Touka glanced at Sitri, then at Lucia, then at me, before saying, “Forgive me, CM, but I won’t be holding back in the tournament. You don’t pay us enough for that.”
So she would if we offered up enough cash? But more importantly, she seemed to be under the false impression that I would be participating. She must have heard the rumors going around.
Just between you and me, Touka, I’m not the Thousandfold Theurgics. That’s the real me!
Even someone as composed as Touka would be thrown for a loop if she met Krahi. I looked forward to seeing it happen.
“Likewise, my true self doesn’t hold back,” I said with a hard-boiled smile. “The real me is pretty strong. And has a billowing coat.”
Though the fake one also liked to flap his coat when he could.
Touka looked at me in surprise, quickly ruining my fun. “A-Ah. I see. A coat? W-Well I hope some mercy isn’t too much to ask for.”
“W-Well, I’m here to spectate. You should really be watching out for these guys behind me.”
I wanted to lower their expectations. They might get mad if they were expecting me to participate.
Just as I remembered them, Knights of the Torch gave one a unique impression. Their relationship with Grieving Souls couldn’t be described as good or bad. But they were rarely in the imperial capital, so we didn’t have many chances to interact with them. But they still seemed happy to see us. We sat around a table with them and Touka and the other prominent members began to pour me drinks.
“I don’t think it’s a coincidence that we ran into each other here,” I said. “Drink up, we’ll get you more.”
Except this was all coming out of Sitri’s wallet. She seemed to like Knights of the Torch. Probably because money could resolve any problems with them.
“You heard him,” Touka said to her knights. “Our master client requests it. Don’t squander their generosity. Drink up! Remember to be grateful to Sitri, as clients are rarely as kind as her. Salute!”
“Thank you!” the knights said, saluting in unison for the second time.
Sitri looked mildly astonished. These guys seemed to think saluting was never a bad idea. And what was a “master client”?
While we drank, I learned about what they had been getting up to lately. They had been doing their usual bounty hunting and fighting while traveling the world and then returned for the Supreme Warrior Festival. They had hunted down a pack of orcs that had attacked a village, crushed a gang of beastmen robbers, and went to a treasure vault just for the hell of it. I was impressed, but then I realized we had been up to an even greater variety of escapades.
Liz was having a drinking contest with one of the knights, and Lucia was watching with exasperation. Luke had set his sights onto the customers and was looking around the room with the eyes of a raptor.
While a knight poured me a drink, I asked the question that had been on my mind.
“Did you guys expand?”
Touka gave me a sharp look. Had I said something strange?
Knights of the Torch was a nomadic party that picked up new members as they traveled around. It was generally frowned upon for a party to increase their membership without consulting their clan, but First Steps allowed it.
I couldn’t recall the exact number of members they used to have, but it seemed to me like they had gained two or three people. Yet it appeared that I was wrong. I didn’t remember their individual faces, so maybe I really was off the mark.
I tried to brush it off with a laugh and said, “I just thought you used to be a smaller party. Yeah, you’ve gained what? Ten, eleven members?”
This was a joke. They might have grown, but definitely not that much. I expected Touka to laugh and tell me that I was being silly. And maybe tell me I was a funny guy. Instead, she folded her arms.
“Hmph. Sharp as always. Indeed, we’ve gained eleven new members.”
Huh? For real? No, no, no.
There was no way they had gained eleven members. Was she playing along with the bit, inviting me to play the straight man? I might’ve done it if I was with Ark, but Touka was a different beast. Sitri, who had even more people than me pouring her drinks, looked around wildly.
“You don’t appear to have gained any new faces,” she said. “Are they somewhere else?”
“Indeed,” Touka answered. “They’re on a mission. We’ve become well-known, but that’s brought us many enemies. Forgive me for not informing you earlier,” she said with a bow.
So she wasn’t joking? Not only that, the ones in the pub were all old members! I really didn’t know what to do.
“Raise your head,” I told her. “You’re free to expand your party. That was one of your conditions for joining our clan, remember?”
“Krai’s right,” Sitri chimed in. “You help us all the time, and we’re fine with it as long as it doesn’t cause us any trouble.”
“They’re— Oh, yeah, exactly. You guys always do so much for us, getting new members is no big deal. Ha ha ha.”
Their expansions didn’t cause any trouble except, uh, for Eva. Managing clan members was her duty. I was totally neglecting my responsibilities, but Touka nodded like I had a point.
“I appreciate your leniency. The Supreme Warrior Festival is a profitable time of the year for us. You see, a number of contestants have bounties on their heads.”
Violent words attracted our violent members.
“Hm? What’s this? Bounties?” Luke cut in.
