Champion of the Realms, page 1
PRAISE FOR THE EPIC TALE OF MIKAELA KONG
“There’s so much to enjoy in this book: the K-pop references, the action sequences, the Chinese mythology, the struggles of teenage school life, but as always, for me, what I appreciate most in Vivian’s books is her portrayal of friendship.”
—LOW YING PING, author of the Mount Emily series
“An awesome rendition of xianxia, wuxia and Monkey King legend wrapped up in a modern Singapore, teenage tale.”
—HWEE GOH, Hwee’s Book Share Club
“Wonderfully paced with an intriguing premise and lively characters.”
—NG ZIQIN, author of Every School a Good School
“Reading The Epic Tale of Mikaela Kong has been nothing short of a rollercoaster! Vivian Teo’s writing beautifully captures the highs and lows of growing up, with relatable themes of friendship, bravery and self discovery that both kids and adults can appreciate.”
—FAY LIM, @the_ace_sisters_and_mummy_fay
IN THE SERIES
The Epic Tale of Mikaela Kong (Book 1)
Copyright © 2025 by Vivian Teo
Author photo by Nina Mucalov. Used with permission.
Cover design by Nikki Rosales
Published in Singapore by Epigram Books
www.epigram.sg
Published with the support of
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise without the prior written permission of the publisher.
National Library Board, Singapore
Cataloguing-in-Publication Data
Name(s): Teo, Vivian.
Title: Champion of the realms / Vivian Teo.
Other title(s): Mikaela Kong series ; no. 2.
Description: Singapore : Epigram Books, 2025.
Identifier: ISBN 978-981-51-0596-4 (paperback)
ISBN 978-981-51-0597-1 (ebook)
Subject(s): LCSH: Friendship—Juvenile fiction. | Fantasy fiction.
Classification: DDC S823—dc23
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
First edition, April 2025.
For Elise,
the first fan of this series
Contents
Fight
Visitor
Tour
Proposal
Reserve
New Student
Ally
Decision
Training
Unfair
Jumpy
Arrest
Plan
Confrontation
Memories
Escape
Bygones
Aftermath
Interim
Past & Present
1
FIGHT
The spear’s silver tip whistled past my face. It pierced the air above my right shoulder, narrowly missing me. With my opponent’s stomach unguarded, I slammed the tip of my iron cudgel into his gut. He staggered backwards with a grunt, his black and golden spear going askew.
An opening! I flicked my cudgel upwards, smartly striking his hand. The spear dropped unceremoniously onto the grass with a soft thud. Without missing a beat, I drove my weapon forward, stopping just a few inches short of his face, the cudgel’s golden base hovering between his eyes. He froze, his shocked expression illuminated by the moonlight glinting off his fallen weapon.
I couldn’t help stating the obvious. “I win,” I said breezily, cocking my head.
Bai Yulong glanced up from his half crouch, irate. But there it was—the subtle quirk at the corner of his lips. Yup, he was also proud of me.
“Not bad, Mik,” he remarked coyly, pushing my cudgel aside as he straightened up. “If only your meditation and shapeshifting could keep up with your cudgel work,” he added, ruffling my hair, like how I always did to my little brother, Ee Heng.
I swatted his hand away and rolled my eyes. Couldn’t he give me a single word of praise without mentioning my weaknesses?
“We’ll go again, then we practise meditation,” he instructed, before silently striding across the garden’s wide arena of carpet grass to take up his position.
I groaned. Training to unlock my inner Monkey King was exhausting and often felt like a chore. For the past three months, Yulong had pushed me relentlessly, training with me almost every night in the garden under a concealment spell that made us invisible unless someone breached its boundaries. Yulong won our sparring sessions most nights, but lately, my win count had been climbing. I might not fight like the Monkey King yet, but I was getting closer.
