The rat-headed cultivator and the bull froze, minds racing.
*Nothing.*
No fluctuation of qi.
No distortion in the air.
No hostile presence.
The rat's pupils shrank to pinpoints as he swept his divine sense outward again—once, twice—pushing harder, ignoring the strain.
"…Still nothing," he hissed, disbelief creeping into his voice. "There's no second enemy."
The bull snorted, muscles tensing, eyes darting instinctively toward the sky, then the trees, then the frozen ground beneath its hooves.
"That's impossible," it growled. "The eagle's armor doesn't fail like that. Something is **there**."
Above them, the Iron-Claw Eagle screamed again—another violent jolt midair, lightning crawling furiously across its armor.
And still—
Nothing they could sense.
That was when the fox moved.
No hesitation.
No theatrics.
The black spear **howled** as it tore through the air. The fox charged behind it, jade spear clenched in its jaws, talismans igniting one after another around its body.
The bull's instincts screamed. It turned just in time.
**BOOM—!**
The fox's first strike slammed into the bull's barrier. Explosive talismans detonated in rapid succession, shockwaves tearing across the frozen clearing. Ice and earth erupted upward in violent arcs.
The bull staggered back—then another step—as the fox pressed the assault relentlessly.
"So you noticed?" the fox snarled through clenched jaws, eyes blazing. "Good. That means you're still alive."
The jade spear thrust forward, driving into the weakened barrier again—the black spear arced from the side, striking in perfect coordination.
**CRACK—!**
The barrier shuddered violently.
The bull roared, hooves planting firmly, qi surging as earth energy radiated from its body, pushing back the fox with sheer force.
But the fox didn't relent.
It slid low, pivoted, and struck again—relentless, precise, merciless.
Above them, the eagle's screams turned ragged, sparks bursting from its armor as lightning flared brighter with each invisible bite.
The rat-headed cultivator swallowed hard.
*Two fronts… one visible, one not…*
His gaze snapped between the fox and the chaos overhead. Realization struck too late.
"We're being hunted," he muttered.
And the hunt had already begun.
"Hunted…" he whispered, the word barely leaving his lips before the forest answered.
Above, the Iron-Claw Eagle shrieked again—not in anger, but in pain.
Another **crack** rang out as lightning surged violently across its armor. Fine fractures spread through the engraved runes, hairline at first… then widening.
"I— I can't shake it!" the eagle screamed, wings flailing erratically. "It's biting— it's tearing—!"
Invisible jaws snapped again.
This time, the lightning didn't crawl.
It **detonated inward**.
The armor flared, then dimmed for half a heartbeat. That was all the opening the lizard needed.
Its wings snapped—short, brutal—propelling it closer, jaws locking onto the same wounded point. Lightning surged directly into the cracked runes, overwhelming the defenses.
**CRACK—SHATTER—!**
The earth-grade spirit armor **failed**.
Fragments of hardened qi scattered like broken glass as the eagle convulsed midair.
"No—!" it shrieked, spiraling downward, slamming into the frozen clearing with a thunderous **impact**. Ice and earth exploded outward.
At the same time, the fox pressed its advantage.
The bull roared, veins bulging, qi surging through its body, horns glowing faintly as it tried to countercharge.
Too late.
The fox's black spear **pierced the shattered barrier**, tearing into the bull's shoulder with a spray of blood. The jade spear followed immediately, driven by momentum and the fox's jaws, slamming into its flank.
"GRAAAH—!" the bull bellowed, staggering sideways.
The fox didn't pause.
Explosive talismans detonated point-blank.
**BOOM—BOOM—BOOM—!**
The bull was thrown backward, skidding across the ice, hooves carving trenches as blood sprayed the ground.
The rat-headed cultivator's heart pounded.
One ally fallen in the sky.
Another being torn apart on the ground.
And still—he sensed **nothing else**.
His whiskers trembled as he looked toward the fallen eagle.
The ice there… moved.
Not cracking.
**Crawling.**
Something invisible stepped out of the shattered frost, lightning faintly dancing along its scales.
The lizard's silhouette distorted the air for the briefest moment as it landed beside the broken eagle.
Its jaws opened. One clean bite.
The eagle's struggle ended.
Silence followed—thick, suffocating.
The fox straightened, blood dripping from its spear tips, eyes lifting to meet the rat-headed cultivator's gaze across the clearing.
Now there was no humor.
Only certainty.
"You were right about one thing," the fox said calmly. "This ends with someone dying."
Its gaze shifted slightly—to where the air shimmered faintly, lightning crackling softly.
"But you were wrong about **who**."
The rat-headed cultivator took a step back.
For the first time since entering the woods—he felt fear.
He froze, muscles coiled like springs ready to launch, but the words sank deeper than any barrier could protect him. Every instinct screamed danger. Yet his senses betrayed him—there was nothing to detect, nothing to gauge the threat.
The fox's voice cut through the tension like steel. Calm. Deadly. Controlled.
"You thought you were in charge," it said, tail flicking lazily. "You thought a single strategy would decide the outcome."
From the corner of his eyes, he saw shadows shift—but nothing. Only the broken eagle, the bleeding bull, the shattered battlefield, the smell of iron and ozone thick in the air—a reminder of the unseen predator waiting.
The lizard, invisible, crouched low. Every scale and claw coiled, waiting. It didn't hesitate. The faint scent of the rat's blood spiked through the air, mingled with his fear. Enough.
The fox took a deliberate step forward. Black spear glowing faintly, explosive talismans spinning lazily around it.
"You still think you can gamble with lives?" it asked. "You've already lost more than you realize."
The rat-headed cultivator's pupils constricted. His mind raced—could he escape? Force the fox to commit? Detect the lizard in time?
Before he could act, the ground quivered violently. Not from the fox's presence. Not from the talismans. From the lizard. Its claws dug into the earth, qi rippling outward in precise waves.
The bull tried to roar, to rally what was left of its strength, but the fox's spear pinned it just long enough. That was all the lizard needed.
In a single, fluid motion, it **launched**. Wings spread, tail coiled, jaws wide—then lunged directly at the rat-headed cultivator.
He froze. Every sense flared. Too late. The lizard's fangs found their mark, biting cleanly into the shoulder. The cultivator twisted, but the lizard's body flowed like liquid steel, following every move.
"You were confident," the fox said, voice low but carrying across the clearing. "Confident enough to think none of this would touch you."
The rat's struggles weakened. The lizard tightened its grip, radiating a quiet, terrifying aura of **inevitability**.
The fox's eyes scanned the battlefield. Only the bull remained, wounded but conscious.
"Your friend?" it muttered, tilting its head toward the massive hooved figure.
The bull groaned low, lowering its horns, realizing it was alone, outmatched, and surrounded.
The fox's tails swayed lazily, explosive talismans orbiting, black spear ready.
"Decide quickly," it said. "Do you run? Do you fight? Or do you accept the outcome that's already written?"
The lizard's jaws snapped again. The rat's growl cut short. Its body stilled.
One by one, the survivors of the ambush were accounted for. Choices shrinking with every second.
In the clearing, the fox and its invisible companion stood **untouchable, inevitable, patient**—waiting.
The air hummed. Tension radiated like electricity.
The bull took a slow, measured step back.
It realized, finally, this fight was no longer about strength or numbers—it was about **survival**.
The fox's voice cut through the silence.
"Choose wisely. The wrong move, and you won't even see it coming."
The lizard, invisible, crouched lower, senses locked on the last standing cultivator.
The hunt… was far from over.