“Ohh? What are we gonna kill?” Liz followed.
So they were hunting down contestants. Even before the big tournament, Knights of the Torch was hard at work. Enduring Luke’s and Liz’s stares, Touka sighed.
“Right, CM,” she said. “There’s something unusual about the bandits’ movements this year. They lack their usual boldness. This is just a gut feeling of mine, but it has me concerned. Do you know anything that might explain it?”
I was about to say that I didn’t know, that we should just be glad they weren’t being bold. But then something occurred to me, I snapped my fingers. Touka’s eyes lit up like her party’s namesake.
“Yeah,” I said, “that was bothering me so I enlisted some help. They might know a thing or two, so would you like to meet them?”
“Oh?”
The Fox Mask Fan Club. They were stupidly capable and had a fervent love for fox masks. They did unhinged things like drag me to their lair just because I was wearing a fox mask and show up outside my window, but they didn’t strike me as bad people and some of them seemed pretty strong.
I had given them Sitri’s list of bandits and asked them to find the people on the list. It seemed like the sort of thing they might be knowledgeable about. It was a dangerous task, so I had told them not to work too hard at it, but I think they were the type of people to heed such a warning. In that regard, having Touka work with them was reassuring for me. Unlike the Fox Mask Fan Club, she was a seasoned professional.
This worked for everyone, inducing me; the Fox Mask Fan Club would get a powerful ally, and Knights of the Torch worked better in large groups than small ones. I could also make Grieving Souls tag along. And I could throw in Princess Murina while I was at it.
Man. I’m on fire today.
“Oh, that reminds me,” I said as something popped into my head. “There’s something you need first—fox masks! The rarer the better. Of course, it would be best if you could get ones that match your armor. Do you think you can do that?”
***
Plan X was underway. All they had to do was follow their boss’s orders to the letter. Members of the organization didn’t need to think, all they were allowed to do was faithfully carry out orders. Thinking was the job of those higher up on the chain.
Galf Shenfelder, formerly the Bandit King, excelled at composing plans and giving orders. Even among the seventh tail, he was probably without equal in this regard. The bandit squad he once ran wasn’t some petty gang that went after towns and travelers. Instead, they would infiltrate towns and slowly but surely take control.
It only made sense that someone who reinforced caution with yet more caution had been invited to join Nine-Tailed Shadow Fox. Years later, his skills hadn’t rusted a bit. Nine-Tailed Shadow Fox had members across many nations, but Galf’s web of subordinates extended even further.
Among criminals, Fox had friends and foes alike. Sometimes they borrowed help from outlaws, which was a favorite method of the Bandit King. But even for him, the request given to him was daunting.
His subordinates looked over the list once more, then let out a collective groan before voicing their doubts.
“There’s so many on this list. And some of these guys are people we’ve been feuding with for years.”
“Negotiations are gonna be a nightmare. We might have to make concessions.”
“And gathering everyone on this list will put Plan A in jeopardy.”
These were completely valid objections. The plan, which they were supposed to be in the middle of, was based on precise calculations. Galf had already submitted a report detailing which criminals they planned to employ, so the boss couldn’t be unaware of the overlap. Despite this, many of said underworld figures were included on the list of organizations they were supposed to gather. Even Galf couldn’t help but wonder what the boss was thinking.
“At times like this, I wish we didn’t have to be so discreet about every little thing,” one of the subordinates complained.
Galf shrugged. That dedication to secrecy was how Fox had grown to its current size. Nobody knew where the bosses could be found and exchanging information required jumping through certain hoops. This way, even if a lower member were arrested, the organization’s core personnel wouldn’t be compromised.
However, this same structure meant that acquiring confirmation in irregular circumstances couldn’t be done quickly. There was nothing Galf feared more than an imposter. It was hard to think someone could impersonate a Fox even higher-ranked than Galf, but it wasn’t impossible. Except there were code signs meant for these situations. And in really dire cases, there were the Holy Fox Maidens.
“The boss,” Galf muttered. “He wasn’t like the one I remember.” He cast a glance towards the Maiden, who was standing nearby.
“Are you doubting the White Fox? I’m quite certain of my judgment,” she asserted.
“Having doubts is part of my job,” he replied.
“We Maidens have been graced with special eyes for our service to the gods. Our vision tells us no lies. And if he weren’t the White Fox, why would he have been wearing a mask like that outside?”
She was right. The fox masks weren’t meant to be worn at all times, and that mask in particular wasn’t something just anyone could get their hands on.
The protocol for determining a boss’s authenticity was to enlist a Maiden. The Holy Fox Maidens were considered sacred and beyond reproach. Their eyes could see past any disguise and would never misidentify something as divine. Galf didn’t believe in higher powers, but his career in Fox would soon be over if people knew that he had doubted a Maiden.
