The Red Sword Saint
The iron door creaks open with a grating screech. As the interior gradually comes into view, a rich, sweet aroma drifts straight to her nose. The fox instinctively stiffens her tail. The source of the scent is—
"It's so good!"
"So fluffy…!"
A gentle sweetness lingered in the air. In the quaintly decorated space, familiar children sat together at an antique dining table. They were the young foxes Irene had entrusted to this place.
"It melts in your mouth…"
"I could eat Teacher's pies every day!"
"Mmm…!"
"It's as delicious as the Leader's cooking!"
The children chatted and laughed among themselves, each nibbling on the pie in their bowls. That must have been where the intense sweetness came from. Their faces were the picture of pure happiness. Every time they lifted a fork to their mouths, their tails swayed with delight. It was a scene that warmed the heart.
"……?"
A question mark floated above the girl's head as she watched. The sight was completely unexpected. The tension that had felt ready to snap melted away into nothing.
"It seems we arrived just in time for snack hour."
A sudden voice made her turn. There stood the golden snake, smiling brightly.
"Snack hour…?"
"It's something I ordered. In addition to regular meals, I've arranged for snacks three times a day."
"W-wait, three times? Isn't that a bit much?"
"When they're young, eating well and growing properly is what matters most."
The boy nodded with confidence.
"Rest assured. Our chef here is skilled enough to impress even me."
She had known the basement was spacious, but a dedicated chef as well? It was starting to feel like a proper facility. The boy continued with a pleased expression.
"We manage nutrition, constitutions, and eating habits alike, so you needn't worry about your younger siblings' health."
"……"
Irene listened in a daze, her black eyes still bright. Only a gentle smile appeared in her vision. It was a confusing feeling. Everything she had imagined moments ago was so different from this.
'This is strange.'
Only then did the finer details of the scene begin to register. Expensive furnishings, a soft carpet, and plenty of toys rolling about. Everything showed careful consideration for the children. She hadn't expected such thoughtfulness. It made her feel foolish for having doubted the basement in the first place.
The children were doing well. The fox quietly watched over her younger siblings.
"……Big Sister Irene?"
While she stood there, one of the children met her eyes. That single phrase quickly spread through the room.
"What? Big Sister's here?"
"Where?"
"Right there! How could you miss her standing by the door?"
"Oh, you're right!"
"The Leader came with her too!"
One by one, gazes gathered on her. Irene smiled awkwardly.
"It's been a while, everyone."
The children's faces lit up. Setting down their snacks, they rushed toward the girl. Warm little bodies filled her arms.
"Big Sister! I missed you…!"
"You came to see us, right? We were waiting!"
"It's been forever!"
"Where have you been all this time?"
They chattered excitedly. As she accepted their enthusiastic welcome, a smile bloomed on the usually curt girl's lips.
"I missed you too."
She spread her arms and pulled her siblings close. Though Irene was normally sharp-tongued and fierce, in this moment she softened without reservation. Her mouth curved into a bright, innocent arc. It was a side of her that might have seemed unfamiliar.
"……"
It was a deeply tender scene. The golden-haired boy watched from a step behind. The foxes' reunion was beautiful. He had no desire to interrupt it.
"Please enjoy yourselves."
He murmured softly. Then the snake turned and walked away, his quiet footsteps leaving only faint traces behind.
Slipping away unnoticed, he left the foxes to their reunion in the other room. Yuda sat at the work desk. A faint mutter escaped his lips.
"It's been a while."
Indeed. When was the last time he had sat here? He had gone to the trouble of labeling it the "Leader's Office," yet he rarely spent his days in this room. The memories felt hazy.
Shaking off idle thoughts, he looked at the silver-haired girl standing before him. She carried the air of winter itself. Astro's vice-leader, Neria Lightni.
"You called for me."
She stood with perfect posture, her eyes devoid of even a spark of life. It was like looking at an empty shell—or a doll bound by strings.
Well, then.
"There's something I'd like you to do."
"If it's your order, I will gladly carry out anything."
He had other business at the moment. Setting her immediate reply aside, he slowly began.
"There have been rumors circulating lately."
"Rumors, you say?"
"About the cultists… the movements of the Demon God worshippers. I believe you've heard the reports."
"Yes. They've been trickling in for several months now."
"As expected."
So they were finally starting to move. Given the original story's timeline, their appearance wasn't surprising. If anything, they were a little late.
"What about the other side?"
"There are whispers that two major figures from the underworld have joined forces. Their reasons remain unknown."
"The slave trader… and the Lord, I presume."
"Correct."
"Everything's proceeding according to the original plot."
The Baobab Tree, the Merchant, and the King—antagonistic factions from the original story. So far, nothing had deviated. They were still following the original narrative.
"Continue gathering information as you have been."
"Understood."
"Increase the patrol personnel as a precaution… Ah, and one more thing."
A thought occurred to him. He curved his lips into a meaningful smile and met her silver eyes directly. His voice was cool.
"There was an incident today. Some people were collecting tolls at the crossroads."
"……!"
"Was management neglected?"
"I-I apologize. I will correct it immediately."
"This was a task I entrusted to you. If a mistake occurred… how should I interpret that?"
"It will never happen again."
Neria's composure cracked visibly. The cold mask she wore moments ago was gone, replaced by a crumbling, anxious reaction. Why was she so frightened? He had only been expressing concern.
