The fox kept moving—
roof to roof, wall to wall—until stone gave way to soil and the town's edge fell behind them.
Trees swallowed the path. The forest thickened, moonlight splintering into pale shards as it filtered through layered leaves. The air grew damp, heavy with moss and the quiet presence of running water.
A stream cut across their path, clear and restless.
The fox stopped beside it.
No rush.
No tension in its stance.
Silence stretched.
Then, calmly—
"Alright."
The illusion peeled away, dissolving like mist beneath sunlight, revealing the fox's true form. Pale fur caught the moonlight, silvered along its spine, eyes sharp and steady—no longer playful, no longer pretending.
A quiet voice transmission followed, meant only for the presence that had just withdrawn from its mind:
"They're all here."
"Every fish that took the bait."
"Time to start catching them."
The familiar weight vanished—wings whispering once as the lizard slipped away into the dark.
The fox exhaled softly, tail swaying once behind it.
Then it raised its voice, still relaxed, still unhurried:
"Since you've all come such a long way…"
"…why bother hiding any longer?"
The stream continued to murmur.
Leaves rustled.
Shadows shifted—
not from wind,
but from movement.
The hunt had officially begun.
The forest answered.
Not with words—
but with intent.
A ripple of killing aura stirred the undergrowth. One presence… then two… then many. Figures slipped from behind trees, from boulders, from the canopy above—careful, practiced, confident in their numbers.
Six.
No—seven.
One at the front stepped forward, boots crunching against the gravel near the stream. A lean man in dark robes, a scar running from brow to cheek, eyes glowing faintly with restrained qi.
"So you noticed," he said, tone amused. "Impressive. Most don't realize they're being tailed until they're already dead."
Another presence shifted behind him—a woman with twin hooked blades, aura sharp, fifth layer. To the side, deeper in the woods, an older cultivator leaned on a staff, breath steady, sixth layer—early.
The fox's ears twitched.
Good, it thought. Exactly the kind of fish I wanted.
It didn't bare its teeth.
Didn't tense.
Instead, it tilted its head slightly, voice light.
"You followed me from the Heavenweight Exchange Pavilion," it said casually. "Through the night market. Across half the Into the forest."
A pause.
"…That takes effort I'll give that."
The scarred man narrowed his eyes.
"Hand over the items you won," he said. "And your storage pouch. Do that, and we'll leave you with your life."
The fox laughed—soft, genuinely amused.
"My life?"
"Oh, you might've misunderstood."
Its aura shifted—not fully released, but no longer hidden. Fifth layer Foundation Establishment, stable and sharp, with something wrong beneath it… something layered, folded, watching.
"And I didn't come here to run."
The stream splashed louder.
Then—
From above.
A whisper of wind.
The scarred man's eyes widened—just a fraction too late.
A jade-green spear tore through the air like a comet, qi screaming as it descended—
BOOM!
The ground exploded where he had stood a heartbeat earlier, dirt and water blasting skyward.
"Hmmp I would've been surprised if that'd actually killed you."
The fox's voice cut through the chaos, calm and almost polite. It clicked its tongue, genuinely disappointed.
"Seriously," it said, shaking its head. "Do you all rehearse this somewhere? Same threat. Same tone. Is there a handbook? 'Bandit Lines for Beginners'?"
A few of the figures stiffened.
The scarred man reappeared several paces away, robes snapping as he steadied himself. His eyes were cold now, killing intent no longer concealed. He drew a long, hooked blade from his waist, spiritual energy roaring as he released it fully.
Fifth layer.
No suppression.
No restraint.
"So," he sneered, "you chose the wrong answer. Now you'll live out the rest of your short life regretting it."
The jade spear shuddered, then streaked back through the air, spinning neatly into place before the fox. At the same time, a black spear slid free from the storage pouch, and a heavy glaive rose with a low, resonant hum, qi rippling along its edge.
Three weapons hovered around the fox like obedient beasts, their auras intertwining.
The fox's eyes gleamed.
"Oh, I'm very aware of my choice," it said calmly. "That's why I'm not letting a single one of you leave."
Its gaze swept over them—counting, measuring, memorizing.
"Because every step you take away from here," it continued lightly, "is my spirit stones running off into the night."
The scarred man's expression finally changed—just a flicker.
Too late.
The fox raised a paw.
The jade spear vanished in a green flash. The black spear followed an instant later from a different angle, while the glaive spun low, sweeping outward, its arc cutting toward the cultivators on the flank.
"Let's begin," the fox said.
And the forest erupted.