Regardless of his suspicions, the plan remained the same. Worst case, he could check during his regular contact with headquarters. He told himself to look at things simply. All that was really happening was that he and his crew were getting a bit more work. Besides, forming alliances with formerly antagonistic criminals would be useful later down the road. The only thing that couldn’t be allowed was the failure of Plan X.
Then, the man assigned to keep close to the boss came dashing in. He was an extraordinarily talented man who wore a fox mask of pure black and was trained in the techniques of the shinobi. Outfitted with a perception-warping Relic, there was nobody more suited to running errands for the boss.
Galf would’ve preferred to have this man gathering information, but other people could do that, and keeping the boss happy was important.
The man approached Galf and said in a flat tone, “Galf Shenfelder. The boss is calling for you.”
***
Oh. They really came.
Upon finding my stalker friend from the Fox Mask Fan Club outside my window, I gave him a request. I then put on my fox mask, struck a dignified pose, and soon found the leader-looking guy and the priestess girl brought before me.
The leader was tall, with a tight, muscular frame. I couldn’t see his face due to his mask, but he certainly struck me as strong. Next to him was the priestess, aloof as the first time we met.
“You really came. You take this stuff seriously,” I said.
“You honor me, boss,” the leader said as he and the priestess knelt before me.
How valuable did this mask have to be to warrant this excessive loyalty? I had never once said I was their boss.
I saw their eyes shift from me to the people at my side—Touka and Princess Murina. Touka was outfitted in her usual reddish-brown armor and katana at her side, but she wore a crimson fox mask, just like I had suggested. Murina hadn’t been able to obtain a fox mask, so she was making do with one modeled after a tanuki. I figured it was fine as long as her face was hidden.
“Um? What’s the meaning of this, boss?” the leader asked as his bulging eyes darted between the two.
Sorry. Forgive me for complicating things.
“I thought they could help with the request I gave you,” I told him. “I realize I asked a bit much of you. So I called these two. Uh, um, Tsuneko here is good in a fight and has lots of subordinates.”
“Tsune...ko?” Touka repeated.
I’ll make sure she has Grievers in her ranks.
Touka stepped forward and said in a clear, decisive tone, “You may call me Tsuneko! We fight per the boss’s orders, and only he may claim the right to order us. Please, think of us as nothing more than collaborators!”
What insanity. We hadn’t discussed what I would call her beforehand, yet she simply rolled with it. Awfully gutsy of her. I guess in her case she was just being professional.
“Is this the boss’s primary team?” the leader said. “This armor, I’ve seen it before. Is this what I think it is?”
Through their zealous efforts, Knights of the Torch had apparently made a name for themselves. I figured it wasn’t the worst thing in the world if Touka didn’t remain incognito. Things could get dicey if Murina’s identity was uncovered, but I didn’t think that would happen, given how rarely she had gone out in public.
“And, over here,” I said, “is, right, Ponta. She holds a unique position, so just bear that in mind.”
“Ponta,” she echoed.
Ah, don’t tell me that was disrespectful.
Princess Ponta stood there vacantly. Just as I was wondering when her passive nature might improve, she stepped forward, and for some reason, bowed gracefully.
“P-Please call me Ponta,” she said. “I hope you can forgive any mistakes I may make.”
In Zebrudia’s long history, I was probably the only person to introduce the imperial princess as “Ponta.”
While the leader continued to look back and forth between Tsuneko and Ponta, I got over my bewilderment and said, “Are you perhaps not a fan?”
The Fox Mask Fan Club struck me as reliable, so much so that it was nonsensical, but Touka was a good bonus. Plus Sitri was the one paying for her.
After spending a moment in thought, the leader dipped his head and said, “Nothing of the sort. Thank you for your consideration.”
Once the Fox Mask Fan Club took them off, I felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders.
“Thank goodness.”
All my worries had been dealt with in one fell swoop and it was thanks to my dear friend Sitri for bankrolling Knights of the Torch. I’d have to thank her. And now Murina’s training was taken care of. It was like the pieces had just fallen into place. I took the opportunity to sit back and relax.
“Excellent leadership, O White Fox,” the priestess from the Fox Mask Fan Club said in a dignified voice.
“What are you still doing here?” I asked.
“I have no other duties but to serve you.”
They took this stuff real seriously. It seemed the Fox Mask Fan Club wasn’t all fun and games. But what would my friends say if they saw this girl following me around?
And just how old is she?
I didn’t know what place she held in the club, but she was the only one not wearing a mask. Looking at her expression, I could tell she was at least a bit on edge.
