"By the way, that was surprising."
"Surprising?" Irene replied, raising an eyebrow.
"That you recognized . I’ve heard beastfolk generally don’t pay much attention to other races."
"…You're not wrong. Foxes are the worst when it cos to that."
"Oh?"
The man continued the conversation naturally, and Irene frowned slightly before answering in a reluctant tone.
"I knew about you through my teacher."
"And your teacher was…?"
"A swordsman. He raised like a parent from a young age, and he was one of your most ardent supporters."
"Hearing that makes a little embarrassed. Haha!"
"It was insufferable."
Irene vividly recalled it.
A field of golden wheat swayed gently in the breeze, a testant to the land’s richness. Standing in that beloved landscape was her elderly teacher, with white hair blowing softly.
- “I told you, Irene.”
- “The sword must always bear a righteous light.”
- “Just like the Crimson Swordmaster… A person who may falter but never wavers, who may stumble but never lies down.”
- “Find your own star, Irene.”
Back then, she had dismissed it all as re nagging.
"I heard your na every ti he lectured ."
"My apologies."
"Now that the subject of those lectures is right next to … it’s strange. And, well, intriguing."
"Hm."
The Swordmaster nodded, as if he understood. Their conversation was brief, each exchange ending quickly.
After a mont of silence, Irene, who had been quiet, finally voiced the question that had been weighing on her mind—the one that was hardest to believe.
"So… I heard you died two years ago."
"…"
"What happened?"
"…"
He didn't seem to be planning to answer.
The Swordmaster remained silent, the cheerful atmosphere vanishing as a cold stillness filled the air.
The mood had changed in an instant.
'Did I make a mistake?'
The way he reacted… it didn’t seem like a pleasant topic.
Maybe she should have approached the question differently?
As Irene began to sweat with tension, a low chuckle escaped from him.
"Pff… Haha!"
"…?"
"I'm sorry! You looked so tense, I couldn't help but play a little prank!"
The tense atmosphere lted away.
Now he was laughing heartily, just like any other middle-aged man, making her wonder whether to feel friendly or suspicious toward him.
He leaned back in his chair and continued the conversation as if nothing had happened.
"Actually, there’s not much to tell."
"…"
"I just had to pay a small price for trusting in justice a bit too much."
There was a surprising weight to his playful tone, a fleeting emotion in his eyes.
But he spoke in a calm, detached manner.
"Under normal circumstances, I would’ve died, just as the history records show."
The brilliant star that had once shone had fallen.
But in that mont of despair, soone had extended a hand.
"The Captain took in."
"The sly one?"
"It was nothing short of a miracle. Since then, I’ve devoted my life to him."
The Swordmaster gave a faint smile. Though he seed to joke, there was a depth to his expression that spoke of worn-down wisdom only adults could have.
"The others are the sa. Every one of us owes our lives to the Captain."
"All of those people…?"
The mbers who served the boy with near fanatical devotion seed to have reasons behind their faith after all.
"Abandoned orphans, wrongfully condemned prisoners, beggars with nothing left… even a fallen star."
They were lives cast aside, like trash on the streets.
"But he didn’t turn away from us."
The world had abandoned them, breaking their spirits, withering their resolve, stripping them of hope.
When they were all but dead, the golden serpent found them.
"That’s the reason for our loyalty."
"…"
"Especially for the girl who holds the position of Vice Captain. Her attachnt to him is understandable."
"And, uh, what exactly happened to her…?"
"Since I'm not her, that’s difficult to say."
"I see."
"In any case," he said, lightening the tone, moving to wrap up the conversation.
The Swordmaster shifted back to his casual deanor, leaving her with a few last words.
"Forming a bond ans becoming ‘tad.’"
“That’s sothing the Captain often says.”
"Those who aren’t tad have no distinct color of their own. Only those who are tad can witness a aningful landscape."
A glorious, golden light spreading before them.
"I hope you’ll have a mont like that soday."
"…"
Bonding, and taming.
She had heard it before, yet the aning still eluded her.
It felt like a puzzle she couldn't solve.
For a while, the fox stayed frozen, and in the end, she simply nodded quietly.
---
The day had flown by in a blur.
It was nearly dinnerti, so to make it back in ti for dorm curfew, Irene had to leave.
She was saying a brief goodbye to her siblings.
"Big sis… you’re leaving already?"
"Can’t you stay with us? All the teachers are so nice…"
"Aw…"
The children looked up at her, their eyes teary with sadness, and Irene managed a complicated smile as she comforted them.
"I have sothing I need to do."
"You really have to go?"
"I made a promise. I told you before, right? You shouldn’t break promises made with friends."
"Yeah…"
They answered reluctantly.
