Blood **sprayed**.
The Gale Fang Night Viper never even understood what had gone wrong.
An invisible force **clamped** around its neck—pressure beyond steel—as its scales buckled inward with a sickening crunch. Its wind qi flared wildly in panic, then shattered outright, dispersing like mist under a hammer.
**Crack.**
The unseen jaws tightened.
With a wet, brutal **tear**, its head was ripped free, spinning end over end before crashing into the mud below. The body twitched once… then went utterly still.
At the very same instant—
**BOOM.**
The Crimson-Backed Dire Ape's roar was cut off mid-bellow.
All three weapons pierced through it at once.
The jade spear punched clean through its chest.
The twin jade-green blades impaled its shoulders, pinning its massive frame in place like a grotesque display.
Its Blood Fury howled, surging violently as it tried to regenerate—but the moment the spears **twisted**, its qi circulation collapsed completely.
The weapons tore free in a violent spray of blood.
The ape staggered backward, disbelief frozen across its features, before crashing to the forest floor with enough force to shake the ground.
Silence followed.
The fox landed lightly, fur still faintly smoking, eyes calmly sweeping the battlefield as corpses lay scattered across scorched, broken earth.
It clicked its tongue.
"Tch… needed to end that a little quicker."
Its gaze lifted toward the remaining figures hovering above—the last sixth-layer cultivators, finally realizing what had happened far too late.
"So I don't give you time to start thinking about escape."
Only then did the truth settle in.
The fox's voice carried across the clearing, casual… almost bored.
"Oh, by the way," it added, tilting its head slightly.
"The ape and the viper?"
Its eyes gleamed.
"They were never fighting me."
The forest **shifted**.
Reality rippled like disturbed water as the illusion **collapsed**.
The battlefield rearranged itself—positions snapping back into place, angles correcting, distances reforming as if the world itself had been rewritten.
The remaining cultivators felt their stomachs drop.
Cold realization struck them all at once.
They hadn't just been watching allies fall.
They had been watching **puppets die on a stage**—while the real killing positions had already been set.
And now—
There was nowhere left to run.
The fox exhaled slowly.
*…That illusion nearly drained me dry.*
Its divine sense swept inward—meridians aching, qi circulation rough and uneven. Barely a **twentieth** of its spiritual energy remained, the cost of sustaining layered illusions while fighting multiple sixth-layer opponents.
For a heartbeat, the fox frowned.
Then it smiled.
"Luckily," it muttered, "I came prepared."
A small jade pill bottle slid into its paw. With practiced ease, it flicked the cork aside and tipped a single pill into its mouth—a **high-grade spiritual replenishment pill**, veins of light swirling beneath its surface.
It swallowed.
The effect was **immediate**.
Warmth exploded through its core like a rising tide. Spiritual energy surged through its meridians, washing away fatigue, smoothing fractures, restoring flow. The fox's aura stabilized—then **swelled**, climbing rapidly back toward its peak.
Across the scorched clearing, one of the remaining sixth-layer cultivators finally shouted, voice tight with shock and anger.
"—It's an illusion!"
The fox's ears twitched.
It turned its head lazily toward the speaker, lips curling into a sharp smirk, eyes gleaming with renewed light.
"Oh?" it said lightly.
"You're just noticing?"
It chuckled, shaking its head.
"Took you a while, though. I thought it was kinda already pretty clear."
Restored qi rolled off its body in quiet waves as it lifted its gaze toward the last survivors—calm, energized, and very much ready to continue.
"Now," the fox added softly,
"who's next?"
The sixth-layer cultivator let out a low, steady breath, eyes narrowed as he hovered above the ruined forest.
"I'll admit it," he said, his voice carrying across the scorched ground. "Killing this many cultivators… your strength, your coordination, your tactics—it's remarkable. Enough to inspire awe."
His lips curled slightly.
"But you've shown all your cards. Blinded by arrogance dressed up as confidence."
The fox tilted its head, ears flicking.
"Arrogance," it echoed thoughtfully. "Or confidence?"
Its gaze sharpened, voice calm but cutting.
"As if *you* are one to talk."
The fox gestured lightly with a claw toward the scattered corpses, the burned earth, the lingering scent of ozone.
"You stood there. Watched all of this."
One corpse. Then another. Then dozens.
"Even after seeing this many cultivators die."
Its eyes gleamed as a thin smile spread across its face.
"I don't know whether that should be called arrogance, confidence… or plain stupidity."
A pause.
"But whatever it is—"
The fox's smile widened, dangerous and sincere.
"—I still thank you for deciding to stay."
The air tightened around them, the unspoken message settling in like a verdict:
*Because staying meant choosing not to escape.*
And that choice—
Had already sealed their fate.