“Is it a different variant?” Youjin Chun said, observing the creature with a critical gaze. “The colours are strange, and normal Dim Gold Foxmoths are utterly different. Is it even alive?”

“Kyu. Kyu kyu!” Silky squeaked, his urgency palpable as he climbed atop Nanya’s crown, buzzing around in an attempt to propel Yung forward.

“Hold on, something’s not right. Silky, just give us a moment,” Yung urged, his voice steady yet filled with concern.

“Kyuueue ki kyu,” Silky whined, displaying his disappointment. Yet, he heeded Yung’s command like an obedient good boy.

“Kyekikekek,” the pale white foxmoth gurgled, shifting slightly as if attempting to find a more comfortable position.

Its size was peculiar, comparable to that of a husky. But considering Silky’s unique nature as a yaoguai and not a true foxmoth, his smaller, teacup poodle size was the actual anomaly.

The typical Dim Gold Foxmoth exhibited a brown fuzz, interspersed with mossy-green patches. In stark contrast, this specimen was a pale white, its appearance almost sickly, as if devoid of blood or warmth.

Two antennae adorned its head, one of which was grotesquely twisted, resembling a bolt of electricity, as if it had been cruelly crunched by a forceful grip.

Its six paws, each seemingly belonging to different bodies, varied in size and shade, adding to its bizarre appearance.

Yet, the most unsettling feature was its compound eyes. The left eye appeared normal, but the right was shattered, akin to a broken window, with fragments missing and the remaining parts seemingly glued back in place.

From behind this damaged right eye emanated a faint glow, a mesmerising dance of gold and purple hues, with silhouettes of foxes prancing upon glass.

“Will you not return what belongs to us, oh strange creature?” Su Nanya addressed the pale white foxmoth, her tone firm. “That Occultic Foxball is rightfully ours.”

“Kyekekekek,” the foxmoth warbled, its body shaking slightly. However, it remained in place, as if unable to move.

“Hey, look at the pillar’s base,” Ziyou Ling said. Yung did.

Heads. Foxmoth heads.

Yung’s initial assumption that the foxmoth perched upon a pile of loosely stacked rocks crumbled as the grim reality unveiled itself.

“Kiiiiiiiiii!” Silky’s cry resonated through the cavern, filled with heart-wrenching despair. The wave of emotions transmitted through their soul contract was so intense, Yung felt compelled to act.

But he held it in.

“Silky, calm down. We can’t change what has happened, but we’ve come too far to turn back now. Trust us. We’ll get your flock back,” Yung said, his voice steady yet filled with determination.

“Kiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!” Silky’s cries continued, yet the flood of emotions from the soul contract began to subside.

“Kyekekkekekek!” The pale white foxmoth contorted once again, its movements erratic.

“Gross,” Youjin Linbi said, her affections for foxmoths nowhere in sight.

“It’s mocking us, isn’t it?” Yung’s expression darkened, his patience wearing thin.

“If this isn’t a trap, then my name isn’t—” A madlander cultivator began, only to be interrupted as Ziyou Maque struck him with the shaft of his spear.

“Enough! How many times do I gotta warn you, don’t be tempin’ fate!” The gang leader’s anger was palpable.

He turned to Yung and Nanya next. “I think we should hit it first. If that foxmoth had any tricks up its sleeve to hurt us, it would've played its hand already. Looks to me like it's stuck, can't move an inch. So, let's play it smart—take it out from afar, no need to get our hands dirty.”

“Agreed,” Youjin Gangkai grunted, his voice resonating with authority. “We shall initiate the Dim Gold Severance 9th form, just to be safe.” The nine Youjin cultivators present, including Elder Gangkai, the Formation Elder, the Crafting Elder, and the sharp-tongued middle-aged man who frequently clashed with Youjin Linbi, were all in the Imperfect Heaven 2nd realm. Together, they possessed the strength to execute the battle formation.

“Kyu!” Silky said mournfully.

“Alright, buddy. Let’s try this then,” Yung said, raising his hand to reveal the Pink Heart Ring, his tone reassuring.

The sight of the artefact caused an immediate uproar, albeit in hushed tones.

“T-That’s the infamous devil ring!”

“Hey, it’s a heart qi artefact. Don’t tarnish its name. Though I must admit, its powers are quite formidable,” one of the cultivators said, impressed.

