The town of blades and conflict, Kreet. In a room within that town, now seething with anticipation for the Martial Emperor Festival, over ten men had gathered.
Some wore grins. Others bore grim expressions. Still others made no effort to hide their irritation. Ages and appearances varied, but if one were to name their sole common thread, it would be the aura they carried.
A menacing presence, like that of man-eating beasts. The wariness unique to those who had lived never trusting others, surviving by preying on them — even a civilian with no involvement in combat could spot it at a glance.
In truth, every man assembled in that room was a man-eating beast.
The Martial Emperor Festival was a gathering of warriors. And those who gathered were by no means all good people.
Capturing thieves who had absorbed Mana Materials required people of相应实力. In this era, many renowned warriors bore the face of bounty hunters. And there were just as many who held grudges against them.
Secret societies that plotted to overthrow nations driven by their own desires. Bandit groups that primarily attacked merchant caravans crossing the land. Red Hunters who specialized in contract assassination.
Even without personal grudges, killing a renowned warrior earned one prestige. And there were those who would take on acts of revenge for money.
During this period, deaths among participants outside the tournament itself had become something of a seasonal tradition.
That said, it was normally impossible for all these people to converge in one place.
These men who operated in the underworld were, naturally, not allies.
At times, they would fight over profits and even kill each other. During the Martial Emperor Festival, there was an implicit truce — though most of them figured it didn't matter as long as no one found out.
The reason they had managed to evade the nation and the Hunters for so long had its own logic. Moreover, during this period, Kreet was on high alert against intruders.
And yet, these men — who by nature were extremely wary — had been brought together like this, all because the party that had initiated contact was simply too vast.
There was no one who didn't know the name of that organization. And yet, no one who truly knew its true nature.
Lurking in the shadows, opposing every nation and organization over the long centuries, and always surpassing them — the secret society.
Its members, its precise scale, its influence — even its leader was unknown. But behind every major incident or war that could shake a nation, the hand of this organization was always at work. The Emperor of Darkness.
"The Nine-Tailed Shadow Fox."
And these men, who lived in the same world, knew that its reach extended far beyond its reputation.
The "Fox" was a colossal organization. An entity so terrifying that even while making enemies of multiple nations, it never let them catch its tail. Among its members, there were surely many who wielded influence in the world above.
Its power was now equivalent to that of an entire nation. In truth, there were rumors that the organization's origins lay in a country that had once been destroyed.
Therefore, even if the organization was different, none of them could flatly refuse its summons.
Sending subordinates as proxies was out of the question.
Those who lived in the dark could not escape the influence of a greater darkness.
In the midst of a suffocating tension, one of the men finally broke and spoke up.
"So what's going on — the 'Fox' is calling us together? Any of you heard something?"
"Beats me. They gathered people from multiple different organizations. There's got to be a reason."
"A warning, or maybe a job? Not even disclosing the purpose of the meeting — that's the Fox all right, paranoid to the last, but—"
They eyed each other warily, probing. This summoning was quite unusual when considering the Fox's usual methods.
Among those present, some had conducted business with the Fox before. But in normal dealings, it was all done by letter, or at most face-to-face, one on one.
The Fox detested leaving footprints. For warnings or ordinary jobs, one-on-one sufficed.
Bringing this many outside members to one location could only mean there was a significant reason.
In the underworld, reputation mattered. No matter how powerful the other party was, swallowing a blow to one's pride in silence was unthinkable.
But the Fox surely knew that.
So the elderly man who had been sitting deep within the group — an executive of a certain organization — spoke up in a heavy voice.
"This is about the 'Thousand Transformations,' isn't it?"
"!!"
"Those of you here already know, I'm sure. The story about how that man thwarted the Fox's plans."
Just the other day, in the desert nation of Toizant, a meeting had been held.
A Level 8 Hunter had been selected as the Zebuldia Emperor's bodyguard — a memory still fresh in everyone's minds.
And though it wasn't widely public information, anyone who kept their ear to the ground had heard that Thousand Transformations had defended against an assassination attempt on the Emperor.
That the attackers were the Fox.
It was hard to imagine surviving an assault by the Fox, an organization that moved like ghosts and commanded multiple high-level Hunter-class members.
