Lianhua descended slowly to the crater's edge.
She was not rushed.
She was not angry.
She simply looked down at the fox.
Her gaze moved across the shattered talismans embedded in the stone, the fractured formation fragments still humming with dying qi, the dark blood staining the cracked ground.
Then she looked at the fox.
"You are clever," she said calmly. "But cleverness without strength is still fragile."
Her eyes shifted briefly toward the unconscious lizard suspended nearby, bound within faint restraints of qi.
When she looked back at the fox, her expression was no longer indifferent, but thoughtful.
"You are very cunning," she continued, her voice steady. "You calculate every step."
Her gaze held no mockery—only assessment.
"You assumed I would carry only a single tracking talisman. You understood that you could not outrun me. So you obscured your trail, fractured your movement patterns, and engineered a chaotic confrontation to divide my focus."
Her eyes flicked briefly toward the distant direction of River M.
"At first, I believed you were merely a distraction. That you were buying time for others to strike."
A faint pause followed.
"But that was never your intention."
Her attention returned fully to the fox.
"You were removing the talisman."
The fox's breathing was shallow, blood pooling beneath its body, yet its eyes remained sharp.
Lianhua continued, her tone even.
"And your master—the one they call the White Scale Demon."
Her gaze drifted toward the lizard lying near the crater's edge.
"It is unable to assist you."
A subtle pressure rolled outward from her—not violent, not explosive, but heavy. Oppressive. Measured.
"It is breaking through."
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"From the middle stage of Foundation Establishment… into the late stage."
The fox's heart tightened.
So she had sensed that as well.
"I was informed," Lianhua continued, "that the White Scale Demon was at the early stage. The third layer."
Her voice cooled.
"But after observing it myself, I can say with certainty that is not the case."
She lifted one hand slightly, as though weighing invisible possibilities upon her palm.
"There are only two explanations."
Her eyes sharpened.
"The first—it has concealed its cultivation from the beginning, suppressing its true level while attacking the clans."
A brief pause.
"The second—in less than two weeks, it advanced from the early stage… to the late stage."
Her gaze lowered once more to the fox.
"And the mere thought of that is… unsettling."
The air within the crater felt thinner.
"What kind of talent must one possess to accomplish such a thing?"
Her voice did not rise.
But beneath the calm surface—
There was genuine gravity.
Not fear.
But recognition.
Something about this was abnormal.
Something about the White Scale Demon defied the natural rhythm of cultivation.
And that—
Interested her far more than vengeance ever could.
She studied the fox in silence for a long moment before speaking again.
"You are not unimpressive either."
Her tone remained analytical.
"Your bloodline is common. Ordinary. Unremarkable."
Her gaze sharpened slightly.
"And yet, in less than two weeks, you advanced from the early stage of Foundation Establishment to the middle stage. Two layers."
She tilted her head faintly.
"With a common bloodline."
There was no ridicule in her voice. Only evaluation.
"That makes it more remarkable."
The wind shifted across the crater, carrying with it the scent of scorched earth and blood.
"If both of you are allowed to continue at this pace," she went on, "you will not remain hunters of minor clans."
Her eyes grew colder.
"In a few months, your ambitions will broaden. Your hunger will deepen. You will stop targeting clans."
A pause.
"You will begin aiming at sects."
The word carried weight.
Lianhua's gaze hardened.
"That is why I cannot permit you to continue."
The pressure surrounding her deepened, condensing like a gathering storm.
"Allowing you to live any longer is an unacceptable risk."
Her eyes settled fully on the fox.
"A catastrophe waiting to unfold."
There was nothing personal in her tone.
Nothing emotional.
Only calculation.
"In the Ashen Expanse, balance is fragile. Clans rise and fall—that is natural."
"But two abnormal growths accelerating at this rate?"
Her voice lowered slightly.
"That is not natural."
She raised her hand slowly.
"And I do not allow potential catastrophes to mature."
Golden Core pressure began to condense around her palm, more focused this time. The air tightened. The forest floor cracked faintly beneath the weight of compressed qi.
She was about to end it.
The fox began to laugh.
Not hysterically.
Not desperately.
Low at first.
Then sharper.
Blood stained the corner of its muzzle, its body half-buried in shattered stone, yet it laughed anyway.
"You shouldn't get ahead of yourself," it said, voice rough but steady. "Yes, you're Golden Core. But you've already been played."
Lianhua did not move.
Her gaze remained calm, unreadable.
"You are in no position," she said evenly, "to bluff."
The Golden Core pressure did not waver.
"Whatever you are attempting," she continued, "will not work on me."
The fox's smile widened despite the blood.
"Really?"
Its eyes gleamed.
"You have no idea."
Beside it, suspended within faint qi restraints—
The lizard's body flickered.
Subtle at first.
Then unmistakable.
Its scales blurred at the edges.
Its outline softened.
Lianhua's eyes narrowed.
The "lizard" began to fade, as though dissolving into mist.
The fox's voice carried calmly through the crater.
"You didn't notice, did you?"
The figure beside it thinned further.
"That wasn't the White Scale Demon."
The form collapsed inward—
And vanished completely.
An illusion.
Layered. Stabilized. Refined enough to withstand prolonged scrutiny while her focus had been divided between pursuit and suppression interference.
Lianhua stared at the empty space where the lizard had been.
Then she looked back at the fox.
The fox was smiling broadly now.
Despite the broken stone.
Despite the blood.
Despite the crushing Golden Core pressure.
Silence stretched between them.
Then—
Lianhua smiled.
Not irritated.
Not embarrassed.
Not angered.
Interested.
"Is that so?" she asked softly.