The lizard's golden eyes fixed on the fox.
It said, in a low but steady voice:
"F... Fo... ox. Fox. Open it."
The fox blinked, confused.
"Hmm? Open?"
Its eyes shifted between the lizard and the pouch it carried.
Is it asking me to open the storage pouch? it thought.
Out loud, it asked:
"W-why? Can't you do it yourself?"
Then it froze. Its eyes widened, jaw clenching.
I spoke without thinking. It isn't going to attack me now... is it?
But the lizard didn't move. Its gaze remained locked, wide-eyed.
"No. My divine sense... not working. Can't open. Spiritual seal. Imprint."
The fox narrowed its eyes, glancing once more at the pouch, then back at the lizard.
Ah... now I get it.
A spiritual imprint on the pouch—it needs divine sense to forcefully erase. But its sense isn't functioning. Since I'm in Foundation Establishment, I could do it. That's why it's asking me.
So that's it. It can't break the seal. Maybe it never learned. Or maybe... it doesn't knows how to use it's divine sense.
Its eyes darkened, thoughtful.
But I can't just open it. What if it kills me afterward? Or worse... demands my own pouch?
The fox stood still, alert.
I need to be sure. If I open this thing, I need a guarantee it won't attack... or try to take what's mine.
---
The fox took a breath and said,
"If I open it... I can leave afterwards, right?"
The lizard, still watching intently, gave a small nod.
The fox didn't move. Its eyes stayed locked on the lizard.
"Just to be clear," it said slowly, "you won't attack me once it's open... will you?"
The lizard didn't answer. It only stared—those golden eyes wide, unblinking.
The fox let out a quiet breath.
"Very well. I'll take that as a yes," it murmured.
Not like I have much of a choice anyway, it thought, stepping forward with cautious, measured steps.
Its gaze never left the lizard.
It stopped just short of the pouch.
One paw hovered, hesitating a heartbeat before brushing against its surface.
Cool.
Faintly humming with spiritual energy.
Closing its eyes, the fox steadied its breath.
Then, slowly, it extended a thread of divine sense.
Delicate, precise—like a needle threading silk—it moved over the seal, brushing against invisible ridges of spiritual energy.
It probed gently, testing for the weakest point in the imprint.
One minute passed.
Then two.
Then three.
Still, the fox didn't move.
Its ears twitched slightly.
The pouch suddenly flickered with a soft light
The fox opened its eyes and drew back slightly.
"It's open," it said flatly, voice neutral, eyes still locked on the lizard, watching for any sudden movement.
But the lizard hadn't moved.
It had stayed exactly where it was the entire time—silent, unmoving—just staring.
Then, slowly, it tilted its head, golden eyes fixed on the pouch.
"Hmm. It's open."
It stood, each motion deliberate, and took a few steps forward.
The fox tensed.
It's coming closer... If it tries anything—I hope it remembers our agreement.
But the lizard didn't strike.
Instead, it lowered its head carefully.
Its jaws parted, and it bit down gently on the pouch.
Lifting it, it turned away from the fox and began walking toward the corpse nearby.
The fox didn't move, watching in silence.
Guess it's not going back on the agreement. Good.
The lizard reached the corpse and crouched beside it. Opening its maw, it let the pouch drop, then caught it with its front paws.
Holding it steady, it infused a small pulse of energy inside.
The pouch glowed faintly.
Golden eyes watched the reaction. The pouch responded—opening.
The lizard let out a thoughtful hum.
"Hmmm... It's open."
It looked inside.
"Huh."
---
The fox watched the lizard silently, thoughts swirling.
Huh... I really thought I'd have to part with thirty percent of my treasure.
But it doesn't seem like it's interested.
Good.
Best I leave now—before it changes its mind and decides to renegotiate.
Or worse... demands everything.
Its tail twitched, a quiet sign of impatience. Slowly, cautiously, it began to step back—eyes never leaving the lizard.
But then, the lizard moved.
Still crouched beside the corpse, it turned slightly, holding the pouch in both claws.
Then, without a word, it flipped it upside down.
The pouch's contents spilled out onto the ground with a soft clatter and shimmer—spirit stones, talismans, pill bottles, gold coins... a small fortune forming a glittering pile beside the lizard.
The fox froze.
Its pupils shrank, catching the shine of it all like a predator sighting prey.
Gleaming spirit stones, fine talismans, and sealed pill bottles rolled slightly in the dirt, glowing faintly.
And nestled among them—
Formation flags.
Not ordinary ones. High-grade.
The fox's breath caught.
Its eyes gleamed.
Look at all that...
Spirit stones.
Talismans.
Pills.
And even high-grade formation flags...
---
That pouch was packed, the fox thought, eyes glued to the glittering pile.
And to think it just dumped everything on the ground like garbage.
Does it even know what it's got? Or maybe... it doesn't care.
Either way, that's fine by me.
No sudden moves.
The second it turns its back—it's mine.
All of it.
If it doesn't want them, then they belong to me.
Every.
Last.
