The dust left behind from the battle had not yet fully settled. Gusts of wind carried grains of sand and a faint scent of blood.
Yue, the Huli Jing, kept her gaze fixed upon the arena.
Her fox ears twitched lightly. Behind her, her honey-yellow tails swayed slowly— or rather, what remained of them; there were only eight now.
One was gone. A part of her own soul had been buried along with the noise that had long since faded away.
She bowed her head slowly, resting her chin upon the marble balcony railing that rose no higher than her chest.
"Is losing someone you love truly this painful?"
The question turned over and over in her heart, echoing without an answer.
To the Huli Jing kind, death belonged to the keeper of time. It came gently, brought by age, and met with peace— not with blood still warm upon the earth.
Her eight remaining tails flowed softly, swaying with the wind that brushed through their fine fur.
Yet the stillness lasted only a moment, until the sound of steady, measured footsteps drifted up from behind. They were not hurried, yet carried a quiet awareness— like someone approaching a secret that was never meant to be touched.
"So all this while… you have been here, Lady Yue?"
The voice was soft, yet something lingered at its edge that made the air feel heavy around them.
Yue flinched. Her eight tails stiffened at once, fanning out like a spread of honey-gold light.
"Mo Yun…" she breathed quietly.
"What has become of your sweet smile, Lady Yue? Surely your victory deserves to be celebrated with joy?"
Yue let her guard ease just a little, her gaze returning to the arena that was now growing quiet.
"Ah… no. I am simply uncertain," she replied softly, as if wishing to be left undisturbed by the dark-furred fox with white-tipped tails— who looked like the moon still striving to shine behind heavy clouds.
"Uncertain?" Mo Yun raised an eyebrow. "What weighs on your mind? That humanity's victories are beginning to overtake those of mythical beings?"
He lifted his brow a little higher. "Do not worry, Lady Yue. With our magic and illusions, I am certain victory will remain on our side."
"That is not what troubles me," Yue whispered.
Her eyes fell to the eight tails still swaying gently behind her. She hesitated— whether to speak the truth that one had vanished, or keep it locked away as her own secret.
Mo Yun watched her intently, a flicker of suspicion glinting in his gaze.
"What has happened, Lady Yue? Still shaken from your match? Your performance was truly remarkable. Even Elder Bai Zhen looked upon you with pride. You know that, do you not?"
His tone sounded like comfort, yet beneath it lay something else— as if he were carefully weighing every reaction she gave.
"I know," Yue murmured. "But…"
"Rest easy, Lady Yue," Mo Yun said gently as he stepped closer, coming to stand beside her. "What you did was necessary. To stop humans from recklessly tearing through the veil between dimensions and sowing chaos across our world."
His words sounded like solace, yet at their core lay a quiet coldness— the bitter truth of a war no one had ever wanted.
Yue turned her gaze away, resting her chin once more upon the marble railing. As if holding back something heavy within her chest that she could not put into words.
Mo Yun offered only a faint smile. Slowly he lifted his hand, reaching out to touch her shoulder.
But before his fingers could brush the fabric of her white-and-red kimono, the air shifted all at once. The temperature plummeted sharply.
Dark mist began to creep out from behind Mo Yun's back. It thickened, swirling until it enclosed them both. A reflex born of self-preservation against an unseen threat made the black mist pour forth uncontrollably, beyond his full command.
The smoke twisted softly, then swallowed his own form until it grew faint. In a movement almost too quick to see, he drew Yue into his shadow as well— pulling her into an illusion, leaving the balcony they stood upon empty to any outside eye.
Mo Yun's eyes glimmered faintly through the haze. He scanned their surroundings, trying to trace where danger might come from.
Silence pressed down around them— until a long shadow rose and crept up the stairs below. It stretched ever longer, marking footsteps drawing near slowly but surely.
Then the figure appeared.
A man clad entirely in white— from the tips of his boots to his neatly tied hair. No other color marked his appearance; he looked as though he had been born of snow itself. He walked calmly, his gaze tilted slightly downward, unaware that two pairs of fox eyes watched him from behind the thinning mist.
"That is he? The human who defeated the elven prince?" Yue's voice echoed softly inside Mo Yun's mind, like a whisper carried on the wind.
"It is indeed, Lady Yue," Mo Yun answered silently, a faint smile suddenly tugging at his lips. "A most formidable human."
They watched his steps draw closer still. When he passed directly before them, Mo Yun's smile curved into something lopsided— like a fox that had just found a new game to play.