The Zebuldia Empire's knights were said to be a capable bunch, but that alone wouldn't be enough to escape the Fox's clutches. Though detailed information hadn't trickled through, it wasn't hard to imagine that Thousand Transformations had played a role in repelling the attack.
And now, at this Martial Emperor Festival, Thousand Transformations was said to be participating on the Zebuldia Emperor's recommendation.
Factoring it all together, the conclusion was singular.
"Revenge."
The word spoken by one man made the others hold their breath.
The Fox never forgave those who opposed it. Even if the opponent was a Level 8 who had surpassed Ark Rodan himself, they wouldn't stop. It was precisely because they were so relentless that the organization was feared.
Destroying Thousand Transformations — who had thwarted the Fox by protecting the Zebuldia Emperor — at this very Martial Emperor Festival where he would participate under the Emperor's recommendation. There could be no more effective form of revenge.
No one could even imagine how he had survived the Fox's assault. But for Thousand Transformations, this was the end of the line.
No matter how monstrous one was, as long as one remained human, vigilance had its limits. The clan he had founded — Beginning Footprint — was a powerful one, but its scale paled in comparison to the Fox.
Silence once again filled the room.
No one said another word. But their eyes burned with a dark gleam.
One felt his blood stir with the scent of war. Another calculated in an instant what advantages cooperating with the Fox's organization to bring down Thousand Transformations would yield.
And yet another held both terror and excitement at the prospect of avenging fallen comrades.
If the Fox was going to start a war, then there was no question about joining. Thousand Transformations — which had crushed every opponent that stood in its way — was the archenemy of everyone who lived in the underworld.
There was a chance they would be used as pawns, but pawns were a dime a dozen. As long as they played their cards right.
And then, at that moment, the room's sole door swung open.
Trapped heat rushed out through the wide-open doorway.
The one who entered was a slender man wearing a crimson fox mask. His bearing made them involuntarily catch their breath.
A simple garment like a kosode with no excess ornamentation, and a single sword at his waist.
His face was hidden behind the mask, but the flame-like crimson hair cascading from the back of his head was tied behind him — nothing about his attire was particularly imposing. Yet the Mana Material aura quietly emanating from his body was so thick it made the men who had lived in the underworld all this time catch their breath.
It was a face they had never seen. They had heard that the Fox's members were all exceptional fighters, and his public identity was undoubtedly that of a renowned swordsman.
Without sparing a single glance at the countless stares fixed on him, the man strode into the room, looked around at the gathered men, and said, as if it were nothing at all: "Yo, you're all here. I don't really get why, but... go ahead and die."
§ § § "No clue what's going on, but there were a ton of 'em! Quality's decent enough, though — perfect for a warm-up! See, people really are great. Humans are the best."
"Guard detail was stacked, so it'd been a while since I got to stretch my body. Citry-chan seemed unsatisfied with just the encirclement duty, though..."
"Y'know how Mana Material-infused flesh just feels completely different? And the gear they had was pretty sweet too — real contrast!"
"Figures that bad guys would be loaded. Almost everyone was armed with Treasure Weapons—"
"Um... yeah, yeah, that's right."
Riizu and Luke were rambling at me with the intensity of puppies pouncing for attention.
It seemed the Fox Mask Enthusiasts Club (provisional)'s tour had been a resounding hit with Luke and the others.
Luke and Riizu loved violence. And more than killing Phantoms, they preferred fighting Monsters, and more than killing Monsters, they preferred dealing with humans.
It was a disturbing sentiment, but there was a certain fixation that only warriors would understand.
The newspaper had a small blurb in the corner reporting that the Lantern Knight Order had dismantled several criminal organizations.
Luke flashed a wild, feral grin.
"I passed up the good stuff. As long as I get to cut people, I'm good. No problem, right!?"
"Y-yeah, yeah, that's right..."
There were plenty of problems, but I wasn't about to mention them. Luke's nature was pure killer, through and through.
"Look, Kly! Just what they had on them alone — this much!"
"Y-yeah, wow, that's amazing."
Riizu upended the leather bag she was carrying, spilling treasures across the table in front of us.
Shiny gold coins, daggers, rings, bracelets, even handguns. The rings bore large gemstones whose value was impossible to guess. None of them were fakes, of course.
Incidentally, when criminals were apprehended within city limits, all their possessions were confiscated by the state, with a portion later doled out as rewards.