Hmmm.
“Uhhh...”
“My name is Sora Zohlo, a Holy Fox Maiden,” she said after a pause, a bit of the tension dissipating as she spoke. “Please, call me Sora.”
Holy Fox Maiden. I had never heard the term, but maybe she was famous among people who were into fox masks.
Could she have something to do with the fox gods of Peregrine Lodge? Ha ha ha, no way.
I was slightly embarrassed about it, but there was something I needed to make sure of. I cleared my throat and steeled my nerves.
“Sora, there’s something that’s been bothering me. Is this mask really that rare?”
It was a genuine question, but I received a rather dramatic reaction after a long pause.
“Wha?”
This mask dropped in Peregrine Lodge was undeniably a valuable piece. But as far as I could tell, it didn’t have any special powers or anything.
When phantoms were killed, they usually dissipated entirely, not leaving behind so much as a scrap of cloth. Though it was extraordinarily rare, there were exceptions in which some item or another would remain. These drop rates were proportional to a phantom’s power. However, the items were generally quite weak compared to Relics. You could say they were like a phantom’s dregs.
So while the mask was undoubtedly rare, it didn’t strike me as something that would inspire the fealty that the Fox Mask Fan Club was showing me. It was a snazzy-looking thing, but modern technology could easily replicate it and the other fan club members all had pretty nice masks themselves.
Sora had lost her devout composure and appeared beyond confused. She looked behind her, making sure nobody else was around, then looked back at me.
“O White Fox, what do you mean? Is this some sort of joke?” she asked in a trembling voice.
“You see, I got this mask a while back when I defeated a phantom in a treasure vault.”
“Huaaah?! Wha?!”
Sora’s complexion went pale, then red, then back to pale. It was sort of amusing.
But what did she think this mask was? I took it off and examined it once more. It had an excellent design and gave a strange impression, but it was still just a mask. Personally, when it came to masks, I preferred something with powers, like Reversible Face.
Sora crossed her arms, a cold sweat pouring out across her.
“Huh? Ummm. Rrrrmmm.”
“Hey, could I sell this for a tidy sum? Is it valuable?”
“Sell?!” she exclaimed, her cheek twitching. “N-N-No, you can’t do that.”
Now I understood. This was one of those things too valuable to put up for sale. But I still didn’t get where that value came from. I had only worn it because I hadn’t had any other means of hiding my face. If possible, I would’ve preferred something that had holes to see through, so I wouldn’t have to rely on that Relic.
Sora moved up so she was only mere inches away. She looked at me closely, then said in a low conspiratorial voice, “P-Please correct me if I’m mistaken. You aren’t the White Fox, and this mask is something you obtained from a treasure vault?”
Those desperate words finally made me realize something I should have picked up on long ago.
“Oh. Have you mistaken me for someone else?”
Sora let out a faint cry, then clutched her head and twisted her body.
“This can’t be,” she slowly whispered.
I put the mask back on and tried consoling her.
“Now, now, these things happen.”
“Why didn’t you say anything when I grabbed your hand?!”
What was I supposed to say? She was the one who had suddenly grabbed my hand, said “Right this way,” and taken me to the Fox Mask Fan Club meeting. I never intended to deceive or use anyone. I had been flummoxed from the first minute.
“S-So why did you call us the Fox Mask Fan Club?” Sora asked.
“Hm? Was I wrong? You all seemed to be wearing fox masks.”
“Who? Who would do that? Is that normal? No. No, it’s not. Nobody told me this might happen!”
And what was I supposed to say to that? What should I have said back there in that room? For once, I was entirely blameless. This was on Sora and the Fox Mask Fan Club (temp. name) that dispatched her. But pointing that out didn’t seem like the mature thing to do. Instead, I put on a hard-boiled and composed demeanor.
“Now, now, if you do the honest thing and fess up, I’m sure they’ll forgive you.”
“Forgiven?! Is that what you said? I won’t be forgiven! I gave them my word! I clearly gave them my word that you’re the White Fox!”
“Uh. No, you should confess. You need to obey COCOA. COnsult, COnfide, Alert.”
“Why do you have an authentic mask?! Only the divine White Fox and those recognized by our vulpine gods can own one! It’s a boss’s identifier!”
“What? I just got this from some trash mob in Peregrine Lodge.”
Sora recoiled.
I was hardly the only person to have wandered into that vault, not to mention that phantom had been killed by a simple conversation. There were probably a few of these masks floating around out there.
“And you said this is a boss’s identifier?” I pressed on. “Don’t you think that’s a funny system? It can easily create misunderstandings. I think you should change it. Why not consult with your club?”
