The fox's excited muttering tapered into a soft hum as its paws brushed over the ground. It padded toward the fallen cultivator's remains just as a storage pouch slipped free from the blood-soaked robes of Luo Yuanji. Its whiskers twitched at the faint leaks of spiritual essence trapped inside. A pleased smile curled its muzzle—sharp, self-satisfied. Anticipation still gleamed in its turquoise eyes: bright, sharp, hungry in its own refined way.
But again—
its movements slowed.
A pause.
Its ears flicked, and the fox glanced back over its shoulder, turquoise eyes sliding toward the lizard.
The lizard stood motionless amid the frost-laced cracks of the courtyard, blood dripping steadily from the wounds carved across its scales beneath its forelimbs. The fox's gaze narrowed as it watched each drop fall—slow, deliberate beads of red that hissed into white mist where they touched the cold aura leaking from the lizard's body.
The wounds along the lizard's flanks hadn't closed.
The blood still seeped—slow, steady, stubborn.
Its scales, though unbowed, carried faint tremors beneath the surface.
The fox's tail swayed once, contemplative.
…Still bleeding. Those wounds haven't sealed? It's recovering this slowly?
Its ears tilted back slightly.
Just like back then… it can recover quickly, but still slowly…
Its gaze sharpened, analyzing the steady drip of crimson as it hissed along frost-touched stone. The lizard's predatory composure was intact, but its body—its body was straining.
The fox inhaled softly, catching the scent of disturbed Qi, torn muscle, lingering battle intent. A quiet thought unfurled in its mind—something between admiration and mild irritation.
How is it even standing…?
A faint exhale slipped from the fox's nose—half disbelief, half reluctant admiration.
Three mid-stage cultivators… one after another. Any early-stage creature should have died a hundred times over. But no—this thing not only survived, it killed all three… and still looks ready for more.
The fox's claws flexed against the cracked stone, tracing thin arcs through the frost. The lizard's posture hadn't faltered—not once. Not even now. Despite the blood. Despite the lingering distortion in its Qi flow. Despite wounds that would have grounded anything else.
Its gaze flicked toward the rooftop—five silhouettes haloed in fractured moonlight, watching, waiting.
Troublesome if handled carelessly.
The fox's tail swayed behind it, brushing frost across shattered stone. A sensible, pragmatic part of it knew it should intervene. It could kill early-stage cultivators easily. Early mid-stage ones too—though it might take a bit longer. But with its injuries…
Yet…
Its eyes slid back to the lizard.
The creature's posture remained unshaken.
It wasn't trembling.
It wasn't hesitant.
It was waiting.
Choosing to stand its ground.
Something in that silent, frost-clad resolve brought a small smirk to the fox's face—this one edged with calculation.
> "Oh well…" it exhaled softly, a sigh laced with reluctant respect.
Decision made, the fox turned away fully. The courtyard's cold wind rippled through its fur as it resumed its pace—silent, deliberate. It stepped over the frozen blood trails, weaving toward the collapsed remains of Yuanji's belongings, their scattered Qi signatures whispering promises of riches and secrets.
Its muzzle curled into a pleased grin.
Now then… where were we? Ah—yes. Treasures.
Its paws brushed lightly over a shattered, blood-stained pouch that hovered midair, nose twitching as layered spiritual scents unfurled before it.
Mmm… this one's interesting. My pouch—oh, my pouch is definitely sealed with something good. Heh… such a delightful mess to unravel…
But even as it began its work—sorting, tasting, analyzing lingering Qi—its posture betrayed a constant readiness. Every beat of its heart tracked the lizard's presence. Every breath monitored the elders above. Every slight shift in the lizard's stance was accounted for in the fox's calculations.
It muttered under its breath, amused and quietly protective:
"Go on then… show me how far you can really go. I'll watch. And if anything tries to take advantage of your injuries…"
A thin, predatory smile sharpened across its muzzle.
"…it dies first."
The wind stirred.
Frost deepened.
