Chapter 636: Feeling

The azure Flames surged out of every pore of its body, then changed color, as something deeper rose from the deepest part of its body, pressing the pulsing azure Flames inch by inch down, turning them into a dark, somber black‑gold hue.

Its eyes also changed, from a blank azure to a scarlet crimson; when those two eyes lit up on its massive fox face, the surrounding air trembled.

Its torso swelled, the newly grown muscles stretched the fur taut, each bone extending outward, making it larger, more massive, more like a moving mountain than before.

It lifted its head, opened its mouth to the fullest, and let out a long howl from deep within its throat.

A Xing felt her ears filled by that sound, filled to the point of hearing nothing, only seeing the distant building's windows shatter simultaneously, shards of glass falling from dozens of stories high like a transparent rain.

She squinted, watching the Giant Fox stretch its body amid the howl, front limbs reaching forward, hind limbs kicking back, spine arching then pressing down, every bone rattling, every muscle bulging, shaping it into a form more complete than before.

Its Tail lifted from behind and flicked in the air; that single swipe toppled a ruined building behind it, shards and dust falling like rain.

Perspective shift.

San Yue Qi crouched beneath the broken window, her legs already numb, but she dared not move.

Outside, those weapons still whirled in the sky, black‑red ripples resembling a half‑open, half‑closed eye that hadn't fully woken; occasionally one or two weapons poked their heads out of the ripples then withdrew, as if probing, as if teasing them.

She stuck her head out to glance, then pulled it back, her complexion paler than before.

"Did you feel anything?"

Her voice was pressed down low, low enough to sound as if she were speaking to herself.

Bai Hang crouched beside her, that pair of Fox Ears pressed atop her head, motionless, but the tips trembled slightly, like two antennae swayed by the wind.

She didn't answer San Yue Qi, merely turned her face toward the window, toward the distant sky illuminated by black‑gold light; her azure eyes reflected that glow, reflecting the Giant Fox still stretching its body.

"Over there."

Her voice was soft, "Something's happened."

Lin crouched in the corner, that Tail looped from behind her skirt to the front, clenched by herself, the hair at the Tail tip flared outward.

She didn't see the Giant Fox; the window angle was off, so she could only see San Yue Qi and Bai Hang's expressions, watching those expressions shift from confusion to shock, then from shock to a solemnity she didn't quite grasp.

"What's wrong, Jiao?"

Her voice carried a tremor, unsure whether from cold or fear, "What's happening over there, Jiao?"

San Yue Qi gave no answer.

She stared at the sky, at the Giant Fox still expanding, her lips moving as if to speak, but her throat felt blocked, not a single word could emerge.

That fox grew stronger, far stronger than before.

Jing Yuan, suspended in midair, tightened his grip on the Golden Spear.

He didn't look at the black‑armored figure before him; his gaze passed over the figure's shoulder, landing on the sky behind it, which was changing color.

The Lock still bound the Divine Lord, only a dim light slowly flowing over the massive spirit's body, like a candle about to Burned Out, making its final struggle.

Gilgamesh did not look back.

He still stood there, arms crossed, watching Jing Yuan, the corner of his mouth moving, bearing a condescending, scrutinizing curve.

Jing Yuan withdrew his gaze, looking at the black‑armored man before him, at his unfocused eyes.

"You knew this would happen."

It was not a question, but a statement.

Gilgamesh said nothing.

He simply stood there, that curve at the corner of his mouth still present.

Perspective shift.

Ilya, when she struggled out of Saber's embrace, still had both arms draped over Saber's shoulders, unable to retract them, her whole body frozen there, the base of her ears beginning to heat up.

She seemed to have just crawled over, her whole body hanging on Saber, her face buried in the other's shoulder hollow; now recalling those scenes frame by frame popping out of her mind, each frame making her want to bury her face again.

She quickly let go, stepped back, both hands clutching rubies held before her, eyes fixed on her own toes, the tips of her ears reddened as if someone had pulled them.

"Um... thank you," Ilya's voice was tiny, so small that Saber had to lower her head to hear it clearly.

Saber said nothing, merely withdrew her hand from Ilya's back, stepping back half a step, giving her ample space.

Those eyes lingered on Ilya for a moment, without probing, simply standing there quietly, waiting for Ilya to recover on her own.

Ilya inhaled deeply, circulating the breath within her chest before exhaling, then lifted her head, looking toward Weiba Daye.

The Mecha still stood at its original spot, its two legs rooted as if planted, unmoving, only the azure patterns on its chest slowly circulating, as if something inside were breathing.

That round, chubby little head, ablaze with teal Flame, protruded from the Mecha's neck; its proportions were off as if someone had stuck a candle atop a statue's head. The Flame burned more steadily than before, the expression on its face steadied as well, its three white eyes half‑narrowed, mouth corners turned down, the whole face spelling out four big words: "Don't want to talk."

"Weiba Daye,"

Ilya's voice still carried a hint of hoarseness, but the strength had returned considerably, "How do you feel? What exactly is going on? How did you—how did you end up inside that thing?"

The Mecha's body shifted slightly.

It first lowered its head, glanced at its chest, then raised a hand, glanced at its palm, then flipped that hand over to look at the back of it, finally clenching its palm into a fist and releasing, clenching and releasing again, repeating several times, as if testing whether this body obeys.

"Feeling?"

Weiba Daye's voice came from the Mecha's chest cavity, "What feeling could there be? The thing being controlled inside this broken shell is of the same origin as me; of course I can control it. It's like—like putting on clothes; if the clothes are yours, you can wear them, if they're not yours, you can't. This fire is my fire, this shell is now my shell, understand?"

After saying that, it lowered its head again to glance at its majestic Mecha body, then raised a hand, patting the tiny, fist‑sized head atop its head.

"It's this head—"

"What's going on? How did it—how did it shrink to this tiny size? Where's my original body? How is there only a head left?"

Ilya opened her mouth, about to say "You originally only had a head too," but seeing Weiba Daye's face full of resentment, she swallowed the words back.