The fox's ears twitched once.
"Enough preparation," it muttered. "Time to digest the gains."
It leapt lightly from the bed and padded across the room toward the **cultivation formation** etched into the floor. The lines were old but precise—moon-silver grooves forming a layered convergence array designed to draw, compress, and stabilize qi.
With a flick of its paw, the fox opened its **main storage pouch**.
Spirit stones flowed out.
Not all of them—only what was needed.
It placed them carefully into the formation's nodes: four at the cardinal points, two at the inner anchors, and one at the core. The moment the final stone settled into place—
**Hum.**
The formation activated.
Light crept along the engraved lines like living veins, the room's ambient qi bending inward as if pulled by an unseen tide. The air grew dense, cool, and heavy with spiritual pressure.
The fox stepped into the center.
Its pouch flickered open again, and an **earth-grade Qi Gathering pill bottle** appeared. With a sharp twist, the seal popped free. Two pills shot out, arcing cleanly into its mouth. It swallowed without hesitation.
The fox turned once, checking the alignment of the formation, then **curled up** at its center—tails wrapping tightly around its body in a compact, practiced posture. Its breathing slowed almost immediately.
"In… out…"
Qi answered.
Streams of spiritual energy flowed through the formation, guided smoothly into the fox's body. Meridians opened. Circulation stabilized. The lingering strain from battle dissolved under disciplined refinement.
The fox's expression settled into calm focus.
*Mid-layer isn't enough,* it thought steadily. *Not anymore.*
Outside the formation, life continued.
The lizard remained where it was, invisibility no longer necessary. It crouched over another corpse, jaws working steadily—methodically tearing through flesh and bone. Blood smeared its maw as it fed, scales faintly pulsing as energy was absorbed.
The **system** chimed silently with each consumption.
Evolution points accumulated.
Gene points gained.
Inside the formation, the fox did not move.
Qi cycled.
Impurities were refined.
Foundations tightened.
One cultivated.
One devoured.
Predator and companion—each growing stronger in their own way—the room filled with nothing but the hum of formation lines and the quiet, relentless sound of feeding.
Time passed.
Silence settled.
The formation continued to hum softly, steady and rhythmic, its light washing over the curled fox like moonlight trapped in glass.
On the other side of the room—
The **lizard** finished.
It tore the last strip of flesh free and swallowed, then straightened slowly. Blood dripped from its maw, dark and thick, before it dragged its tongue across its jaws, **licking itself clean**. The stone floor beneath it was smeared with stains and torn remains, the air heavy with the scent of death and demonic qi.
The lizard stood there.
Still.
Blank.
No excitement.
No satisfaction.
Just awareness.
Inside its mind, it spoke—flat and direct.
*How long until my sight recovers?*
There was a brief pause.
Then—
**{System}**
**[Condition: Ocular Damage — Recovery in Progress.]**
**[Estimated Remaining Time: ~60 days.]**
**[Approximately two months.]**
The lizard did not move.
Its tongue slid across its maw once more, slower this time.
*…Two months.*
The thought echoed quietly.
It tilted its head slightly, as if trying—out of habit more than hope—to see. Nothing changed. Darkness remained absolute. But its other senses were sharper than ever: the fox's qi circulating in stable loops, the faint crackle of spirit stones within the formation, the lingering warmth where corpses had once been.
*After eating all that…*
The lizard processed the information again.
*Less than four months total.*
It exhaled softly through its nostrils.
Not disappointment.
Not frustration.
Just calculation.
*Acceptable.*
Its claws flexed against the stone. Scales along its spine shimmered faintly as newly integrated energy settled deeper into its body. It could feel it—stronger, denser, more complete than before.
Blind.
But far from weak.
The lizard lowered itself into a crouch, tail curling around its legs. It waited.
Nearby, the fox continued cultivating, unaware—or unconcerned—about the lizard's internal assessment.
Two months.
The lizard licked the last trace of blood from its jaws and went still, senses open, mind quiet.
Waiting.
Then its head turned slowly to the side.
There—
**five demonic cores** lay on the stone floor, still damp with blood and qi.
Two pulsed faintly with the aura of the **Third Layer**.
Three burned warmer, denser—**Fourth Layer**.
The lizard did not rush.
It leaned closer, inhaling.
The cores smelled different from flesh—more concentrated, more *pure*. The qi within them throbbed like restrained hearts, eager to be consumed.
A thought formed—quiet and deliberate.
*Demonic cores… are refined qi.*
*If flesh accelerates recovery… then this should do more.*
No excitement followed the realization.
Only logic.
The lizard opened its jaws.
The first core cracked between its fangs with a dull **crunch**, raw qi spilling out like heat from broken stone. It swallowed, and warmth bloomed instantly—spreading from its throat through its chest and limbs.
The second followed.
Then the third.
By the fourth, its breathing had deepened slightly. Qi surged through its meridians, flowing faster, smoother. The familiar ache behind its ruined eyes stirred—not pain, but pressure, as if something long dormant had been nudged awake.
By the time it devoured the fifth core, its body was **hot**.
Not burning.
*Alive.*
Energy rolled beneath its scales. Its wings twitched, instinct taking over. With a soft snap, they spread wide, catching air that wasn't there as the lizard lifted effortlessly from the floor.
It circled once, silently.
Then its body began to **shrink**—bones compressing, muscles tightening inward with practiced ease. Scales smoothed. Wings folded neatly. Its form condensed into something smaller, lighter, more compact.
It drifted down.
Landing gently—
Right on the bed.
The mattress barely dipped beneath its weight.
The lizard curled in on itself, tail wrapping loosely, wings tucked close. Residual warmth pulsed through its body in slow waves, qi settling into deeper layers—**repairing, reinforcing, accelerating**.
Its blind gaze remained unfocused.
But its awareness was sharp.
*This helps,* it noted internally.
*Recovery will be faster.*
Satisfied, the lizard went still.
Below it, the fox cultivated steadily—unaware that the lizard had already begun shaving days, perhaps weeks, from its blindness.
Two creatures.
One room.
Both growing stronger.
And outside, the night market breathed on, oblivious to what was forming behind closed doors.
The lizard lay still on the bed, warmth continuing to roll through its body.
Then, without moving, it asked—calm, direct, almost idle:
*How many points do I have now?*
There was no urgency in the question.
Only confirmation.
The reply came instantly, precise as ever.
**{System}**
**[Status Update Complete.]**
**[Evolution Points: 56,000]**
**[Earth Gene Points: 78]**
**[Wind Gene Points: 43]**
**[Acquired Genes:]**
• **Crimson Fang Wolf**
• **Venommist Serpent**
The lizard did not react outwardly.
No twitch.
No shift.
Inside, it simply processed the numbers.
*…That's a lot.*
The warmth in its body made sense now. The subtle changes—the strength, the resilience, the ease with which qi moved—none of it was accidental.
Its tail tip flicked once, slow and controlled.
*Crimson Fang Wolf…*
*Venommist Serpent…*