The essence of the Art of Subjugation was to strike with a stick and then offer a sweet date—in other words, a balance of punishment and reward. Every noble knew this method, but for the fox god, it opened the door to a new world.
He saw that peasants disciplined by nobles did not resist but became more loyal. This astonished him.
Previously, the fox god had worked diligently every day. But after witnessing the Art of Subjugation, he had an idea. He began using it on his own followers. Those who worshipped him received bountiful harvests; those who did not, received none.
Thus, the prosperous respected him more, and even those who had not trusted him began to worship. The Harvest Shrine's incense grew stronger.
At this stage, things were still somewhat normal—just a god using tricks to gain faith. But soon, a subtle change occurred, brought by a yokai.
One day, yokai entered the village. At first, they stole animals, but soon they began eating humans. The villagers begged the fox god for help. He obliged, killing one yokai.
At that moment, he noticed the villagers' faith grew stronger. Another door opened for him.
He began actively fighting yokai. But as he did, villagers' faith waned. Whether they worshipped him or not, he fought yokai anyway.
The fox god realized this and grew troubled. "I fight yokai, yet your faith does not grow. Am I not working hard enough?"
Once, while fighting a yokai, the creature asked: "Why do you fight us so eagerly? What benefit is there for you?"
The fox god replied: "If I kill you, people will worship me."
But the yokai said: "Fool. If we are gone, there will be no threat. Without threats, will villagers still worship you?"
The fox god doubted, but the yokai proposed an experiment. "Tell the villagers all yokai are dead. We will not attack. See if their faith remains."
Hesitant, the fox god agreed. He told the villagers the yokai were slain. They cheered and held a grand celebration. The fox god thought the yokai wrong.
But after a month without threats, villagers' faith weakened. After two months, it dropped sharply. The fox god realized the yokai was right.
Humans were forgetful. Without external threats, they might forget their god.
So he sought the yokai's advice. The yokai said: "If you want humans to worship you, don't let them live too comfortably. Without disasters, they won't pray."
This awakened the fox god again. From then, the diligent fox god fell, becoming greedy and self-serving.
He colluded with yokai, staging attacks. Yokai would assault villagers, then he would drive them away, protecting the people. Though villagers died, he gained faith. Yokai got food, gods got worship. Only humans suffered.
He even created famines, ensuring crops failed every few years. When asked why, he feigned sorrow: "My divine power is insufficient. I cannot protect you. I'm sorry." The people worshipped him more, and he harvested faith.
He didn't care how many humans died. To him, humans were like crops—always sprouting again. Endless, inexhaustible.
Thus, he harvested wave after wave of faith, living well for a time.
But as technology advanced, people became self-sufficient. They no longer needed gods. The fox god's end approached.
Forgotten, his shrine abandoned. Normally, a god born of faith would perish without worship. But he survived, sustained by the faith he had hoarded, lingering into the present.
Still, the shrine was abandoned, the Harvest Shrine forgotten. In time, he would fade like other gods.
Unwilling to die, he schemed. He lured Mai, who had run away from home, and tricked her. He stole her presence, hoping to replace her and continue living.
But fate had other plans. Mai met Shuuichi, who explained her plight, and then Kael. With Kael's help, she found Yato. The fox god was struck down by Yato and killed by Kael.
It was ironic. Perhaps his fate was sealed the moment he deceived villagers and colluded with yokai.
That was why Kael told Mai such a god deserved death.
This was Japan. In the myths of the great eastern land, gods who colluded with yokai would have been destroyed by heavenly soldiers long ago. Even if not, people would have overthrown them, smashing their shrines to rubble.
Why? For one reason only: The land of China does not keep idle gods.