Chapter 82: Slaying the Fox
From behind a slender sapling, a shadow emerged, moving with deliberate caution. Crouched low upon the ground was a gray-furred fox, its gleaming eyes locked onto the approaching figure. Then, in a voice that did not belong to the beast, words were spoken—an aged and familiar voice, none other than Old Madam He.
“Fellow Daoist, I have come to seek your aid on a matter of great urgency.”
Chen Yan’s brows furrowed as a thought flashed through his mind. His tone carried the weight of suspicion. “Something has happened in the mountains, hasn’t it?”
The old fox let out a weary sigh. “As expected, you are a man of keen perception. I had yet to speak, and already you have discerned the truth.”
Chen Yan shook his head. “It wasn’t difficult to guess.”
The old fox continued, her voice steady but grim. “After our talk last night, I sent a dream-message to my son before returning to the mountains. I intended to make thorough preparations. Once I was ready, I would dispel the Fox Tail Formation and confront that wretched creature in a decisive battle.
“It and I are of equal realm, but its cultivation is deeper, and it wields unique secret arts. Still, I have not been idle these years. I had faith that even if I had to sacrifice my life and expend every ounce of my cultivation, I could grievously wound it. At the very least, I could force it into slumber once more—for a hundred years, perhaps even longer.
“A century from now, my son will long be gone, and those of the He Family whom I once knew will have perished. Whatever happens to their descendants is beyond an old woman’s concern.”
Chen Yan gave a slow nod. Such reasoning was sound. “But now, something has gone awry?”
A trace of unease crept into the old fox’s voice. “When I returned to the mountains last night, I observed from outside the formation—and to my horror, I discovered that it is on the verge of waking. Over the decades it has slept, its wounds have healed considerably, and its cultivation has surged—it has reached the Platform Ascension Stage.”
Chen Yan’s frown deepened. “That means…”
“It means it now stands a full stage above me.” The old fox’s voice carried rare dread. “Alone, I cannot defeat it. I wracked my brain for someone of true skill, but there is none I can call upon. Among those I can still find, only you, Fellow Daoist, have the strength to aid me.”
Chen Yan narrowed his eyes. “You…”
“I implore you to accompany me back to the mountains and aid me in slaying this fiend!”
Chen Yan shot the fox an incredulous look before clasping his hands in salute. “Farewell.”
With that, he turned on his heel and strode away.
“Wait!”
The old fox leapt forward, nimble as a shadow, cutting off his path. “Fellow Daoist! I am willing to have my son offer you an extravagant reward—name your price!”
“I have no need for gold,” Chen Yan said coldly. “And I only have one life.”
He stepped past her and continued walking.
He was no fool. Whatever lay in those mountains was no trifling foe.
It had once been at the Origin Stage, the same as the old fox, and even then, she had deemed it a mortal threat—so much so that she had faked her own death and fled the He Family, all for the sake of preparing for this one battle.
That alone proved she had little confidence in victory.
Back then, she had spoken of sacrificing her life and all her cultivation, just to force the creature into a century of slumber. And that was when it was only at the Origin Stage.
Now, it had ascended.
It was at the Platform Ascension Stage!
Such a gap in strength was no trivial thing. And Chen Yan owed the old fox no favors. Why should he risk his life for her cause?
“Wait!”
Once more, the old fox barred his path.
“If you aid me in this battle, I shall grant you my Inner Core!”
Chen Yan halted, eyes narrowing. “Your Inner Core?”
The old fox was a Demon Cultivator, and like all of her kind, she had formed an Inner Core—more commonly known as a Demon Core.
This was an object of immense value. Cultivators could refine it to extract its boundless Qi essence, use it in alchemy to forge miraculous pills, or even absorb it directly to achieve swift breakthroughs in cultivation. Some Demon Cores even held unique mystical abilities, granting the user powers beyond ordinary means.
For Demon Cultivators, the loss of their Inner Core, even willingly, was the same as severing their cultivation entirely. They would revert to mere beasts, bereft of both their power and their extended lifespan.
Chen Yan sighed. “Without your Inner Core, your cultivation will be lost. You will revert to an ordinary fox and your lifespan will dwindle to that of a common beast—you will not live more than a few short years.”
The old fox’s voice was unwavering. “I care not. If that creature awakens and I am powerless to stop it, He Village will suffer calamity beyond imagining.”
“A Platform Ascension Stage foe…” Chen Yan shook his head. “Even with both of us, we cannot win.”
