This time, Kikikan was done for sure. As she walked through the bustle of Imperial Capital Zebuldia, the little fox let out a sigh brimming with emotion.
The truth was, for a foolish human to have bested a divine fox in a contest of wits, even for an instant, was a fundamental mistake from the very start. Because of that, Kikikan held no respect for the little fox, and had even gone so far as to send her messages by email as though they were friends.
But that relationship would be thoroughly corrected by the results of this latest contest.
She had to admire her own handiwork, even as the thought crossed her mind.
She had given "Cursed Object" back completely. In the most brilliantly devised method yet—by foisting upon him the worst of the worst cursed artifacts held within the [Wandering Lodgings].
The contracts formed within the [Wandering Lodgings] were fair to both parties. The terms of the contract made with intruders varied from case to case, but as Kikikan's own experience proved, sometimes the [Wandering Lodgings] itself ended up at a loss.
It had apparently been something taken from an intruder as the result of a contract in the past.
The little fox didn't know the details, but when the elder fox had seen the palm-sized wooden box she'd happened to pick up, he had grimaced and spoken.
—"Ah, don't open that box. Of all the curses I know of, it is the saddest and most beautiful. The target isn't a Phantom, but—Mother said she wished it had never been taken. It should exist outside this world, she said. Because it brings calamity. Human emotions are terrifying, beautiful, foolish, and precious."
Indeed, even from the outside alone, the box clearly harbored a terrible power.
As the elder fox had said, it probably wasn't a curse that fell upon Phantoms. It wasn't in an active state, but if released into the world, it would likely be beyond anyone's ability to control. While it had been smoldering within the [Wandering Lodgings] with no target to direct its emotional resonance toward, that power had only grown more concentrated.
Even someone as lacking in crisis awareness as that human would surely feel a chill of dread upon seeing this box.
Just imagining his panicked expression was enough to settle all her grievances. He would surely apologize to the little fox for all the times he'd failed to show proper respect. He would apologize, then come begging her to do something about it. And she would turn him down flat.
She would make him say "You win." She would make him grovel and offer up fried tofu as tribute.
At the Martial Emperor Festival, she'd been treated miserably. He hadn't even noticed that the little fox had let the enemy escape at the end. That would never serve as proper punishment.
By contrast, this plan was perfect. She had double-checked every detail, and had even subtly pushed the terrifying cursed artifact onto a man named Hugh—who had been searching for cursed objects on Kikikan's orders. Any fool who heard the message would realize it was the little fox's doing. And they would also realize that because Kikikan had underestimated a divine fox's kin, a terrible calamity had befallen the Imperial Capital.
This was the work of the demon fox, feared for bringing disaster upon those who opposed her.
This would be the final battle. The elder fox had scolded her for being too deeply involved. As a divine fox's kin, frequent entanglement with a single human was hardly appropriate.
Suddenly, the air changed. The humans didn't notice, but the little fox knew that "it" had begun.
A jewel with a tragic provenance. The most heinous curse in the human world, born of the Spiritfolk bloodline passed down through the ages.
The seed of catastrophe, hidden for so long within the [Wandering Lodgings] and thus erased from public knowledge, had now sprouted.
The air had grown damp. She looked toward the Clan House where Kikikan was. Dark clouds swirled above it.
It seemed the box had been opened without incident. The spreading curse would blanket the Imperial Capital in the blink of an eye, bringing calamity upon millions of people.
As far as the little fox knew, Kikikan possessed nothing—not even crisis awareness, let alone anything else. But even if he were hiding his power, it would be impossible to fully protect the populace from a curse spreading over such a wide area. In truth, it would be quite difficult even if the little fox herself tried her best.
She would watch how that senseless human stood against a power beyond human comprehension.
Satisfied that events were proceeding exactly as planned, the little fox suddenly noticed something odd.
"...? The clouds... aren't... spreading...?"
The little fox could tell. The dark clouds rising above the Clan House were undoubtedly the curse manifest from the box.
But according to the legend passed down to humans, the dark clouds should have engulfed the entire country within minutes. Yet they spread no further, lingering above the Clan House.
The swirling force grew denser by the moment as she watched. In terms of concentration alone, it was a miasma more potent than even the interior of the [Wandering Lodgings].
