A pause.
Then, lightly—
"It's nice to finally meet you in person."
Meihu did not move immediately. Her gaze sharpened further, studying, measuring. Then she spoke, her voice quiet but layered with certainty.
"So you're the one from the sixth layer."
The words carried weight.
"You arrived alongside that Foundation Establishment peak beast… and you're also the same one from the auction."
A beat passed.
The fox's lips curved slightly.
"Quick to figure it out," she admitted. "I like that."
Her tone shifted—just slightly.
Warmer.
Sharper.
"Faster we move, the sooner this ends."
The air around her changed.
Her banner flickered once—and from its shadow, corpses and puppet-like remnants stirred, as if remembering invisible strings being pulled.
One by one, they rose.
From the banner, ghosts manifested at late stage. Their forms were unstable yet obedient—each carrying pressure that should not be controlled so easily. A Vital Python Loin coiled among them. Other warped spirits followed, each distinct, each dangerous.
The battlefield beneath them quieted out of instinct.
Meihu's expression finally shifted.
Surprise.
Then disbelief.
Her gaze flicked across them—fifth-layer puppets, seventh-layer constructs, and ten late-stage ghosts all held under perfect control.
"…What is this?" she murmured, almost to herself.
A slight step back.
Not fear.
Calculation.
Above it all, the fox only smiled.
Softly.
"I wouldn't step back if I were you."
Her eyes narrowed just a fraction.
"Even though we've just met… I've admired you for a long time."
A pause.
The smile deepened—not kind, not cruel.
Certain.
"And I've been wanting to kill you for even more years."
The air between them did not shatter.
It tightened.
Not from pressure.
From intent.
Meihu did not retreat again.
Not this time.
Her earlier instinct—brief, reflexive—was gone.
Replaced.
Her pink-purple eyes narrowed, focus sharpening as her mind dissected everything in front of her.
Two puppets.
Fifth layer.
Seventh layer.
Ten late-stage ghosts.
A banner controlling them all.
And the fox herself—
sixth layer.
Impossible.
Which meant—
not normal.
Meihu's lips curved slowly.
Not fear.
Interest.
"…You've been wanting to kill me… for years?"
Her voice was soft, smooth—but something beneath it shifted.
Testing.
Probing.
The fox's smile did not fade.
If anything, it deepened.
"I've been waiting for something worth killing."
A beat.
Her eyes gleamed faintly.
"You happened to qualify."
Silence.
Then Meihu laughed.
Light.
But wrong.
Like something brushing the mind instead of the ears.
"…Flattering."
Her gaze drifted—not away, but through the fox.
Through the banner.
Through the ghosts.
Feeling.
Weighing.
"…But you didn't come here just for me."
Not a question.
The fox tilted her head slightly.
"No, I did. Does it matter?"
Meihu's tail swayed once behind her, slow and controlled.
"…It does."
A step.
Not a full advance, but the space between them subtly bent.
Delicate.
Dangerous.
"Because killing me…"
A pause.
Her eyes locked onto the fox's.
"…means you walked into my territory."
Another step.
"…under my master's gaze."
The fox did not move.
Did not flinch.
Behind her, the puppets shifted.
The ghosts stirred.
Waiting.
She smiled.
"…I know."
A beat.
"And you still stayed."
That was the difference.
Meihu saw it.
Understood it.
And something in her expression shifted.
Interest sharpened into something closer to anticipation.
"…Good."
Her voice dropped slightly.
More grounded.
More real.
"Then I don't have to hold back."
The forest around them reacted instantly.
Not wind.
Not sound.
Emotion.
A ripple spread outward—silent, invisible, suffocating.
Desire.
Confusion.
Pull.
Not affecting the body.
Affecting the mind.
The fox felt it.
Of course she did.
Her expression did not waver.
Did not blur.
Did not shift.
Her banner moved first.
**THUMM—**
A heavy pulse spread outward.
Dark.
Cold.
Anchoring.
The invading influence struck it—and stopped.
Not destroyed.
Contained.
Meihu's brows lifted slightly.
"…Oh?"
A flicker of genuine surprise.
"Something that stabilizes the soul…"
Her gaze dropped briefly to the banner.
"…and binds it."
A pause.
Then her smile returned.
Wider.
Sharper.
"…Now I understand."
The fox's smile widened.
Not warmth.
Not cruelty.
But the quiet certainty of someone who had already finished counting the outcome.
"…I came prepared," she said lightly.
Her voice drifted through the charged air as though it did not belong to the tension at all.
"So if your name, Bewitching Heart, is the only thing you can rely on…"
Her eyes sharpened.
"…then you can die now."
The words landed cleanly.
No pause followed them.
No invitation for response.
Her banner reacted first.
A deep, resonant pulse rolled outward.
**THUMM—**
The ghosts bound within it snapped into motion.
Not like puppets being pulled.
Like commands being remembered.
The ten late-stage spirits surged forward in a broken crescent formation, their forms warping mid-air. Behind them, the stronger puppets followed—fifth layer on the left flank, seventh layer anchoring the center like the tip of a blade.
Then the commands came.
Not spoken.
Not shouted.
Given.
The fox's gaze flicked once—cold, precise.
**Break formation.**
**Isolate mental interference.**
**Suppress influence vectors.**
The ghosts responded instantly.
The battlefield warped as their collective presence spread outward like a net, not attacking Meihu directly, but severing the invisible threads she had already begun weaving into the space.
The air stuttered.
That subtle pull—the emotional distortion field—fractured at its edges.
Meihu's smile faded slightly.
"…Structured resistance," she murmured.
The fox did not respond.
She was already moving.
Her body blurred forward—no longer stationary—closing the distance in a direct, unhesitating line.
Meihu lifted one hand.
Fingers curled.
A ripple of pink-violet energy condensed in her palm.
But before she could release it—
a ghost struck first.
**BOOM—**
A late-stage spirit slammed into her flank like a collapsing mountain of resentment. The force was not purely physical—it disrupted rhythm, aimed directly at her mental timing, attempting to break her concentration mid-cast.
Meihu twisted mid-air, her expression tightening.
"…Annoying."
Her tail flicked.
A wave of soft, shimmering pressure erupted outward.
The ghost's form destabilized instantly.
But its purpose was already fulfilled.
Because the fox had arrived.
Above.
Her paw descended.
Not aimed at flesh.
Not aimed at defense.
At the very point where Meihu's technique was forming.
The banner followed—wrapping around the motion like a descending guillotine given will.
**THUM—**
The space between them compressed.
Meihu's expression finally sharpened completely.
"…So that's your approach."
She did not retreat.
Instead—
she stepped forward into the strike.
Her eyes glowed faintly.
"…Then let me show you mine."