Hello everyone. Your fanfic writer buddy, GrayZ. And here, I have decided to publish my newest fic that takes place after The Trinity, Book I. I suppose it has been a long road; I remember the last time finishing the sequel novel about March of last year and continued sending a few of A New Prophecy chapters to AO3. I hope to see the new and old faces around here while most of y'all are excited to watch the upcoming movie. Oh, yes! The Dragon Warrior is on the move!

Anyway, let's not waste time reading my note. Here, I give you Book II!

*Regarding copyright, I do not own Dreamworks's Kung Fu Panda or their fictional characters. My original characters, folklore, and fantasy lands are my work for enjoyment.*

For my grandfather, Refugio, a former correctional officer and a security guard who no longer suffered from Covid, flies in the sky with his wings. I miss your sense of humor, crazy old man. (November, 1940 - February, 2021)

BOOK II:

IV: Snow and Fire (1 - 10)

V: ?

The Trinity, Book II

by

GrayZeppelin

THE MIGHTIEST WARRIORS, BOOK TWO

Volume IV: Snow and Fire

Chapter I

In Return

Terkhiin Tsagaan Lake, Mongolia

"The fight is ours!"

Cleaving one of the last defenders of the wolverine's tribe, the fox Fengxian could hear the Mongols burst their shouting triumphs; they raided in yurts, rummaging for metals and every equipment for their survival. One of Batu's trusted warriors amplified his shout for glory, praising his brothers with succession before Fengxian began surveying the last yurt, where his leader entered inside from behind. Turning to finish off Tarkin's antelope warrior with his halberd plunged in his throat, Fengxian saw the black bear on the bank of the ice lake unleash her limb strength on the wolverine's chest, drowning her. The shaman was nowhere in sight, but the fox figured her body drifted under the ice.

Muddied, drenched in gore splotches, Fengxian went closer to the yurt before his leader unveiled herself by the front drape entry, manifesting a hostile expression and a bitter smile. Drawing one's presence from his side was the leopard himself in lamellar armor with a flap-scathe helmet, displaying his proud glance as he checked the fox's body and halberd.

"How many did you slaughter, Fengxian?"

"Twelve, Batu," Fengxian answered. His voice was blended with tension, causing his paw to tremble. Yet, it was a long fight for him to engage plenty of traitors before assailing the last warrior, who hammered his weapon against his. The fox's limbs turned, tensed muscles flaring. "You?"

"Thirteen," Batu stretched his grin to a pride. "I must have beaten your record so far."

"Oh? Are we challenging ourselves for fatality blows?" the fox teased him.

The leopard summoned his silvery chuffs, blending chuckles. "I find numbers of killing blows quite fun to count."

Not long before they could tease themselves for quite fun, the two warriors let their sights meet at the black bear, walking away from the shaman's yurt. Fires billowed their raging flickers behind her, gradually scorching the shreds of tight fabrics and whining woods in collapse. Mingling's back was fiddling with extreme fire breaths, putting her valuable toy in her bag. Drawing her other arm was the corpse of a traitor — a headless leopardess, plunged into the bear's hook before Mingling began clutching her grip and tossing Wan Wu's body near the two warriors. Mingling was bathed in gore; unveiling her devilish smile before Fengxian and Batu, Mingling heightened her sigh.

"That's one rat handled," she grimaced, leading her heavy steps toward the two. "Where is your loyal eagle, Batu?"

The winds carried a loud screech, and emerged the figure with broad wings of dark brown, soaring in the air in circles. The black bear, clicking her gore tongue in delight, watched the avian bend his wings down, the glide from the eagle's strong wings beating with rapid pulses. The eagle appeared in a sleeveless scathe deel before Mingling's eyes when he landed at Batu's left side.

"Lady Mingling," the gold eagle greeted, bowing before her. The gore that left its bathe on Mingling had the avian trying to cease his stare.

"I have a proposition for you," cooed the bear.

"I am listening."

"Message to those cravens who send fresh bodies here. Carry the rat's remains to the South of the Great Wall — show this corpse to the Chinese outsiders," Mingling crooned in her low, husky tone, unveiling her grimacing wrinkles. "Let them know what it means to be the fat buffalo and ibex's informant. Tell them Mongolia is welcome to traitors like her."

