The newly formed human figure took three steps toward the village—
Then stopped.
"…Right."
She looked down at herself.
Bare skin.
Bruised ribs.
Dried blood streaked faintly along her side.
She blinked once, expression flattening.
"…I can't walk into a town like this."
The lizard, now perched lightly against her shoulder rather than atop fur that no longer existed, remained silent.
The fox—no, the young woman—sighed softly.
"Of all the things to overlook…"
She crouched slightly and reached into her storage pouch again.
"There's bound to be something in here."
She had looted enough over the past months—wandering travelers, rogue cultivators, minor clan scouts. Not for clothing, of course. Clothes were usually useless. They took up space. Worthless compared to pills, talismans, spirit stones, or manuals.
"I usually throw those kind of thing away," she muttered, rummaging mentally through the storage space. "A waste of room."
Spiritual items flickered past in her perception.
Broken weapons.
Spare talisman paper.
Low-grade medicinal herbs.
Travel rations.
A cracked formation compass.
She kept searching.
"There has to be at least one robe left…"
Several more moments passed.
Then—
"…There."
With a small flick of qi, a folded robe slipped out of the pouch and dropped neatly into her hands.
Simple.
Dark fabric.
Unadorned.
Practical.
"Good enough."
She slipped it carefully over her shoulders, wincing slightly as the fabric brushed against her bruised ribs. The robe hung loosely but properly, concealing dried blood and mottled skin. It lent her the appearance of a wandering cultivator—nothing wealthy, nothing notable.
Just another traveler.
She adjusted the collar.
Smoothed the sleeves.
Then finally stood upright.
And now—
For the first time—
The full human form was clear.
She was slender, pale from blood loss but composed.
Light brown hair fell past her shoulders in soft, natural waves, catching faint traces of moonlight.
Turquoise eyes—sharp, intelligent, calculating—contrasted vividly against her otherwise calm expression.
There was nothing flamboyant about her appearance.
No obvious mark of status.
No ornament to suggest strength.
Yet there was a quiet intensity in her gaze that did not belong to an ordinary traveler.
She flexed her fingers once more, testing balance and circulation.
"…Much better."
The lizard's golden eyes studied her face carefully from its perch.
She glanced down at it.
"Don't stare," she said dryly. Then added, "Oh—right. You can't see."
Her tone was flat, but not unkind.
Her expression cooled again as she looked toward the distant village lights.
"Now," she murmured softly.
"Let's see how welcoming this place is."
She adjusted the robe once more, ensuring it concealed her injuries fully.
The lizard shifted and climbed lightly from her shoulder to the top of her head again, balancing between strands of hair with practiced ease.
Silent.
Alert.
"Guide me if anything feels off," she said quietly.
Then she began to walk.
—
The path into the village was short.
Too short.
There were no guards at the entrance.
No lanterns swaying in the breeze to mark a boundary.
No distant murmur of night conversation.
No laughter.
No creaking doors.
Just stillness.
Her steps slowed.
"…It's too quiet," she muttered.
The lizard's ears twitched once.
Then—
She smelled it.
Faint.
Metallic.
Blood.
Not fresh enough to pool openly in the streets.
But recent.
Her turquoise eyes sharpened.
She continued walking deeper into the village.
Doors hung slightly ajar.
One lantern lay overturned in the dirt.
A woven basket spilled grain across the ground, untouched.
No movement.
No barking dogs.
No restless livestock shifting in their pens.
Just—
Silence.
Then—
A sudden rush of air.
From inside one of the wooden buildings to her right—
Something burst through the wall.
Wood splintered outward.
A translucent figure shot into the open air, pale and distorted, dragging the limp body of a human villager by the collar.
Its form was smoky, stretched unnaturally thin, its limbs elongated beyond proper proportion.
Its eyes—
Glowed faint green.
The moment it emerged—
Its gaze locked onto her.
The corpse slipped from its grasp and hit the ground with a dull, heavy thud.
The ghost's expression twisted violently.
It shrieked—
And launched forward.
Fast.
Direct.
Predatory.
The lizard did not need to speak.
It had already mapped the trajectory.
She didn't move her feet.
She simply raised one hand.
Casual.
Unhurried.
When the spirit reached striking distance—
She flicked her fingers.
A compressed pulse of qi burst outward.
Clean.
Precise.
The ghost didn't even have time to scream again.
It shattered.
Like mist struck by sunlight.
Dispersed instantly into nothing.
Silence returned.
She lowered her hand slowly.
"…A wandering resentment spirit," she muttered calmly.
Her gaze drifted to the body on the ground.
Then to the shattered building behind it.
"…Low-grade."
She stepped forward, studying the faint spiritual residue still lingering in the air.
"Not strong enough to form a domain."
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"But strong enough to slaughter a village."
The lizard's ears twitched again.
There were no heartbeats.
No breathing.
Only the faint echo of residual spiritual distortion drifting through the settlement like a lingering stain.
She exhaled slowly.
"…So this is why it was quiet."
Her gaze swept across the empty street.
"…We didn't find shelter."
Her eyes hardened.
"We found a feeding ground."
A ripple passed through the air.
Then another.
From the rooftops—
From inside shattered homes—
From beneath the cracked stone well at the village center—
More figures began to emerge.
Translucent.
Distorted.
Their forms incomplete, like silhouettes carved from fog and malice.
One drifted out of a doorway.
Another phased directly through a wall.
Three more rose from the street itself, dragging faint trails of resentment behind them.
The lizard stiffened.
She did not move at first.
"…Ah."
One ghost shrieked.
Then another.
And suddenly—
They lunged.
All at once.
From different angles.
Not chaotic.
Coordinated.
Her turquoise eyes sharpened.
"So it's not that simple."
She stepped forward instead of back.
One ghost reached her first—
Her sleeve snapped outward as she cut through it with a horizontal arc of compressed qi.
It split cleanly and dissolved.
A second dove from above—
She pivoted smoothly, palm rising.
A vertical burst of force erased it mid-air.
The third attempted to pass through her body—
Her aura flared just enough.
The spirit screeched as it disintegrated on contact with stabilized essence.
The rest hesitated for half a breath.
Then attacked again.
She moved like flowing water.
No wasted motion.
Each flick of her wrist precise.
Each step minimal.
Each release of qi measured—never excessive, never strained.
One by one—
They shattered.
Until only drifting wisps of resentful energy remained suspended in the air like fading smoke.
Silence returned once more.
But this time—
It felt heavier.
She lowered her hand slowly.
"…They aren't mindless."
Her gaze lifted toward the rooftops.
Then shifted toward the treeline beyond the village.
"They attacked in sequence."
The lizard's tail shifted slightly against her hair.
Her expression cooled further.
"…And they stopped advancing the moment the others were destroyed."
She inhaled faintly, extending her perception outward, sensing for disturbance in the spiritual flow.
There it was.
Thin.
Almost invisible.
Spiritual tethering.
Her eyes narrowed.
"We're not alone."
A faint pulse echoed somewhere beyond the houses.
Controlled.
Directed.
Deliberate.
She turned her gaze toward the dark edge of the forest.
"…They're being commanded."
Her voice dropped slightly, losing its earlier dryness.
"And whoever is doing it…"
Her turquoise eyes sharpened into something colder.
"…Is watching."