The fox's voice cut through the chaos—calm, deliberate, carrying effortlessly despite the tension thickening the air. Its black spear hovered at its side, radiating a subtle, jagged pressure that set the entire clearing on edge.
The **Crimson Fang Wolf** halted just short of lunging.
Its massive frame bristled with raw power, nearly twice the fox's size. Dark, coarse fur rippled over dense muscle, and its crimson eyes glowed with predatory intelligence rather than blind rage. A low growl rolled from its chest, deep and heavy, like distant thunder echoing beneath the earth.
"Damn fox…" the wolf snarled, lips curling back to bare its fangs. Its muscles tensed, coils of violence waiting to release.
The fox took a deliberate step forward, claws scraping faintly against the soil. Its gaze locked onto the wolf's without hesitation, unflinching. When it spoke, its tone carried neither excitement nor fear—only authority and calm calculation.
"Crimson Fang Wolf," it said, almost conversationally, as though identifying a specimen rather than confronting an enemy. "Fourth Layer of Foundation Establishment."
A brief pause.
"You are mine. Come at me—I'll be playing with you now."
The wolf's ears flicked sharply. Hackles rose. Its eyes narrowed as it reassessed the fox—not as prey, not yet, but as a rival worth caution. The air between them thickened, qi pressing down like a storm about to break.
The fox's tail flicked once—subtle, precise. Its body shifted by a fraction, the black spear following in a smooth, almost sentient motion, poised to strike the instant the wolf committed.
For a heartbeat, the battlefield seemed to pause.
All around them, cultivators scattered—some locked in desperate fights, others hiding, waiting for an opening. But in this moment, the clearing belonged only to predator and predator.
Unseen and motionless, the lizard remained perched nearby, invisible. It sniffed the air, assessing instinctively, noting the **vast difference in size and raw power**.
*Fourth layer… stronger than me,* it calculated silently. *The fox can handle this. I just need to be ready.*
The wolf struck first.
Its muscles exploded into motion, launching it forward like a released siege weapon. Fangs aimed straight for the fox's throat, claws tearing furrows into the earth as it closed the distance.
The fox didn't flinch.
The black spear extended with a whisper of dark energy, meeting the charge with perfect timing. Metal and claw collided in a sharp, resonant clash, qi rippling outward in a visible shockwave.
The fight had begun.
Sparks of force burst where spear met claw. The fox moved with surgical precision—each step measured, each strike calculated. It gave ground where needed, redirected force rather than opposing it, always maintaining balance and control.
But even as they engaged, a **new threat** screamed through the air.
A weapon—dark, sharp, spinning with lethal speed—hurtled toward the fox from the flank.
"Bet you didn't expect this," the wolf growled as it circled, jaws snapping, using the distraction to press its advantage.
The fox's eyes narrowed.
Without hesitation, it **activated a barrier**.
A shimmering, nearly invisible field of force wrapped around its body just as the weapon slammed into it with a deafening *clang*. The impact rattled the air, sending vibrations across the clearing—but the barrier held.
Unscathed.
The fox's tail flicked again as the black spear drifted back into position. Its voice remained calm, but sharpened like a blade's edge.
"I expect the worst from everyone," it said evenly. "That includes cowards who think they can strike from the shadows."
The wolf's growl deepened. It could feel it now—this fox wasn't reacting.
It had been **ready**.
The fox's stance remained unwavering as the barrier shimmered faintly, residual qi dispersing in the air. Predator faced predator, neither yielding ground, neither willing to rush blindly.
The air quivered with tension. Every movement carried lethal weight.
The thrown weapon continued its deadly arc—this time toward the Crimson Fang Wolf itself, slicing through the charged atmosphere. The wolf's ears twitched, instincts screaming, and from beneath its fur and dense musculature, it summoned its own **earth-grade spirit tool**.
A jagged stone axe manifested in its grasp, the surface etched with ancient lines that glimmered faintly with restrained qi.
The fox's eyes flickered toward it, sharp and appraising.
*Ah… that's a fine piece,* it thought coolly. *Mid-tier earth grade. I'll take good care of it once it's mine.*
With deliberate ease, the fox reached into its pouch and withdrew another spear, **clamping it between its jaws**. Jade steel flashed faintly beneath the dim moonlight as its tails swayed—subtle, coiled, ready.
The wolf's pupils contracted.
A flicker of something crossed its gaze—respect, perhaps, or greed.
*Another earth-grade tool?* it thought grimly. *This fox… is wealthy. Dangerous.*
For the briefest moment, both predators paused.
They circled slowly, eyes never leaving each other, each calculating how to turn their weapons, positioning, and mastery of qi into decisive advantage.
The wolf's thoughts churned as it moved, muscles rippling beneath its thick fur. Its gaze darted between the fox and the weapons it wielded—two **earth-grade tools** controlled by a single cultivator.
*Rich… dangerous… lethal.*
A darker thought surfaced.
*If I could take both…*
Its claws flexed.
*I wouldn't need to stay here. I'd leave with everything I need.*
But reality pressed down hard.
Even with its strength, it still wielded **only one tool**. The fox had positioning, versatility, and superior control. Trying to kill a fourth-layer cultivator armed with two earth-grade weapons wasn't just difficult—
It might be impossible.
*I can't rush this,* the wolf warned itself, circling wider. *Every move has to count. One mistake, and this rich fox becomes my executioner.*
Its ears flicked. Its nose twitched. Every scent, every vibration, every shift in qi became a thread it had to track.
**Caution. Strategy. Patience.**
The wolf snarled softly under its breath.
*I've got one shot. I can't waste it.*
Its crimson eyes narrowed.
*This fight… is going to be a long one.*
The tension in the clearing thickened further, every heartbeat measured, every breath a prelude to violence.
The fox adjusted its stance slightly, tail brushing the forest floor. The black spear remained clutched firmly between its jaws, steady and controlled.
Its mind worked with quiet precision.
*I haven't imprinted this tool yet,* it realized. *Which means I can't bind it fully. Can't control it like the other.*
It shifted its grip almost imperceptibly, testing balance and response.
The wolf watched closely, muscles taut, ears twitching at every movement.
*I can't let it realize my limitation,* the fox cautioned itself. *If it notices, it'll exploit it.*
Its posture remained flawless. Every step, every flick of its tails, every shift of weight was deliberate. The battlefield unfolded in its mind like a chessboard.
The wolf was aggressive—hungry—but still bound by instinct.
The fox couldn't rely on raw power.
It had to **manipulate** the fight.
*Use the spear as bait. As pressure. As misdirection,* it planned calmly. *Force it to react. Make it overcommit.*
Only then—
Strike.
The jade spear hovered lightly in its jaws, not yet unleashed.
A **tool of opportunity**.
The fox remained still, silent, senses sharpened to their peak—
**Ready to act.**
But only when the wolf made its mistake.