The gold eagle bobbed his head in obedience. Once seeing only two parts of Wan Wu's body — the chest and one limb — Batu's right-hand warrior approached and clasped his sharp black talons into the flesh. Fastening the grips when broadening his vibrant wings, the eagle felt the warmth claw upon his right shoulder, his cold eyes meeting Mingling's smile.

"And tell them. . ." the black bear narrowed her eyes. "Hear my words from Prince Huoju's Commander. The great sea of darkness is coming. Vengeance will prevail."

The avian beckoned his slow bow, heaving his wings higher. "I shall take your messages to the Great Wall, my Lady."

The three warriors watched as the gold eagle's wings flapped their booming swooshes, launching himself across the nippy breeze. Farther on and beyond, Mingling could still smell the leopard's corpse, gravely greedy to sip her flesh once more. Despite her intentions to treat the enemies in her days along with the Prince of Darkness, Mingling never spared prisoners or informers, but she could let Huoju spare those to either join his side or die. Instead of mercy, she chose fatalities — no mercy for the rivals.

"Am I the Mongolian now, Batu?" Mingling stretched her grin halfway, her antagonistic figure showing her flirt before the bear tramped her way to the ice lake.

"You are, my Lady," the leopard answered, sealing his bitter thought.

"Good. We travel back to Genghis Khan," she said. "He is waiting for his rewards."

Not able to speak further on this success driving lethality against the people of their own for following weak leaders — those who went separate and no longer wanted to follow the tyrant, Fengxian decided to wipe off the blood spills from his weapon when tearing off a dead Mongol's deel cloth. Regarding his leader being fierce and how she was born slaying people for sport or otherwise teasing, he knew Mingling had no sympathy for traitors; from Prince Huoju's words before the Prince of Darkness's reign ended, he could only spare his allegiance member one time, but sending traitors and enemies before her, Mingling would stop at nothing to end their suffering without hesitant.

Instead of washing his body from the nearest frozen lake, Fengxian, cleaning and sharpening his blade, stared at the leftover remains of Wan Wu's corpses while several yurts scorched to ruins around him. Mingling's haunting laugh shivered his spine, and he could not stop reflecting on the blood bath almost a day and night — weeks.

February, 1211

Karakorum, Mongolia

Their month-long trip of walking and camping across the endless terrains of snow and desert had Mingling and Batu's tribe arrive at Genghis's land. The land stretched its broad horizon of desert and dry-green meadow, the dusk of dark crimson fires sinking gradually. Hundreds of yurts lay before the returning fighters, thousands of Mongols in deel attires praising their brothers and sisters. The snow fox, Fengxian, and his warriors marching through the praising hordes of Mongols arrived at their tents to the closest fire pit, removing their armaments and armor for their recoveries.

The fox's sensation inside his yurt met with warm surroundings, stroking his strained neck when sitting on his sheet. By the Gods. What a long trip. He had trekked long against the cold breeze, watching his crew wrap their covers while eating before sleeping. Reflecting a young fox like him, swathed in a woven fabric, Fengxian could see a child of his own at the peak, sitting in front of the small firepit with his vixen mate. Three of which he dearly missed, longing to return his fellow and their children - first born daughter of red and a young son of white. The girl's cravings for her leadership style did accommodate her well, memorized by her mother's fascination with strength and caring. The boy's ambition for supporting the leader was meaningful to his father's perspective, compared to his ideal of fitting in guidance for the head of the army.

His children would be warriors someday, and he feared them becoming what their father served — the conception of his loyalty to tyrants who blinded him into fighting against the weak before the strong.

Two leaders Fengxian obeyed in his life were bittersweet. The first promised to conquer the realm by tearing down the dynasty to a new era without kung fu temples and the Emperor's palace — only obedience and dominance under the bovine's vengeful oath for the late Emperor Khan of Jinse Simiao. The second, willing to keep the Prince's oath as the Commander of Fire Clan, followed the same strategy to defeat every warrior, but far more unmerciful than Huoju's supremacy — cruelty and death as Mingling swore to destroy.

Fengxian entered the tent and lay on the layered, fur-like sheet, stroking his strained neck.

The yurt's entry flapped its woven sheet to the side, and a fox warrior in his dark cherry deel pardoned the alpha. "My apologies for bothering you, sir," he cleared his rough throat. "Lady Mingling sends you her regards. She will join you on the next day for a celebration.

