The talisman master's expression hardened.
With a sharp motion, he slapped his palm against his storage pouch.
"Go!"
In a burst of light, talisman after talisman shot forward—fire seals igniting into roaring flames, wind talismans screaming as blades of compressed air, thunder symbols crackling with unstable arcs of lightning. They fanned out in layered trajectories, cutting off escape routes, sealing the sky and ground alike.
The air shrieked under the combined pressure.
Yet the fox didn't retreat.
It smiled.
"Oh?" it said pleasantly. "So you're a talisman cultivator."
Its paw dipped into its own storage pouch.
"But you know… I don't exactly fall short either."
With a flick of its wrist, the fox sent its own talismans flying.
Golden barriers unfolded midair, stacking atop one another like overlapping petals. Frost talismans detonated, flash-freezing incoming flames into brittle shards that shattered instantly. A distortion seal rippled outward, twisting the paths of wind blades so they veered off, tearing harmlessly into the forest instead.
Thunder met thunder.
Lightning talismans collided midair, exploding into blinding flashes that shook the ground and lit the battlefield white.
Boom—boom—boom!
Explosions chained together, shockwaves overlapping, the space between the two cultivators transforming into a chaotic storm of light, fire, ice, and tearing qi.
The fox drifted forward through it all, barriers blooming and collapsing in rapid succession, movements unhurried, almost lazy.
The talisman master's eyes widened.
Too smooth.
Too practiced.
"You—!" he started.
The fox's voice cut through the chaos, amused.
"Talisman cultivation isn't just about throwing more paper at your enemy," it said. "It's about timing, layers, and knowing which seal cancels which."
Another talisman ignited at the fox's paw—this one silent.
The talisman master felt it then.
A chill ran down his spine.
Somewhere beside him, water rippled… and something unseen inhaled slowly.
The fox's eyes gleamed.
"And you're about to learn what happens when you fight someone who's already read your playbook."
The second sixth-layer cultivator didn't hesitate.
The moment the first formation collapsed, he retreated half a step, fingers already moving in a practiced rhythm. Formation flags shot out one after another, embedding themselves into the scorched earth with sharp thuds.
"Attack formation—rise!"
The ground hummed.
Lines of light carved themselves into the soil, intersecting, locking together. A violent pressure rolled outward as the formation completed—this one was nothing like the defensive array before. This was an offensive kill-field.
Blades of condensed qi began to spin within the array, invisible at first, then screaming into existence as crescent arcs that tore through trees and stone alike. The air itself felt sharpened.
At the center, the formation master stood calm, protected by his top-tier defensive barrier.
"You think I'll give you the same opening twice?" he said coldly. "This formation will grind you down even if you don't move."
The fox hovered in place, tails swaying slowly.
Still smiling.
"Oh, I know," it replied lightly. "That's why I'm not planning to enter it."
Its paw lifted.
The pill—small, unremarkable, still hovering obediently under the fox's divine sense—drifted forward.
At the same time—
Clang.
The formation master's barrier flared violently.
Invisible force slammed into it from the side, then again, then again.
Clang—clang—clang!
The barrier rippled like water struck by a hammer, sparks spraying with every impact. The cultivator's brows furrowed as he reinforced it, pouring more qi into the shield.
"What—?"
He couldn't see it.
Couldn't sense it.
But the attacks were relentless, precise, each strike landing at the same point as if something were patiently testing the barrier's limits.
The fox watched:
calculating
measuring
waiting.
"Go on," the fox said conversationally, eyes fixed on the formation lines. "Keep feeding it qi. Defensive tools like that love to drink."
Another strike landed.
CRACK.
A faint fracture appeared across the barrier's surface.
The formation master's pupils shrank.
At that exact moment, the pill drifted just close enough to the edge of the formation.
The fox's smile sharpened.
"Your mistake," it said softly, "is thinking the threat you can see is the one to focus on."
The unseen attacker struck again—harder this time.
The barrier shuddered, light flickering.
And somewhere within the attack formation, one of the glowing lines… faltered.
Just for an instant.
The formation master's breath hitched.
It's not random.
Another clang rang out as his barrier shuddered, the fracture spreading like a spiderweb. He forced himself to stay calm, eyes darting between the invisible impacts and the small, drifting pill that hovered just outside the formation.
Every time…
The attack came after the pill moved.
No—because the pill moved.
His gaze locked onto it, pupils narrowing.
"Whatever is attacking me doesn't intend to stop," he thought grimly. "And it keeps arriving right where that pill goes."
His heart sank.
It's being guided.
The realization hit like ice water.
"That pill…" his thoughts raced, "it's not bait for the fox's attacks—it's bait for the other thing."
Another invisible blow smashed into his barrier, forcing him back half a step. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth as he poured qi into stabilizing it.
"I don't need to see the attacker," he told himself. "I just need to break its guide."
His hand snapped into motion.
A talisman flared to life in his palm—Wind-Severing Talisman—its runes igniting as he hurled it straight at the hovering pill.
"Scatter!"
The talisman detonated midair, releasing a spiraling blade of compressed wind that shredded space around the pill, slicing outward in a violent burst meant to erase anything light, small, or unstable.
The pill was caught dead center.
At the exact instant, the unseen pressure vanished.
The next strike didn't come.
The formation master's eyes widened—then lit with fierce triumph.
"It worked."
He exhaled sharply, steadied himself, and looked up toward the fox, a grim smile forming.
"So that's your trick," he said coldly. "Without the pill… your hidden accomplice loses its fangs."
But before the words fully left his mouth—
The fox laughed.
Not loud. Not mocking. Just… pleased.
"Oh?" the fox said, head tilting slightly. "You're sure about that?"
Behind the formation master, water rippled.