It turned out that sparring wasn’t the hardest part of my Monkey King training though; meditation was much worse. Besides mastering the cudgel, Yulong decided that it was time for me to unlock the Monkey King’s other powers, like shapeshifting and true sight. We had previously discovered that random swells of emotion could trigger these abilities, and Yulong believed that practising meditation would attune me to my qi, or energy, and help me master these powers.
At first, meditation sounded easy enough. How hard could it be? All you have to do is sit and close your eyes, right? But I quickly realised how wrong I was.
For a start, I had to clear my mind and focus on my breathing.
“Remember, Mik,” Yulong would intone, “your emotions and qi are intertwined. When you’re calm, your qi will flow smoothly. When you feel strong emotions, your qi will fluctuate. During meditation, pay attention to how your qi flows within you—observe the way it rises and falls, how it impacts your breathing and where it feels the strongest in your body.”
I’d try my best, but each time I did, I’d either doze off or find my thoughts drifting between K-pop choreography and my list of undone homework. Juggling schoolwork, tests, projects and world-saving training left me drained. Who could blame me for falling asleep during something as boring as meditation?
Safe to say, the other powers of the Monkey King remained out of reach.
But I continued to persevere; I had promised Yulong I was going to take training seriously. The prophecy of the Dark Lady (aka the Goddess of War or Jiutian Xuannu) hung over us with four more signs yet to be fulfilled before the final battle. While no new signs had emerged since I defeated Princess Iron Fan, we remained in the dark as to how soon the signs and battle would come. The Dark Lady never got to interrogate the demoness for more information as her life force was gone by the time the goddess had returned to the Celestial Realm.
I glanced at my watch: 11pm. Ugh. In an hour, my June school holidays would be officially over. I should be curled up in bed right now, watching Korean girl group BabyMonster’s new music video on YouTube. I hadn’t even learnt any dance routines this holiday! I bet Hui Shuen and Arish were savouring the last few hours of their holiday gaming or watching Netflix. Why couldn’t I enjoy the last day of my holiday like a normal 13-year-old?
Oh yeah, because unlike me, other 13-year-olds don’t have an apocalypse to avert and a slave driver of a mentor.
A spark of resentment flared up but I stifled it as I strode to the other end of the garden, draping my hands tiredly over the cudgel slung across my shoulders so that I resembled a small “t”.
Yulong extended his spear towards me with one hand. “You’re starting off like that?” he asked, raising a brow.
I made a face at him. “Of course not.” Then dramatically, I dropped into a lunge, swinging my cudgel before retracting it neatly along the back of my right arm, my left arm extended correctly. Yulong only grunted. He would rather die than admit it, but I was getting pretty good at these sweeps, which had since become my favourite go-to move.
My other wushu master and schoolmate, Wong Feixue, would have been more enthusiastic. If she were here, she would give me a thumbs up and an encouraging “Good job, Mik!”.
Man, I missed Feixue. Before the June holidays, we hung out a lot and she got me up to speed with my schoolwork. Feixue proved to be as good a tutor as she was a cudgel master; with her help, I managed to pull through and score around 60 to 70 per cent for my term two assessments. My grades weren’t as good as before, but at least they weren’t bad enough for Mum and Dad to demand I drop out of my dance co-curricular activity’s (CCA) performance team.
I hadn’t seen much of Feixue this holiday. While training for an upcoming wushu competition, she had also been waiting tables at a café to earn extra pocket money. Feixue scrimped whenever she could, as her grandmother, her sole guardian, was not physically well and didn’t earn much from washing dishes at a hawker centre.
Knowing that Feixue and Ah Ma weren’t well-off, Yulong once tried to gift Feixue a Celestial Realm gold coin, but she refused to take it. Instead, she put her arms around both of us and said, “I don’t need money from you two. Your friendship is enough.”
The tip of Yulong’s spear flew towards me, shattering my daydreams.
I yelped, deflecting it with my cudgel. “Hey, I wasn’t ready!” I planted a fist on my hip and glared at him.