Fengxian unwrapped his last shoulder plate and placed it and the rest of his armor pieces on his side. "Very well," the alpha asserted. "Tell our men to rest, Hao."

"Yes, sir. And rest easy, Lieutenant," he released the sheet and dismissed with his fading steps.

Fengxian began to wrap himself with a warm blanket and lay in the corner, his closed eyes begging to forget the last bitter visions. His thoughtful question, clouded by spills of bloodshed across the cold desert fields before the black bear's wrath, seemed to haunt him forever after the fates of wolverine Sarnai and leopardess Wan Wu, opening his eyes with shock and dread while tightening his cover.

What the hell did I sign up for?

The black bear beckoned her friendly gestures toward the Mongol hordes. At a glance, before arriving at the yurt of ibex skull, Batu invited her in as a few tribesmen dispersed from behind, returning to homes with their beloved. Batu was the first to enter, present his bow, and kneel before his leader in a yurt with the Khan's brides. Most of the Khan's wives — bears and one lady from the Western Xia — exchanged their glances with one another before they filled their faces with determination and sternness, watching the guest, whose inky fur became dryly drenched with blood and thin soils.

"My Khan," the leopard called. "I have returned, and so have my fellow warrior. She has what you requested."

The Gobi bear in a del attire robe with intricate spiral patterns gesticulated his claw, raising his loyal warrior. "Welcome back, Batu," Genghis simpered. "You traveled well, my friend?"

"I have, my Khan. It was highly spiritual," Batu simpered. "I brought my fighter here, who claimed your prizes."

Mingling was summoned from the leopard's claw, bowing and kneeling before Genghis. The Mongol leader found the presence of the female fighter's pride. Glory was better recognized, seeing most of his tribe members bathe their gores after they fleshed out other tribe traitors. "My Khan," she introduced, avoiding Genghis's stone glare. "I have come home and brought you your gifts — your trophies. Tarkin and Sarnai are no longer part of your problems."

The Mongol leader approached Mingling, whose claw presented two belongings of Genghis's enemies; he sent her and his best warriors to assassinate last time. She took months to scout across the country of Mongolia and surveyed every tribe that followed the triumphant leader and a few who obeyed those who followed Genghis's traitors. Mingling only needed to hunt down two warriors; they were gone for good. The gobi bear inspected the two pendants from the late Tarkhan and Sarnai: the dark brown string with claw nails and eight pieces of a jawbone bracelet with black feathers and beads. Their scents were stronger and easily recognizable, as Genghis smelled these pendants more than the duplicates.

She has done her duty.

Grunting his rough voice with approval, Genghis Khan gesticulated his claw. "Rise."

Mingling did so gradually, still averting her eyesight from his glare. Within the tent's surroundings, chanting murmurs by the Khan's wives deadened to silence. But the firepit crackled its woods, shattering before the bits of firefly embers escaped through the chimney. Readying his pose, the gobi bear pulled his slight grin to one side, glancing at his loyal fighter. "Rest well, Batu. You took a long stride," the Khan aided, palming the leopard's shoulder. "I will join your company on the next day."

"Yes, my Khan," the leopard showed his respective nod and briefly stood beside Mingling, muttering. "Remember what I tell you, Mingling."

Without replying to regard the Khan's return, the black bear gradually nodded her head before Genghis's wives called each name. "Leave us. Return to our sons now," the gobi bear uttered.

One by one, they departed towards the entry and scattered away, and his last wife from the Western Xia, who turned to the conqueror, bowed to him before she left without a word. What reward shall I have? Mingling thought, keeping her lips shut when the Khan surveyed her surroundings, his claw stroking around her drenched neck, bathed in dry sweat.

"Remove your armor," Khan commanded her with his silvery croon.

Seeking that odd to regard the conqueror's order, Mingling unbuttoned her lamellar armor's buttons on one side and the other, unlatching the front as she removed her battle dress, unveiling half of her bare tops with faded mauls and scars, mended with care for centuries. She was a fighter for centuries; nonetheless, the Khan sought her as a vicious female, unlike his wives. Surveying her body for a prolonged time, the gobi bear held his claw under her jaw, softly motioning her head. Her crimson eyes meeting his own had Mingling reflected one who was too kind to her before his end. Prince Huoju.