“I’ve heard the artefact requires a few moments to charge, and what if the foxmoth simply dodges?”

“Haven’t you been listening? It’s stuck. The Blasphemous Art from the ring can hit it with no problems.”

“It’s a Numinous Art. Ziyou Yung is a Faith Qi cultivator. And Leader Free Sparrow only speculated it is stuck in place. We don’t know for sure. I still suggest using an arrow or a spear. In fact, Leader Free Sparrow’s infamous Mountain God’s Lance would be perfect for this task.”

“Hold on, everyone.” Yung said, “It won’t see the Numinous Art coming.”

“You’re planning to use that unique stealth art?” Ziyou Maque asked, his interest piqued.

Stolen story; please report.

Yung nodded in confirmation. “I’m only visible to our group right now.” He had activated Targeted Empathic Isolation the moment the peculiar foxmoth had made its appearance. The duration of the art had extended significantly due to his recent advancements in cultivation, thanks to the intensive ‘training’ sessions with Nanya. He regretted not using the art sooner, as the entity behind the malicious Empathic Links was now aware of his presence. “Even so, I think the Youjin cultivators should still prepare the death dome, just to be safe.”

“Death dome? Ah, you mean the Dim Gold Severance 9th form.”

With the plan in place, the group sprang into action.

The Formation Elder assumed his position at the centre, flanked by the three other Imperfect Heaven 2nd Realm cultivators. The remaining five 1st Realm cultivators took their positions around the periphery of the formation.

Spirit qi surged, followed by the emanation of origin qi. The Formation Elder led the group, his hands moving rapidly through a series of intricate mudras and mantras, creating a blur of symbols and sigils in the air.

A dome of razor-sharp Dim Gold Silk materialised, spiralling violently as it ground the surrounding rock, moss, fungi, and threads into fine particles upon contact. This time, the formation enveloped Yung, Nanya, and the madlanders as well.

“Kyekekekekeke!” The pale white foxmoth continued its peculiar wriggling, its stare as menacing as ever. The glow emanating from the occultic foxball seemed to diminish slightly.

The foxmoth heads surrounding it began to shake.

“Kyekye!”

“Kyu!” Silky attempted to communicate, but the other foxmoth’s utterances were indecipherable.

The group proceeded into the cavern, the death dome clearing a path through the myriad of nets and webs. Its golden glow illuminated the space far more effectively than their torches. Yung wondered whether the light emission was an unnecessary expenditure of the qi powering the battle formation.

He extended his hand, aiming the Pink Heart Ring directly at the pale white foxmoth.

“A bit lower,” Nanya said.

Yung, unaccustomed to aiming over such long distances, adjusted his aim. The pale white foxmoth was nearly a hundred meters away.

“Higher, lad. Yes, right there,” Ziyou Maque provided guidance as well. “Hold it steady. Yo, Youjin fellas, make a gap in your dome. Yeah, like that.”

The death dome, comprised of spiralling threads of Dim Gold Silk, usually allowed those inside to see out, and vice versa. However, the erratic positioning of the rotating threads meant that without creating a stable window, they might interfere with Yung’s Numinous Art, with the beam hitting one of the stray strands of dim gold silk from the formation.

The Youjin cultivators did not respond verbally, but their chants altered slightly, and a small, window-shaped gap appeared in the formation, providing Yung with an unobstructed line of sight to the pale white foxmoth.

“Here goes nothing,” he muttered, activating the Pink Heart Ring. The mystical artefact buzzed with excitement, drawing a substantial amount of Yung’s faith qi and converting it into a pink, chaotic energy.

The beam launched forth, its trajectory a perfect straight line aimed directly at the pale white foxmoth.

“Kyekyek-kughk?” The foxmoth tilted its head, seemingly perplexed.

Just as the beam reached its halfway point, it collided with something invisible.

“What the?” Yung said, taken aback.

The humanoid figure that had been hit collapsed onto the ground, emitting ecstatic moans. Wet, squelching sounds filled the air as the figure writhed, its butt raised in the air.

“Is that… a cultist? Why is it wet?” Ziyou Ling was the first to break the ensuing silence.

The figure continued to writhe, its state oscillating between agony and pleasure. It was shrouded from head to toe in robes, with two arms and two legs visible. Suspicious fluids leaked from its lower body, and the moans it emitted became increasingly shameful to overhear.