“There is a chance,” the old fox countered swiftly. “It has recovered through sleep, not true cultivation. Though its realm has risen, its foundation is unstable. Its wounds have not fully healed, and its Qi remains weak. Many of its arts remain beyond its current strength.
“If we strike now, I alone am not enough—but with you at my side, there is hope. I will give my life to weaken it, and you shall land the killing blow.”
Chen Yan’s voice remained firm. “And if we fail? You die, and I perish with you.”
He shook his head once more. “Forgive me, Old Madam He, but you and I share no great bond. There is no reason for me to risk my life for your cause. Wealth is enticing, and your Inner Core is beyond valuable—but they are not worth my life.”
Indeed, even as he spoke, he knew this to be true.
Cultivation in this world had its limits. The Platform Ascension Stage was the ceiling—one could never reach the realm of the Celestials. If he were to leave for the Domain Realm in the future…
[With a Venerable Grandmother guiding me, would I ever lack for Demon Cores?]
As he turned to leave, the old fox let out a piercing cry.
“I can tell you about Chen Jue!!”
Chen Yan halted mid-step.
Slowly, he turned back, his eyes sharp as daggers.
“You… are finally willing to speak?”
“If you are willing to aid me, Fellow Daoist, then I shall speak!” The old fox’s eyes flickered with cunning. “Last night, you were not entirely honest with me either, were you? I may not know why you seek news of Chen Jue, but I suspect it is more than mere curiosity.”
Chen Yan was silent for a moment before shaking his head once more. “I do wish to know, but the price of asking you is too steep. I would be better off inquiring elsewhere. Surely, there are others who know.”
“No!” The old fox declared firmly. “Fellow Daoist, I can assure you, the things I know about Chen Jue—few others do.”
Chen Yan’s curiosity stirred. “Why is that?”
“Because what others have heard is mere rumor. But those who truly know the tale of Chen Jue—such individuals would never dare to speak of him.”
Chen Yan chuckled. “And yet, are you not one of those who merely listen to rumors? What makes you any different?”
The old fox sighed, his tone carrying an odd weight. Then, with deliberate slowness, he uttered something that took Chen Yan by surprise—
“I knew Chen Jue.”
—
Half an hour later, the black business car pulled up at the foot of a mountain, several miles from He Village. The route had been deliberately altered to avoid the village entirely.
Inside the car, the young female assistant was no longer present—she had been dropped off at the roadside earlier. Only Chu Ke Qing remained, seated in the driver’s seat, her expression a mixture of unease and curiosity.
“Senior, we have arrived. But why have we returned here…” she asked hesitantly.
Chen Yan shook his head. “I already told you on the way. Do not ask more. And it would be best if you spoke of this matter to no one.”
After a pause, he continued in a grave tone, “Remember my words—do not wander off from here. Wait for my return.”
Chu Ke Qing’s expression remained unreadable as she stared at him. Then, she gave a slow nod. “Alright. Senior, you may rest assured.”
With that, Chen Yan began preparing himself within the vehicle.
First, he pressed a Misfortune-Dissolving Talisman against his chest. Though its effects were subtle, it was said to grant a fleeting stroke of fortune—perhaps enough to make a difference in a dangerous moment.
Next, his left pocket held several Six Yang Righteous Qi Talismans—effective against malevolent entities, as he had proven when battling the Mountain Fiend.
In his right pocket, two Mother’s Love Talismans rested securely, a gift from Gu Qing Yi.
Finally, before stepping out, he affixed a Lightness Talisman to himself.
This was the full extent of his current means. He quietly circulated his Vital Energy, ensuring its flow was unobstructed. Then, he tested the movement of his Six Veins Divine Sword, Vital Energy Variant, channeling energy into his fingers. Everything functioned as expected.
Preparation complete, Chen Yan strode toward the mountain.
—
Chu Ke Qing was not to accompany him.
Though she had attained the Origin Stage, she was, after all, a cultivator of this world. Her techniques were incomplete, and she knew no spellcraft. Her sole means of combat lay in a handful of talismans.
Bringing her would be akin to bringing an unarmored soldier to the battlefield—a pointless sacrifice.
Chen Yan moved swiftly through the rugged mountain path, his figure a blur beneath the dimming sky. Within moments, he arrived at a desolate hollow—Sun Clan’s ancient burial ground.
The old fox was already waiting.
