I looked back at Kitsuna in her fox form, letting the Commander's body drop to the ground with a dull thud. The corpse bounced once before crumpling into the dirt, forgotten like a toy at the bottom of a chest. Kitsuna, though, was anything but forgettable.
She was mostly red, her fur glistening with streaks of blood and smoke. Black markings coiled across her body like living tattoos, shifting faintly with her breath. Her nine tails flared behind her, massive and wild, the same red-and-black coloration as her body, though each ended in snowy-white tips that looked far too pure for what they'd just done. Her eyes were back to normal now—no more glowing, no madness in the whites. Just those red irises, set in a sea of black sclera.
For anyone else, that would have been terrifying. For me, it was almost nostalgic.
"To think she'd unlock two major powers in one night. Haaah… troublesome." I sighed to myself, dragging a hand down my face. Then, louder, I called out, "Rebecca!?"
A shimmer of mana later, Rebecca appeared beside me, her cloak flapping in the hot, blood-soaked wind. She followed my gaze to Kitsuna, who towered over the battlefield like a vengeful goddess in miniature.
"Well," Rebecca said carefully, "how are we going to deal with her?" Her tone carried both respect and worry, the way one might speak of a sleeping dragon that could sneeze and flatten a mountain.
"Nothing." I shook my head. "Get everyone away from the mansion. Also, take the guy with you." I pointed lazily at the crumpled commander's body.
Rebecca blinked. "Wait—you can't be serious. She's going to destroy everything if we just—"
"Yes," I interrupted flatly, "and we're going to let her. I can't do shit right now. Digging through her memories earlier took more out of me than I expected. At the moment, knocking her out would be… let's say, unpleasantly difficult."
Rebecca's eyes narrowed. "You're planning to keep her alive?"
"Of course. She's my daughter." I frowned at her. The fact that she even had to ask annoyed me.
"That's not the only reason, is it?"
I just gave her a slow nod. No words. None needed.
Rebecca sighed, her shoulders relaxing just enough to show her trust, and with a flick of her wrist, she hoisted the Commander's corpse like luggage. "Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you." Then she blinked out of sight again.
'Of course, it isn't the only reason,' I thought, my lips quirking into something that was halfway between a smile and a snarl. Kitsuna is just like me.
And oh, how glorious it was.
I let my gaze wander across the battlefield. Federation soldiers were nothing more than crimson smears decorating the cracked courtyard stones, their broken weapons glittering like confetti. Some bodies were flattened, others torn in half, and some reduced to chunks. Kitsune's tails swatted them aside like flies, launching armored men through the air so high their screams cut off before they even landed.
It was… beautiful.
My only real worry was whether Kitsuna had completely lost control of herself. Judging by the blank focus in her eyes, she wasn't fully conscious of what she was doing. That made me nervous. Excited too, but mostly nervous.
I tore my eyes away from her and glanced toward the mansion. Rebecca and Lily were helping survivors out through shattered windows, their figures darting back and forth. But no one else. No guards at the perimeter. No Black Ops at their posts.
My stomach knotted.
"Where the hell is the rest of the guard?" My voice was low, but the unease in it was sharp enough to cut glass.
The question rattled in my head as I sprinted from the yard, leaving the smell of blood and fire behind me. My boots crunched over debris and bodies.
Turning the corner near the armory, I heard voices—panicked, hushed.
"No—ugh!!" A scream, choked and cut short.
I bolted forward. Another turn, and there they were: three of my Black Ops, lying crumpled in the hallway like broken dolls.
I dropped to one knee beside them. Two had wounds I didn't recognize—burns that weren't burns, punctures that didn't make sense. But the third… the third had a knife buried in his back.
That was no enemy strike. That was betrayal.
And the only way it could have happened this close to the armory was if one of our own had done it.
My eyes narrowed to slits.
I rose and ran faster, my hair whipping behind me.
"Move faster! They'll notice we're gone any minute now!" a voice hissed ahead.
I slowed, slipping into the shadows, and peered around the final corner.
There, at the armory entrance, stood Captain Dave—my captain. My most trusted Black Ops officer. He was flanked by five others, their arms laden with crates. Federation crates.
"Dave," I said, my voice flat, empty. Like the grave.
They all froze. Dave turned, mask slipping into something almost sheepish. "Milady. Shouldn't you be… watching the young miss outside?"
I didn't move. "I asked first."
He shifted closer to his men, his hand sliding behind his back. "What does it look like? We're saving the weapons, of course."
"Mm. And the bodies in the hall?" My tone sharpened, steel beneath silk.
He didn't answer.
Instead, he yanked his hand free and leveled something at me—a short, awkward-looking staff. Except it wasn't magic; I felt humming from it. It was something else. Something cold, sharp, alien.
"You'll let us go," Dave said, lips curling into a grin, "or I'll kill you. These weapons are newly made by the Federation. Incredible penetration power. Ha!" His laugh was brittle, tinged with mania.
I tilted my head, eyes on the staff. Recognition tickled the edge of my memory. "So. It was you who let the spies in. You who opened the door for tonight's little massacre."
His smile widened. "Smart as always. And yes. A reincarnation made this. Called it a… musket. Primitive, but effective. Just imagine—whole armies carrying them."
'So that's it,' I thought, suppressing a grim chuckle. Guns. Amari had told me about them years ago.
