The fox hovered in silence for a moment longer—watching him. Watching the ape grin at a victory that didn't exist.
"…This damn monkey…" Her voice was low. Cold. "…dares to steal *my* things?"
Her gaze shifted. Locked onto the staff.
A rough, brown weapon—coiled tightly within the ape's tail. Gripped protectively.
Her eyes gleamed. Sharp. Hungry.
"…But this…" She tilted her head slightly. "…this tool is actually useful."
A faint hum lingered around it. Subtle. Undeniable.
"…Something that can disrupt the connection to a spiritual tool…" A small smile touched her lips. "…and it ended up wasted in the hands of *this* monkey?"
Her wings flickered—lightning crackling faintly. "…No."
She moved.
Not fast. Not flashy.
Just *inevitable.*
In an instant, she was in front of him.
The ape didn't react. Didn't resist. Didn't even blink.
Still smiling. Still dreaming.
Her sense reached out—and with a sharp pull—**she ripped the staff free from his tail.**
No struggle. No resistance.
"…I won't let that continue."
The staff vanished into her storage pouch.
Her movements didn't stop.
Next—the jade disk. Still strapped across his arm.
She tore it off just as easily.
"…Wasting tools like this…"
Gone. Stored.
Then—the pouch hanging around his neck.
A quick tug—the strap snapped—it joined the rest.
"…in the arms of a damn monkey…"
She didn't even look inside. Didn't need to.
Everything—hers now.
Only one thing remained.
The sword.
The very blade the ape stood upon—hovering mid-air. Balanced. Unaware.
Her sense rose—and gripped it.
For the first time—the air shifted. Slightly.
"…Let's see you smile without this."
She pulled.
The sword vanished into her pouch.
And just like that—the support beneath him disappeared.
The ape dropped.
Fast.
No control.
No awareness.
**CRASH.**
Impact slammed through his body—jolting everything.
The illusion—shattered.
His eyes flickered.
The turquoise glow broke—fracturing.
Reality rushed back in.
Pain.
Weight.
Loss.
The grin on his face faltered—just slightly—as awareness began to creep in.
Too late.
Everything he thought he had won—was already gone.
The ape lay still for a moment—then—a twitch.
A breath. Sharp. Uneven.
"…What…?"
His voice came out hoarse. Confused. "…what just happened…?"
Slowly, he pushed himself up.
His vision swam.
His head throbbed.
His eyes flickered—glancing around. Searching.
Nothing made sense.
"…Looks like that woke you up." The voice came from above.
The ape froze.
Slowly, he lifted his head.
There—hovering in the air—wings spread, arcs of lightning faintly crackling—
The fox.
His eyes widened. Shock cut clean through the confusion.
"…You… shouldn't be—" His voice faltered. "…How are you—? I've—"
"…If looking into your eyes has consequences…"
Her voice cut through his words. Calm. Steady.
"…then you should've remembered…"
A faint smile curved her lips. "…it goes both ways."
Her turquoise eyes gleamed. Bright. Unforgiving. "…Looking into *mine* has consequences too."
The ape stared.
Frozen.
His mind raced.
Replaying.
Breaking apart everything he thought had just happened.
"…Illusion…" The word slipped out. Low. Tight.
His teeth clenched. Hard.
The fox's smile widened slightly. "There you go. I was starting to think I'd have to spell it out for you."
Silence.
Then—sudden movement.
**SHRK—!**
The ape's arm drove forward—piercing straight through his own shoulder.
Blood sprayed. Hot. Violent.
The fox's eyes narrowed slightly. "…You don't need to do that. This isn't an illusion."
But the ape—smiled. Slowly.
He lifted his head—staring directly at her.
Crimson eyes gleaming. Clear. Focused.
"…I know."
Blood ran down his arm as he pulled it free—flesh tearing—bone shifting.
He didn't flinch. Didn't hesitate.
"…I just needed to confirm."
His breathing steadied. His posture shifted.
Something changed.
"…And now I have."
The blood ran down his arm—thick. Dark.
But instead of stopping it—he spread it. Across his own body.
Fingers dragging through red—smearing symbols into his white fur—
No—not fur.
Not just fur.
His chest.
Mark after mark—deliberate. Precise.
His expression hardened. Focused. Calculating.
"…If I want to survive this…"
Another line. Drawn in blood.
"…this is my only option."
The air grew heavier. Different.
Not illusion. Not trickery.
Something else. Something dangerous.
The last line hung in the air—heavy. Final.
The fox's eyes narrowed slightly as she watched him.
"…Oh?" A faint tilt of her head. "…So you *do* have something left."
Below—the ape didn't respond.
His fingers continued to move—slow. Deliberate.
Blood traced across his chest—curving, interlocking—forming something far too structured to be random.
Ancient.
The moment the final line connected—the air dropped.
Not shifted. Not stirred.
Dropped.
Like the world itself had sunk an inch lower.
The fox's wings stilled. The faint lightning along them flickered—then snapped back sharper.
Her gaze sharpened. "…That's not just desperation."
Below—the ape exhaled. Slow. Controlled.
Steam rose faintly from his body—heat meeting air—
Then—the blood moved.
Not dripping. Not falling.
Moving.
The markings across his chest began to glow—deep crimson—pulsing like a second heartbeat.
"…You took everything."
His voice came out quieter now. He tilted his head slightly—cracking—bones shifting back into place.
"…That means I don't have to hold back anymore."
The ground beneath him fractured. A thin line at first—then—**CRACK.**
It spread outward.
The fox's eyes flicked downward—tracking it—calculating.
"…A blood art."
Her voice was softer now. More focused. "…You're burning your own blood essence."
The markings flared—then collapsed inward. Silence—for half a second.
Then—**BOOM.**
The pressure exploded outward. Dust. Stone. Air.
Everything shoved back in a violent burst.
The ape vanished from where he stood.
The fox's pupils shrank—**He's fast.**
Distortion—just beneath her.
Too late.
**CRACK—!**
The impact tore through the air as his fist drove upward—aimed straight for her core.
Lightning snapped. Her body twisted mid-air—barely—just enough.
His fist grazed past her side—**CLANG**—slamming into her armor—but not enough.
She vanished in a flash—reappearing several meters back, hovering, steady.
A thin line of blood slid down her side.
Silence.
The ape landed below—knees bending.
Then slowly stood.
The markings across his body burned brighter now—unstable. Hungry.
The fox exhaled softly.
"…So that's how you want to play it."
Her wings spread wider—lightning roaring louder now—no longer faint.
Her turquoise eyes locked onto him. Cold. Sharp.
"…Then don't die too quickly."
Below—the ape lifted his head.
Crimson eyes meeting turquoise.
No illusions this time. No tricks.
Just killing intent.
Colliding.
As the next exchange loomed.