The fox stood over the fallen body, chest rising and falling in slow, controlled breaths.
Its gaze lingered briefly on the shattered clearing before returning to the **axe** lying beside the wolf's corpse.
A fine thing.
The fox reached down and lifted it with its Qi, dark energy brushing over the fractured spirit lines. The weapon trembled faintly, as if resisting out of instinct rather than will.
The fox scoffed softly.
"As if I'd let you escape," it said, voice low and certain. "After you delivered yourself to me carrying an earth-grade tool."
Its tail swayed as it weighed the axe with its Qi, testing balance, density, and the lingering warmth of the wolf's energy.
"No," it continued calmly. "That was never going to happen."
It glanced back at the scorched earth where the talisman explosions had gone off, ears flicking once.
"You did make me burn a few talismans," the fox admitted, almost indulgently. "Annoying. Wasteful."
Then it looked back down at the corpse.
"But worth it."
The fox crouched, pressing a claw lightly against the axe, letting a thread of its Qi seep in—not enough to imprint, just enough to **quiet** it. The resistance weakened, and the tool settled into stillness.
It smiled.
"Don't worry," the fox said, tone almost gentle. "I keep my promises."
Its eyes gleamed faintly in the moonlight.
"I'll take very good care of you."
The fox straightened, axe now fully in its possession, and added simply:
"After all… you're mine now."
Around them, the battle continued to unravel—shouts, detonations, dying cries echoing through the forest—but for this brief moment, the fox stood calm and unchallenged, two earth-grade treasures heavy in its shadow.
Somewhere nearby, unseen, the lizard shifted silently through the grass, sensing the balance of the fight tipping further into their favor.
The hunt was no longer uncertain.
It was **harvest**.
The fox exhaled slowly, letting the killing intent drain from its posture.
With practiced motion, it slid the **axe** back into its storage pouch, then followed with the **jade spear**, sealing both away with layered Qi locks. The pouch pulsed once, then went still—heavy now with new weight and promise.
Its ears twitched.
The fox.
Divine sense spread outward like a silent tide, washing over the **Crimson Fang Wolf's corpse**. Fur, bone, residual energy… then—
There.
A faint disturbance. A hollow that didn't belong.
The fox's lips curled.
"Nice," it murmured.
Its Qi tightened, precise and sharp, and with a subtle pull—
A **pouch** tore free from beneath the wolf's fur, dragged out by invisible force. It floated into the air before the fox, slowly rotating, seals flickering weakly as they failed one by one.
The fox inspected it, eyes gleaming.
"Good."
It reached out, grasped the pouch, and absorbed it into its own storage without ceremony.
Then the fox looked up, gaze sweeping the forest once more.
The night wasn't over yet.
The forest erupted again.
At the far edge of the clearing, **Qi detonated violently** as two figures collided head-on.
The **rat-headed cultivator** moved like a living shadow, his fifth-layer aura pressing outward in crushing waves. His claws shimmered with sickly green light, each strike carrying corrosive intent. Opposite him stood the **Mountain-Shaking Bull**—massive, horned, muscles layered like stone beneath iron-hard hide.
Their clash shook the ground.
*BOOM.*
The Bull drove forward, hooves tearing trenches through the soil as it lowered its head and **rammed**. The impact sent a shockwave rolling through the trees. Branches snapped. Leaves burst upward like startled birds.
The rat-man skidded back, boots carving deep lines into the earth, then laughed—high and sharp.
"You think brute strength is enough?" he hissed.
He twisted mid-step, claws flashing, carving deep furrows across the Bull's shoulder. Blackened flesh hissed and smoked where the corrosive Qi bit in.
The Bull roared in pain and fury, retaliating with a sweeping horn strike that forced the rat-man to leap back again.
Nearby—
A **fourth-layer cultivator** fought desperately alongside a **massive Iron-Claw Eagle**.
The beast was a nightmare of metal and flesh—six thick limbs ending in curved iron talons, carapace layered with natural armor that rang like steel when struck. Each movement was heavy, crushing, inexorable.
The earth itself seemed to rebel around them.
One **earth snake** burst upward, jaws wide, fangs the size of daggers snapping toward the cultivator.
"Break!" he roared.
He slammed his palms together, driving Qi downward. Stone erupted, forming a jagged barrier just in time. The snake's fangs slammed into it, cracking the surface but failing to pierce through.
Before he could breathe—
Another earth snake erupted from behind.
The Iron-Claw Eagle reacted instantly.
Its talons flashed, **shearing straight through stone and scale**, sending chunks of earth and blood flying. The severed head thudded into the undergrowth, dissolving back into loose soil.
But the snakes didn't stop.
They came **wildly**—uneven, uncontrolled, unpredictable.
One coiled around the Eagle talons, another smashed headfirst into its flank, while a third burst beneath the cultivator, forcing him to leap awkwardly into the air.
"Damn it—!" he cursed mid-air.
The Bull barreled past him, shoulder-checking an earth snake so hard it exploded into dirt and rock fragments.
The battlefield had become **pure chaos**.
Earth snakes lunged indiscriminately.
Cultivators struck at anything that moved.
Beasts roared and bled.
Qi clashed, detonated, warped the terrain.
No coordination.
No trust.
Exactly as planned.
Hidden within the grass, invisible and silent, the **lizard** felt the vibrations through the soil, its mind sharp and focused.
*Good…* it thought calmly.
*They're too busy surviving.*
The rat-headed cultivator snarled as he dodged another charge from the Bull, eyes flicking across the battlefield. His expression tightened as he realized the truth—
This wasn't a hunt anymore.
It was a **slaughter pit**.
And someone else was controlling the flow.
The forest shook again as the Bull slammed its hooves down, bellowing.
Somewhere behind the chaos, unseen eyes watched.
And waited.
The **Bull** reared back.
For a single heartbeat, the battlefield seemed to inhale.
Then—
**BOOM.**
The Bull slammed both hooves into the earth with overwhelming force.
**Mountain-Shaking Stomp.**
The ground **collapsed inward** beneath its hooves before exploding outward in a violent ring. A deep, thunderous *crack* echoed through the forest as **shockwaves rippled across the clearing**, tearing through soil, stone, and roots alike.
Trees shuddered violently.
Loose rocks were hurled into the air.
The earth snakes mid-lunge were **ripped apart**, destabilized as the terrain they were born from fractured beneath them.
The shockwave rolled outward like an invisible wall.
—A third-layer cultivator was thrown off his feet, body lifted and slammed hard into a tree trunk with a sickening *thud*.
—Another staggered, knees buckling as blood burst from his mouth.
—Even the Iron-Claw Eagle flew back several feet, wings screeching against the air as it fought to keep its balance.
Cracks spider-webbed across the ground in every direction, some splitting open into jagged fissures that swallowed weapons, debris, and fragments of broken talismans.
The **rat-headed cultivator** was forced to cross his arms and brace, his cloak snapping violently as the shockwave slammed into him. His boots carved trenches through the soil before he managed to stabilize.
"…Tch," he spat, eyes narrowing. "So that beast still had that."
Dust and debris rained down.
The Bull stood at the center of the devastation, hooves embedded deep in the earth, chest heaving, horns lowered. Its aura surged outward in heavy waves, oppressive and domineering, pressing down on everything nearby.
For a brief moment—
Silence.
Then groans.
Coughs.
Panicked breaths.
The battlefield had been **reshaped**.
And hidden beneath the chaos, the lizard felt the vibrations fade through the ground, its mind sharp and focused.
*That stomp… broke their rhythm.*
Above the fractured earth, predators and prey stared at one another again—now standing on **broken ground**, where every next step could decide who lived… and who was buried.