Time passed.
Not in moments.
Not in hours.
But in the slow, indistinct way that only cultivation could measure.
The **Qi-Gathering Array** dimmed as the last spirit stone cracked fully, its light guttering before fading to dull gray. The pull of qi weakened… then ceased.
The fox's ears twitched.
Its eyes opened.
Without hurry. Without irritation.
It reached into its pouch and drew out more **low-grade spirit stones**. One by one, they slid into the formation's sockets, fitting perfectly. With a controlled pulse of qi, the fox reactivated the array.
The runes flared.
Qi flowed again.
The fox closed its eyes.
And returned to cultivation.
---
The cycle repeated.
Again.
And again.
Stones cracked.
Stones were replaced.
Qi gathered.
Qi was refined.
Pill bottles appeared, were opened, and were set aside empty.
Lacquered boxes were unsealed, their contents consumed, then placed neatly aside.
The fox never rushed.
Never wasted motion.
Each action was efficient. Minimal. Precise.
As if this were not effort at all—but routine.
---
A full day passed.
The room remained silent.
No voices.
No movement.
No interruption.
The fox lay at the center of the array, still as carved stone, tails resting around its body, posture perfect. The formation glowed steadily beneath it, runes cycling in slow, disciplined patterns.
Around it, evidence of expenditure had accumulated.
**Empty jade boxes.**
**Discarded pill bottles.**
**Dull, lifeless spirit stones.**
They formed a loose ring around the array like offerings at a shrine.
The scent of refined herbs lingered faintly in the air.
The fox did not stir.
Its breathing was slow.
Even.
Deep.
Qi flowed into it and vanished, absorbed completely, refined without turbulence, compressed without waste. Its foundation tightened. Its reserves deepened. Its presence grew heavier—subtly, imperceptibly, but undeniably.
The room itself seemed to acknowledge it.
---
Across the chamber, the lizard remained on the bed.
Still curled.
Still unmoving.
Still breathing.
No cocoon.
No protective shell.
Just quiet.
The fox did not look.
Did not check.
Did not break focus.
Whatever had happened… could wait.
For now, cultivation continued.
The array hummed.
The stones dulled.
The power gathered.
And in the sealed, rune-layered stillness of Moonveil Pavilion, a full day slipped by—unnoticed, unmarked, and heavy with quiet transformation.
---
The first thing the lizard felt was **stillness**.
Not the heavy, crushing stillness of pain.
Not the rigid stillness of forced endurance.
But the calm, balanced stillness of a body that had… **finished changing**.
Its breathing was slow.
Deep.
Even.
The fire that had once torn through its veins was gone, leaving only a faint residual warmth beneath its scales—like embers long after a blaze.
The lizard did not move at first.
Then—
Its eyes **opened**.
The world did not sharpen.
Light and shadow remained blurred, smeared into vague shapes and gradients. No edges. No detail. Just presence.
The lizard blinked once.
Then again.
Nothing changed.
A faint, unreadable expression crossed its face.
*…So not yet.*
Inside, a calm voice answered.
---
**{System}**
> **Evolution complete.**
---
The lizard accepted it without reaction.
Slowly, deliberately, it **uncoiled**.
Its body extended, wings stretching outward with a soft, controlled flex. Muscles rolled beneath its scales as it pushed itself upright, claws digging lightly into the bedding for leverage.
The mattress dipped.
The lizard rose.
It stretched fully—spine lengthening, wings flaring slightly, tail extending back in a smooth line. Its small maw opened wide in a silent, instinctive yawn, revealing sharp, newly reinforced teeth before closing again.
A long breath escaped it.
Then another.
The lizard stood there on the bed, posture balanced, body steady.
No pain.
No tremor.
No weakness.
Just… solidity.
It remained still for a moment, staring into the blur of the room. The fox was somewhere. The array was somewhere. The walls, the floor, the air—all present, all indistinct.
Its claws flexed once.
Then relaxed.
*…Still can't see.*
The thought was calm. Observational. Not frustrated.
It tilted its head slightly, then addressed the system.
*What is the remaining recovery time now?*
---
**{System}**
> **Updated Recovery Estimate:**
> **160 days remaining** for full vision restoration.
---
The number settled in.
The lizard did not react.
The lizard did not move.
Not at first.
It stood on the bed, wings half-spread, claws lightly gripping the fabric, eyes open to a world that was still nothing more than blurred light and shadow.
*…Forty thousand points.*
The thought surfaced calmly.
*Thirty days.*
No emotion followed.
No frustration.
No regret.
Just assessment.
*So even that wasn't enough,* it concluded. *That was a lot of points… but it still didn't heal my eyes. It only reduced the time slightly. I will need more than points.*
Its chest rose and fell once.
Slow.
Even.
Or maybe—
*Consumption,* it thought. *Materials. Corpses. Yin. Essence.*
The answer was already there.
It didn't dwell on it.
---
The lizard lowered its body slightly, wings unfolding fully now with a smooth, controlled motion. The membranes caught the faint currents of qi in the room, fluttering once before settling.
Then it leapt.
The bed dipped, then rebounded as its weight left it. The lizard glided forward, silent and precise, crossing the room in a shallow arc.
No rush.
No aggression.
Just movement.
It landed lightly near the fox, claws touching down without sound on the stone beside the Qi-Gathering Array. Its tail curled in close, wings folding neatly against its sides.
The air here was thick.
Dense with refined qi.
The formation's hum vibrated faintly through its bones.
The fox lay at the center of it, eyes closed, posture perfect, spirit stones embedded around it, runes glowing steadily. Empty jade boxes and pill bottles were scattered neatly nearby.
The lizard stood there.
Still.
Watching.
Its blurred vision made the fox little more than a pale shape wrapped in light, tails indistinct, outline softened by flowing energy.
But it could **feel** it.
The **density**.
The **weight**.
The fox was cultivating deeply.
The lizard did not interrupt.
Did not speak.
Did not intrude into the array.
It simply remained where it was, head slightly lowered, breathing quiet, presence controlled.
The lizard stood beside the cultivating fox, silent as stone, wings folded, eyes open to a world it still could not see—
Already thinking not about what it had lost…