“We agreed—you take the lead in battle, and I shall assist. If things go awry, I will flee immediately. Do not hold it against me.” The old fox spoke in a measured tone.
Chen Yan nodded. “As we agreed.”
“And afterward, you will tell me everything you know of Chen Jue.”
“I will leave nothing unsaid!” The old fox vowed. “And your payment—both silver and the Inner Core—I will deliver them to you.”
Chen Yan gazed up at the mountain. “Very well. Then let us begin… How do we proceed?”
“Follow me.”
With that, the old fox leapt ahead.
Chen Yan, light as a feather under the combined effects of his Lightness Talisman and Escape Command, followed without difficulty.
The old fox moved swiftly, his lithe form slipping through the mountain forest with practiced ease. Yet Chen Yan remained close behind, never losing ground.
After scaling a ridge, they arrived at the northern slope of the mountain. There, the old fox halted.
He swayed slightly, his form shimmering before transforming into the familiar visage of Old Madam He.
She raised a hand, and from the shadows of the trees, a dim, gray light flew toward her palm, coalescing into a sword of faint luminescence.
With the weapon in hand, her aura shifted—sharpening, hardening. Even her gaze carried a newfound edge.
Noting Chen Yan’s glance, she spoke gravely. “Do not be surprised, Fellow Daoist. Long ago, I trained under a Sword Cultivator. Though I am a Fox Demon, my path has always been that of the sword.”
Her bearing was indeed formidable.
Chen Yan exhaled softly, taking note of her garishly patterned burial robes. He then turned his attention forward.
Before them, the sloping ground ended at a jagged rock face.
“This is the entrance to the formation. Long ago, that wretched thing and I constructed a Mountain Cave Dwelling here. Later, I trapped it inside. To prevent any hapless villagers from wandering in and disrupting the seal, I cloaked the entrance in an illusion.”
As she spoke, Old Madam He gestured with her sword. Instantly, a portion of the rocky surface faded away, revealing a dark cavern.
She inhaled deeply and extended a hand. A brush manifested in her palm, its tip gleaming with an eerie luster.
“This brush is made from the fur of my Fatebound Tail. Within its shaft, ten drops of my Essence Blood are sealed. Should an opportunity arise, take this brush, channel your Vital Energy into it, and strike at its brow. The combined force of my tail’s essence and my blood will inflict grievous harm upon it.”
Chen Yan accepted the brush, weighing it in his hand. He could faintly sense the currents of energy swirling within its fibers.
Good heavens… Could this be the legendary Fox-Tail Brush?
Old Madam He continued in a measured tone, “During battle, I shall stand at the forefront, while you remain at my side to assist. I give you this brush only as a precaution. Should an opportunity arise, you must be prepared to strike.”
She paused briefly before speaking again, her voice solemn. “You need not hesitate. Should danger descend upon us, I will lay down my life to ensure your survival. You are the kin of the Exalted One—if you were to perish here, he would settle the karmic debt. Even if I fall, my family would not escape his wrath. Thus, I will not allow you to die in this place.
“Moreover… in the gravest moment, you may reveal to that creature that you are the grandson of the Exalted One.”
Chen Yan shook his head. “We have come to slay it. At such a time, do you truly believe that revealing my identity will cause it to stand down? When lives are on the line, such matters are irrelevant.”
Old Madam He merely shook her head and replied, “I do not expect it to surrender. But that creature hails from the Domain Realm—upon hearing your lineage, it will, at the very least, falter for a brief instant. Even a fleeting hesitation—half a second, a mere breath—can create the opening we need.”
With her words spoken, Old Madam He took the lead, striding unhesitatingly into the cavern ahead. Chen Yan followed closely behind.
The cave had been fashioned through mystic arts, its interior a dwelling hewn by the combined efforts of two beings from the Domain Realm. The tunnel was smoothed over, its floor paved with neatly arranged stone rather than raw earth. The walls had been precisely cut, and the usual damp, musty chill of mountain caverns was absent. Along the walls, faintly inscribed spirit-gathering formations adorned the stone—a natural inclusion for such a refined dwelling. Yet, the formation was incomplete; the carvings remained unfinished, leaving its power dormant.
“We quarreled before the cave was ever completed,” Old Madam He murmured. “A great battle erupted between us. Ahead lies a stone door leading to the main hall—where I have placed the Fox-Tail and set up my formation. Once inside, do not touch anything. A single misstep could undo my array.”