“An enemy wouldn’t wait for you to be ready.”
Yulong circled his weapon swiftly towards me, the silver metal tip and red tassel merging into a blur. I backed away, parrying evenly with my cudgel before attempting a strike to the head. He bent backwards deftly, my cudgel flying through the air
We were in the zone, spear and cudgel clashing almost rhythmically under the moonlight, when applause rang out.
We froze and I shot Yulong a wild-eyed look. How could anyone see us under the concealment spell?
2
VISITOR
“Greetings, Great Sage and Great Strength Bodhisattva!” a voice sang out, too cheerful for the moment. When I turned, I was startled by the sight—a teenager, sharply dressed in a grey suit, yet oddly sporting white sneakers. He was a head shorter than Yulong, but his stride and posture radiated confidence. From the way he greeted us and walked straight through our concealment spell, I figured he must be a deity. I almost returned the greeting, but there was an arrogance in his steps that held me back.
Yulong’s brows were furrowed. “It’s been a while, Yan Wang.” He cupped his right fist in his left hand and gave a slight bow in greeting.
My eyes widened. Yan Wang? As in, the ruler of the Underworld? The cool night air suddenly felt heavy as shadows crept in. Yulong was tense, but it was that darkness clinging to Yan Wang that made my skin prickle. What was the King of the Underworld doing in my garden in the dead of the night?
Yan Wang gave Yulong a sly smile before turning to me. “Great Sage, it’s been years since we last met. You may look different now, but there’s no doubt: the flair of the great Monkey King is alive in you.”
“Yeah, you look different too,” I said, my eyes narrowing. I recalled Yan Wang as an old guy with a stern face and a beard from Journey to the West. “Aren’t you supposed to have a big beard or something?”
“I did, but I ditched that look a while back during the Underworld’s great revamp.” Yan Wang’s lips curled into a knowing smile. “Celestials have the ability to appear any age they choose to be. Since the Great Sage is now a teenager, I thought meeting in our teenage forms would help us be better friends. I assumed the Dragon Prince of the West Sea here was doing the same.” He jutted his chin haughtily towards Yulong. “Or has he not been forthcoming about his celestial abilities?”
I glanced at Yulong in surprise, realising I’d never wondered about his appearance before.
“I’m sure Yan Wang didn’t drop by in the middle of the night to discuss appearances,” Yulong said calmly, sidestepping his question. “What brings you here tonight?”
Yulong had subtly shifted in front of me, as though silently shielding me from the Underworld visitor. A spark of irritation flared. Was Yulong doubting my ability to handle the situation?
Yan Wang strolled along the edge of the garden, hands clasped behind his back, shadows trailing his steps. “My apologies for the unannounced visit, but I was anxious to pay my respects to the Great Sage upon hearing of his return to the Mortal Realm.”
“How did you come to know of this information?” Yulong asked, his voice laced with suspicion.
“Nothing escapes the eyes of the Underworld,” Yan Wang replied cryptically with a sneer. His gaze swept over me, sending another wave of goosebumps. “So, what brings the Great Sage to the Mortal Realm?”
Yulong’s jaw tightened, but he forced a smile. “Yan Wang, we thank you for your concern,” he said evenly, his tone barely concealing the steel beneath. “But this is a matter for the Celestial Realm. We have no obligation to share this information with you.”
I could tell Yulong didn’t like Yan Wang’s sudden arrival, but he was trying to keep things civil as Yan Wang was obviously a higher-ranked deity.
Yan Wang’s smirk only widened, relishing Yulong’s restrained hostility. He clicked his tongue and sighed dramatically. “As always, the Underworld is excluded, even though we hold such an important role in keeping balance among the realms.”
He returned his probing gaze at me. “I couldn’t help but notice your little sparring match with your pal, Great Sage. How about a round with me instead?”
“She doesn’t—” Yulong started just as I said, “Sure!”