Of course, they weren’t genuinely throwing a tantrum or clinging to her. They understood how much their sister sacrificed to keep them safe.
They were forced to grow up too soon.
Years of hardship had pressed them down, perhaps robbing them of their childhood, forcing them to beco adults far too early.
"I’ll co back again when it’s vacation."
Irene forced a smile, and as she turned to leave, the boy beside her spoke up, his eyes half-shut with his usual sly grin.
"Oh, co now~ Foxes as fabulous as you shouldn’t be sad over sothing like this!"
With a practiced hand, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a stream of chocolates and candies as if by magic.
He handed each child a handful, throwing in a small wink.
"Here, a gift from ."
"Sniff, thank you…"
"Thank you, sir."
"Heh, it’s nothing."
The boy grinned, showing his skill at handling the children. His lighthearted tone lifted the mood, possibly as a courtesy to Irene.
‘Why…’
The fox looked at him with mixed emotions.
She rembered his words from earlier, a lingering question repeating in her mind.
‘Why… does he do all this for ?’
Looking back, he had been like this from the start.
He had saved her from that hellish cage and protected her siblings, always behaving in an oddly unsettling way but never once doing anything to harm her.
If anything, he seed to treat her with care.
‘It’s strange.’
Humans are despicable creatures.
They exploit others’ kindness, deceive them, and ultimately take everything away.
She had learned this hard truth at a high cost.
-"I’m sorry, Irene."
-"I wanted to be by your side forever."
The day she lost her teacher, she made a vow.
Never to trust humans again.
No matter what sweet lies they told, she would scoff and mock them.
But…
"It’s ti to head back, Irene."
"…Right."
"There’s no need to wait for vacation. You can co anyti you want."
"…"
She didn’t know what to make of it.
Every ti he approached her with that cheerful grin, her once-solid walls felt like they were beginning to crumble.
This kind of heavy kindness was unfamiliar.
Maybe it was the mory of those two years of fighting to survive that made her feel… weak.
Forcing herself to shake off the thought, Irene calmly replied.
"I trust your team to take care of the children."
"Of course. I would have preferred to send them to the orphanage we run at Astro, but, as you know, it’s still a sensitive ti."
"Orphanage? You run one of those, too?"
"It’s small, nothing major."
"Still, that’s… surprising."
The fox responded quietly, and the boy paused briefly before answering, his tone calm.
"I just didn’t want the children to be alone."
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"Lonely mories from childhood… they leave scars that last a lifeti."
His voice sounded calm, but though he was smiling as usual, his expression held a hint of sadness.
As though he were recalling sothing from long ago.
"…?"
"Well, that’s enough chatter."
As Irene tilted her head at the unfamiliar mood, the boy moved ahead toward the exit.
He exchanged greetings and jokes with the passing mbers as he left, his golden back fading into the distance.
"…"
Standing frozen, Irene finally began to walk, following the lingering trace of his path.
---
anwhile…
In an unknown building, dark and quiet, a few cloaked figures gathered.
They were a foreboding sight, surrounding a round table and watching each other in silence.
"The ti is near."
The figure at the center murmured softly.
They hadn’t said much, but their comrades nodded in understanding.
"We’ve lain low for a while… but now it’s ti to take root once again."
At the center of the black round table was a golden emblem, an image resembling an inverted tree.
Only one group would wear such wicked symbols.
The continent’s largest black magic sect, Bao-Bub.
After years of silence, the heretics were stirring once more.
"Two years ago today, we killed that ‘Crimson Swordmaster’ who caused us
so much trouble."
There had been so sacrifice, but the result had been satisfying.
There were no longer any strong figures on the continent to stand against them. This ti, they would carry out their master’s will.
"I hear there are promising students at Galimar Academy."
A summoner who controlled dragons.
The Empire’s first princess, called a prodigy like no other.
The twin siblings of the Vanity family.
And even the newly rising star of the Snaikers family.
"They’ll all make fine sacrifices for our master."
*Bang!!*
Behind the cloaked figure was a giant iron cage.
Sothing monstrous was trapped inside, its grotesque form sared with pieces of flesh, roaring as if thirsting for slaughter.
*Screech!!*
The sound was enough to tear at their eardrums, but the cloaked figures remained unfazed.
If anything, they burst into crazed laughter.
"Prepare yourselves."
Eyes gleaming with lust, they were already envisioning a continent engulfed in blood and flas.
A tremor ran down their spines from the thrill of it.
"The ti has co for us to reerge into the world."
Take root, you twisted trees.
"All for the origin of all things, our master… the Dark God."
"For our master."
In a place filled only with darkness and silence, danger had begun to take root.
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