Chen Yan nodded in acknowledgment.
After traversing a few dozen paces, they came upon a grey stone door. Old Madam He reversed the grip on her sword and tapped lightly against the surface twice. At once, a surge of Qi pulsed through the stone, and the door parted of its own accord.
Beyond the threshold lay a vast stone chamber.
Chen Yan entered behind Old Madam He and took in the room’s circular expanse. The walls were embedded with faintly luminescent stones, their glow weak, casting dim shadows across the chamber.
At the center of the chamber stood a stone altar, Qi swirling about it. Suspended above the altar was a severed Fox-Tail, its fur tinged with crimson. Yet upon closer inspection, its once-lustrous hairs had faded to a pallid hue, looking withered and brittle, as though ready to crumble at the slightest touch.
Stones were meticulously arranged upon the ground, forming an intricate pattern, with flickering runes gleaming across their surfaces.
Behind the altar lay a pit, freshly excavated. Qi swirled around its perimeter, forming a subtle barrier of isolation.
In the chamber’s dim glow, a figure lay within the pit.
Even from a distance, Chen Yan could feel the suffocating presence radiating from the pit—Qi had coalesced into dense, grey mists, layer upon layer, encasing the figure in an impenetrable cocoon.
From where he stood, the silhouette within seemed wrapped in a cocoon of swirling mist, its features and form obscured.
“This formation—after I subdued it, I reinforced the bindings,” Old Madam He said gravely. “Do not disturb anything. I must make my preparations. Soon, I shall unravel the array, and we will strike. Stand at the Qian position—my attacks will avoid that spot. From there, seize your moment to wound it.”
Chen Yan found the Qian position with ease—his training had long since ingrained such knowledge into him. He stepped into place as Old Madam He moved to another side of the chamber, retrieving several talisman papers, which she carefully affixed to the walls.
The chamber’s dim lighting shielded him from direct view of the Fox-Tail Altar, granting him an unobstructed line of sight toward the pit.
Chen Yan concentrated, silently channeling his Qi, activating the Qi-Observing Art.
Suddenly, the figure within the pit stirred.
A faint shudder ran through the silhouette—then, slowly, with great struggle, it turned over.
The moment the figure moved, the cocoon of Qi surrounding it briefly unraveled—like water dispersing—before reforming in an instant.
Yet, in that briefest of moments, Chen Yan saw it clearly.
A single glimpse—a fleeting vision—and his breath caught in his throat.
A bead of cold sweat trickled down his forehead.
For what he saw within the pit, wrapped in the cocoon of Qi, was unmistakable.
Clad in vibrantly patterned funerary robes, the figure bore an all-too-familiar face—
It was Old Madam He.
A cold chill surged down his spine.
Heart pounding, Chen Yan turned his gaze back toward Old Madam He, who stood mere steps away.
She remained unaware, eyes narrowed in focus, murmuring an incantation under her breath. In her right hand, a talisman paper ignited, vanishing in a flicker of fire. Her left hand formed a sword seal, her sword at the ready.
What in the heavens was happening?
Who—or what—was standing beside him?
Chen Yan’s eyes burned like twin torches, locking onto Old Madam He before flickering toward the pit, where a figure lay, bound tightly within layers of qi cocoon.
Suddenly, Old Madam He let out a sharp breath. She cast her longsword into the air, her left hand making a subtle gesture. At once, the severed fox tail atop the stone altar trembled, releasing a brilliant glow that swiftly dissipated into the dim chamber.
The airborne sword split into numerous icy streaks of light, dancing above the stone chamber, sealing off every possible avenue of escape. Behind them, the stone door creaked shut without a sound, sealing them in.
It was at this moment that Chen Yan caught a faint, urgent whisper, laced with labored breaths, reaching his ears:
“Fellow Daoist, why are you here? Run! She is an imposter! She broke through the formation today, wounded me, and trapped me here… Run! Quickly!”
Before Chen Yan could fully grasp the words, Old Madam He called out in a loud, steady voice, “Fellow Daoist, be on guard! I shall dismantle the formation at once!”
Her declaration barely faded before her hand pointed towards the stone altar. In that instant, the fox tail’s fur withered and fell away, leaving nothing but a lifeless husk. The oppressive force that had filled the chamber dissipated like mist, and with it, the suffocating aura of suppressed qi vanished entirely.