Yulong glared at me. “Mik, I don’t think—”
I spun my cudgel into position, silencing his protest with a swish. “Ready when you are.”
I never backed down from a challenge. Besides, my curiosity was piqued. A deity offering to spar with me? How could I pass that up? Other than Yulong, I had never sparred with anyone else, let alone with another deity. The King of the Underworld would be a formidable opponent—I wanted to see what he could do and what I was capable of.
“The Great Sage is as forthright as I had remembered.” Yan Wang smiled.
“Please call me Mik.” The mention of the Great Sage was jarring. The essence of the Monkey King may live within me, but as far as I was concerned, we were two separate individuals.
“All right then, Mik.” Yan Wang grinned, withdrawing a small dagger from his pants pocket. As he unsheathed it, the blade caught the moonlight, revealing a mesmerising silver-blue gleam that seemed almost alive.
“The Seven Stars Sword!” Yulong exclaimed. “Doesn’t this belong to Taishang Laojun?”
Yan Wang’s lips curled into a cocky smile. “You might recall that the Seven Stars Sword was stolen by the demon brothers, the Golden Horned King and Silver Horned King, who were Taishang Laojun’s former furnace keepers in the Celestial Realm.”
I vaguely remembered this part in Journey to the West. Such inside jobs where roguish Celestials pilfered magical artefacts before running away to the Mortal Realm were common in the Celestial Realm.
“The brothers had captured Tripitaka and had been defeated by Sun Wukong. After Taishang Laojun took them back to the Celestial Realm, the brothers got bored watching his furnace again, so they took some of his treasures, including the sword, and escaped to the Mortal Realm once more,” Yan Wang continued. “When the demons arrived, they fought over which mountain to set up camp and ended up tumbling down to their demise.”
“Ha!” I snorted. One thing I never liked about Journey to the West was how demons, who were former Celestial residents, usually got away with their misdeeds with just a slap on the wrist. Never mind that they had terrorised an entire village or eaten a human or two. It sounded like those two met their deserved fate.
My reaction drew a curious smile from Yan Wang. “As the Celestial Realm and Underworld work on a finders-keepers system when it comes to items left behind by the dead, the Seven Stars Sword became the Underworld’s possession when Underworld guards collected the brothers’ souls.”
“I would say it is a system created and only followed by the Underworld. Items rightfully belonging to the Celestial Realm should be returned to the Celestial Realm,” Yulong put in indignantly.
“The Celestial Realm tasks the Underworld with record-keeping of all deceased in the Mortal Realm. Since the weapon came with the deceased, we collected everything we found at the scene.” Yan Wang said matter-of-factly. “The system doesn’t matter though, does it, if the Celestials come to take what they want? Like a certain Banana Leaf Fan?”
Yulong’s expression turned grim. “The Banana Leaf Fan was originally a sacred treasure of the Celestial—”
“I’m not here to debate on the rightful owners of magical weapons,” Yan Wang cut Yulong off curtly. He returned his attention to the dagger, sweeping his fingers purposefully over it. As he did, it lengthened and grew into a sword. The blade, sharp, thin and unsullied, shone with brilliance while seven silver stars glinted from the guard of the hilt.
“Yan Wang, this is just a sparring session. Dian dao wei zhi,” Yulong cautioned with a dark expression. The Chinese term meant to skim the surface; in sparring, it meant not to hurt your opponent. A flash of annoyance surfaced again. Even if I wasn’t the Monkey King, I wasn’t that awful a fighter.
“Given that she was the Monkey King, perhaps you ought to caution her instead.” Yan Wang flashed a wry smile as he removed his jacket, smoothed it out and draped it neatly over the fence. With a confident smile, he took up a forward stance and aimed his sword at me.
Adrenaline, from a mix of excitement, anticipation and uncertainty, rushed through me. I moved to the opposite end of the garden and braced my cudgel against my chest; one end rested on my outstretched left arm, the other end firm in my right grip.