"Thank you for claiming these pendants, warrior. As a promise, in return, you shall receive the reward."

The black bear arched her eyes with wonder without giving herself a query, though this reward could be valuable to her or something worth she craved. Nonetheless, the Khan grasped her shoulder, his eyes peeking at the yurt's drape entry left ajar. His trusted ally, the snow leopard, beckoned his head with a nod.

"Close the yurt," Genghis commanded.

And the drape with a Khan sigil fluttered to a close.

In the morning, the snow fox kept rocking his body back and forth while sitting on the covered sheet, his mind swimming with rough clouds and seas, visioning Mingling in her dark scathe armor, drenched in blood, her eyes flashing violet. He continued muttering under his throat, whispering while no one else was close to him nearby.

Wan Wu. What were you — What? Mingling. I need a drink.

Fengxian robed himself in his brown deel robe with a black belt and warm trousers, stepping out of the yurt. The light breeze muttered as the sky invited silver-yellow light from the east, slowly rising below the violet-pink clouds. Nearing the large firepit for his and the tribe's neighbors, he served himself a mug from a small pan containing milk tea. The hot brew wafted in his muzzle as he began to sit on the flatrock, sipping the warm flavor. Several gulps calmed him and his anxiety, letting him breathe the cool breeze in and out without worrying. Gods. That's better. I needed that.

Children's giggles emerged as he kept sipping his milk tea, the group of young felines, beavers, and argalis scurring between small yurt gaps. One neared with friendly steps from behind, offering a light pat on his back. "Morning, my friend. It's good to see you again."

Turning to the fox's right was a chow-chow dog in his dark deel and black trousers, grabbing a pan before pouring his mug himself. "Good morning to you too, Fang," Fengxian said.

The canine sat next to him. "How did the fight go, Fengxian?"

He buried his bitter thoughts, attempting not to recall the events that nearly wet his pants. The snow fox pulled his grin. "It wasn't so bad. The wolverine could have spared herself to surrender but decided to stay dead with Tarkin anyway."

"Not every fighter surrenders," Fang said, sipping his milk tea. Mmmmm. The canine droned and simpered with relaxation. "This travel has been long and arduous, would you agree?"

"I am used to that, in China, of course, but not as expecting Mongolia's environment to be harsh."

"For sure, friend," the dog worded in agreeable solemnity. "The milk tea is good, isn't it?"

"It's delicious," smiled the fox. The tea brew and cooked rice taste triggered his tongue to accept the milk's salt flavor.

"So, Fengxian," he asked the fox after gulping two drinks. "What was the issue I heard last time? The one who was in the tribe and spied on your commander?"

Fengxian lessened his relieving sigh, desiring to sip once more. "The rat was taken care of," he answered.

"Any idea who was the spy?" Fang questioned.

The fox's prolonged glance kept his thoughts clear, remembering the face of a leopardess whose round head swathed with shrouds. "A Wu Sister."

"A Wu Sister?" the dog's whisper heightened with surprise. "I thought the Sisters were in the black cells. If I remember, they surrendered after losing their sibling during my exile."

"That would be Wing Wu. This Moon Lord, whoever the hell the name was, caused her death. She was murdered by the name Temutai," the fox clarified, clearing his throat. "Wan Wu was in front of our noses before she attempted to steal Mingling's ball."

"A ball?" the dog asked, stretching his brow upward. "Is your leader a shaman? The fortune teller?"

"A lot more than that," Fengxian's cold stare narrowed, bringing Fang's spine clutch in slight shivers.

"Yeah, I heard she's dangerous," Fang mentioned. "My men saw her glare and almost pooped their trousers, even though we do admire her in her presence."

The first time I saw her, I had the same feeling — the feeling of dominance from Mingling.

He passed on to continue sipping his tea before retrieving another round to pour in his mug. As he sat down, Fengxian's thoughts flooded with inquisitiveness.

"Would you mind if I like to ask you something, Fang?"

"Of course, friend. What's in your mind?" the canine said, sweeping off milk on his upper lip.

"You wore those strands of sky silk on your chest plate," the snow fox recalled. "I might have seen a few dressed in Ao coats and flowy skirts before in China."

"You mean this?"