The luminous stones embedded in the walls dimmed, their glow extinguished. The drifting sword lights, as if heeding Old Madam He’s command, whistled through the air, striking toward the bound figure within the pit.
A shriek of agony split the air.
“Fellow Daoist, go now!” the voice cried out once more.
Then, darkness swallowed the chamber.
For three long heartbeats, there was only silence. Then, the walls began to glow once more, revealing a scene of chaos—Old Madam He, blade in hand, locked in battle with a shifting gray shadow.
A fox.
A gray-furred fox, its form blurred and ghostly, lashed out with razor claws and gleaming fangs, meeting Old Madam He’s every strike with desperate ferocity. Sword light rained down from above, a relentless cage of steel that cut off any path of retreat. Whenever the fox attempted to flee toward the sealed stone door, a blade would descend, forcing it back into the fray.
Old Madam He pressed her advantage, each of her strikes sharp and unyielding. The fox fought back with all its might, but two deep gashes already marred its fur, and blood spattered the ground beneath it.
Then, in a final act of desperation, the fox lunged, claws flashing. A pained cry tore from Old Madam He’s throat as she staggered back. A deep wound marred her shoulder, flesh torn nearly to the bone. The fox did not relent—it lunged once more, sinking its fangs into her thigh.
Old Madam He roared in defiance, struggling violently. The fox, sensing her resistance, slammed its head into her chest with all its strength. She coughed a mouthful of blood and was thrown backward.
But even in midair, her sword flashed.
With a whispering hum, the blade found its mark—piercing through the fox’s left hind leg and nailing it to the ground.
A piercing howl echoed through the chamber, filled with both pain and rage.
Old Madam He hit the ground hard, wavering as she struggled to remain upright. Her gaze, filled with fury, locked onto Chen Yan as she bellowed, “Fellow Daoist! Strike now!”
Chen Yan raised his hand, extending a single finger.
A streak of sword qi shot forth.
With a sharp clang, the energy struck—not the fox, but the embedded sword, knocking it free from its captive’s leg.
Old Madam He’s expression twisted into one of utter shock.
“What are you doing?!” she howled.
Freed, the gray-furred fox wasted no time. It bolted toward Chen Yan, its form blurring into motion. Mid-leap, it called out, “Fellow Daoist! I will take you away from here!”
Old Madam He, her teeth clenched in fury, summoned her remaining sword light. It surged downward in a final, desperate assault.
The fox screeched, summoning a radiant aura that repelled the incoming blades. Yet, the cost was immense. Old Madam He’s face drained of color, her body trembling uncontrollably. Her once-white hair withered, strands falling away like autumn leaves. Blood trickled from her lips, her gaze filled with unrelenting hatred.
Her voice, raw with fury, cracked through the chamber: “Die! Die, damn you!”
But at last, the fox’s defense shattered.
Its protective glow flickered and died, vanishing alongside the dissipating sword light.
Old Madam He gasped for breath, sweat and exhaustion painting her features. Her glare turned to Chen Yan, burning with malice and disbelief. She collapsed onto the ground, dragging herself weakly toward the wall. Her trembling hand rose, pointing at him.
“You… You…”
Chen Yan stepped forward, approaching the fox. It lay sprawled on the floor, its breath shallow, its form barely holding together. Still, it forced out words, weak but resolute.
“Fellow Daoist… leave now. I—I will hold her back…”
Chen Yan looked down at the creature, watching as it feebly lifted itself. It staggered, its legs quivering before it collapsed once more. With the last of its strength, it turned toward Old Madam He, dragging itself forward despite its failing body.
Chen Yan crouched beside it, his voice low.
“Imperial Jade Wine?”
The fox blinked, its voice hoarse with confusion. “…What did you say?”
Chen Yan gave a slight nod—
Then, like a lightning strike, his hand shot forward, driving a fox-hair brush straight into the forehead of the fox demon!
A piercing shriek filled the air as the brush lodged itself between its brows. A crimson blaze erupted from the fox’s forehead, igniting its entire body in an instant!
The fox writhed in agony, its howls tearing through the night as it rolled wildly across the ground. Its limbs flailed as it leaped and stumbled, crashing into anything in its path.
Yet Chen Yan had no interest in watching its suffering. With swiftness, he dashed to Old Madam He, lifting her from the ground.
“You… just now…” Old Madam He gazed at him, bewildered.
“It took your form to deceive me. I simply pretended to be fooled,” Chen Yan replied evenly. “Otherwise, how would I have gotten close enough to drive the brush into its head?”
