The night was heavy and still.
Moonlight spilled faintly across the tiled roofs of the Shen estate, casting long shadows over stone courtyards.
Inside the shadows of his chamber, Elder Shen Yulan's eyes snapped open.
A subtle tremor of spiritual energy prickled at his senses.
Something was wrong.
Without hesitation, he rose, his footsteps silent on the stone floor.
He stepped outside, and his body rose into the cool night air.
His robes fluttered softly as he landed silently on the roof tiles.
A breeze stirred.
Yulan stood alone atop the eaves of his pavilion, his eyes narrowing as a faint shift in the spiritual flow brushed against his senses.
His gaze swept the estate—then sharply turned toward the inner courtyard.
Moments later, flickers of movement appeared behind him—one after another, silent but swift.
Four elders emerged, their faces grim, their presence radiating quiet power.
They had sensed it too.
"What is it, Yulan?" asked Elder Shen Jinhai, his voice low and sharp.
Yulan replied grimly, never looking away.
"A battle. Something's attacking the estate. Elder Lianhai is already fighting it… but his energy is unstable. He doesn't seem to have the upper hand."
The other elders exchanged glances.
"If even Elder Lianhai is struggling," one murmured.
"Then this is no minor threat," Jinhai finished, his tone cold.
Another elder's jaw clenched.
"We need to move—now."
A low hum of Qi flared to life as their cultivations rose in unison, rippling through the night like a silent storm.
Without another word, they vanished into the dark—leaping across rooftops like streaks of shadow, racing through the moonlight toward the inner courtyard.
Wind swept past them.
Silence reigned.
Until—
A flicker from behind.
A dark blur twisted out from beneath the shadow of a sloped roof—silent, swift—
SHNK—!!
The spear moved with impossible precision, so fast it barely disturbed the air.
It struck.
Elder Shen Rong, a third-layer Foundation Establishment cultivator, began to turn—too late.
His eyes widened as the black spear punched clean through his back, the tip bursting from his chest just below the heart.
Blood sprayed in a wide arc.
The others instantly turned, landing around him in tight formation—robes snapping, Qi flaring, eyes razor-sharp.
Rong crashed onto a tiled rooftop with a violent crack, stone and clay shattering beneath him.
He coughed violently, blood staining his mouth.
His hands trembled as he reached for the weapon embedded in his chest—
But before he could touch it, the black spear glowed faintly, then ripped itself free, sliding cleanly from his body in one smooth motion.
Blood exploded from the wound.
The spear spun once midair, then flew like a phantom, arcing toward a distant rooftop.
The elders followed its flight—
There, standing at the highest point of a nearby pavilion, half-veiled in shadow and moonlight, was a figure.
A fox.
Its turquoise eyes gleamed faintly in the dark.
The black spear hovered beside it.
Elder Jinhai narrowed his eyes.
"What… is that a fox?"
Another elder's voice was grim.
"A demonic fox spirit."
Yulan spoke coldly, eyes locked on the weapon.
"At Foundation Establishment... and carrying an Earth-grade spiritual tool."
He paused.
"I can't sense its cultivation clearly… but it's most likely mid-stage."
The fox stood still—elegant, deadly, silent.
Its turquoise eyes shimmered like soul-lamps under the moonlight.
The black spear hovered beside it, humming with faint Qi.
---
Fox's POV — Internal Monologue:
I thought I was just going in to take out the one controlling the formation... and assume control to prevent anyone from leaving.
But no.
I walked straight into all five Foundation Establishment cultivators.
I managed to bring one down with a snake attack—a third layer—but there are still four left:
Two at the fourth layer. One at the third. One at the second.
I've really bitten off more than I can chew.
But I can't let them join the battle.
If they do, the commotion will draw the attention of the other two clans in the city.
I have to hold them here… at least until it's too late for them to intervene.
---
The wind stirred again.
The fox's tail flicked once.
It was watching them.
A sudden wet cough broke the silence.
The group turned.
Elder Rong lay crumpled among shattered tiles, blood soaking through his robe.
His breathing was ragged.
His lips, stained deep red.
He tried to rise—
—but his arms gave out.
"Rong!" one of them called, rushing to his side.
He reached into his pouch and pulled out a small jade bottle, flicking it open with practiced ease.
From within, he drew out a crimson pill that shimmered faintly with spiritual light.
"Take this," he said, bringing it to Rong's bloody lips.
"It'll stop the bleeding. Stabilize your meridians. You—"
He was cut off.
Yulan's eyes didn't leave the fox.
"Don't."
The others froze, turning toward him.
His voice remained calm, but his tone was like cold iron.
"That spear pierced his heart meridian.
It's too late now.
Even if you give him the pill… it won't change anything."
"There's nothing to be done."
As if to confirm his words, Rong gave one last breath—
—a shallow exhale that ended in silence.
His body stilled.
His Qi faded.
Gone.