And the fox resumed its clean-up—sorting through the spoils of the dead—while the lizard stood ready, unblinking, as five elders descended into a courtyard drenched in ice, blood, and the weight of a predator's triumph.
---
The five elders crouched atop the fractured roof, moonlight illuminating their strained faces. Their eyes scanned the ruined courtyard below, where the aftermath of battle lay bare. The cold air carried the faint trace of blood and Qi, but something was… wrong.
> Elder 1 (Luo Clan): "…I can't sense him. Not the Grand Elder. Nothing. It's as if… he's gone. Vanished."
> Elder 2: "Impossible. Not him. His presence was always anchored… stable. Even in combat. Even at the Sixth Layer."
> Elder 3 (voice tight): "It's not just him. Lin Canghua, the great elder of the Lin Clan—the one at the Sixth Layer—he's dead. His aura is completely extinguished. And the others… nothing. Not a single trace. Only echoes of their Qi, lingering, fractured… like a fading storm."
> Elder 4 "Not a single Foundation Establishment elder of the Lin Clan survived. Only one corpse… nothing else.
> Elder 3: "Only Canghua. Everything else is gone. Nothing left but broken Qi, splintered stone, blood… that's it."
> Elder 5 (hesitant): "Then… what is standing in front of us?"
All five grew still. Their gazes narrowed as they studied the courtyard again. Frost lingered, tracing spiderweb patterns across stone. Two figures moved with deliberate, unsettling calm. One small and sleek, turquoise eyes gleaming. The other—hulking, scaled, wings folded along its back—its golden eyes unblinking.
> Elder 1: "That one… the smaller one is a mid-stage spirit beast. The Fox. Yes. But the other…"
> Elder 2 (stiffly): "A Third Layer? What kind of creature…?"
> Elder 4: "…It looks like a lizard… but wings? Is that really a demon beast?"
> Elder 5 (breathing shallowly): "I've never seen anything like it. Its presence… it's too precise. Too calm. It doesn't radiate Demonic energy. It's… measured. Controlled. And those wounds…"
> Elder 1: "Wounds?"
> Elder 5: "Even injured, it stands unbowed. It's absorbing the remnants of the battle like it's… feeding on them. Nothing we're sensing can shake it—yet it bleeds. And still… it surveys. Calculates."
> Elder 2 (voice tight): "The Fox… mid-stage… scavenging the fallen. Aware of us, yet unbothered. It's watching."
> Elder 3: "…No denying it. Two spirit beasts. One Third Layer—winged, lizard-like. One mid-stage Fox. And not a single elder of the Lin Clan survives apart from Canghua's corpse."
> Elder 4 (voice trembling): "No… this shouldn't be possible. Not without alarms. Not without warnings…"
> Elder 5: "Not without traces. Look at the Qi! This battlefield—it's a message, not a fight. Whoever did this didn't merely kill. They erased. They chose exactly what to leave behind… and what to devour."
> Elder 1 (whispering): "Two predators—calculating. One Third Layer lizard-winged beast. One mid-stage Fox. And us? We're… spectators."
> Elder 2: "…Spectators of death. The Grand Elder. Lin Canghua. The others. All gone. And these two stand here… deliberate, unshaken."
> Elder 3 (gritting teeth): "We cannot engage them recklessly. Not the Grand Elder's killer. Not these beasts. One wrong move—"
> Elder 4: "…and we die. Instantly."
A heavy silence settled. Each elder's mind raced, cataloging threats, searching for logic in the impossible. When they spoke again, their voices were tight, controlled, shaped by fear and calculation.
> Elder 5: "So… the courtyard: broken, frozen, blood-soaked. Two predators. Nothing else. That's the truth. Not a shred of the Lin Clan's elders except Canghua's corpse. The rest…"
> Elder 1: "…Gone. All of them. And yet… those two stand ready. Waiting."
> Elder 2 (low, almost reverent): "We are witnessing something beyond standard Spirit Arts… beyond the rules we know."
> Elder 3: "Then we watch. And we wait. Because if we act—if we misjudge even once…"
> Elder 4: "…this ends with us."