Old Madam He was stunned.
By now, the fox demon’s frantic struggle had come to a sudden halt. With one final, sharp cry, it collapsed to the earth, motionless.
Old Madam He gritted her teeth, steadied herself, and reached for the fallen sword. She stepped forward, intent on finishing it off.
“Wait,” Chen Yan said, shaking his head. He glanced at the elderly woman. At her age, rushing in like that? Reckless.
Narrowing his eyes, he scrutinized the fox demon. Its fur, charred black, lay singed against its form, unmoving.
Chen Yan took a deep breath. “There’s no need to finish it up close.”
Raising a single finger, he unleashed a Sword Finger Technique, sending a sharp burst of qi towards the fallen fox.
The strike landed—but suddenly, a burst of light flared around the fox’s body, deflecting the energy effortlessly.
Chen Yan sighed. “I knew it wouldn’t be that easy…”
Slowly, the fox demon lifted its head, eyes filled with hatred as it locked its gaze onto him. A low, guttural voice rasped from its lips. “You’re just a boy, yet your mind is already so scheming? Too cowardly to finish me up close?”
Chen Yan waved dismissively. “Spare me. You were the one who struck from the shadows first.”
The fox rose shakily, giving a single shake of its body. Instantly, the charred fur fell away, revealing pristine, snow-white fur underneath. Within mere breaths, its entire coat had regrown—gleaming, flawless, and eerily beautiful.
White Fox?
A twinge of discomfort twisted in Chen Yan’s gut as he recalled Old Madam He’s tale about his own mother. The thought left a strange ache in his jaw.
He turned to Old Madam He and sighed. “Old Madam, that fox-hair brush of yours doesn’t seem very effective.”
Old Madam He spat blood onto the ground, slumping against the earth. Her eyes dimmed with despair. Shaking her head, she whispered, “Leave now. I have just enough strength left to hold it back for a moment. Use that time to escape.”
“Hah!” The White Fox let out a laugh, sharp and biting. “Don’t bother—neither of you are leaving today!”
Her cold eyes swept over Chen Yan, scrutinizing him with a lingering gaze. “Soft skin, strong qi—what a fine specimen! Perfect for my first meal after breaking free. Naturally, I should dine on something exquisite.”
A pale light flickered across her form—
In the next moment, the fox had taken the shape of a young woman, her figure slender yet enticing, her face adorned with an enchanting smile.
She stretched lazily, her movements deliberate, and let out a teasing laugh. Even her voice had shifted, becoming sweet and seductive. “It’s been so long since I’ve taken human form. Feels strange…”
She inhaled deeply and turned her gaze to Chen Yan, eyes filled with a sultry amusement. “Cunning little thing. Once I devour you, I’ll savor every part of your flesh.”
Chen Yan: …
Wait a second, lady—when you say ‘eat’… do you mean that in the normal sense?
Coughing lightly, he maintained a dignified expression. “Uh… how long has it been since you last transformed? Have you forgotten human customs?
“If you’re going to take human form, at least wear some clothes! Have you no shame?!”
His righteous fury burned as he glared at the fox spirit.
The White Fox smirked and twirled in place before flashing him a dazzling, provocative smile. “Hypocritical little brat. Tell me—do you find me beautiful?”
Chen Yan crossed his arms and shook his head. “Mediocre. Chest’s a bit small, legs are a little short, thighs have a bit too much flesh. Also, if you can shapeshift, why not give yourself abs? Poor effort, zero stars.”
The White Fox’s smirk twisted into a sneer. She ran a pink tongue over her lips and whispered, “No rush. Once I swallow you whole, you’ll learn just how delightful I truly am.”
…Alright, yeah, now that definitely does not sound like a normal ‘eat.’
Chen Yan mentally groaned. Then, suddenly, he raised a hand. “Hold on a moment. I have a question.
“You tricked Old Madam He, didn’t you?”
Old Madam He let out a low snort, saying nothing. Yet beneath her calm exterior, she was already gathering the last of her qi, steeling herself for one final strike.
“You have not yet stepped into the Platform Ascension Stage, have you? You are still merely in the Origin Stage.”
Chen Yan’s eyes widened as he stared at the White Fox. “But you have been awake all along, merely trapped within this formation, unable to escape. That means… you have been able to eavesdrop on everything happening nearby, haven’t you?”
