Both Qianlong and the fox froze mid-motion, every muscle locked as a pulse of energy swept across the courtyard. Their senses screamed in unison—this presence was unmistakable.
The fox's turquoise pupils narrowed to razor slits, tail flicking with sharp alertness. Its fur bristled as a tremor ran through its limbs—an instinctive reaction impossible to hide.
Impossible.
That's… a mid-stage aura… it thought, disbelief sharp in tone. He's still alive? I thought he was finished… I no longer sensed his presence. I was certain that meant he'd been killed. But apparently, I was wrong.
Its tail flicked again, betraying an unease it would never voice aloud.
Qianlong's grip on his sword tightened, mind racing, breath caught as he recognized the pulsing, wavering pressure echoing across the courtyard. The aura pressing down on the courtyard was unmistakable—but this is the energy of a mid-stage cultivator. Could it be… Elder Lin Canghua? Strength drained from his limbs—not from fatigue, but from shock.
He's alive…?
No—there was no room for doubt. That oppressive presence, weathered like old stone and sharp as a blade's edge, belonged to only one man.
His chest tightened. He must still be alive. There's no doubt. It has to be him.
Hope and dread tangled violently in his chest.
If Lin Canghua lived, the situation was far more complicated—and far less dangerous—than Qianlong had imagined.
The fox tilted its head slightly, ears twitching. Its mind flickered outward, divine sense probing. If the mid-stage cultivator is really still alive… what of it? It extended its awareness, piercing through layers of residual qi, scanning for a presence it had long thought extinguished.
A flicker—subtle, but unmistakable: the lizard's presence. It pulsed faintly, alive, and very much active. Ah… it's still alive, and it's fighting. Right now. It's battling the mid-stage cultivator.
The fox's tail twitched, a faint ripple of surprise in its calculated posture. It studied the readings carefully. Huh… interesting. Its gaze sharpened as it analyzed the energy flow. The mid-stage cultivator's aura isn't as strong as it should be—not from battle, but… weaker than his true strength. Something's wrong.
Qianlong exhaled slowly, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. His eyes flicked to the edges of the courtyard, where residual qi rippled in odd, fragmented patterns. If Elder Lin Canghua is still alive… and still fighting… then the situation is far less dangerous than he had imagined.
The fox crouched, body taut, claws scraping lightly against the cracked stone. Its mind was already calculating. A weakened mid-stage cultivator… still alive… and still capable of posing a threat. Interesting. This could complicate things.
Its strength… isn't what it used to be.
This isn't the result of just fighting—it's more like his cultivation is being suppressed.
It glanced at Qianlong, not for reassurance, but for acknowledgment. We may share a common factor… or face a new obstacle.
A low hum vibrated through the air, carrying a weight neither of them could ignore. Both warriors adjusted their stances instinctively, senses straining to their limits. The mid-stage cultivator—Elder Lin Canghua—was still out there, and the way his presence manifested told them this battle was far from over.
The fox flicked its tail once, almost imperceptibly. This changes everything.
Qianlong's jaw tightened. I can't let him falter. Not now.
Both paused, poised on the knife-edge of action, fully aware that the next move—any move—could shatter the fragile equilibrium.
Before the clash could erupt, the fox's thoughts sharpened, narrowing to a razor edge.
No… this aura—this pressure—it is that of a mid-stage cultivator, yes. But it isn't that of the sixth layer. Its turquoise eyes flicked, calculating the fluctuations washing over the courtyard. The depth, the density… it's more like someone at the fifth layer.
Impossible. Regression in cultivation isn't something that happens just from fighting. Even if wounded, a mid-stage cultivator does not drop an entire layer.
Unless…
Its pupils contracted, heartbeat spiking.
How can a mid-stage cultivator lose an entire level just from combat? That isn't weakening—that's regression. That only happens when—
Its mind snapped back to the sudden shattering of the defensive formation barrier earlier.
But more importantly—the silence that followed.
When the barrier broke, I didn't sense anyone. Not a single presence. Not even a flicker of qi. At the time, I thought it was strange. I assumed someone had suppressed their aura or hidden themselves.
But now…
Now it makes sense.
The mid-stage cultivator—the one I thought died earlier… he was dead. He must have been dead even before the barrier shattered.
This aura… this presence now—
it's someone else entirely.
Its eyes widened, tail stiffening, a rare crack in its composure.
A different mid-stage cultivator. We've been reading the situation wrong from the beginning.
It glanced sharply toward the direction of the clashing energies, seeing the unseen battle anew, the qi patterns rearranging into clarity.
This one… the one fighting right now…
He's not the same person.
He's a different mid-stage cultivator, one whose cultivation has always been at the fifth layer—and there's only one other person in the entire city who reached mid-stage Foundation Establishment.
Why was he hiding?
Why is he here?
And why emerge only now?
Questions rippled like lightning across its mind.
Qianlong's breath caught as he sensed the fox's sudden tension—though he could not begin to fathom its revelation.
The fox's gaze sharpened into something fierce, calculating, and cold.
This isn't what I thought at all.
The entire battlefield has changed.
There are more players here than we assumed.
It lowered its stance, qi stirring like a rising storm.
This changes everything… and we are already behind.