One.
I'm the one who opened the pouch. I'm the one who risked getting torn apart.
This isn't a reward... It's a mistake.
Its mistake.
And I'd be a fool not to take advantage.
The lizard, still holding the pouch, suddenly lifted it and pressed it against the corpse.
A soft shimmer rippled—and then the corpse vanished, sucked into the pouch.
The lizard's eyes widened as it looked into the pouch.
Hmm.
It worked.
It's inside, it thought, seemingly satisfied.
Just need to put the other ones inside too.
Its torn wings spread wide.
its body rose into the air.
The fox's eyes narrowed, watching it ascend.
Wait... did it dump all the treasure just to make space for the corpse?
Does it really not care about spirit stones? Talismans? Pills? Not even the formation flags?
Or is that kind of stuff just beneath it...?
Hmm...
The fox's tail twitched, ears flicking as it followed the lizard's flight.
It soared past, heading toward the other two corpses.
The fox's paws shifted, muscles tightening.
Its gaze snapped back to the pile, still untouched, still shimmering under the cold light.
It called out, voice low but pointed:
"You don't want the treasures, right?"
The lizard didn't answer.
Didn't even turn.
It flew on, wings slicing through the air.
The fox waited—still no response.
Its ears twitched.
Eyes locked on the treasure.
---
But still—nothing.
The lizard simply flew on, slow and deliberate, wings dragging through the air as it drifted toward the second corpse.
The fox watched, heart quickening.
The lizard didn't even glance back.
Then its gaze shifted fully—toward the pile.
"If you don't want them," the fox murmured, its paw sliding forward, "then I don't mind taking them off your claws.
Call it... payment."
Without waiting for a reply, it moved.
Swiftly.
The fox darted toward the treasure, a blur of fur and hunger. Its paw stretched out, and with a practiced motion, it opened its own pouch.
One by one, the items began to lift—spirit stones, talismans, pills—slowly rising off the ground and flying into the pouch in gleaming streaks of light.
The fox didn't even look down.
Its eyes were fixed on the lizard—who had now landed beside the second corpse.
It's just like in the cave, the fox thought.
It's not interested in anything except eating.
If that's the case... then maybe this might actually work.
With that, the fox turned sharply, leapt into the air, and disappeared—vanishing into the building beyond.
The lizard, meanwhile, crouched low over the corpse.
Holding the pouch close, it infused a steady stream of energy into it.
One corpse... then the other... disappeared in pulses of soft light.
The lizard sat back slightly, lifting the pouch and peering inside.
It's all inside, it thought.
Only one remains.
But I didn't kill it yet...
Its golden eyes narrowed.
Is it still inside the ground...?
The lizard turned, slowly, gaze sweeping toward the ground.
Its eyes glowed faintly, scanning the surface.
"Huh."
It raised its head—and stared.
---
We see the fox standing in front of him, holding Wu Jian's headless corpse between its jaws.
Leaning its head down, it drops the body onto the ground.
Its form begins to shrink rapidly.
It speaks.
> "I saw him tried to escape… but I killed him.
You only care about eating, don't you?
If you want, I can take you to where there are more humans.
Even demonic beasts—some at the Foundation Establishment stage, maybe higher.
You'll be able to eat as much as you want.
But all the spirit stones, pills, talismans, and tools—those are mine.
Do you agree?"
The fox looks at it, thinking:
> Does it even understand what I'm saying?
I tried to keep it as simple as I could… huh?
The lizard is already crouching beside the corpse, holding a pouch against the remains.
Seeing this, the fox continues:
> It doesn't even seem to be paying attention to me…
It's only interested in the corpse.
Maybe it isn't as intelligent as I thought.
Or maybe it just doesn't care.
A faint hum pulses from the pouch as the corpse is sucked into it.
The lizard picks up the pouch with its maw and takes a few slow steps toward the fox, eyes wide, staring.
The fox sees this and thinks:
> Why is it just staring at me like that?
Did it actually understand what I said?
Or… don't tell me—it's planning to kill me after all.
Crap.
I should've just left earlier.
It glances at the lizard—still staring, still unmoving.
Both of them just stand there, looking at each other in silence.
The fox thinks:
> It doesn't seem like it wants to kill me…
Should I try to—
---
The lizard suddenly said, "Yes, I agree."
The fox blinked, its tail flicking low behind it.
"Hmm.
You agree?" the fox repeated, narrowing its eyes.
It took a cautious step forward, watching the lizard's expression—if there even was one.
"You understand what I said, right? You get the corpses.
I get everything else."
It paused.
"The spirit stones, the pills, the talismans, the tools—all mine.
You won't touch them."
The lizard's golden eyes didn't blink.
They just stared.
"You're not agreeing just to eat me later, are you?" the fox muttered under its breath, barely audible.
It waited.
Then, taking a small step back, it thought, Guess I'll take that as a yes.
The lizard kept staring, silent.
It didn't seem able to speak properly—only short words—but it understood what I was trying to say.
That shows intelligence.