The sound of frantic alarms echoed through the high peaks of the Clear Water Sect. The three defensive layers of the mountain-protecting array flared violently, casting a nervous, pulsating blue glow over the marble steps. Within minutes, the heavy thud of running boots reverberated behind the towering gold-studded doors.
CREEEAAAK.
The colossal gates didn't swing open with their usual grand arrogance. Instead, they parted just a few feet—barely enough for a human to squeeze through.
Grand Patriarch Han stepped out onto the marble threshold, his long white beard fluttering frantically in the mountain wind. Behind him stood Elder Mo, trembling so heavily that the spirit-soothing bandages on his hands were starting to unravel. Both high-level cultivators immediately dropped to their knees, their foreheads pressing flat against the cold stone steps just inches away from Ren's small white paws.
"Sacred Envoy! Divine Sovereign of the Forest!" Patriarch Han choked out, his voice laced with absolute terror. "The Clear Water Sect welcomes your exalted presence! We have locked our gates! We have executed our active hunting edicts! Please, tell us how our insignificant ant-hill has offended your divine grace!"
Ren sat down on her hind legs, her fluffy tail sweeping over the pristine marble. She looked at the two older men groveling before her, her analytical mind highly amused by the scale of their misunderstanding.
"I don't want your heads," Ren thought, letting out a soft, impatient huff. "I just want dinner."
Realizing that she couldn't speak human language with a fox's vocal cords, she trotted toward a large, decorative stone planter filled with loose soil at the edge of the entryway. Extending a single, needle-sharp claw from her front paw, she began to carve large, elegant human characters into the dirt.
Skrrrt. Scratch. Swish.
Patriarch Han and Elder Mo slowly lifted their heads, tracking her movements with wide, unblinking eyes. They scrambled over on their knees, leaning over the edge of the stone planter to read the calligraphy.
[ I HAVE SLAIN AN IRON-TUSK WOLF AND AN OBSIDIAN-SCALE VIPER. I REQUIRE A MASTER BUTCHER TO BREAK DOWN THE CARCASSES. HARVEST THE MEAT FOR MY CONSUMPTION WITHOUT DAMAGING THE PELTS, VENOM GLANDS, OR BONES. IF YOU SUCCEED, YOUR SECT WILL NOT BE DESTROYED. DO NOT FAIL ME. ]
Patriarch Han blinked, reading the text three times to ensure his panicked mind wasn't hallucinating. "A... a butcher?" he whispered, a wave of profound relief washing over his ancient face, nearly causing him to faint on the spot. "The Divine Sovereign... simply requires culinary assistance?"
"Yes! N-Naturally!" Elder Mo scrambled to his feet, shouting back into the cracked courtyard. "Summon Chief Butcher Gao immediately! Bring the highest-grade spiritual cleavers and the sacred jade basins! Move! If you take more than ten breaths, I will personally strip your core!"
A massive silver flash illuminated the marble steps. Ren tapped her Inventory tab, releasing the stasis lock on her stored items.
BOOM.
With a heavy, solid thud, the four-hundred-pound carcass of the Level 4 Iron-Tusk Wolf and the massive, twenty-foot muscular coil of the Level 8 Obsidian-Scale Viper materialized side by side on the steps. The sudden appearance of a Level 8 mini-boss carcass—its glass-like black scales still smoldering from Ren's precise thermal strike—made Patriarch Han gasp.
"To slay a Level 8 Obsidian-Scale Viper alone at her size..." Han murmured, his respect transitioning from pure terror to absolute awe. "Her combat optimization is flawless."
Within moments, a stout man with muscles like boulders—Chief Butcher Gao—rushed out of the gates, holding a set of glowing, Qi-infused carving knives. He fell to his knees before Ren first, offering a deep bow, before approaching the carcasses with expert precision. Gao’s hands moved like a blur. Using his specialized Stage 5 Orifice Opening Qi, he cleanly separated the viper's unblemished black scales from the delicate venom sacks, storing the toxic fluid in pristine jade vials without wasting a single drop. Next, he skinned the massive wolf, rolling up the dense, protective pelt perfectly.
As the master butcher worked, Patriarch Han turned toward Ren, bowing deeply again.
"Sacred Envoy," Han said smoothly, desperate to curry favor with her overprotective celestial patrons. "While our chief butcher prepares the pristine spiritual meat, our sect's kitchens possess rare, hundred-year-old Earth-spiced spiritual herbs and high-density Qi oil. May we have the honor of roasting the meat to its absolute culinary perfection for you?"
Ren’s ears perked up instantly, her stomach letting out another loud, rumbling growl. Cooked, seasoned spirit meat processed by a sect's grand kitchen would yield significantly higher nutrient absorption and cultivation efficiency than eating it raw in a tree.
She turned back to the planter, carving a single, sharp word into the soil:
[ PROCEED. ]