faces were the looks you give a plague god who is very visibly about to have a terrible day.

One by one, as if by instinct, they stepped back. Better not to be too close when divine retribution decided to pay a visit. Even the Lightning Lizard edged away from its own master — not only because the Toad King tended to eat people when he lost his temper, but because bad luck, everyone knew, was contagious. Especially with that freak newcomer involved. His specialty was curses. His signature move was tormenting people with Calamity god-force. Who was to say the Toad King hadn’t already been marked?

The Toad King’s expression looked like a man who had been constipated for a month.

He swept his gaze around.

Everyone was watching him warily, bracing themselves for an explosion.

Instead, the Toad King suddenly burst out laughing — that grinding, hideous cackle of his sent every beast and resident scrambling back another three steps.

“Pfah! You think a pathetic Sky-rank tier-two war beast is enough to scare me? So what if it’s a Sacred Beast? Did I not have Sacred Beasts among my forces back in the day? If that Blazing Battle Soul hadn’t scorched my Sky Toad Demon to ash, would I ever have been reduced to this ugly shell? But even like this, I stand above every last one of you weaklings! Apart from the Lion King and the residents’ top commander Darius — who here dares call themselves my equal?” He threw his head back and howled at the sky, his enormous belly heaving with each peal of laughter. “Watch, all of you miserable creatures — watch me show you exactly what becomes of your precious ‘Sacred Beast,’ your so-called future Divine Beast. Whatever becomes of it will be waste. If there’s to be a Divine Beast in Beast Valley, it will be me!“

“My lord…” The Lightning Lizard spoke up very, very gently. “You’re already a beast-person.”

The reminder hung in the air. The daydream was over. Beast-people had no eligibility to take the test, let alone clear all ten rounds and claim a Sacred Wisdom Fruit.

“You all think that’s the end of it, do you?” The Toad King’s laughter turned feverish.

His grotesque body gave a sudden shudder.

From the dense, warty nodules covering every inch of his skin, a foul-smelling slime began to seep.

Then, from the venom sac behind his eye — a naked man came clawing his way out through the white toxin, his face twisted in a vicious grin as he looked down at the surrounding beasts, every one of them gaping.

Unbelievable. The Toad King was still a resident — not a beast-person at all.

For thousands of years, he had fooled everyone.

He had been a resident capable of fighting as one with his war beast, all along.

The Lightning Lizard was shaking with something between terror and amazement. “My lord — you’re actually a resident? Then why didn’t you become leader of the residents? Why compete to be Beast King?”

The naked man gave a cold laugh. “Don’t be dense. My war beast only died once — of course I’m still a resident. As for why Beast King and not residents’ leader: simple. First, there are too few residents, and most of them already follow someone — I couldn’t have recruited many. Second, the Eagle King and the Human-Faced Tiger were struggling to stand up to the Lion King on their own. My arrival was exactly what they needed.”

Old Baboon Longwhisker pushed through the crowd. “Even as a resident, what does it matter? Even if you can fight in sync with your war beast, you’re still guiding it by instinct — your toad’s intelligence is a ceiling, and no amount of raw strength compensates for that. Strong as you are, are you stronger than the Lion King? Without wisdom, you will never leave Beast Valley.”

The naked man listened, then tilted his head back and laughed again.

He pointed one finger at Old Baboon Longwhisker and said coldly: “Get out of my way, old ghost. Right now I’m going to show you all what a truly magnificent plan looks like.”

A hawk-headed beast-person came sprinting to the naked man’s side and dropped reverently to its knees.

Before the entire crowd, that hawk-headed creature gouged out one of its own eyes with its bare hands, held back a scream, and offered the eyeball up.

The naked man asked: “You’re certain your Eagle Eye completely copied the boy’s movements?”

The hawk-head answered respectfully: “An exact replica. Not a single detail missing.”

The naked man laughed, bored a bleeding hole in his own forehead, and pressed the eyeball into it. Countless white tendrils of slime and fleshy rootlets crawled out from the wound, binding everything in place, threading themselves through the transplanted eye — within seconds, it was sealed, fused, complete. The naked man crowed with triumph: “I’ve been waiting thousands of years for this moment. Sacred Wisdom Fruit or ordinary Wisdom Fruit — doesn’t matter. Both of them are mine now!”

The crowd was beginning to understand.

The Toad King had planned this from the very beginning.

No matter how the test went, he came out ahead. If it failed, the challenger would be badly weakened and no longer a real threat — likely still doomed to fall to his schemes in the end. If it succeeded — as it had — the Toad King lost nothing, while his hawk-head’s Eagle Eye had just copied every technique behind that success. The Sacred Wisdom Fruit was essentially already in his hands.

If the Toad King actually obtained the Sacred Wisdom Fruit… Beast Valley was finished. Blood and bodies, wall to wall.

The naked man flicked his hand.

The enormous toad leapt onto the catapult launcher and immediately shrank under the pressure of Law energy, condensing into a War Beast Cannonball.

Drawing on the Eagle Eye’s perfect copy of Yueyang’s firing angle and technique, the naked man launched the toad cannonball with a flourish — an effortless, immaculate shot.

BOOM.

