"Commander, why didn't you tell me that my new superior will be your daughter?" Brenda said, shaking my hand firmly. Her grip was strong, rough from training, but I could feel the hesitation behind it—like she was trying to measure me up while still showing respect.
Dean crossed his arms, his tone edging toward irritation. "I was going to, but you interrupted me."
I smirked, watching his expression tighten. "Dean, you sound like a pushover sometimes."
Mom let out a soft laugh in response, while Dean gave me a look that was part glare and part surrender.
"It's not like that. I just care about what my soldiers want to say," Dean said, his voice defensive.
I tilted my head, letting my golden eyes rest on him just a little too long. "Mmhm. If you say so."
Brenda arched an eyebrow, as if already enjoying how easily I poked at him. "You really do sound like a pushover, sir."
Dean sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I don't need two of you ganging up on me."
"Don't tempt me," I said under my breath, making Mom chuckle louder. Then, speaking more loudly, I added: "Anyway, I wasn't here to tease Dean." I actually had something to ask. Dean, can you please teach me about tactics and planning?"
He blinked, clearly caught off guard. "Huh? Your mother can do that too, you know."
"I know," I said quickly, shrugging, "but she isn't the best at explaining things."
Mom narrowed her eyes at me playfully, like she wanted to swat me but couldn't argue.
Dean rubbed his jaw, considering. "I see… that makes sense. We can do that, but I am a bit busy at the moment. We can start tomorrow."
"That's fine. I was planning to get acquainted with my new squad anyway," I said, flicking my gaze to the three watching us.
Dean nodded. "Alright. I'll finalize the paperwork then. Before I forget—you know about the reincarnation meeting that should have been at the end of this week?"
"Yes. If I remember, it was supposed to happen here at the Draigs mansion. What about it?" I asked, arching a brow.
"Yes, it would have, but Hugo canceled it. We moved it up to the banquet at the end of the month."
I let out a sharp exhale. "That damn furry."
"What is a furry?" Dean and Brenda asked at the same time.
I glanced between them, lips twitching. "Umm, how to explain this… It's what we call people who dress up like humanoid animals with a lot of fur on them. They end up looking more like an animal than a humanoid—like me, though. If you are wondering whether it is meant as a compliment, it is not.
Brenda tilted her head. "I thought all demi-humans see them as kings?"
I blinked slowly, then arched an eyebrow at her. "Huh, are you crazy? Do you think a demon fox will bow down to something like that?"
Her lips parted, and then she nodded sheepishly. "So no?"
"Yes, no," I said firmly. "It's only the demi-humans who don't have the self-confidence who would bow down to them."
Brenda frowned, clearly chewing on my words. "Is that true?" she asked, turning toward Apricot.
"Yes. It is mostly the demi-humans who can't defend themselves. For example, mouse-demis would follow them without question," Apricot explained, her voice calm but clipped.
"Ooh. Sorry, it seems I have been misinterpreting their existence, ma'am," Brenda said, bowing her head.
I waved a hand. "It's fine. Now come. Let's go and have a talk."
[Outside the mansion]
The air shifted the moment I stepped out, fresher, tinged with the faint sweetness of the garden blooms. I looked at Brenda again, my eyes catching on the massive sword strapped to her back. It was difficult not to. "I thought you were a samurai," I said, pointing at the blade.
"That is right, ma'am. "I'm just better with bigger katanas than with the smaller ones," she said, affectionately brushing the hilt with one hand.
I stared at the blade. Wide. Long. Brutal-looking. 'I don't think a forty-centimeter-wide, one-point-eight-meter-long slab of steel qualifies as a katana.' I shook my head internally.
"I see. You'll have to show it to me later. Let's head to the garden to talk."
"Yes, ma'am," all three said in unison, following me.
I stopped in my tracks, my tail twitching. I turned, narrowing my eyes with a sharp grin. "If you guys call me ma'am one more time, I'll pull out your vocal cords."
They stiffened, pale, then swallowed nervously. "We will remember that… "Kitsuna," they said in unison, their voices tight.
"Better," I muttered, starting to walk again.
I noticed Apricot adjusting her eyes as we moved. "Hey, Apricot, why are you wearing your contacts again?"
"Your mother said I should wear them so that no one finds out about my situation."
"That sounds about right. I'll let Luna know to make you some blindfolds for your eyes," I said casually.
"Is there something special about her eyes?" Brenda asked.
"Yeah. You'll see later." I let the mystery hang there, not explaining.
We reached the garden, the grass soft beneath my boots. I picked a patch and sat down, patting the ground beside me. "Sit down."
Apricot obeyed immediately, folding her legs neatly. The other two hesitated before lowering themselves onto the grass. Their hesitation didn't go unnoticed.
"Okay," I said, crossing my legs. "Now that everyone is here, we can do a proper introduction. Name, position in squad, class, and weapon preference. I'll start."
I took a deep breath while scanning my eyes over the group. "My name is Kitsuna Draig. I'll be the commander of this squad. I'm only thirteen years old, almost fourteen, and level thirty, so I don't have a class yet. I'm a speed-type, and I don't have a weapon preference."
