The lizard, holding the storage pouch with both paws, slowly landed, crouching beside the corpse. Its golden eyes widened, gaze fixed on the pouch.
Now I have a pouch. If I put the humans I carry with me…
It tried to open the pouch, tugging at it—but it wouldn't budge. It yanked harder with both paws.
Why isn't it opening? Don't the humans open it like this?
Lizarius asked the System, "Why isn't it opening?"
> System: The storage pouch won't open because it's locked by the original owner's Divine Sense imprint—a spiritual seal tied to their soul.
To clarify: this imprint is not the cultivator's soul, but a trace of spiritual will drawn from their soul power. It functions like a mental signature that only they could create.
Even though they're dead, the imprint doesn't disappear right away. It usually takes about 24 hours to fade naturally.
If you want to open it now, you have two options:
1. Use your own Divine Sense to forcefully erase the imprint. This requires your spiritual power to be stronger than the original seal.
2. Wait for the imprint to fade on its own.
Lizarius blinked. Its eyes widened.
Huh? Spiritual seal? Imprint? Divine Sense?
It asked, "What's that?"
> System: A soul imprint is a mark left by a cultivator's Divine Sense—their spiritual will.
It's like leaving a piece of their consciousness on an object to claim ownership and keep others out.
When a cultivator binds something with their soul imprint, like a storage pouch, it becomes locked. Only their spiritual energy can control or access it.
Anyone else trying to use it will be blocked unless they erase that imprint.
It's a defense mechanism. Cultivators use it to ensure their belongings stay theirs—even if someone stronger takes the item.
The lizard narrowed its slitted pupils, staring at the pouch.
"So I can't use it unless I remove that spiritual seal?"
> System: Correct. The storage pouch is currently locked by a Divine Sense imprint, a spiritual seal created by the previous owner's will.
You can: – Use your Divine Sense to forcefully erase the imprint.
– Or wait for the imprint to naturally fade in a day.
Huh?
Lizarius frowned. "My Divine Sense? Where is it? What's a Divine Sense?"
> System: A Divine Sense is spiritual perception—the ability to extend your awareness beyond your body using your soul.
Think of it as an invisible sense that lets you 'feel' or 'see' things with your mind instead of your eyes.
Cultivators use it to sense energy, scan surroundings, interact with spiritual tools, detect danger...
It's awakened automatically upon reaching the Foundation Establishment Realm—which you've already achieved.
In short: you do have Divine Sense. You just haven't learned how to use it yet.
To activate it, focus inward on your core—the center of your consciousness—then extend that awareness outward.
Think of it like reaching with your mind instead of your claws.
Still holding the pouch, Lizarius closed its eyes.
Focus on my core… Reach out my claws with my mind...
A moment passed. It slowly opened its eyes.
It looked at the pouch and pulled again. Still locked.
The lizard's face scrunched up. "It's not open."
It said to the System, "My Divine Sense didn't work."
> System: That's because you didn't use your Divine Sense.
Lizarius blinked. "Huh? I didn't use it? But I did..."
It looked at the pouch. Then at its claws.
> System: Focus inward on your demonic core, and project your awareness outward.
Think of it as extending a thread of your soul—invisible, but tangible—toward the pouch.
---
From a distance, the fox took a step back.
No. Too risky. Forget the pouch. I need to live.
I need to get out of here before it turns its attention to me.
It took a careful step back, muscles coiled, ready to bolt.
Just get out.
Just get out before it notices.
But then, Lizarius turned—slowly.
Its glowing golden eyes locked onto the fox like a predator.
It held the pouch between its jaws and began walking forward.
A cold spike of dread sliced through the fox's chest.
Shit.
It's too late.
It already noticed me.
I hesitated.
I should've run the moment I had the chance. But I got greedy. Now look where that greed got me.
The lizard kept walking, silent and steady, eyes gleaming. The pouch swung gently from its maw.
The fox tensed. Heart pounding. Eyes locked on the lizard.
It took the other pouch earlier. Does it want mine too?
Is that it? It already has one—and now it's coming for mine?
What if I give it up? Maybe it'll let me go.
But the fox crushed the thought.
No. There's too much inside. Too many pills. Too many spirit stones. Too many treasures.
More than I've ever had in my life.
I'd rather die than give that up.
If it wants what's mine—then it can come and take it.
The fox dropped low. Claws flexing. Teeth bared.
A low growl rumbled from its throat as its eyes fixed on the lizard now standing just a few steps away.
Then the fox shifted—shrinking slightly—its voice emerging low but strained.
"Wait… Look, we don't have to do this. I—I'm willing to give you thirty percent. That's fair, right?
I'm the one who looted everything. Giving you thirty is generous."
"I mean—there's more than enough for two. Spirit stones, pills, tools... We split it. No need to fight."
Its tail twitched. Eyes flicked between the lizard's claws and jaws.
I just need to survive. That's all.
Even if I give up thirty percent of my treasure... What's the point of treasure if I die here?
But that's the most I'm willing to part with. If I have to give it all up—that's my limit.
The fox tensed again—ready to react—but then… stopped.
It stared in confusion as Lizarius bent its head and gently dropped the pouch on the ground.
Then it looked up.
And simply stared at the fox.
Its golden eyes wide, unblinking.