The first shot was a success. A clean, complete success.

Identical to Yueyang’s earlier launch, down to the last detail.

When the toad was transmitted back into the naked man’s waiting hands, less than a minute had passed.

The watching beasts and residents stared at each other. That Eagle Eye really could perfectly duplicate anything?

“With a successful precedent now established, Sacred Wisdom Fruit — prepare yourself to be eaten by me! AHAHAHAHA!” The naked man crowed insufferably.

The Lightning Lizard wanted to point out that no matter how precious the Sacred Wisdom Fruit was, it was designed for war beasts — a human eating it would almost certainly turn into a vegetable. But it wasn’t about to step forward and correct the grammatical implications of that boast right now. It retreated to a corner and quietly waited to see how things developed.

Fwooosh.

The second toad cannonball shot out — angle, force, and technique a perfect mirror of Yueyang’s earlier launch of the Death Reaper Mantis.

BOOM.

Just as the crowd was bracing themselves in weary resignation, already half-turning to leave, unable to watch —

The Bobtail Cat suddenly shrieked: “Wait — wait, something’s wrong! The support log snapped, but the base landed at the wrong point — the lean on the third tower is slightly off — and the most important thing — the middle tower spire came down, but the spear on the first tower didn’t break! The little pig is still alive! It failed — the supposedly flawless copy — it failed!“

Everyone looked up. Sure enough.

The spear hadn’t fully snapped. It had barely nicked the tower spire — just enough to redirect it.

The middle spire changed trajectory, crashed into the ground, and sent fragments spraying outward. One large chunk of stone struck the Law-light orb containing the toad.

The toad’s orb began to roll. Slowly, inexorably, it trundled toward the edge — toward the lava pool.

“No — no, stop — STOP!” The naked man was losing his mind. He willed it to halt with every fiber of his being, but reality was merciless — all he wanted to do was vault into the testing ground and drag that toad back with his own hands before it could die. He couldn’t begin to understand how the movements had been absolutely identical and yet he had failed — how the kid had succeeded. He had already accepted the failure. What he desperately needed now was for the toad not to fall into the pool. If it died, the toad would have only one life remaining. If the Lion King, Eagle King, Human-Faced Tiger, and Poison Wasp King all united against him afterward, he would become a true beast-person.

And then he truly, permanently, could never leave Beast Valley.

He might not even survive at all.

“No, no, NO!” The naked man screamed himself hoarse — and whether through sheer fortune or some other force entirely, the toad’s orb rolled right to the very lip of the lava pool. A hairsbreadth away.

And stopped.

It could not have been more terrifying.

But it hadn’t gone in.

The crowd of beasts let out a collective groan of profound disappointment. So close. So agonizingly, frustratingly close.

It was the Bobtail Cat again — sharp eyes, no mercy — who jabbed a paw toward the testing ground and screamed: “Look! The spire shattered — the stone chunk is still rolling — it’s rolling toward the toad — it’s heading right for it—”

“Come on, roll! Hit it! Knock that filthy toad in!” Under normal circumstances no one would ever dare shout something like that within earshot of the Toad King. But everyone had completely lost their heads with excitement, leaping and thrashing like they’d been injected with pure adrenaline, every last one of them wanting desperately to dive in there, deliver one good solid kick, help that stone along, and send the toad perched on the lava pool’s edge toppling in to meet its end.

“No — please — close call, close call!” The naked man watched the stone slow down and grind to a halt right beside the orb — not touching it, not quite — and nearly wept with relief, both hands frantically mopping at the cold sweat pouring down his face.

KRRRUMBLE.

The third tower, already leaning against the collapsed middle tower, slipped further down.

The spears intended to intercept War Beast Cannonballs snapped one after another. One of them, by sheer chance, skipped across the stone’s edge — on impact, the stone lurched into rapid motion, skimming past the edge of the toad’s orb.

Before the eyes of everyone present, the toad’s orb wobbled. Once, twice — then slowly, agonizingly, began to tilt. Inch by inch, it leaned toward the roiling, superheated lava below. No amount of frantic thrashing from the toad inside made any difference. No amount of the naked man savagely pounding and kicking the catapult launcher made any difference. Nothing could reverse the toad’s fate now.

The beasts erupted in a cheer that rivaled the celebration of a decisive victory in a great war.

The Bobtail Cat broke into an impromptu wiggling dance.

Congratulations, congratulations…

The entire crowd broke into the song traditionally sung at a Beast King’s coronation. At this particular moment, directed at this particular person, it landed with magnificent, crystalline irony.

Old Baboon Longwhisker stroked his beard with one hand and assumed the tone of a wise elder dispensing a final lesson to a foolish student:

“The same method does not work equally in everyone’s hands. And do you want to know why he succeeded where you failed? Because he had a Sacred Beast. And you — had a toad. His Sacred Beast understood how to cooperate. Your toad was a complete idiot. Some things, my friend, are simply destined. What isn’t yours to claim — no matter how hard you reach for it — was never going to be yours.”

The Toad King trembled so violently with rage that he was nearly vomiting blood.

At that moment, what he most wanted in the entire world was to find a block of tofu and ram his head straight into it until he ceased to exist.