“This is making me feel like a voyeur. Can I just kill it?” a madlander cultivator suggested, his tone laced with disgust.

Yung, without responding, fired another beam from the Pink Heart Ring.

The beam collided with another unseen entity, positioned directly in front of the pale white foxmoth. This one was more robust, draped in robes.

It too fell down in a shameful frenzy of movements.

“We see them now. How utterly absurd,” Nanya commented, stifling a yawn. She lifted her vixen head gracefully, releasing a pulse of golden qi from her crown.

It was as if a veil had been lifted from the world.

Robe-clad strangers were revealed, perched atop stalagmites or hanging from stalactites all around the cavern.

Initially shocked, some lost their balance, falling while a wave of panicked mutterings filled the air.

“Kyekekekek!” The pale white foxmoth, displaying shock for the first time, emitted angrier, more agitated sounds. It lifted its head, producing a gurgling noise, and the robed figures regained their composure.

Armed with bows and spears, they took aim at the group, their numbers reaching into the hundreds. The qi emanating from their bodies was overpowering, producing a nauseating stench. No doubt there were multiple beings in the Imperfect Heaven 2nd Realm among them.

Their eyes glowed in shades of purple and green, and for many, blue as well, as they bore witness to the shameful display of self-humiliation by two of their own, right in front of their enemies.

With each passing second, their panic transformed into unmistakable killing intent.

“That was not a good choice of greetings, my uninvited guests. You think my friends will take this humiliation lying down?” The strange, gurgling voice echoed again through the cavern, old and throaty, accompanied by the sounds of chirping crickets and flapping wings.

Foxmoths.

Hundreds of them appeared, slowly emerging from behind the web-covered nettings and the invisible veil, perching atop each robed figure like companion beasts.

They had pale white fur, six paws with deadly claws, and wings that released dandruff-like spores as they flapped. Their compound eyes were a deep purple, with green veins extending from their antennae-like circuits.

“Foxmoth… voidfiends?” Youjin Chun uttered, her voice laced with shock. Her momentary lapse in concentration nearly broke the formation, but the elders managed to maintain it despite their evident surprise.

“Tamed, no less. So, these folks really are void cultists? But there’s something off, right? They’re a bit too tall and fat for normal ren. Argh, I can’t put my finger on it!” Ziyou Ling said, her grip on her spear tightening.

Yung agreed. The silhouettes of these hooded figures were uncannily creepy. He didn’t know why either.

“K-Kyu! Kyu kii kyu!” Silky cried out, clearly horrified. Happen. What? What? The little guy said through the soul contract.

Yung was at a loss. He didn’t know how to proceed. Should he continue firing? The first foxmoth was now surrounded by robed figures, and he couldn’t bend the beam; he lacked the skill.

The two sides were at a standoff. The battle formation provided protection, but advancing to attack was not a swift process. Moreover, the humanoid figures didn’t seem like mindless voidfiends; they wouldn’t blindly rush to their deaths, and the same could be said for the foxmoth voidfiends.

The madlanders could leave the formation to fight, but facing hundreds of enigmatic foes was tantamount to suicide.

And while the battle formation offered defence, it didn’t guarantee safety, not from clever foes more than ten times their number.

“We retreat.” Ziyou Maque said. “I don’t know why they’ve not swarmed us yet, but we’ll face them in the tunnels, not in an open space like the cavern.”

“You shall not leave,” the strange voice declared at the same time.

The heads surrounding the central pillar began to rise, swirling around the pale white foxmoth like a hurricane. Soon, they were joined by thousands of other foxmoth remains: shattered bones, cracked eyes, broken antennae, and torn wings. The myriad of body parts fused with the wriggling foxmoth in a blinding display of sickly grey light.

When the light finally faded, a figure stood atop the pillar, looking down at them with disappointment in his compound eyes.

He was human, aged yet muscular, with a beard made of foxmoth fuzz and long hair tied in a scholarly topknot. His skin resembled foxmoth exoskeleton, and his robes appeared to be crafted from foxmoth wings. His sword, an exact replica of the Dim Gold swords wielded by the Youjin Clan, was undoubtedly made from foxmoth bone.

Despite his grotesque, patchwork appearance, Yung recognized him instantly.

“P-Patriarch?” a member of the Youjin Clan gasped.

It was Youjin Fuqiang, the former and supposedly dead patriarch of the Youjin Clan.