The first talisman steadied as the fragment was absorbed.
Its surface remained unchanged—no glow, no distortion—but the qi flowing through it became more cohesive, less diffuse.
Lianhua did not pause.
She guided the second fragment forward. The moment it made contact, the talisman tightened slightly, the runes drawing inward as the paper adjusted to the added load. A faint tremor ran through it.
She compensated immediately.
Her qi thinned, slowed, redirected along the outer resonance paths rather than the core. The fragment slid in. The tremor faded. Stable.
The third fragment hovered a moment longer.
Lianhua's focus sharpened. She altered the anchoring sequence—reversing the order of two runes, reducing direct coupling—then guided the fragment forward. It merged. The talisman vibrated once, then settled.
All three talismans now hovered before her, intact.
Lianhua did not relax.
"This is not complete," she said quietly.
She began refining. Her qi moved in slow, repeated cycles through the talismans—circulating, withdrawing, reintroducing. Each pass shaved away instability, smoothing the resonance between paper, blood, and pattern.
She adjusted spacing. The triangular formation widened, then narrowed, until the qi flow between them reached equilibrium. She refined again, reducing noise, filtering excess response, suppressing false resonance.
The talismans responded subtly—minute shifts in orientation, slight changes in internal flow. Nothing dramatic. Nothing wasted.
Hours passed.
Then more.
She paused only to reassess.
"The blood is still degrading," she noted calmly. "Refinement must compensate."
She introduced a buffering layer—thin, indirect—between the blood fragment and the primary tracking array. Not to strengthen it, but to **slow the loss**. Another refinement cycle followed.
---
**[Scene Shift]**
The Moonveil Rest Pavilion remained sealed, silent, untouched by the noise of the night market beyond its walls.
Inside, nothing moved.
The lizard lay **coiled on the bed**, body rolled tightly in on itself, wings folded close, scales faintly gleaming under a thin sheen of condensed qi. Its chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm—alive, stable, but deeply unconscious. Now and then, faint elemental ripples leaked from its body: a whisper of cold, a pulse of heat, a brief stirring of wind that died before it could form.
Across the room, the fox remained within the cultivation formation.
Spirit stones had long since been reduced to dull, cracked husks. Empty pill bottles lay scattered around the formation's edge—some tipped over, others shattered. Jade boxes, once sealed tight, now sat open and drained, their contents fully consumed.
The formation still glowed… barely. Its light flickered, unstable, the lines etched into the floor dimming one by one as the last threads of spiritual energy were drawn out.
An hour passed like that.
Then—the glow finally **collapsed**.
The formation's light winked out entirely, leaving the room bathed only in natural shadow and moonlight. Silence settled. A breath was released.
The fox's eyes **slowly opened**.
Not sharply. Not alertly.
But with the calm clarity of one who had completed a long, deliberate process.
It exhaled, uncurled from its position, and rose smoothly to its feet. The faint pressure around its body had changed—subtler, denser, better controlled. Its qi no longer leaked unconsciously. Everything about it felt refined.
The fox glanced briefly at the empty bottles and jade boxes, then dismissed them without comment. Its gaze shifted to the bed, where the lizard still lay.
The fox stood quietly for a moment, then let out a slow breath—half amusement, half resignation.
"…Looks like this is my limit for now."
It glanced back at the dimmed formation, at the piles of **spent spirit stones**, the empty pill bottles, the opened jade boxes.
"If I keep forcing it," the fox continued calmly, "I'll just be burning stones for nothing."
Its ears twitched slightly. A soft chuckle escaped it.
"Two days of nonstop cultivation, and I still can't step into the sixth layer."
The fox stretched, rolling its shoulders as faint qi rippled smoothly through its body—stable, compact, fully under control.
"All I managed was this."
It tapped its chest lightly with a claw.
"Stabilize the **fifth layer**."
Its lips curved into a satisfied grin anyway.
"…Still."
The fox's eyes gleamed faintly. "I did break through two days ago. Fourth layer to fifth layer in the middle of all that chaos," it said with quiet pride. "Not bad at all."
Its gaze flicked to the lizard on the bed.
"And considering I did it while fighting, looting, experimenting, and babysitting a blind monster…"
The fox snorted. "Yeah. I'll take the win."
It turned from the dead formation, clearly content—for now.
"Never… never have I advanced this quickly before," it muttered softly, tinged with wonder. "Even a fox… even a common bloodline like mine…"
It paused, eyes gleaming as it flexed its claws, feeling the solid pulse of qi flowing through its body.
"…With all this," it continued, gesturing vaguely at the formation, herbs, pills, and spirit stones, "…I can climb higher. Faster than I ever imagined."
A faint smile spread across its muzzle.
"Resources… careful planning… a bit of genius, maybe…" It tilted its head, considering. "Who knows how far this fox could really go if I keep at it?"
Its gaze flicked to the lizard, still curled up, wings folded, silent.
"Imagine combining this kind of advantage with true power," the fox whispered, almost to itself. "The possibilities… endless."
It leaned back, tail curling around its feet, letting the thought sink in—a rare moment of pride quietly warming the room.
On the bed, the lizard twitched slightly. A soft vibration ran through its body as the system's voice echoed once more.
**{System}**
**[Evolution Complete.]**
Slowly, deliberately, the lizard's golden eyes opened. Light reflected off the irises, sharp yet tinged with a faint haze. It unrolled its coiled body, wings spreading briefly before folding neatly against its sides.
The fox, perched nearby, noticed immediately. Its ears twitched, tail flicking with a mixture of curiosity and assessment.
The lizard lifted its head, letting out a low, measured yawn, claws flexing as it stretched each muscle deliberately. Its gaze, still slightly unfocused, swept over the room, settling blankly on the scattered remnants of corpses and formation debris.
It stood silently for a long moment, the air around it heavy with calm. Then, in the quiet of the pavilion, a thought formed in its mind:
*…My eyes… still aren't fully recovered.*
Its head tilted slightly, golden eyes narrowing as it tried to focus. Shapes were clearer than before, but fine details remained blurred.
Despite the lingering impairment, a faint pulse of qi flowed through its body, stronger, steadier. Its muscles hummed with newfound power.
The lizard remained there, motionless but alive with potential, silently gauging the limits of its sight.