The lizard's golden eyes lifted, cold and unblinking, as the figure materialized beside it. Paws touched the shattered stone with soft precision, each step measured, almost imperceptible. A voice—smooth, tinged with faint amusement—broke the silence.
> "Looks like I arrived just in time," it said. "Though… I didn't expect their clan head to be at the first layer of Foundation Establishment. Convincing him to take me to the treasury… well, that turned out to be more trouble than anticipated."
The fox's turquoise eyes glimmered in the moonlight, sharp and evaluating. It didn't even glance directly at the lizard, yet an unmistakable weight lingered in its gaze—an unspoken acknowledgment that the creature beside it was not to be trifled with.
> "I expected you handling the Fifth Layer to come with difficulty," the fox continued, voice calm, though the narrowing of its eyes betrayed irritation. "But it seems… it wasn't easy. Not in the slightest. Most gave you far more trouble than I ever imagined. More than the one at the Sixth Layer, even."
The lizard's tail swished slowly across the cracked stone, frost trailing like pale veins behind it. It made no move to respond, yet its mind was alert, parsing the fox's words—the tone, the cadence, the rhythm of its breath.
> "Hm," the fox murmured, tilting its head. "I suppose… congratulations are in order. Not many survive the kind of battle you just endured."
The lizard's jaw clicked softly, a sound like ice cracking in still water. It flicked its tongue toward the night air, tasting predator and cultivator both—calculating, assessing.
The fox's eyes followed the movement, yet still it did not step closer. Its presence was confident, commanding, but it did not provoke. There was curiosity there… and perhaps a measure of caution.
The lizard's gaze never wavered. Silence settled between them—the broken courtyard, the frost, the blood, and the moonlight acting as still, impartial witnesses.
At last, the fox's lips curved into something resembling a smile—sharp, precise.
> Well now, I see no weakness. You're useful to me, the fox thought, and you've exceeded even my expectations.
The lizard's tongue flicked again, tasting the shifting air. For the first time, a faint sound—a low, almost imperceptible rumble—escaped its throat. Approval? Challenge? Impossible to tell. But the message was simple: it recognized the presence of something… not equal, perhaps, but something worth watching.
The courtyard held its breath. Frost traced delicate patterns across the fractured stones. And in the distance, the faint echo of footsteps reached the fox's ears.
The lizard's eyes tracked the fox as a subtle twist of its ears and a shift in stance betrayed incoming presence. Its tongue flicked, tasting the slight tension rising in the air.
Huh… the rest have arrived.
Atop the far courtyard roof, five figures stood silhouetted against the fractured moonlight—the elders of the Luo Clan. Their arrival was measured, deliberate; the sudden movement of their grand elder had caught their attention, and the disturbance left by the earlier battle had drawn them in.
The fox's gaze swept over them, turquoise eyes glowing faintly as it muttered under its breath:
> "One at the second layer… three at the third… and one at the fourth."
It said the words like one confirming a pattern, cataloging threats with practiced precision. Then, without waiting for a response, the fox turned its back to the lizard.
> "I'm going to get to work now. I won't disturb you—go ahead. They're all yours. I'm starting the cleanup."
It moved quickly afterward, silent as shadow over shattered stone, turquoise eyes gleaming with a predator's sharp delight. Its paws made no sound, frost trailing behind them like the faint whisper of a ghost.
Heh… let's see.
A low rumble curled in its chest—excitement, not threat. Controlled, but unmistakable.
So many… good things, waiting. Lying in wait inside the storage pouch of a Sixth Layer cultivator…
Its tongue flicked, tasting the lingering Qi of the fallen, the faint aura of treasures and tempered energy tucked safely where cultivators assumed nothing could touch them.
Curiosity… delicious.
It paused, nose twitching as it analyzed the faint, layered traces of essence. Each fold of energy, each hidden pocket, each seal whispered hints of its contents. Not merely trinkets. There was energy… rare ingredients… perhaps even fragments of techniques.
I wonder… which of these will amuse me first? Which will reward me most?
It crouched low, muscles coiling, tail swiping gently across frost-covered stone. Possibilities raced through its mind, each one a small thrill.
And to think… all this, just lying there, waiting for me…