During the six months he had been absent, Neria had handled Astro's operations and overseen the city as its acting leader. How could he possibly scold someone so capable? He was simply worried because she had made an uncharacteristic mistake.
"I trusted our vice-leader, after all."
"P-please, Master, d-don't abandon me…"
"Now, now… How could I ever cast aside our capable Miss Neria?"
If you left, this organization would collapse. You handle thirty percent of the work single-handedly.
"I simply meant that you should try a little harder."
"……Yes, Master."
Had his words discouraged her? The girl lowered her head. Deciding she needed reassurance, he rose from his seat.
"Rest easy."
"……?!"
He gently stroked her silver hair, careful not to disturb it. Neria froze in confusion for a moment before stiffening in place. Even so, her shoulders trembled.
"Hic, hnng…"
Each time his fingers brushed her soft strands, a pitiful sound escaped her. She must have been under a lot of strain. She was even on the verge of tears.
"I won't abandon you."
Headpats really were the most effective form of comfort. Little by little, the girl began to relax. He continued offering encouragement for a while longer.
***
Meanwhile, Irene, surrounded by the young foxes, was being pulled in every direction. The children had clearly missed her. A lively atmosphere unique to the little ones filled the basement for some time.
"Haa…"
After the whirlwind of activity, Irene sat in a corner to rest. The young foxes showed no signs of tiring, playing among themselves. They ate well, slept well, and laughed often. Thanks to their balanced lifestyle, the children radiated a healthy glow she had never seen before. It was nothing like when they had been trapped in cramped iron cages.
'Thank goodness.'
They seemed to be doing well. A belated sense of relief washed over her, and a faint smile spread across her lips.
'I was so worried… He really was helping them with everything he had.'
The sly-looking narrowed eyes now seemed different. Though the fox had once sworn never to trust humans again, gratitude was still gratitude.
She mulled over her thoughts about the boy. Just then—
"So you're the guest the Leader brought in."
"……?"
A gruff voice reached her ears. Turning around, she saw red hair. It belonged to a middle-aged man with a sturdy build and a subtle, imposing presence.
"I've been wanting to meet you for some time."
"Uh… yes?"
"I suppose I should introduce myself first."
He laughed at Irene's wary reaction. With a hearty nod, the man placed a fist over his chest.
"Kyle Stroban. I'm the chef here, and I also supervise the children."
"Ah."
This was the person the boy had mentioned so confidently. He was also their teacher. Faced with the man who was essentially caring for the children, Irene quickly offered a greeting.
"My name is Irene Foxis."
"Haha! I've heard plenty about you from the children."
After a brief exchange, the fox finally took a proper look at his face. Intense red hair, blood-red eyes, forearms corded with muscle from years of sword training, and a sturdy physique to match. A cross-shaped scar marked his cheek. The aura he gave off was chillingly calm.
'……Where did this monster come from?'
A cold sweat ran down her back. The members she had encountered earlier had all been formidable, but standing before this man made them seem ordinary by comparison. She had thought she had seen plenty of monsters in the slums, yet—
'What the hell…'
Something was off. Had he been hiding his presence until now? His existence grew more distinct by the second. Even the professors of Galimar, hailed as the continent's strongest, would be effortlessly crushed by this level of power.
'This is impossible.'
His strength defied comprehension. And he was supposedly just a chef. As she began to feel that something was wrong—
'He looks familiar…?'
A sudden sense of déjà vu struck her. The vivid red hair, sturdy build, and cross-shaped scar on his cheek. She knew this person. Her teacher's words, which she had heard countless times, echoed in her ears.
—Irene, remember this man in the portrait well.
—If you wish to walk the path of the sword, he is a sky you must one day surpass.
—He is the only one in the continent's history to have touched the stars.
The forgotten scene played vividly in her mind. Her teacher had often held up the portrait, proudly recounting the man's achievements. The young man with red hair in the painting was smiling.
The name written beneath it was—
'Kyle Stroban.'
Though many years had passed, an unmistakable familiarity remained. Irene murmured in a daze.
"……The Red Sword Saint?"
The weapon once hailed as humanity's strongest. The most brilliant legacy of a bygone era, whose unprecedented power had filled countless pages of history. The Sword Saint smiled sheepishly.
"I didn't think you'd recognize me… Haha! How embarrassing."
It was a clear confirmation.
"That can't be…"
Irene muttered blankly. Why would someone once called the continent's pinnacle be part of a criminal organization? At first glance, it sounded like a lament, but the truth was far more fundamental.
"You were clearly…"
Shock, confusion, and doubt. The fox's astonishment stemmed from something far more basic. She spoke in a trance.
"……I heard you died in an accident two years ago."
Kyle Stroban. Also known as the "Red Sword Saint" or the "Fallen Star." A hero who had slain countless warlocks and greatly contributed to the continent's peace. He had been a symbol of the empire for the past twenty years. And according to official records—deceased.
"……"
"I'm just an ordinary chef now."
A hearty laugh rang out. Irene was facing a ghost who should not have been alive.
"Haha! This too is a grace granted by the Leader."
"What…?"
"Thanks to him, I was able to survive."
The Leader was mentioned once more. The Sword Saint offered a brief prayer, his expression filled with deep reverence. It was the same look she had seen on the other members. The fox stared at the scene, frozen.
'The slums, a criminal organization, a basement, fanatics… and now the empire's missing hero.'
Just how far did his reach extend? A sticky sense of dread crept up her neck. The girl swallowed dryly as she thought of the mastermind behind it all.