The curse's target was humanity and human society as a whole. This great metropolis of Zebuldia should have been the perfect target.
Impossible. That jewel's curse had long since forgotten even its own form, becoming an amorphous and devastating phenomenon that indiscriminately cursed everything in its path. It should have tried to engulf as many humans as possible.
Humans couldn't control a curse, and this wasn't something that could be purified.
She had been wrong to move away from the Clan House, wanting to observe the victory from a high vantage. She didn't know what was happening, but going to investigate would mean admitting defeat.
She couldn't help but rub her eyes, staring intently at the clouds. Before her, the swirling clouds writhed like serpents, then vanished as though sucked into the Clan House.
Yes, as though—being absorbed.
--- Picking up the ornately carved box that had been hurled to the floor, he opened it cautiously.
What emerged from within was black smoke, evoking a sky torn by thunderstorms. The billowing smoke showed no sign of stopping; upon reaching the ceiling, it poured outward through the shattered windows of the lounge.
The force of it was like the waterfall Luke used during training—an absurd sight that left him with nothing to do but laugh.
Was it a treasure chest, maybe?
Tinno, standing pale and frozen, let out a raspy voice.
"W-what... what are you—doing, Mastaa...?"
"Huh!?"
...She had looked at him with those eyes as if to say "I'm so sorry if the contents got broken, Mastaa," so he'd only opened it to check and reassure her...
In truth, he hadn't really understood the situation at all. He only remembered Hugh—something—after Tinno had reminded him, but he didn't know why the man was unconscious, why they'd come here, or what the box they'd brought even contained. He might have looked calm, being accustomed to situations like this, but he was actually quite bewildered.
The smoke looked ominous from its appearance. More a haze than smoke, perhaps. Even smoke from a fire was bad to inhale, and who knew what would happen if you bathed in something that came out of a strange box like this.
Tinno approached on unsteady legs.
"M-Mastaa... outside... it's getting bad—"
"There now, stay calm... just stay calm..."
Ventilation... ventilation was important, after all... Maybe it would be better to let it escape outside rather than filling the lounge... but honestly, there was nothing he could do.
He watched the box as it continued to spew its ominous-looking smoke. How had so much smoke fit inside such a small box? It didn't seem like a Treasure Weapon, but then—just then, he caught a glint of red light through the smoke inside the box.
A gemstone. A fairly large one. He had Barrier Rings, so he reached into the box to pull it out, but at that moment, his body was suddenly yanked backward.
Off-balance, the box tumbled from his hands. The carpet that had been draped over him like a cape had pulled him back. Almost simultaneously with understanding what had knocked him off balance, he realized that the smoke had surged toward the spot where he'd been standing.
"T-Tinno!"
Tinno screamed and retreated.
The smoke that had exited through the broken windows was flowing back into the Clan House. As though it possessed a will of its own.
Its force was incomparable to when it had first erupted from the box—a torrential surge. If caught unprotected, it would surely have been fatal.
Could it be... Gaark, did you save me?!
Though honestly, the theory that he himself had wanted to escape was probably stronger... Could that cold attitude of his have been a bluff?
"M-Mastaa... this is..."
The returning black smoke converged into a single point. It was a beautiful yet terrifying sight, something that didn't seem to belong to this world.
Even he, who had seen plenty of dangerous things, couldn't help but take a step back. Tinno, with her sharper senses, must have perceived the threat before her even more clearly. She had taken a fighting stance, but her teeth were chattering.
Why had it come back after leaving the Clan House once? It didn't need to come back...
The gathered smoke increased in density and took shape. It bore an uncanny resemblance to the unsealing of "Marin's Lament" he'd witnessed just the other day.
But this time, there was no layered barrier magic circle.
The black smoke was no longer smoke. The condensed smoke clearly formed a humanoid shape, and then darkness dripped down from it like liquid.
What emerged was a girl with her eyes closed. The same pattern as Marin's Lament, but this time the girl who appeared was far less degraded, and—she was not human.
Pointed ears and an ethereal beauty that seemed almost artificial—a Spiritfolk woman.
She wore a robe like those worn by Mages, but the pendant around her neck was strikingly prominent.
A deep red—a crimson jewel the color of blood, glowing with an eerie radiance. Staring at it made it hard to breathe.
