The fox took another step, then another, the ruined battlefield slowly fading behind them.
"…But where did *that* come from?"
Her ears flicked slightly beneath him.
"I didn't think you were the type to give advice."
A small hum followed.
"…Hmm."
Her smile crept back—slow, playful.
"…Don't tell me…"
She tilted her head slightly.
"…you were worried about me?"
The lizard didn't move.
Didn't shift.
Didn't react.
He simply rested between her ears, golden eyes calm and unchanging.
The fox's smile widened.
"I see…"
A soft breath of amusement escaped her.
"I guess that must be it."
She continued forward, her steps light and unbothered.
"I'm glad."
Her voice carried a teasing warmth now.
"Didn't think you had it in you… worrying about me and all."
Silence answered her.
The wind brushed past them—soft, cool.
Still, no response.
The lizard's gaze remained steady. Distant. Quiet. Unmoved.
The fox let out a quiet chuckle.
"You're not even going to deny it?"
Nothing.
Not a word.
Not a flicker.
Just those calm, golden eyes, watching ahead.
She exhaled lightly through her nose, still smiling.
"Fine. Keep your secrets."
Her tone remained light, but her eyes gleamed faintly.
Because whether he said it or not—
she had already decided what his silence meant.
And she didn't mind that answer at all.
She slowed.
Then stopped.
"Ah… I almost forgot."
She turned, glancing back at the battlefield.
The remains of the beasts lay scattered—torn apart, discarded, left where they fell.
Her eyes lingered on them briefly.
"That would've been a waste."
Without another word, she moved.
Closing the distance in a few light steps, her paws barely making a sound against the fractured ground.
The lizard remained where he was, resting between her ears, silent as ever.
The fox reached the first corpse.
Her pouch flickered open, and with a thought—
the Ghost Banner appeared.
The dark staff hummed faintly, its presence heavy, unnatural.
"Let's not make the mistake of leaving anything behind."
She drove it down.
Not violently.
Just enough.
The moment it pierced flesh—
the air changed.
A low, hollow pull spread outward, as though something unseen had opened.
Then—
it began.
From within the corpse, a faint, distorted shape was dragged free—struggling, warping—
a soul.
It didn't last long.
The Ghost Banner absorbed it quietly, efficiently.
Gone.
The fox didn't pause.
She moved to the next.
And the next.
Each time, the same process.
Pierce.
Pull.
Absorb.
No hesitation.
No waste.
The battlefield grew quieter with each one—emptier—as if something essential was being stripped away.
When the last soul was taken, she exhaled softly.
"That's better."
The Ghost Banner dimmed, its work complete, then vanished back into her storage pouch—its presence fading, but not entirely gone.
The fox stood there for a moment, feeling it.
"…Hmm."
A quiet hum left her lips as her gaze lowered slightly.
"So that's how it works. I noticed it earlier with the monkey."
The lizard remained still atop her head, listening.
"Piercing the target first…"
She lifted a paw slightly, as if recalling the motion.
"…makes it much easier to absorb the soul."
A faint smile touched her lips.
"Almost like it anchors them in place."
Her eyes gleamed—thoughtful now, calculating.
"Good to know."
A small pause followed before her expression shifted again.
Lighter. Curious.
"Alright then…"
She turned, facing the deeper stretch of the battlefield, where the destruction grew denser—more chaotic.
The fractured ridges ahead looked torn apart from within, as if something beneath had forced its way upward, dragging everything into conflict.
"Let's see what all that was about."
Her voice carried quiet anticipation. Interest.
The wind moved faintly across the broken terrain, guiding her gaze forward.
Whatever the beasts had fought over—
it wasn't random.
It had been worth dying for.
And now—
it was hers to find.
Without hesitation, she stepped forward—
toward the shattered ridges—
and whatever waited beneath them.
The ridges loomed ahead—jagged, split.
Not carved by time—
but torn open.
The deeper she walked, the quieter it became.
No wind.
No distant movement.
Just the faint crunch of broken stone beneath her paws.
"They really went all out for this."
Her voice was low now, measured.
The lizard's golden eyes scanned ahead, still silent, but sharper.
Watching.
Waiting.
The fox slowed.
"There."
At the center of the fractured ridges—
a hollow.
Not wide—
but deep.
The ground had collapsed inward, revealing something beneath.
Something that didn't belong.
A faint glow pulsed from within.
Not bright—
but steady.
Like a heartbeat buried under stone.
The fox approached carefully.
This time, she wasn't careless.
Not playful.
Each step was deliberate.
"So this is what you were all killing each other for."
She stopped at the edge, looking down into the hollow.
The glow reflected faintly in her turquoise eyes.
"Let's see…"
She crouched slightly, leaning in—
and then—
her pupils shrank.
"Oh."
Not surprise.
Recognition.
"That's…"
Her voice lowered—
just a fraction.
The words didn't come immediately.
Not because she didn't know—
but because she *did.*
A slow smile spread across her lips—wider, sharper.
"That's really… really interesting."
Her eyes gleamed, locked onto what lay below.
"To think I just stumbled onto something like this…"
A soft breath escaped her—almost a laugh, but quieter.
"I must be using up all the luck of my entire life at once."
Below, within the hollow—
a tree stood.
Small.
No taller than her.
But wrong.
Its bark was a deep, pulsing crimson—as if it wasn't wood, but flesh hardened into form.
Its roots spread outward, snaking through the broken ground—thin and branching, like veins crawling through stone.
And at its crown—
hung fruit's.
Blood-red.
Swollen.
Each one faintly pulsing, as though something inside still lived.
The air around it felt thick. Heavy. Fed.
The fox's eyes narrowed slightly, recognition settling fully.
"A Crimson Veinblood Tree…."
The name left her lips in a quiet murmur—respectful, almost reverent.
"So that's what this place was hiding."
Her gaze drifted along the roots, tracing how far they spread, how deep they sank into the fractured ridges.
"It must've grown here…"
Her voice turned thoughtful, analytical.
"…feeding on the remains."
She glanced at the surrounding devastation—bones buried deep, flesh long decayed.
"…years of dead demon beasts…"
Her eyes returned to the tree.
"…flesh… blood… bone…"
A faint hum followed.
"…all of it absorbed."