Apricot's head snapped toward me, eyes wide. "You're only thirteen? And you don't have a class?"
"Yes," I said, lips curving faintly, "and I'm not planning to get one in the near future."
Brenda frowned. "What do you mean you don't have a weapon preference?"
"I use many different weapons in combat," I explained.
She tilted her head. "Is there a certain class you are going for then?"
"There is," I said, letting my smile sharpen. "But that'll stay a secret for now."
Brenda shrugged, still looking curious. "Okay. I guess it's my turn."
"Un," I said, leaning back slightly.
"My name is Brenda, no surname. I'm a major in the Black Ops army. I'm a samurai, level eight hundred thirty-four. I'm a strength-type, and I use a bigger-than-normal katana for combat." She tapped her massive sword as if to emphasize the point.
"Can I see your sword, if you don't mind?" I asked, standing.
She blinked, surprised, but handed it over.
I stepped a few paces away, letting the blade settle into my grip. Then I swung. Once. Twice. Again. The steel cut the air with a deep hum, surprisingly light in my hands.
"This object is much lighter than I expected it to be," I said, returning it before sitting down again.
Brenda stared. "I'm surprised you could swing it that many times."
"It's the same weight as my ice war hammer, so it was easy to swing around," I said, summoning one in my hand to show her.
Sirone blinked, leaning forward. "Huh? How did you make that weapon appear?"
"It's one of my abilities. I can create weapons out of my ice magic."
Apricot smiled faintly. "That explains why you don't have a weapon preference. You can just make your own anytime."
"Yes, that's good and all," I said, letting the war hammer dissolve into mist, "but I'm useless in a mid- and long-range fight. For the moment."
Brenda frowned. "I see, but that still doesn't explain why you could swing my blade like that."
"My strength sits at seven hundred ninety-five right now."
Her eyes widened. "What a prodigy."
Sirone echoed, awed. "Truly."
"Not really. Most reincarnations should be able to do that," I said, shrugging.
"Seriously?" Brenda asked, her voice tight with unease.
"Yeah," I said, my tone flattening, "but you don't have to worry too much about it for now. Sirone, you're next."
The girl sat straighter, nervous. "Okay. My name is Sirone. I am Brenda's little sister. I am a five hundred sixty-nine-level healing sage. I have no experience in weaponry."
I tilted my head. "Yeah, we'll change that. You can't go into a fight without any way to protect yourself."
"But she is a healer," Brenda protested.
I gave her a sharp look, lips curving in a cold grin. "I'm not going to have a healer on my team that can't protect themselves. I'd rather send my team on missions without one."
Brenda's mouth opened, but no words came.
"Don't worry," I added casually, "I'll get her a gun or something so she can attack from range. And new combat clothes. I can't have her looking like a healer, making her a target."
"But she looks so cute in her healing robes," Brenda muttered, pouting.
"You think I look cute?" Sirone mumbled, her cheeks pink.
"Of course. You look adorable in your healing robes," Brenda said, smiling brightly.
Sirone turned her face away, flustered.
I cut in, tone dry. "Okay, can we move on? Apricot, your turn. And tell them everything."
Apricot hesitated, then bowed her head slightly. "My name is Apricot. I am a slave of Kitsuna. The reason why is because I am an ex-federation soldier. I am not planning on betraying you, as the federation abused me and did things to me I will never forgive. I am level four hundred sixty-three, a Puppeteer with Illusionist's eyes. As a puppeteer, I don't specialize in any weapon, but I can use wires to a good extent."
Brenda snorted. "Pfff, yeah right, I bet—" Her words cut off with a sharp gasp.
An ice sword was pressed against her throat. I smiled thinly. "Look at her right ear."
Brenda hesitated, then glanced. Her eyes widened at the half-cut ear, and Apricot lowered her gaze in shame.
"That is only the surface damage you can see," I said softly, withdrawing the blade. "There is a lot more. And remember this: I might be friendly and easy-going, but I am not naive."
The air grew heavier.
"You forgot to add crazy," Apricot said suddenly, arms crossing.
Brenda gasped.
"Are you sure I did?" I asked, grinning.
"Would a sane person force someone to take a bath in ice after knowing them for only a few seconds?" Apricot shot back, glaring.
I tilted my head, amused. "What? You were dirty. I just wanted you clean."
"You didn't have to throw me in."
"I did warn you," I said, smirking.
"A second before you dropped me in does not count as a warning," she snapped.
I laughed softly.
Sirone tilted her head, smiling despite the tension. "You guys don't seem to hate each other, even though you're her slave."
"Un. Of course not. What isn't there to like about me?" I asked, grinning.
"I can name quite a few," Apricot muttered.
I ignored her. "Back to more important things. We start training tomorrow. And before you complain about your levels, it won't help you. Levels won't matter in my training."
Brenda groaned under her breath. "We're screwed."
I leaned back on the grass, staring at the sky. "Maybe. Or maybe you'll survive long enough to surprise me."
Their silence told me they weren't sure if I was joking. Neither was I.