Chapter 369: Clash

The target’s aura was in no way inferior to hers—in certain aspects, it might even have the edge.

But… that only made her itch for the fight.

Aura intensity was never absolute. Even foes who outmatched her on paper—she had cleared out plenty of them by now. What was there to fear?

On the contrary, stronger was better. Stronger meant greater rewards.

Poppy exhaled another plume of smoke. The blue-gray vapor coalesced behind her into a colossal fox.

The smoke fox was pale and immense, its form strikingly lifelike. It loosed a silent shriek, scooped her up in its voluminous tail, and sprang.

It shot up through the open shaft of the stairwell, racing toward the upper floors.

As she ascended, Poppy noticed something peculiar about her surroundings.

It was broad daylight outside, yet the building’s interior was as dark as if she were still deep underground. A sweep of her gaze revealed the cause: every window—normally left open—was now densely covered in black fur.

The bristles had sprouted from the window frames themselves, weaving together layer by layer into an impenetrable barrier. Outside light could not pierce through, rendering the interior space especially grim.

Poppy’s brow furrowed.

She recalled the nauseating photographs from the files. The corpses whose internal organs had been completely dissolved after being impaled from within by that same black fur.

Now it was clear—this fur was not merely a weapon. It was the Anomaly’s tool for reshaping its environment.

It was transforming this building into its nest.

......…………

Before long, the smoke fox deposited Poppy on a floor that had once housed a broad open-plan office.

The moment her feet touched the ground, a dense wave of deathly presence crashed into her. The very air seemed to congeal.

There, she saw it.

A humanoid figure, cloaked in tattered black robes, standing in perfect stillness.

Beneath the robes, its body was pieced together from countless remains.

Human bones, animal bones, bones from sources beyond recognition—all twisted and fused into a grotesque frame.

Its ribs flared outward like unfurled wings; its spine bent at unnatural angles, studded with protruding vertebrae; shattered skulls were embedded at the joints of its limbs, their empty sockets staring as if watching the newcomer.

In one hand, it gripped a bone scepter crowned with a dull gray gemstone. Upon its head sat a warped metal circlet—a crown, or something like it.

The ring was caked in rust, its surface etched with eroded runes that now and then flickered with faint gray light in the gloom.

Though humanoid in shape, its face was an abyss of nothingness—utterly void of features.

It stood there in the center of the hall, still as a statue.

Poppy sat perched atop the smoke fox’s massive, plush tail, gazing down at the thing from above. A sardonic smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

“You certainly look the part…”

“Since you’ve gone to the trouble of shaping yourself like this… I’ll call you the Remnant Sovereign.”

The Anomaly, naturally, did not respond to her mockery.

It simply raised its scepter.

Several beams of pitch-black light shot from the gemstone’s tip, aimed directly at her. The lances moved in absolute silence, yet they carried a palpable malice—the very air they passed through corroded, leaving blackened trails in their wake.

The smoke fox, however, was faster.

It loosed a piercing cry and swiped with a massive forepaw, talons plunging into the incoming black light.

The moment vapor met darkness, a sizzling dissolution erupted. A layer of blue smoke was eaten away—but the black light was likewise worn thin.

More attacks followed in rapid succession. Each time, the smoke fox was partially dispersed; each time, it swiftly reformed, neutralizing the lethal spells one by one.

The azure mist scattered and coalesced, scattered and coalesced, never failing to shield its master.

Cradled in that fox’s tail, Poppy occasionally dodged with an air of almost leisurely ease.

Yet her gaze never once left the Remnant Sovereign. Not for an instant.

Across the hall, the Remnant Sovereign seemed to grow enraged.

The gray gem atop its scepter flared to life—but this time, what poured forth was not the probing black light of before.

Now, the gem bled darkness thick and viscous as crude oil. The shadow coalesced in midair into dozens of pitch-black skeletal hands.

Each one distinct: some slender as a woman’s fingers, some stubby as a child’s fist, some hooked like a bird of prey’s talons.

They lunged at the smoke fox from every direction, sealing off all escape.

Poppy remained unruffled. She gave her hookah a light tap.

Ting.

The crisp note echoed through the empty hall.

The smoke fox burst apart on command, dissolving into a sky-spanning azure haze. The skeletal hands seized nothing, fingers closing on insubstantial mist.

And in the next breath, that haze recondensed behind the Remnant Sovereign—into a fox’s snarling form. Its maw yawned wide, fangs bared, lunging for the spine beneath those black robes.

Thud!

The Remnant Sovereign’s reaction was lightning-quick. It had already pivoted as the fox struck, driving its scepter back to meet the attack. Where shaft met fang, a black ripple exploded outward, holding the jaws at bay.

The shockwave blasted through the hall, sending stacked office desks and chairs hurtling. Splintered wood and twisted metal rained against the walls. Dust billowed, debris scattered.

Yet blocking that strike had cost the Remnant Sovereign dearly.

From beneath the robes came the sickening grind of bone on bone—its twisted spine seemed to have been knocked slightly askew.

The dozens of skeletal hands, which had already shifted their trajectory to seize Poppy, shattered into nothing the instant the fox’s fangs struck home.

Clearly, maintaining those hands and defending with the scepter were two demands on the same finite resource.

But now Poppy’s brows lifted. Battle instinct prickled, a warning flaring in her mind.

Before the thought could fully form, the Remnant Sovereign’s free left hand had already risen—a hand cobbled together from avian phalanges and human finger bones. It clenched at the empty air behind it.

The concrete floor beneath Poppy’s feet suddenly bulged. Three bone-white spikes erupted through the fractured cement, spearing upward with brutal force.

Tsk.

The smoke fox, its attack already spent, dissolved in an instant. It surged back toward its master as a pliable shockwave of vapor, reforming into a half-silhouette around her. The azure mist-tail swept Poppy sixteen feet sideways.

Rumble…

The bone spikes grazed the hem of her coat before impaling the ceiling. Chips of stone rained down, deep cracks spidering through the reinforced concrete. Pale gray powder sifted from the fissures.

“Not bad. Again.”

Poppy landed on the rubble, idly brushing dust from her clothes, her expression haughty.

Before her, the smoke fox coalesced once more. Its form was flawless, the ferocious light in its eyes undimmed—not a trace of retreat after the earlier setback.

The Remnant Sovereign turned back to face her fully. That featureless void “regarded” her as its scepter tapped lightly against the floor.