Seol, No Longer Emergency Rations
Taking down the buffalo herd was, of course, ridiculously easy.
Keeping them as clean as possible for the fox to eat proved far more challenging.
I started by using a water magic spell to neatly slice their throats.
"Kyuuung—! Kyung kyung—!!!"
The fox, now free from my head, darted excitedly through the snowfield amid the fallen buffalo herd.
Where had that frantic little thing gone—the one who'd been pounding my head moments ago, warning of danger?
Truly a quick adapter.
So, can she eat the meat?
In case she couldn't stomach it, I'd spared three suitable buffalo.
Females, naturally.
They're cows, after all. Should produce milk.
If not... well, the yetis would have to do.
The fox scampered about the herd, snuffling now and then with a 'kyung kyung,' before plopping down in front of one.
She buried her muzzle right in.
...She's eating meat. And she's still just a pup...
Monsters were monsters, after all.
No need to rely on buffalo or yetis for sustenance now.
The spared ones... hmm, shall I eat them?
Prime beef ought to taste fine.
"Kyung kyung!"
As I moved to slowly devour the spared ones first, the fox—who should have been deep in her meal—called out to me.
Glancing over, she kyung-ed again.
Roughly: 'Rip this open for me!'
Her thick fur made it impossible to bite through...
Indeed, an F-rank monster couldn't wound a C-rank one.
I called her over first.
Not the long-dead ones—fresh meat was better.
She refused.
Seemed she fancied the one right in front of her.
Fine. I'd handle it.
Another water spell to carve a gash.
She yipped joyfully and plunged her muzzle into the buffalo's belly.
My tail barely blocked her in time.
A sudden image flashed: her fur, once fluffy white, stained crimson with blood from a buffalo carcass.
Unacceptable.
I hoisted the corpse upside down.
That should drain the blood, right?
I'm not stealing it—just wait a moment.
Ah, paw attack incoming.
Keep it coming.
Humbly enduring her protests, I diligently drained the blood from the buffalo corpse.
I even removed the guts, lest they stink.
She'd charge into my coils reeking otherwise.
While at it, why not grill some?
I barely taste anything, but she might.
So quit whining and wait.
I'll grill it tasty.
Rare? Well-done?
I recommend medium—safe bet.
Ah, just give it to her?
Hold on, you impatient rascal.
I'll show you paradise.
Unable to decide, I made one of each.
The fox dove into the cooked meat with ferocious gusto.
She devoured it happily.
Surprisingly, she preferred well-done.
Next time, grill 'em all crispy.
And maybe char one to ash sometime?
Paw attack again.
On the way back to the cave, belly full, she dozed off atop my head.
Her steady breathing—snuff snuff—and faint heartbeat pulsed rhythmically.
So noisy outbound...
Feed her whenever she gets rowdy from now on.
I moved even more carefully than before, lest she wake.
Encountered a few monsters en route, but dispatched them swiftly before she stirred.
Just as we reached the cave, I had to admit it.
To grow this attached in a single day...
I'd said I'd dispose of her if she annoyed me, but now? Impossible.
Not like me at all...
Hitherto, I'd slain countless monsters—cute or grotesque, young or old—without hesitation.
But not this one. Never.
...Have I been starved for affection?
Vaguely sensed it since meeting Arde, but yes—truly.
No monster dared approach my ferocious form and aura.
But her? Pure, unhesitating closeness.
No ulterior motives—just innocent emotion.
A sensation absent these two years of journey.
My prior jest rang true: labyrinth life, steeped in strife, had worn me down unknowingly.
She was healing me.
At the cave, I lit a fire.
Gently lifted the oblivious sleeper from my head with my tail, laying her on the floor.
Something nagged; I adjusted again.
Her chin now rested atop my head.
...Fine. No emergency rations.
Drool pooled from her mouth.
My scales gleamed slick.
Eat this... or not...?
My view of the fox had shifted—no more "emergency rations." But a problem remained.
I'd accepted her as pet and bait, yet overlooked the essentials.
A proper name.
Couldn't keep calling her "fox" or "rascal" forever.
I pondered.
Her exact species? Unknown.
"Fox" fit her look, but no precise match in my memory.
First discoverer names it, per custom.
Thus: [Snow Fox]. Decent. Solid.
Untapped naming talent, apparently.
Species fixed: [Snow Fox].
From that, her name: 'Suli.' From snow —Suli.
Decent again. I'm thrilled.
Suli seemed pleased too—"Kyung kyung!"
Though she probably didn't grasp it.
Male or female? Pups are tricky.
Anyway, let's get along, Suli.
A week with Suli.
Had to concede: raising a life is grueling.
Responsibility drives effort, but at this rate, she might revert to rations.
All pet owners out there—mad respect.
But her antics feel more child than animal.
Stubborn, quick to tire, sulky, constant whines and tantrums.
Like a four- or five-year-old.
Sought a pet; became a parent instead.
Who knows when my patience snaps? But I named her, didn't I?
Anyway, chin up.
My head's no pillow, Suli.
Not drool-friendly.
"Kyaaang—!!!"
...Eat this... or not...?
Blizzards raged these past days.
I could venture out fine, but Suli? No.
Native to this floor, she handled cold, but not gales that'd whisk her away.
So quit begging to go.
Problem: My Gluttony stores energy endlessly.
Not her. She needed food.
Had to hunt through the storm.
Dad... er, butler suffers thus.
Hunting, not playing.
Wait obediently.
No whines. No pouts.
Guard the house till dad... er, butler... master returns.
Good kids watch home alone.
Thus, I hunted.
Couldn't leave a child truly alone, so hurried.
Storm obscured prey; raided a pre-scouted yeti nest.
My infinite refill buffet.
Suli preferred buffalo, but time was short.
I'll grill nice—please endure.
The cave was empty on return.
Only my pre-lit fire crackled softly.
Despite warnings, she went out alone?
Why disobey?
What if harm came?
Injured?
Monsters?
What if... what if...
"Shaaaah—!!!"
A furious higher monster's roar pierced the blizzard, echoing across the snow peaks.
Vision blurred red.
Slaughtered and shattered indiscriminately.
Cursed the storm's shortened senses.
Emotions surged: rage and irritation at Suli's defiance.
Vaster worry overshadowed it.
Equal fury at myself.
Targetless killing intent boiled.
Kill.
Kill.
Kill.
Every monster in this snowfield, 70th floor—all dead.
Please... be safe.
Skill Berserk G created due to intense rage.
Excessive rage causes loss of reason.
Calm your mind and body immediately.
Rage exceeds limits.
Skill Berserk G evolves to Wrath C.
Calm your mind and bo—
Skill Wrath C evolves to Fury A.
Calm your min—
"Kyuu—!"
A faint cry pierced the storm and my magic barrages.
So subtle I'd miss without focus—yet it drilled into my rampaging ears.
Rage-clouded mind cleared instantly.
I whipped my gaze around.
A faint shape in the blizzard: snow-white fluffball.
Perked pointed ears atop.
Fox tail whipping wildly.
Battling fierce winds, charging here—unmistakably Suli.
Shii—!!!
I surged toward her.
She bounded up, beaming: "Kyung kyung!"
Meaning: 'This blizzard's nothing to me!'
Her nonchalance drained my tension.
Hated how I parsed it perfectly amid this.
Hated her innocent tail-wag, oblivious.
Above all, immense relief.
Shii—
Safe. That's enough.
But punishment awaits.
Caught meat grilled medium.
No disappointed faces.
I'm truly furious this time—rare for me.
Anyway, homeward.
Storm's bad—don't dash ahead. Hold my... climb obediently to my head.