The chow-chow dug in his pocket and brought a charm with a ripped seafoam ( a light green ) cloth and yellow beads. "That one," Fengxian nodded. "What do they mean?"

Fang inspected and caressed the pendant, reminding himself dressed in dark red lamellar armor around the capital palace of Lin'an*. "Someone special to me."

The fox looked at him as he felt the specialty of a loving person compared to what he loved his beautiful children. Fang let out a sigh of regret. "Before my banishment, I used to be in service with the Emperor of China, who I swore to protect his daughters."

"Daughters?" the fox straightened his back, surprised. "I thought Emperor Huangdi had one."

"One firstborn and then two of her adoptive siblings," Fang explained, clearing his harsh throat. "Huangdi brought the girl from Lord Kan Zi to his temple. With Kan Zi's Will, the Emperor promised him to raise her as his daughter."

"The Will. . . I assume Lord Kan Zi had passed."

"He died of sickness. Natural cause," Fang replied. He rummaged his silky pendant under his throat, reflecting the lynx of green eyes in her ocean-green hanfu and the cow of yellow eyes in a dark gold dress. The other next to the lynx princess were the eyes shone in violet. "And there was a third girl who lived with them. The infant was in the Imperial Palace, where one of Huangdi's generals checked for perimeters before he sent her to him and his daughters."

"Which one of the Emperor's daughters did she dress in? Like your pendant?"

"That will be my favorite kitten. The Princess's name is Xiao," Fang simpered, closing his eyes, remembering the young feline who scurried across the Lin'an courtyard in broad cheese daylight, chirping her laugh. "The girl is such a blessing, full of curiosity. Sometimes, Xiao could sneak out through the walls of the Lin'an. Under the Emperor's orders, I had to act quickly to disguise as — her favorite dancer."

Fengxian nearly chuckled but pulled his grin. "She seemed spoiled for enjoyment," the fox commented.

"No kidding!" Fang made his surprised growl while smirking. "I hated dressing up as a lady. It took me hours to do the makeup and act like a nanny."

"I've seen a few who wore themselves to be in disguise," Fengxian said, taking his last warm drink. "There used to be a satire auditorium somewhere in the Jin Dynasty, bringing actors to impersonate lords, ladies, and kung fu masters. I saw a hound who almost looked like you but in white makeup and red cherry lips, used to tell dark jokes about the fat buffalo shitting himself from his temple to the public areas."

"Good heavens. Thank the Gods I was not the only one who dressed up as a lady," Fang was relieved. The large canine inspected his pendant longer before his last conversation with the feline. Fang last spoke to Princess Xiao that he brought shame to himself for being loyal to one of her adoptive sisters who attempted to overthrow their adoptive father's throne. One resignation from the leader would have brought chaos from a tyrant; Xiao's sister would have conquered cities and villages of the Song Dynasty.

Fang had his last sight of Xiao's disappointed glance, the face of being betrayed. He remembered her lovely voice too well, filled with encouragement, wishing he should have been by her side — from the day she was born until the end of his days.

You are my best friend.

"I swear to you. Xiao is like my own," Fang said, wiping his tears after sniffing. "Loving the girl in my life had changed me, and.. After all this shit, I could have stood loyal to was turning tables. Her sister, a Komodo dragon, was involved in attempting regicide to overthrow the Emperor when the pandas came."

"Pandas?" the fox asked.

"The Dragon Warrior and the Four Constellations."

I might have heard those children before. Not enough attention while serving.

The snow fox cleared his tendered throat. "What forced you to resign and banish you here, Fang?"

"Involvement with Shi Long. Despite her schemes to rule the Lin'an and the peafowl's metropolis, promising us guards to increase incomes was her ideal, thus the connection with mysterious people who favored the Emperor's resignation. But then, when I tried to convince Shi Long not to rebel against Emperor Huangdi, she blackmailed me for being loyal to him. Until that moment, when I had no choice but to fight pandas, the battle didn't go so well. Xiao saw me in chains, and her eyes had me drowned inside when I knew the consequence: disloyalty. I betrayed Princess Xiao."

I am sorry.

The fox felt pity for Fang regarding this similarity to what Fengxian promised his wife that one of his missions would be the last. His last mission was to claim the city of Gongmen. He thought of her face bathing with shame, haunting him in his dreams. His worst one was his children screaming at him for not coming home.

"Lieutenant Fengxian."

