Rain fell.
Not the gentle kind, but a storm that battered leaves, split branches, and turned soil into sucking mud. It howled like beasts in mourning, drowning even the loudest roars of the jungle.
And still, the work did not stop.
Under the shadows of towering banyan trees, beneath canopies choked with vines and mist, a small army toiled. Tigers dragged logs. Boars pounded clay. Wolves reinforced timber with woven reeds. Birds circled high above, calling out directions in whistles that meant "drop here," or "enemy sighted," or "safe to rest."
In the center of it all stood Chu Fang, soaked, grim, but burning with relentless focus.
It had been two weeks since the duel at the Trial Mound.
Two weeks since Ravar had walked away — not defeated, but displaced.
Two weeks since Raiya joined the cause.
Now, the tiger who had nothing was building everything.
A home.
A kingdom.
A future.
"You're insane," Raiya muttered, watching the mud-thick ground being paved with packed stone and clay. "You've brought beasts that hate each other, forced them to sleep beside one another, and now you want them to build a city."
Chu Fang smiled without turning around. "Not a city. A capital."
Raiya raised an eyebrow. "You think small, huh?"
Chu Fang finally faced her. "I think real. And right now, I don't need perfection. I need foundation."
Raiya huffed and sat beside him on the exposed root of an old fig tree. Her golden mane was tied into thick braids that glistened with rain. "Still. You work them too hard. Even lions need rest."
"I don't command with hunger or pain," Chu Fang replied. "They work because they believe. Because they've never had a voice before — and now they do."
A shadow flickered at the edge of the clearing.
Nyra stepped from the trees, silent and cold as always, but her ears were twitching.
"We have visitors," she said quietly.
"Who?" Chu Fang asked, already standing.
"Not enemies. Not yet. A delegation. From the Eastern Clans."
Raiya stiffened.
"The snakes?" she asked.
Nyra nodded once.
"And worse. Apes."
Chu Fang narrowed his eyes.
They came by nightfall — a dozen creatures draped in green-silver cloaks woven from reeds and feathers. A tall white cobra slithered forward first, marked by black ink symbols spiraling down her hood.
Behind her were three apes — tall, scarred, and eerily silent — and a stag with antlers adorned in bells that jingled even in silence.
The cobra bowed.
"I am Siven, whisper of the Eastern Clans," she hissed. "We bring greetings… and curiosity."
Chu Fang stood atop the incomplete stone ridge that would one day be the palace's first wall.
"This is neutral land," he said plainly. "You're welcome as long as you bring no fangs into my throat."
"We do not bite without reason," Siven said, coiling. "But we hear things. About the striped king building something new. A haven. A heresy."
One of the apes stepped forward. "We came to see if it was true."
Chu Fang looked over his shoulder at the city rising in the rain — crude but alive. Then back at them.
"It's true."
Silence stretched.
Then the cobra tilted her head. "We offer no threat. We offer an invitation."
"To what?" Raiya asked, stepping to Chu Fang's side.
Siven turned to her. "An alliance. The world is changing. Old kings fall. Beasts awaken. Magic stirs again. Better we shape it… than be shaped by it."
Later, in the privacy of his den — a wide, dry hollow carved beneath a boulder — Chu Fang paced, tail swishing.
"They're testing us," Nyra said. "Seeing how much weight we hold."
"They wouldn't have come if they didn't already see our rise," Raiya added.
Chu Fang nodded. "I don't trust them. But I don't ignore opportunity."
"Do we accept their alliance?" Nyra asked.
Chu Fang looked out at the torch-lit construction site.
"No," he said. "Not yet. But we make them wait."
Raiya smirked. "Keep them guessing."
"Exactly," he said. "Let them wonder who we'll side with. Let them think we're bigger than we are."
"And when they dig deeper?" Nyra asked.
Chu Fang's smile sharpened. "By the time they do, we will be."
The following morning, Chu Fang stood before the gathered crowd — over two hundred beasts now — all huddled beneath sheltering trees or half-built dens.
"Today," he said, "we stop calling ourselves outcasts. Or rogues. Or strays."
Murmurs ran through the crowd.
"Today, we are The Fangborn."
He let the words hang.
"We are not built on bloodlines. We are built on unity. On strength. On survival. We are the animals of the old world… remaking the new."
Cheers rose.
"And this place—" he turned to the half-built stone ring, "—will be Vastclaw. Our capital. One day, our home of peace and power."
He raised his head.
"And I am your king. Not because I was born to be. But because I fought to be. And I will keep fighting — for all of us."
This time, the cheer shook the trees.
That night, in the quiet of the growing city, Raiya sat beside him by the fire. They watched the flames together, their fur brushing with each breath.
"You really mean it, don't you?" she whispered. "You believe we can change everything."
Chu Fang looked into the fire, eyes reflecting flame.
"I have to," he said. "If I don't… we go back to being prey."
She didn't reply at first.
Then she rested her head gently on his shoulder.
"You'll need help ruling."
"I've got you."
"And Nyra."
He nodded. "Of course."
"And soon, maybe… children."
He turned slightly to look at her.
A pause.
Then a smile. "One kingdom at a time."
Raiya laughed softly — for once, a sound without weight.
But in the shadows, Nyra watched them from a tree, her golden eyes unreadable.
She turned away without a word.
The fire burned.
And somewhere, far to the east, the true threat began to stir.