Sora covered her ears and sat down.
There must’ve been at least a handful of white fox masks going around. Making a fake one didn’t seem impossible either.
“This time it was just a simple mistake, but a malicious person might use this system to get close to you.”
“J-Just be quiet for a moment!”
“Ah. Okay.”
I was trying to help the Fox Mask Fan Club (temp. name) but it seemed Sora wasn’t interested at the moment. With nothing better to do, I folded my arms and waited for her to make a decision.
I hadn’t done anything wrong. I had simply worn a fox mask I happened to have on hand in order to hide my face. Not a smidgen of blame rested on me. But this was looking like it could turn into something bothersome. I was willing to apologize if the need arose. I had ordered them around, after all.
I heard Sora sporadically muttering to herself, as though organizing her thoughts.
“So?”
“Was this a mistake?”
“But that mask is authentic?”
“But I was wrong to call him the White Fox.”
“But that divine mask is authentic?”
“But he’s not a boss?”
“Could this be the organization’s fault?”
“Ahhh. All on my first assignment.”
I didn’t see what the big deal was. We all make mistakes. I did it all the time. What’s important is the future. Nobody was going to die or anything because of Sora’s mistake, so I thought she should take it a bit easier.
Eventually, Sora seemed to have her thoughts in order and stood up. She briefly wobbled from the vertigo, then stabilized herself. As she glared at me, I could see my mask reflected in her tears.
“You are, beyond all possible doubt, the White Fox,” she said.
“What? You’re wrong. I’m just some hunter who happened to acquire a mask.”
Had she listened to a word I had said?
“I’m not wrong,” she said, pressing a finger into my chest. “You are the White Fox, recognized by the divine, bearer of a sacred artifact!”
“Huh?! That’s wrong!”
“I was taught that if the mask is authentic, then so is its wearer! I’m a priestess, a devout Holy Fox Maiden. My eyes can not be fooled, this I swear!”
“I see. That’s, um, incredible.”
She’s digging her feet in. What’s a devout Holy Fox Maiden? Hell, what’s the Fox Mask Fan Club (temp. name)? Is it fun? Maybe I should join? But then would I have to swear obedience to the White Fox or whoever?
“In summary, I’ve made no mistake,” Sora insisted.
“No, you have,” I told her.
“Nor do I have any intent to harm the organization. If anyone claims I’ve made a mistake, then they’re the traitors.”
Hold on. Is she just trying to gloss over her screwup? Could it be that she’s just bad at her job?
I suddenly sympathized with her. Nobody had to make wild improvisations as I did.
“Wouldn’t it be better to come clean?” I said. “If you do, I’ll apologize alongside you.”
I saw that Sora’s eyes were spinning. It seemed she wasn’t interested in listening to me. Sweating profusely, she raised a clenched fist.
“If it’s come to this, we have no choice but to break old bonds! We’ll forge a new organization, one led by our new blessed White Fox! We’ll call it—Ten-Tailed Shadow Fox! By having one more tail, we’ll be the superior organization!”
It sounded like she was panicking. Was she really okay with this?
“No. No, we can’t do that,” I said.
“Huh?!”
Ten-Tailed Shadow Fox. What an unfortunate name. After the incident with the emperor, foxes didn’t have the best connotations and we could be mistaken with those other guys. Names are important. I frequently regretted deeming our party “Grieving Souls.” I had gotten used to the name and lost interest in changing it, but when we were first starting out, it had on occasion caused us to be mistaken for a ghost party.
I was a fool, but I never made the same mistake twice. Sora was looking at me with wide eyes. I made a proclamation of pure bullshit.
“That’s a bad name. Here, let’s go with this: Ten-Tailed Fried Tofu.”
“Ten-Tailed. Fried tofu?!”
She sounded like she was losing it, but I was serious.
“Indeed, Ten-Tailed Fried Tofu. Fried tofu is a wonderful thing. It can even save lives. It’s a delicious name.”
Fried tofu had in fact saved me from having to go to battle once. And it’s delicious. Tasty things are the world’s redemption.
“You want to name a secret organization Ten-Tailed Fried Tofu? Are you entirely devoid of sense?” Sora protested.
Secret organization? Did she say “secret organization?”
“Secret?” I said. “No, we won’t be a secret. We’ll be making delicious inarizushi bentos, a dish packed with fried tofu. We’ll spread across the nation, then take over the entire world.”
“Are you serious?!”
We would produce fried tofu. Then make delicious inarizushi bentos marked with the White Fox seal. I, of course, wouldn’t take part, but it seemed like a perfect fit since the phantoms of Peregrine Lodge loved fried tofu.