The dark mist around him thickened further, and in an instant, an illusion took shape. Hayama kept walking forward down the corridor, yet to Yue and Mo Yun's eyes, the man had never moved from the spot at all. The sound of his own footsteps echoed only within his head.
He passed a pillar. Then a crack running along the wall to his left. Another pillar. And ahead—
"The same crack in the wall?"
Hayama halted in his tracks, realizing he had walked past that exact mark three times now. He lifted his gaze, stopping short— and Mo Yun raised one eyebrow unconsciously in response.
Then—
"Carrying killing intent that sharp…" Hayama said flatly, glancing back only halfway. "I have grown quite accustomed to feeling it."
Mo Yun's lips curled slowly into a grin. The dark mist wrapping him began to thin, gradually revealing his elegant form clad in a long cloak the color of midnight. He leaned casually against the balcony edge, while the shinobi's sharp gaze remained fixed upon him, utterly unreadable.
No words were spoken. No unnecessary movement. Only a piercing look— until the man in white turned and walked away.
Yue, sensing the air had grown calm once more, finally spoke up.
"Why did you do that?" she asked, her tone rising slightly, her tails trembling softly behind her.
Mo Yun turned back to her calmly, his smile still fixed in place. "No special reason." He faced her fully. "I simply did not want anyone to know you are here. You have become quite well-known throughout the stands after your first victory, after all."
His voice was light, almost teasing— but Yue did not take it lightly. She met his gaze with a sharp look of her own.
"Is that truly so? Do they even know our names, or only what we are?" she retorted coolly, her words now as sharp as a blade sliding out without warning.
Mo Yun chuckled softly, his smile turning just as cynical. "Ah, Lady Yue— always as sharp as ever." He leaned a little closer. "But I am certain your name has already begun to be remembered by many among the mythical races."
Yue's brow furrowed. "Not only your own kind," he continued, "but others too. Even those who have lived within the oldest of stories."
Yue looked away toward the arena far below, her gaze empty— as if his words were nothing more than wind rustling past her ears. She knew well this male fox never spoke the whole truth.
Several minutes passed in silence between the two fox spirits. Yue's eyes returned once more to the arena below, where cracks in the stone were slowly knitting themselves back together under the Ancient One's magic. Yet that faint, unwavering smile on Mo Yun's face began to gnaw at her peace.
"Could you please leave me?" Yue said plainly, but firmly.
Mo Yun paused for a moment, though quickly masking his surprise behind that same faint smile. "What is this? Are you sending me away? Or do you wish to brood over your victory alone?" His voice remained smooth, yet carried a slippery, underlying edge.
"Come now, Lady Yue! Your kin— even Elder Bai Zhen— await you in the special stands of the Huli Jing. Let us celebrate this victory together."
He extended his pale hand, white as snow in late autumn— but Yue did not stir. She simply turned her face away.
Mo Yun's smile began to fade. He drew a breath to hold back the irritation rising within him. "Why do you keep moping like this? What is it you are hiding?" he asked slowly, his tone growing sharp.
Yue let out a long, heavy sigh. "Fine. Fine. I will tell you." She turned to face him, her eyes dim yet resolute. "Perhaps you can help me understand a little."
Mo Yun hummed quietly, watching her closely. Yue took a breath, then spoke in a near-whisper. "It is like this… I feel that victory— my victory over that human— was unnatural." She looked away, unable to meet his gaze directly. She knew Mo Yun was skilled at sensing even the smallest lie.
"Very well. Go on," Mo Yun said evenly.
"When I tore his soul apart. When I drove him to madness… it felt as though the act itself was not coming from my own body."
Mo Yun's eyes widened just slightly— not with shock, but as if weighing something carefully. "Why complain of such things? Was it not the right thing to do?" he asked softly, his smile too gentle to be fully trusted.
Yue shook her head. "You are wrong, Mo Yun. I still remember every movement I made. I still remember my hand reaching for that shard of glass. But… for some reason… it felt as though…"
Tears trickled slowly down from the corners of her eyes. Mo Yun stayed silent, simply observing her. Then he lowered his voice, speaking as if to soothe her. "It is likely nothing more than our kind's natural instinct, Lady Yue. An instinct we have long suppressed for the sake of peace among our kin and family."
Yue shook her head again. "No, Mo Yun. That is not how it feels. Because just now—" Her words cut off abruptly. Her eyes flew wide, as though she had almost let slip something no one was ever meant to know.