Before I could say more, the ground shook violently.
BOOOOOM!
Half the mansion collapsed in a roar of splintered stone and fire. Dust and smoke belched into the air.
All six traitors whipped their heads toward the sound.
"What the hell was that!?" one shouted.
"Kitsuna," I thought, my lips curling into a smile.
I moved.
By the time Dave turned back, I was already on him. My hand snapped around the musket, twisting it out of his grip as my knee drove into his gut. He flew backward, choking. The others barely had time to raise their stolen weapons before I was among them. A heel to the temple, a fist to the throat, a head slammed against stone—one by one, they fell.
When the dust settled, all six were unconscious, bound tightly with rope I scavenged from the racks. I dragged them into the courtyard like sacks of flour, dropping them unceremoniously by the mansion's shattered doors.
Kitsuna sat there, massive and silent, watching me. Her eyes tracked my every step.
I tilted my head at her. "You good?"
No answer. Just the faint ripple of her tail swaying.
I dropped the rope bundle and stepped closer. She followed me with her gaze, a predator's focus unwavering.
"Are you done?" I asked, voice firm.
This time, she gave me a small nod. Then her body slumped, tail sagging, and she collapsed onto her side. A moment later—
SNNOOORRREEEE.
I blinked. Then laughed. "It seems she overworked herself."
"At least she didn't destroy the entire mansion," Rebecca said, appearing at my side, brushing rubble dust from her cloak.
"True." I nodded gravely. "Though the self-repair enchantments are toast."
As if on cue—PFFFFFTTT!—a long hiss of smoke erupted from Kitsuna's body. Her tail flared, shuddered, then began to shrink. The great beast dwindled before our eyes, coughing out plumes of black mist.
Rebecca stiffened. "What's happening!?"
"She's losing her nine tails," I said, my voice calm but edged with sadness.
"What!? Why!? Is it because of the Sin?"
"Yes. Don't worry. It's a good thing. Training with fewer tails will make it easier for her to control herself."
Rebecca exhaled slowly. "So she can get them back?"
"Of course. Depends on how hard she works."
The smoke cleared, and there she was—still a fox, but… tiny. Barely a meter tall, her fur fluffier now, her proportions comically cute. Her tails, once vast and terrible, were now plump little banners of red and black, tipped in white.
"CUUUUUTE!!" a high-pitched squeal shattered the moment.
I whipped around to see Amari sprinting toward us, eyes wide, arms already outstretched. Behind her, Dean walked at a slower, resigned pace.
"Oi!? Dean, why is she here!?" My chest tightened. Amari was too young to be seeing this kind of carnage.
"Relax, Milady," Rebecca said. "We cleaned up the worst of it."
I exhaled. "Good."
Amari barreled into the courtyard and scooped up the tiny Kitsuna, hugging her tight. "MOM! MOM! Can we keep it!?"
Rebecca opened her mouth. "Young miss, that's actually—ugh!" My elbow found her ribs before she could ruin the fun.
"Yes, of course," I said brightly, smiling at Amari. "Just don't shake her too much. She's evolving."
Amari's eyes sparkled. "Thank you, Mother!" Then, with sudden worry: "By the way… what happened to the mansion?"
I waved her off. "Oh, that? Just your sister being herself."
Dean finally caught up, his expression flat as stone. "How did you two get here so fast?" I asked.
"We took one of the new airplanes," Dean said.
"Airplane?" I raised an eyebrow.
"Another reincarnation toy. Think of it as… a metal bird that carries soldiers."
I snorted. "Of course." Then I pulled the musket from my belt and handed it to him. "Found this on Dave. By the way, Rebecca—there are six more tied up over there. Take them in."
Rebecca nodded and moved to drag the traitors away.
Dean inspected the musket, his frown deepening. "A musket? You realize what this means, don't you?"
"Mm-hm. That our enemies are arming themselves faster than our patience can handle."
Amari, oblivious, squeezed Kitsuna tighter. "She's sooo soft! Can I take her to the airplane, Mom?"
"Of course, dear. But before you go—hold her still a moment."
"Why?"
"Because I made a promise."
I reached out and touched Kitsuna's head, channeling my memory skill. In a heartbeat, I implanted fragments of my own life into her subconscious. A dream she'd carry, whether she liked it or not.
"There," I whispered, ruffling Amari's hair. "Take her to the plane, sweetheart."
Amari skipped away happily, fox in arms.
Dean stared at me. "Why the hell would you give her your memories?"
I smiled, sharp and humorless. "Because she's my daughter. And because she needs to know who she is."
Then, calmly, I explained the night to him—Kitsuna's awakening, her sin, her carnage.
Dean's face grew paler with every word. Finally, he buried his head in his hands. "So, just to confirm—the 'pet' our daughter is cuddling right now is actually a primordial Sin-holder. Wrath, no less. The second-strongest Sin in existence."
"Correct."
"And you thought it'd be funny to let Amari carry her around like a stuffed toy?"
"Yes."
Dean groaned. "Are you insane!? When she wakes up, she'll go batshit crazy! She'll shred us!"
"Mm." I shrugged, already walking away. "Let that be her punishment. Besides—her reaction will be worth it."
The sound of Dean's despairing groan behind me was music to my ears.