Man, I’m on fi— Okay, maybe I’m not on fire today. Well, let’s just do what we can.
Sora looked as though she had attained some form of enlightenment when we entered the luxurious living room.
“Wh-What’s this? Leader, who is she?” Lucia said, looking up from her book.
I didn’t really know how to answer that question. Honestly, saying that I didn’t really know who Sora was seemed like the best option, but that would’ve been irresponsible. But I didn’t know who she was.
“Let’s just say the circumstances are complicated,” I said. “This is tricky for me too.”
Sora was expressionless. Her eyes were dead. It seemed she didn’t want to go home. She probably feared the backlash that awaited her there. Instead, she stubbornly insisted that it was her job to accompany the White Fox, so I had no choice but to keep her with me. But I couldn’t look after her forever.
I was always getting wrapped up in stuff that eluded my understanding and I had a feeling this was another one of those times. I still thought our best option was to give an honest apology to the Fox Mask Fan Club (temp. name).
“Goodness! More nonsense. Why are you always—”
“Right, Lucia. Charge these, would you?”
“Augh!”
I tossed her Third Vision, which I needed to see with the mask, and Owl’s Eye, which I needed to see in the dark. Lucia deftly caught both Relics before giving me a look that could kill. Hiding behind me, Sora watched this exchange with wide eyes.
“Is this, could it be? O White Fox, are you part of Grieving Souls?” she asked in a quiet voice.
“Yeah, that’s right. You know your stuff.”
I kept my face hidden, but Lucia’s was known by many. Apparently, her fame made her known even to the Fox Mask Fan Club (temp. name).
“It’s fine. Fine. I’m not a traitor,” Sora muttered while pouring sweat. “I’m a Maiden. I’m correct. Correct. Correct. I’m not the one mistaken. O divine fox, please watch over me. Right, this is an infiltration mission. No. No obfuscations. I’m correct!”
I don’t think that’s right. Really, honesty is the best approach.
She didn’t have to worry so much. People are quick to forget pain. And in my experience, most things just sort of worked themselves out. Nonetheless, I could somewhat relate to the panic she was feeling.
“Sitri!” I called, unsure if she was actually around. “Sorry but could I borrow you?”
“Certainly,” she replied cheerily. “Has something happened?”
Ah, she had been in her bedroom.
I was going to show Sora how a Level 8 improvised.
“I was looking to make an organization that produces inarizushi bento,” I said with a pathetic smile. “I thought we should start with securing a base to operate out of.”
“Huh? Uh, inarizushi bento, you say?”
Sitri blinked. Lucia and Sora both looked at me like I was out of my freaking mind. I started to think that even Sitri, my usual savior, would find this a bit too much.
No. If anyone can do it, it’s her!
“Do you think you can make something work?” I asked her.
“Ummm. Well. Forgive me, but might I ask for a reason?”
Reason? There’s no goddamn reason. I’m just being swept along by circumstance.
“It’s, of course, for that,” I said with a stern expression. “That that.”
What was that? It was, of course, that.
Sitri looked momentarily confused before a smile blossomed and she clapped her hands. “I see. That! Understood, I’ll get to work! When do you need it?”
“Immediately.”
“Immediately?!” Sitri’s eyes flew wide open, allowing me to see the confusion she harbored. “The Supreme Warrior Festival is about to begin—”
“Yes, but this is that, which we’re talking about,” I asserted.
Sitri sank into a silence, then nodded. “Very well. Since it’s that. I’m going out for a bit. I may be late getting back.”
With a suspicious gaze, Lucia watched this entire exchange.
“Leader, what is that?” she asked me.
“Huh? I dunno.”
“Brother, you really are going to end up being forced into a marriage with her!”
Sitri sure was reliable. I had always been on Team Sitri. She was agreeable and her personality was compatible with mine. But I wasn’t going to marry her.
See that, Sora? That’s how you improvise.
I let out a yawn and sank into a comfy chair. Then I remembered I had some bragging to do. I had to tell Little Sister Fox all about how I was forming an organization for making inarizushi bento.
***
Sora entirely failed to keep up with the changing situation. It made no sense. The only thing she understood was that she had been thrown into an unenviable position.
It was preposterous to think that she had mistakenly identified the White Fox. It threw the meaning of the Maidens’ existence into question. They occupied a special spot within the organization, but by no means did that make Sora irreplaceable.
The white fox mask was authentic. Normally, that might’ve earned her some leeway, but not when that mask was worn by a member of Grieving Souls, the archenemies of Nine-Tailed Shadow Fox.
To put it succinctly, Sora had been tricked. She had been made the victim of an elaborate ploy on her very first assignment. And the man behind it all had mocked her, telling her just to come clean to her cohorts.