Come to think of it, he'd been told that Spiritfolk curses were stronger...
She was clearly not alive. Her feet didn't touch the ground, and her aura was far too different from that of a living creature.
Calm down, Klai Andrich. Tinno was here too. As the Clan Master, he couldn't afford to look pathetic.
What should he... what should he do? Run? Ask for help? From whom? Of all times, he'd gone and returned the Resonance Stone to Franz.
...Negotiate. In the end, Monsters, Phantoms, curses—none of it was anything he could deal with. He'd go with love and peace. Hadn't he always gotten through trouble with a combination of groveling and friendly negotiation?
Even with Spiritfolk, who were notoriously difficult to get along with, there had to be good ones. Krus—he was pretty sure it was either Krus or Elisa.
He raised his right hand and approached the mysterious Spiritfolk woman with a friendly smile—when her eyes flew open.
Gleaming pupils. His muscles froze, and his body wouldn't move. He felt like a frog pinned by a serpent's gaze.
He wasn't afraid—or maybe it was his soul itself that feared her.
Those eyes turned toward him, though she wasn't really looking at him. He followed the direction of her gaze.
What she was fixated on was the ring. On the index finger of his raised right hand—a wooden ring. A cursed Treasure Weapon said to attract curses. Come to think of it, the engravings on the ring and the pattern on the box did seem somewhat similar.
It was hatred. What lay behind those eyes was an overflowing hatred. Her features were refined; her expression wasn't contorted, which made the intensity of her emotion all the more apparent.
He tried to pull the ring off in a panic, but it wouldn't budge. While he struggled, the mysterious Spiritfolk woman extended her arm. As though guided by that arm, countless black spear-like objects shot out from behind her.
The speed wasn't that fast. But there was no way he could dodge.
Gaark, wrapped around him, leaped backward, pulling him along. The countless black spears—they were more like kelp, writhing as they flew—barely grazed his body, deflected by the Barrier Rings.
If you're going to pull me, do it sooner, Gaark...
Well, if he hadn't been wrapped around him like a cape, he probably would have fled alone. Lucky.
Perhaps because Gaark had pulled him, his body—frozen as though paralyzed—returned to normal. Staggering along on Gaark's momentum, more of the kelp-like tendrils scraped against his Barrier Rings, shaving one away.
No good—at this rate, the Barrier Rings would be gone and he'd die. Someone help—then he noticed.
That's right, the Luminous Spirit Church! If he could somehow make it to the Luminous Spirit Church, they would surely handle this! Anthem was there!
Gaark looked like he could fly right now, if need be. Fortunately, the lounge's glass was already broken, and he could probably take a few more hits.
He was in luck today. He hurried over to Tinno, who stood with a pale expression, and took her hand.
He couldn't leave the helpless Tinno behind. As for Hugh... well, he was an unavoidable sacrifice. If he made it back alive, he'd demand answers about why the man had brought such a bizarre thing.
"Tinno, let's go!"
"M-Mastaa—"
He sprinted toward the shattered glass. Moving his body again after a while felt invigorating.
Countless spears rushed at him as Gaark elegantly dodged each one. The spears he swung around stabbed directly at his head—not a single one missed—but all were deflected by the Barrier Rings.
Fortunately, none had hit Tinno, but—was he doing that on purpose? It didn't hurt, but it was absolutely terrifying.
At the Spiritfolk woman's feet, the tiled floor he'd just repaired was being consumed by darkness, crumbling into mush. He wanted to bill her for repairs.
The black kelp pursued him by slithering along the ground. It seemed the body condensed from darkness could freely produce and retract darkness at will. Kind of cool, honestly.
But there was no time for such thoughts. Steeling his resolve, he grabbed Tinno's hand and leaped out the window with all his might.
"Fly, Gaark!"
Now was the time to show his true power.
He felt gravity across his entire body. Gaark, draped over him, responded to his command and billowed upward.
The knot at his neck came undone and his vision flipped. He plunged headfirst from the Clan House with Tinno's hand still in his—then, just in time, Tinno grabbed the edge of the carpet and soared high into the sky.
...If it had been the other way around, his arm would have hurt and he'd have let go for sure. Nice one, Tinno!