The air snapped.
Not shifted.
Not bent.
Snapped.
Because the moment the tiger felt it—
everything else stopped mattering.
His eyes locked—not on the battlefield, not on the lizard—but on her.
On the fox.
On the pouch.
On what she had just taken.
"…Meihu…"
The name didn't come out loud.
It dragged itself out, low, tight, dangerous.
And then—
rage.
Not explosive.
Not wild.
Absolute.
His energy surged—not outward—but inward.
Condensing.
Sharpening.
Becoming something far more lethal than raw force.
Across from him, the entity stilled.
For the first time, it felt it.
Not hunger.
Not opportunity.
Danger.
A chill, real and unmistakable, ran through its form.
"…That's not good…"
But it didn't move.
Didn't retreat.
Because something else had already decided.
The lizard's pupils shrank.
He saw it.
Understood it faster than thought.
If that reaches—
His jaws clenched.
And then everything changed.
**Blood Fury.**
No hesitation.
No restraint.
His entire body ignited—not in flame—but in blood.
Red lightning tore across his scales, violent, unstable, alive.
His horns darkened, crimson spreading like corruption. His muscles swelled, his form expanding as power surged beyond control.
A mask, jagged and ancient, formed across his face—not worn, but grown.
His roar tore through the sky.
**RAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH—**
And then he vanished.
At the same time, the tiger moved.
No wind.
No distortion.
Just arrival.
Before the fox.
Before the entity.
Before everything.
And in that exact same instant, the lizard was there too.
No delay.
No distance.
Impact.
**BOOOOOOM—**
They didn't clash.
They collided.
The lizard didn't attack. He rammed into the tiger.
Every ounce of unstable, explosive, blood-fueled power used for one purpose.
Stop him.
The sky shattered outward, shockwaves ripping through the forest, space cracking under the force of their collision. Both were sent flying sideways, locked together, tearing across the horizon like a falling star.
The tiger's eyes narrowed, rage still burning—but now focused.
"…You again…"
No patience left.
No restraint.
His hand moved—to kill.
But the lizard was already ahead.
Claws locked, wings snapping, body twisting mid-flight, dragging the tiger further away.
"…Don't… go closer…"
The words came strained through clenched teeth, but absolute.
Because he understood perfectly.
If the tiger reached her now—
it would end instantly.
Back on the battlefield, everything had gone still.
The fox stood there for only a fraction of a second.
Processing.
Not fear.
Calculation.
Her eyes flicked once toward the direction they vanished, then to the entity, then to the pouch where Meihu's body and soul now rested.
Her grip tightened slightly.
"…So that's how it is."
Not shaken.
Not panicked.
Aware.
Because the scale had shifted.
Not slightly.
Completely.
She exhaled once, slow.
Then her wings snapped open.
Lightning crawled across them—sharper now, more violent.
Her gaze lifted toward the horizon where the sky was still tearing itself apart.
"…Then I don't have time to play anymore."
Behind her, the banner pulsed once.
Heavy.
Hungry.
The entity let out a low laugh, though less relaxed than before.
"…He's coming back."
A pause.
"…Angry."
The fox didn't respond.
She already knew.
And this time, there would be no testing. No control battles. No layered exchanges.
Only survival.
Her paw moved into her pouch again.
Not for tools. Not for talismans.
For something deeper.
Something she had not planned to use yet.
Her eyes darkened slightly.
"…Then let's see…"
A faint smile appeared—sharp, dangerous.
"…if a Golden Core can still take what I've already claimed."
Far away, the sky exploded again.
And the tiger's killing intent locked back onto her.
Unbroken.
Unstoppable.
Coming fast.
The sky didn't hold.
It split.
Not from technique.
From will colliding with will.
The fox had already turned, already made the decision—distance, space, survival—but it didn't matter.
Because he was there again.
The tiger didn't chase.
He arrived.
Right in front of her.
Eyes locked. Rage no longer hidden. No longer contained.
Focused.
The air collapsed.
Her wings hadn't even finished moving when—
**CRACK—**
The lizard slammed into him.
Jaws snapping, claws locking, body coiling around the tiger mid-air, dragging and twisting, refusing to let him move even a single step forward.
They tore at each other.
No technique.
No distance.
Just violence.
The lizard's tail whipped, lightning condensed into a piercing point aimed straight for the tiger's head.
The tiger didn't dodge.
Didn't shift.
His palm rose and caught it.
**THUD—**
For a fraction of a second, they held.
Then it pierced through.
Lightning tore through flesh, through bone, bursting out the other side of his palm.
Blood followed. Hot. Bright. Real.
The lizard's eyes sharpened.
He got through.
But the tiger didn't react.
Didn't flinch. Didn't even look at the wound.
His fingers closed and grabbed the tail.
Hard.
"…You're in the way."
Flat. Cold. Final.
The lizard's jaws clenched, pressure increasing, trying to crush, tear, end it now.
"I will kill you."
The words came low, ragged, but absolute.
The tiger moved.
Not backward.
Forward.
His free hand rose, bone markings flaring, and struck.
**BOOM—**
Point blank into the lizard's chest.
The impact didn't explode outward.
It went through.
The lizard's body convulsed, scales cracking, lightning scattering, blood spraying from his maw—but he did not let go.
Did not release.
Did not loosen even slightly.
Because that wasn't the point.
The fox saw it instantly.
He's buying time.
Not winning. Not even trying.
Just holding him here.
Even at the cost of everything.
The tiger struck again.
**BOOM—**
And again.
**BOOM—**
Each hit cleaner. Sharper. More lethal.
Because now he understood.
This wasn't a fight.
This was interference.
And he would remove it.
Piece by piece if necessary.
The lizard's grip weakened slightly, his body trembling, blood running freely—but his eyes never left the tiger.
Never wavered.
Because he knew.
If he let go—
she dies.
Behind them, the fox moved.
No hesitation now. No second thoughts.
Her wings detonated with lightning, and she shot backward, cutting distance, pushing everything into speed and survival.
Inside the pouch, the banner pulsed.
Once.
Then again.
The entity's voice echoed faintly, amused and curious.
"…Run, little fox…"
A low chuckle followed.
"…Let's see if that preparation of yours can outrun death."
The fox didn't answer.
Didn't look back.
Because she could feel it.
Even now.
Even with the lizard holding him.
That presence. That intent.
Locked onto her.
Unbroken.
Unfading.
And the moment the lizard could no longer hold him—
he would come.
And next time—
there would be no one in the way.