She could never admit to what she had done. To do that would certainly be inviting her own execution. Even if her life were to be spared, she would be imprisoned, and there was no guarantee that would be better than death. And she didn’t expect her fellow Maidens would come to her aid.
Sora was aboard a sinking ship and getting off was no longer an option. She didn’t want to die. She had been born into the life of a Maiden, and she refused to let that life end for something that was no fault of her own.
Perhaps it was unbecoming of a Maiden to think like this, but Sora was certain she had done no wrong. That mask was genuine. Those who held the divine masks became an object of worship, and that was the basis for the existence of the Holy Fox Maidens. At some point, the tail had started wagging the dog and the Maidens had become servants of Nine-Tailed Shadow Fox, but that wasn’t the way it should’ve been.
What Sora was now doing was a return to the old ways. It was her duty to make things right again. She wasn’t doing anything wrong. She would return things to the way they were meant to be. She would devote herself to the White Fox and his new organization, Ten-Tailed Fried Tofu. They would spread inarizushi across the land! Sora was doing no wrong!
“Will this suffice, Krai?” the Alchemist asked. “It wasn’t easy, but I managed to get this. For that.”
Why is she willing to put so much effort into this idiotic plan?
“Good job getting this on such short notice,” the Thousand Tricks replied.
Oblivious to Sora’s thoughts, he had an infuriatingly doltish smile.
It was the next morning and they were in a small building not far from Kreat’s center. It appeared to have once been a café or something of the sort, as there was an excellent kitchen that almost looked out of place. Living spaces furnished with basic furniture occupied the second floor.
Sora wasn’t familiar with the ways of the world, but even she could tell that this wasn’t something you obtained for the sake of a mere joke. There must have been something wrong with this Sitri person if she was willing to obey such an absurd order.
Sora began to consider going into hiding. Maybe she could throw Fox off the trail if she changed her clothes and hair.
The fake—no, the new White Fox was probably trying to stop the operation that the organization was carrying out in Kreat. As a mere Maiden, Sora hadn’t been informed of the details, but she had heard it was a massive endeavor that would change the world. It was all being managed by a man of the seventh tail who had planned it out in meticulous detail. But Sora thought it had been doomed to failure the moment she had mistaken an imposter for the boss.
But she didn’t see how an organization that made fried tofu could interfere with this. She had never even seen inarizushi in her life!
“I’ve also prepared fried tofu!” Sitri said. “It’s not a common food around here, so obtaining it was quite difficult.”
“Huh? You really got some?” the Thousand Tricks responded.
Sora was bewildered, but she couldn’t just sit still and do nothing. She no longer had a home in her old organization. She had to survive. No, it was her sacred duty to serve the new White Fox! Sora had done nothing wrong! Forcing herself to perk up, she clenched her fist and raised her head.
“I await your orders, O White Fox,” she said, “I, Sora Zohlo the Maiden, will support you to my last breath. Please, watch over me! Also, I might add that I don’t know how to cook! I’ve never done it before!”
Was conquering the world with food even possible? What in the world was this man thinking? Was this the same preterhuman artifice that had fooled Sora? It was all too confusing, it made her head spin. Even still, she was desperately trying to support the new White Fox. But he just furrowed his brow.
“Krai, I’ll remind you there’s nothing I hate more than being in the red,” Sitri said.
“And what do you like most?” he said after a momentary pause.
“That would of course be...that. You should give me more of that.”
“Ha ha ha, you’re a funny one.”
“Heh heh, I try to be. This is also in the name of that. Indeed—that.”
The White Fox didn’t look remotely like someone ready and motivated to interfere with one of Fox’s plans. Did he even understand that Sora had quickly made her way to Kreat because a fake could ruin Galf’s plan?
She decided to ignore Sitri’s pouting for the time being and observed the White Fox. But she quickly gave up on trying to use her brain. There was nothing a mere Maiden could do in this situation.
***
It was an era of resplendence brought about by the bounty of treasure vaults. The treasure hunters who retrieved Relics from these vaults were sometimes praised as champions. Hunting was considered the fastest path to wealth, glory, and power, thus making this the golden age of treasure hunting.
Exhibiting superb talents since a young age, Krahi Andrihee’s foray into hunting was inexorable. As far back as he could recall, he had yearned for that life, and for just as long, even the adults around him were convinced he would be excellent at it.
Krahi didn’t grow up to be particularly large, but his instincts were razor-sharp and his magical aptitude was on a level often thought impossible for men (generally, women were said to be more suited to being Magi). But most of all, he had what all hunters needed, which was the ability to efficiently absorb and retain mana material.