Taking war spoils home directly was tacitly permitted to a degree, but it was technically against the rules. Riizu was a thief to the core, through and through.
One could only imagine the trouble the Lantern Knights must have gone through, carrying out the raid alongside them.
Riizu's eyes sparkled as she reached around from behind me, draping something around my neck.
"Kly, this one's for you! Look at this spoil of war — a necklace made of bone!"
"Ah, thanks..."
I'd rather just accept the sentiment.
Despite being a thief, Riizu had little interest in war spoils themselves — she was interested in the act of stealing. An incurable case.
"RRAAAAGH! Still hungry for more! Let me cut!"
"I'll kill 'em all!"
Luke lunged at Riizu without hesitation. Riizu dodged without hesitation.
It seemed sending them out once hadn't nearly drained their stamina...
As I watched them, exasperated, having already started a sparring match, Citry approached with a tea set and a box on a tray.
"Kly-san, I bought the famous cake!"
I understood why Luke and the others were in high spirits, but Citry was also in the best mood I'd seen from her in ages.
Her expression hadn't changed — still her usual smile — but the light in her eyes was different. I could tell, as her childhood friend. She couldn't contain her emotions.
Citry was almost always calm, so this was quite rare.
"Something good happen?"
"Oh no, nothing like that — let me pour you some tea."
Citry fidgeted as she poured the tea. What on earth had happened?
There was only one cup on the tray.
She was always considerate, but bringing out cake was unusual. More precisely, she only brought it out when something important had come up — it was her trump card, in a way.
This must be Citry's version of a signal.
She quickly arranged the tea set in front of me, then circled behind me without even opening the cake box.
From behind, she placed her cool hands on my neck.
"I'm going to massage your shoulders."
"............"
It was impossible to drink tea while getting a shoulder massage, but I let her anyway. Citry squeezed my shoulders firmly several times, then wrapped her arms around me, hugging me from behind. Just like Riizu. This was different from her usual massages.
Soft warmth pressed against my neck. And then, in a voice like someone drunk on fever, Citry spoke by my ear.
"Kly-san... can I borrow some money?"
"............"
As I sat in silence, Citry finally got to the heart of it.
"In exchange, give me that. The thing. That. Thing. Please? No?"
I'd give her whatever she wanted if I could... but this was scary. What was truly terrifying was that I had absolutely no idea what she was talking about.
Her hands slid across my body as she spoke, and she pressed her lips to the back of my ear. Whether from fear or pleasure, a shiver ran down my spine.
"Hey, when did you get it? How did you get it? You'll give it to me, right?"
"...What are you talking about?"
"That thing. Please, I promise I'll treasure it. Give it to me."
The begging was way over the top. Had I picked something up recently? Something I'd obtained lately... something I'd obtained lately...
And it had to be something that Citry, who was filthy rich, would actually want.
"Wh-what should I do..."
"Are you being stingy? What do I have to do? I'll do anything, Kly-san. Anything. Please don't toy with me. Kon kon."
This was bad. She was clearly having fun, which was great, but I couldn't think of a single thing that Citry would actually want.
Citry, not being clear about what you want is a bad habit of yours. Or what — is it something you can't bring yourself to say out loud?
As I stroked Citry's bare arm while desperately racking my brain, Lucia happened to walk in at the perfect moment.
Lucia shot a glare at the clingy Citry, then looked at me without saying a word.
"...Leader, Gaark and Rosemary are here. What do you want to do?"
"Send them away."
"You can't just do that! Citry, you're in the way! Come on, let's go! Get it together, big brother!"
She swung her staff, physically knocking Citry aside, then forced me to my feet.
I'd forgotten. One problem solved, another arises. A pair with the War Demon and the Abyssal Flame — was this hell? Were they even free?
If they were going to chase after me, there was no point in running from the bathroom. Read the room.
"I don't want to. I don't want to see them. What a pain. I'm busy."
"Stop being such a brat! Come on, get moving! Busy, my foot. What's so busy about flirting with Citry?"
Was there even a point in asking "what do you want to do"?
Citry followed along, fidgeting with her hands. Luke and Riizu, who had been playing around with the fox masks they'd apparently been given, trailed behind without a word.
And so, like a condemned man heading to the gallows, I was marched before those monsters.