Its mind replayed the battle in flashes: the speed, the precision, the way the lizard moved through attacks like they didn't exist. The instant the cultivator died. No resistance. No struggle. Just—death.
The lynx's pupils tightened.
*If I hesitated for even a moment…*
It pushed harder. Faster. Distance. It needed more distance.
Its bloodline ability flickered faintly again—not to fight, but to mask its presence, to distort its trail as it weaved unpredictably through the forest.
Minutes passed. Then more.
Only when it was certain—certain it had put enough space between itself and that thing—did it slow.
Gradually. Carefully.
Its body lowered as it came to a stop atop a large, moss-covered rock deep within the mountains.
The forest here was quieter. Denser. Safer. For now.
The lynx stood still. Listening. Sensing. Nothing. No pursuit. No pressure. No golden eyes watching from the dark.
Only then—did it exhale.
A slow, controlled breath. Its legs bent slightly as it sat. The tension in its body didn't fade completely. Not yet.
Its green eyes stared into the forest ahead. Cold. Focused.
*That wasn't normal.*
Not a beast. Not a cultivator. Something else. Something that hunted both.
Its tail curled slightly around its body. The wound on its shoulder pulsed again, drawing its attention. It glanced down briefly, then away. Pain didn't matter.
What mattered—was what it had learned.
The lynx remained still atop the moss-covered rock. Its green eyes stared into the forest, thoughts moving rapidly.
*The plan…*
Its tail twitched faintly.
*It can't continue like this.*
Both cultivators were dead. Its support—gone. The balance it had relied on—broken. Everything had changed in a single encounter.
It needed to—
Its thoughts stopped mid-way. Its body stiffened. A faint pulse spread from its shoulder. Then another.
The lynx's gaze slowly dropped to the wound. Dark. Too dark.
The blood around the torn flesh wasn't just red—it carried a faint, unnatural tint.
Its pupils shrank.
"…Poison."
The word came out low. Realization hit instantly.
*The claws.* That creature's attack—it hadn't just been physical. Its tail lashed once behind it.
"…Tch."
The lynx's breathing deepened slightly as it focused inward.
The poison was already spreading. Not violently. Not explosively. But steadily. Like something alive. Creeping through its meridians. Disrupting the flow of spiritual energy.
Its muscles tensed.
*Fast.* Too fast.
If left alone—it wouldn't kill immediately. But it would weaken. Slow it down. Make it vulnerable.
And in a place like this—that was the same as death.
The lynx's eyes sharpened.
*I need to get rid of it. Now.*
No hesitation.
Its body lowered slightly, then pushed off the rock, landing silently on the forest floor.
Its movements were no longer just cautious—they were urgent.
It began moving again. Not in a straight line—but with purpose. Through dense trees. Over roots. Deeper into the mountain.
It knew places. Old places. Where spiritual herbs grew. Where energy was thick enough to suppress toxins. Where it could purge this before it spread further.
Its speed increased. Despite the pain. Despite the burning sensation crawling through its body.
Because one thing was clear—
If it didn't act now—
The next time it faced that creature…
It wouldn't escape.
Deep within the concealed cave—
Silence reigned.
Faint spiritual light pulsed softly along the walls. The formations laid earlier by the fox hummed quietly, masking the cave's presence from the outside world.
At the center—
She sat perfectly still. Eyes closed. Completely focused.
Before her, suspended in the air, floated the **spiritual tool**. Its surface was etched with intricate patterns that glowed and dimmed in a slow, steady rhythm, as if it were breathing.
The aura it released was heavier than anything she had ever handled. This was no ordinary item.
It belonged to a **Golden Core cultivator**.
The fox's ears twitched slightly as her spiritual sense wrapped tightly around it, probing, refining, attempting to understand and bind it.
Her expression remained calm—but beneath it, her focus was absolute.
Then—
A faint ripple passed through the air. So subtle it barely disturbed the cave.
Her ears twitched again. One eye slowly opened.
"…Took you long enough."
Her voice was quiet. Casual. As if she had been expecting him.
Near the cave entrance—nothing could be seen.
But the air shifted.
Then—a small figure began to appear. Fading into existence.
The lizard.
Still holding the sword in his jaws, storage pouches resting around his neck, golden eyes glowing faintly in the dim cave light.
He said nothing. He simply walked in, calm and deliberate.
The fox glanced at him briefly, then her gaze dropped to what he carried.
Her eyebrow twitched slightly.
"…You robbed someone too?"
A faint smirk curved her muzzle.
"Efficient."
The spiritual tool continued to float between them, pulsing softly.
Her eyes lingered on the blade in his jaws for a moment longer before she added—
"…That one's not bad."
Then, as if nothing unusual had happened, she closed her eye again. Returning to her focus.
"But don't wander too far next time." Her voice lightened slightly. "Things are getting interesting."
The cave fell quiet once more. Two predators. One refining. One returning from the hunt. Outside, the mountains remained as dangerous as ever.
After a while—
The fox exhaled slowly. The spiritual tool hovering before her flickered once more… then dimmed. Her ears drooped slightly in annoyance.
"…You know." She waved a paw lazily. "I've been at this for a while now, and I've gotten nowhere."
Her turquoise eyes narrowed at the floating artifact.
"A Golden Core cultivator's soul imprint isn't something you just peel off like bark."
The tool pulsed faintly, as if resisting her even now.
Her lip twitched.
"Tch. Stubborn thing."