And so, as though guided by the hand of fate, Krahi Andrihee became a hunter. But even with his abilities that appeared to be a gift of the very heavens, the treasure vaults proved formidable.
The path that he had set out on was a thorny one, but he poured everything he could into moving along it. He conquered a number of vaults. He improved. He came close to losing his life, all the while being targeted by criminals. He didn’t waste a moment. He even sacrificed sleep. To Krahi Andrihee, hardships were trials offered by the gods, and overcoming them was a joyful occasion.
Before he knew it, his name had spread far and wide. He still hadn’t been granted a title, but many hunters had become familiar with his name. Proudly proffering it had paid off. Titles were generally granted by the Explorers’ Association, but Krahi couldn’t bear the thought of getting something unappealing.
Thousandfold Theurgics, the powers of the gods, tempered relentlessly. That was the ideal envisioned by Krahi. People got his title wrong on occasion, but that was nothing more than a trifle. Some people even had the false idea that he was a Level 8, but that must have been because he gave the impression of being just that powerful.
Krahi Andrihee, the Thousandfold Theurgics, (could be mistaken for a) Level 8. At long last, he obtained the right to participate in the greatest of all martial events—the Supreme Warrior Festival! He felt a flood of different emotions.
At the time, there was an absurd number of rumors about him swirling around. Krahi wasn’t Level 8, he had no title, he had never eliminated any major criminal organizations, nor had he made any flower fields into treasure vaults. Surely, such gossip was simply a product of the high expectations people had of him.
By taking the championship at the Supreme Warrior Festival, he would be able to overcome those rumors. He would find himself up against immense foes. Many of them had probably been walking the path of a warrior for far longer than him. But Krahi was in top condition. He could pull this off. His might was on par with that of a Level 8.
Not to mention, he had allies. At first, Krahi had been a solo hunter, but his ideals had attracted valuable comrades to his side. In the Supreme Warrior Festival, you couldn’t fight alongside your friends, but just knowing they were there was enough to give Krahi a boost.
They were all part of a party. He had been surprised when his friends suggested calling themselves “Bereaving Souls” and making a mask their signature item. Krahi, however, wasn’t the type to dismiss his friends without at least hearing them out first.
In the living room of the suite rented by Bereaving Souls, Elizabeth Smyat the Eyeful Shadow and Kule Saicool the Protean Sortie were having a grave discussion.
“So are we just screwed? What do we do, Kule? No way I can win against the real one.”
“Hmm. This is indeed bad. I hadn’t anticipated the authentic counterparts making an appearance.”
Elizabeth Smyat was a Thief. She had fluorescent pink hair that burned the eyes and wore gear that left very little to the imagination. But what drew more attention than that was her large chest. That was the source of her title, “Eyeful Shadow.” She thought her appellation was a stupid one and she had a bad habit of making snide remarks, but she wasn’t a bad Thief.
Kule Saicool was the brains of the party. He could be easily identified by his glasses and polite register. Inexplicably, he claimed to be a Swordsman despite having never swung a sword. He was of next to no help in combat, but since Krahi had no leadership experience, the Protean Sortie kept things running smoothly.
The other members also had their odd points, but for someone like Krahi, who had been a solo hunter until this point, they were irreplaceable.
“Besides Krahi, our party is nothing noteworthy,” Kule sighed.
“Well yeah. If I was anything noteworthy, you think I’d let people call me ‘Izabee’?” Izabee said.
“That’s not true!” Krahi cut in, unable to bear hearing his friends talk like this. However they had met up, it didn’t change the fact that they were a party. Though he tried to talk them out of it, low self-esteem was something that plagued their party.
“Kule, Izabee. If it weren’t for you two and the rest of the party, I wouldn’t have made it to such a prestigious tournament. You have my thanks.”
Izabee’s face went taut. Kule looked uncomfortable.
“Why’s this guy so goddamn strong?” Izabee muttered. “I wasn’t expecting he’d get to the Supreme Warrior Festival.”
“Well, that’s what happens if you make it on your own for so long. He’s the only one not faking it.”
That was right. Krahi wasn’t going to lose, no matter who he was up against. He was ready for anything!
I’ll change things. I’ll do more than make myself known, I’ll make all of Bereaving Souls known across the land.
That was Krahi’s other dream. He reaffirmed his determination and looked out the window. With eyes burning with passion, he looked upon the streets of Kreat. With the Supreme Warrior Festival approaching, they were becoming livelier with each passing day. Suddenly, he recalled that young man who resembled him. Would he come to cheer Krahi on at the tournament?
No Comments Yet
Post a new comment
Register or Login