He snapped his head from daydreaming and found a brown hawk in rich brown armor, who presented his bow in front of the fox.

"Oh? Yes," Feng stood up. "It's good to see you, Fang. We'll talk later then?"

"Gladly," Fang nodded.

The large canine saw Feng dismissed as the fox followed the avian soldier when they entered the yurt. Looking at Xiao's pendant, Fang blessed it.

I swear to you, my Princess. I missed you. I will redeem myself when I return to China.

The fox entered his yurt with the avian, closing the drape entry after he surveyed their surroundings. "What news, Private?"

The hawk, digging his satchel beside his waist, handed a roll of small parchment to Feng. Fengxian kept close to the letter, standing near the fireplace, where the fire flickers snapped the woods, keeping his legs warm. The soldier kept his posture in place rather than what his leader was scrutinizing. Something confidential, but after reading the topic — We regret to inform you — that the hawk was not allowed to glimpse, Fengxian raised his head and knelt close to the fire, trapping the message under the wood. He burned the parchment.

"I am sending another messenger. You are too compromised coming here," Fengxian warned, standing ahead of the avian. "Bring me the one with tattoo wings."

"But—"

"That's an order."

The hawk's beak opened, but hesitant as the leader's command was given to him, allowing the soldier to obey without further delay. The avian nodded his head to a realization and defeat and dismissed. "Yes, sir."

His soldier departed, barging out before the wings delivered sharp beats. Flying in the distance, the wing's throbs in Feng's ears faded.

Fengxian sat on his bed, rocking back and forth when grasping his knees. Regret to inform you, my ass. I did my job, so why are you doing this to me? I need to get out of here!

Sitting for an hour when staring at the dancing fires, the ember fireflies twirling before escaping through the gap and to the nippy breezes, Fengxian thought of the Fang and his company of banished canines, who were resilient and better at hurling daggers when he heard his friend's reports after they returned from Tarkhan's yurts. Those guards initially made their vow to the Emperor one time after Huangdi's coronation, a week after Huangse's death. One of the high council members, who was part of the Emperor's hand to bequeath the other, suggested the Gentle Dragon allow the canines to be his royal guards — those who willed to be his shield and die for the Emperor. Fengxian did not yet know if the Forbidden Company existed unless something priority to capturing all of China's biggest threat. Fang and his loyal fighters were Huangdi's, but no more after they had pledged one of his adoptive daughters to dethrone him and kill off one of her sisters.

The introduction from his yurt's drape entry with swiftness reacted the fox, snapping him out of wondrous thoughts. A new soldier was like the other avian but young and relentless. The hawk had a dark gray beak with gold around his nostrils and lips, rough brown feathers and inky wings, and sleeveless graphite armor. Under the soldier's limbs had velvet silver tribal tattoos, the one Fengxian wished to have another. Standing up with circumspection, Fengxian readied his paw when clutching the grip of his knife on his belt. He thought one way and the other while scrutinizing the new face — a Mongol or an outsider. The fox worded the call signs in his mind.

"Bamboo."

"Panda," the avian's harsh voice answered.

The fox breathed in with an instant relief, withdrawing his dagger grip. The hawk displayed his bow. "Corporal San, sir. I am at your service," he introduced, lowering his voice from the unwanted presence.

"Wonderful. Your new face will buy me more time," Fengxian regarded, moving into the avian's space. San bent down halfway to reach for the fox's head height. "Corporal San. Send my message to the one in charge — the general with duo axes. Remind him and the South no more bodies."

The bird nodded. The fox's digit curved his gesture, leading San to crane his neck and meet his ear close to Fengxian's lips. "Tell the Gentle Dragon. . . Mongols are coming."

Author's Note:

— Dun, Dun, DUU — Ahem. There's no need to introduce the mystery puzzle's revelation. I hope this scene surprises you to think about what's next for my character, Fengxian. He'll be an interesting one to fill his arc throughout Book II's future chapters; we know he was the outcast and served with terrible people in his life. But at what cost for him?

— Most chapters (only ten) are ready to be published for a few weeks before the new movie's release around March. Don't ask if I have seen the trailer because I made a vow not to peek at it. I know nothing! Keep your fingers off the keyboard disclosing the franchise. No spoilers!

— Moving on to the next! To the Jade Palace!