The White Fox grinned slyly. “Clever little one. Indeed, I have been awake for days, merely pretending to slumber. Though this formation cages me, it does not deafen me. Your conversations within the mountain? I have seen and heard them all.”
Chen Yan exhaled, his suspicions confirmed. “Then, you overheard my discussion with Old Madam He last night. You learned of her ties here, her family, the bonds that keep her from leaving. That explains it… You must have used some illusion to make her believe you had reached the Platform Ascension Stage. In her panic, she was forced to abandon her careful planning and hasten the process to break the formation and deal with you before your power grew beyond control.”
The White Fox smirked, nodding. “Exactly. Had I not learned of her attachments, I would never have bothered with such a ruse. If she had no reason to stay, she would have simply fled. Only by making her believe I had grown stronger did I force her into desperation. She feared that if I escaped, I would harm her loved ones. That fear drove her to act recklessly, breaking the formation sooner than she had prepared for. Had she been given more time, it would have been to my detriment.”
Her gaze sharpened as she fixated on Chen Yan. “Cunning little brat, have you had your fill of staring at me?”
Chen Yan scoffed. “You’re the one refusing to wear clothes, yet you blame me for looking?”
The White Fox’s laughter turned cold. She extended her hand, and at her fingertips, razor-sharp claws glinted like freshly honed blades.
“Feigning composure, are you?” she murmured. “I have already discerned the depths of your power. You possess skill, but beyond that Qi-conjuring fingertip technique, your offensive means are sorely lacking. With such meager strength, do you truly think you are my match?”
She swayed forward, each step carrying an unsettling grace. Her smile deepened. “When I slice open your belly and feast on your innards, do try not to cry, will you?”
Chen Yan’s hand slid into his pocket, and he sighed inwardly.
[It seems there’s no reasoning with her.]
“Actually,” he murmured, “I do have one last trump card.”
The White Fox frowned, then chuckled. “A mere fledgling at the early Origin Stage dares speak of trump cards? What nonsense.”
“I am not lying,” Chen Yan said, inhaling deeply.
With that, he raised his hand. A talisman ignited between his fingers, burning away in an instant.
The White Fox’s laughter froze. In that moment, her expression darkened. A dreadful sense of unease crawled up her spine.
The surrounding air quivered. Qi surged, coalescing with terrifying precision. Every ripple of energy honed in on her, locking her within an invisible grip.
As the last ember of the talisman turned to ash—
The gathered Qi condensed into an imperceptible force, swift and silent, and struck!
There was no thunderous explosion, no brilliant display of light. Not even a stirring of air.
Yet the White Fox’s protective aura—her last line of defense—was split in two in the blink of an eye.
The attack cleaved through her like a blade through silk. There was no time for her to react, no moment to resist. Her body, from waist to torso, was severed cleanly apart.
Her severed form plummeted to the ground. Before even a single drop of blood could spill, the Qi that had felled her ignited the remains, consuming them in ghostly embers.
The White Fox let out an ear-piercing scream as she fell, her body rapidly disintegrating into drifting ash.
Chen Yan exhaled slowly and stepped toward her. His gaze was calm as he peered into her fading eyes.
The White Fox gasped, struggling for breath. Her limbs were already crumbling, vanishing into nothingness.
“Speak your final words,” Chen Yan said quietly.
She forced out a twisted snarl. “Even in death, I will haunt you!”
Chen Yan sighed.
[Haunt me? If only you knew… My grandmother is a Ghost Clan Exalted One. You would not dare utter such words if you knew the truth.]
A presence stirred behind him. Old Madam He strode forth without hesitation, driving her sword through the White Fox’s heart.
The fox’s eyes widened in shock. She released a final breath, and her life was snuffed out.
Without pause, Old Madam He knelt, slitting the fox’s abdomen with a practiced hand. She turned, holding out a blood-slick orb, no larger than an egg, and placed it into Chen Yan’s hands.
“Take it.”
Chen Yan resisted the bile rising in his throat as he accepted it. The orb was icy to the touch, yet within, traces of Qi still pulsed faintly.
“This is her Inner Core,” Old Madam He said, shaking her head. She cast her sword aside, then, weary, slumped onto the ground.
Behind them, the last of the fox’s remains drifted into nothingness. The ground held only a thin layer of ash.
Chen Yan crouched, brushing the dust between his fingers.
[Yes. She is truly dead.]
He rose, dusting his hands off.
There was no chance of her coming back.
This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation