Fox Den (7)

Fortunately, though, nothing so dramatic as being roasted golden-brown from head to toe—or vanishing without a trace—came to pass.

The flames that had been hurtling toward me were gone without a whisper. I was still standing there with my arm outstretched, palm open. And resting on that palm was the very Fox Bead that had vanished into Tara’s mouth only moments before.

I stared blankly for a second, then muttered in a sulky grumble.

"Just when did you slap that hallucination on me?"

"From the moment you so innocently took out your Fox Bead, Lady Choco."

A soft sigh slipped out of me as the system window finally popped up to match Tara’s words. Only Yeon, still clinging to my back, kept blinking as if she hadn’t quite caught up yet.

"A Fox Bead is more precious to a successor than life itself. Even if Lady Gumiho herself asked to see it, you must never show it."

Not that Lady Gumiho would ever ask in the first place, of course—Tara added with a bright little smile. I answered in a voice thick with disbelief.

"So that’s why you showed me that hallucination? As a warning?"

"Because it seems you still haven’t grasped what you are, Lady Choco. There are more people after a Fox Bead than you might think. Myself included, for starters."

In other words, if things had gone sideways, that hallucination might not have stayed a hallucination. I ignored the cold sweat sliding down my back and opened my mouth again.

"So you made me take out the Fox Bead just to give me a warning like that?"

"Of course not. From here on, I’m going to teach you the basics of handling spiritual power."

Tara raised her hand over the Fox Bead as she spoke. The memory of what I’d seen in the hallucination flashed through me, and my body flinched on its own.

"I’m not going to eat you."

"I know that already, okay? Just hurry ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠up and teach me this spiritual power stuff already."

I put some force into the words, trying to push back against her teasing, but Tara’s face was already full of open mockery.

If only my level were higher. I shot her a resentful glare—and just like that, as if nothing had happened, she began to explain at a leisurely pace.

"As I said before, spiritual power is the force that governs the power of the soul, so knowing your own origin is essential to wielding it. But if you have a Fox Bead, you can do this—"

Something began to ripple from Tara’s hand where it touched the Fox Bead, then flowed along the bead and into my hand.

"—guide it."

"…This ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠feels weird."

How was I supposed to describe it? Like feeling the movement of blood itself—or like a hole had been punched clean through my arm and wind was rushing through it.

It was a sensation too subtle and strange for words. My whole body even gave a faint, shivering tremble.

"Stop getting distracted and remember the flow you’re feeling in your body right now. How the spiritual power moves, and where it comes and goes."

At that firm command, I closed my eyes and began to track the current of spiritual power.

The energy that had climbed my left arm soon descended into my left leg; from there it passed through my lower abdomen into my right leg, then my right arm, and up into my head.

As if completing a full circuit of my body, the spiritual power soon began to gather at the center of my chest. Toward my heart—no, somewhere even deeper than that.

And then my eyes opened of their own accord. Tara was gone. So was Yeon. This wasn’t the shrine with the great fox statue, either.

Nothing but a vast white space. Being left alone like that should have been enough to panic me—and yet, strangely, I felt none of that.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

If anything, it was comfortable. A cozy ease so deep that if I simply stayed still, I might nod off where I stood. Falling asleep like this might not even be so bad…

"Hup—!"

Tara’s voice rang through my head, and my eyes—half a breath from sliding shut—snapped wide open.

"Tara? Where are you?"

Easy for her to say, move. I scratched my cheek and looked around. Every direction was the same blank white horizon; nothing stood out at all.

"Which way am I supposed to go?"

This brat—she already knows, doesn’t she? I thought as much while staring up at the same white sky. Tara kept talking regardless.

"A room of the soul?"

Anything unusual, she says. That’s way too vague an explanation. Grumbling to myself, I started walking.

And before long, just as Tara had said, I found something truly unusual.

"That’s…"

At the sound of my voice, a pair of ears twitched. Slowly, a bowed head began to lift. Golden eyes glittered as they turned toward me.

She was beautiful. A beauty with golden hair cascading like a waterfall and a face that carried a faintly sorrowful cast. The fox ears flicking atop her head and the lush tails behind her made it plain she was no ordinary human.

And—enviably enough—there was a man resting his head in that beauty’s lap. A soldier, short-haired, cradling a military cap marked with a staff sergeant’s insignia against his chest.

That face, at least, I knew well. Of course I did. It was how I’d looked before becoming this body.

For a moment I simply watched the man—me, or rather what I supposed was my soul here—sleeping with a face free of every care in the world. Then I strode toward them, footsteps thudding hard.

The noise should have been enough to wake anyone, but the soul slept on without a care, as if nothing could reach him. Was it because this younger body was weak—or because his nerves were made of steel?

Either way, it was seriously irritating. Here I was, stuck as a fox and a little kid on top of it, while this guy was sleeping like he hadn’t a problem in the world. Soul or not, I couldn’t forgive that.

I was just about to deliver the classic military hazing kick—You think you’ve got the rank to sleep on duty?—with this child-sized body when—

"Eek—!"

I hadn’t expected her to speak at all. I startled so hard I missed my step. My body lurched and I started to fall—but luckily I didn’t end up planting my face in the ground.

It was thanks to the woman who caught me, her voice full of apology. I stared blankly into those large eyes, shimmering as if they might spill tears at any moment—then jerked in surprise and rushed to deny it.

"Ah—no, I’m the one who should be thanking you…?"

I spoke in a voice that shrank away like a shy young girl’s—and then a sudden sense of wrongness hit me. Had I always been this kind of person?

Back in the old days—especially during my military service—I really had blushed and stammered like a loser in front of pretty women.

But now, no matter how beautiful someone was, all I felt was a simple appreciation of that beauty. I wouldn’t get this shaken up over it.

I’d proven as much when Tara transformed into a human, hadn’t I? Granted, the woman in front of me was far prettier than Tara—but even so, it shouldn’t have meant this much.

So was it this space, then? I pushed myself up from the woman’s arms and looked at my soul, who still hadn’t opened his eyes through all the commotion.

Only now did I notice how terribly young his face looked. If I’d still been that age, I would absolutely have felt exactly what I’d just felt looking at her.

That sudden surge of emotion must have come from the same place. Because the form of my soul was still that awkward, unpolished version of me.

She said it while stroking the soul’s hair—gentle as if handling a child, a soft smile on her face.

But watching her now, my face didn’t flush and my heart didn’t race the way they had a moment ago. Before she could speak again, I cut in quickly.

"How to use spiritual power—do you know?"

"I don’t want to hear it."

She held out her hand. Resting on her palm was a bead much like the Fox Bead I had shown Tara.

Following her words, I set my hand on the bead. The reverse of the arrangement I’d had with Tara. But what I felt this time was different.

The instant my hand touched the Fox Bead, the method of using spiritual power rose in my mind as if I had only forgotten it for a while. And with it, the way to leave this place—the room of the soul.

She seemed to sense it as well, speaking almost like a farewell.

But I had no intention of ever coming back to this place.

Never. The thought had barely formed when my vision swayed. Then came the sensation of being launched somewhere far away.

My body, freed from the room of the soul, lingered near my heart. Then it climbed straight to my head, ran down my right arm, and moved into my right leg again.

Like a salmon swimming upstream against the current, it reversed the entire path—and at last my eyes opened. Tara stood there looking thoroughly put out, and beside her Yeon was pressed close, watching me with a face full of worry.

"Well? Do you feel anything?"

"Choco, are you okay?"

I steadied my breathing at their words, then drew up spiritual power. The alien sensation I’d felt when receiving Tara’s energy was completely gone. If anything, I felt refreshed.

As if something long blocked and unable to come out had finally broken free.

Gazing at the Fox Bead rippling with a vivid green light, I said,

"I think I’m gonna throw up—ugh…"

"If you throw up in here, you really will die."

"Want me to rub your back?"

Circling your own body once while fully conscious turned out to be surprisingly nauseating.

I clamped a hand over my mouth and waited for my spinning head to settle.

"Urgh…"

"Still feel like you’re going to throw up?"

"No… I’m a little better now…"

Maybe it was thanks to the person rubbing my back, but at least I was spared the spectacle of putting on a grand pancake-flipping performance all over the shrine floor.

I hadn’t really eaten anything to begin with, so it would have been nothing but bright yellow bile—but at the very least, I’d avoided Tara’s wrath.

That aside, my stats had gone up quite a bit. Setting aside the stat that had changed into Spiritual Power, each of the others had risen by a full 10—30 in total—and Spiritual Power itself had nearly tripled compared to when it was still Mana.

At this level, there was almost no monster in Lucifen Forest I couldn’t handle. Learn even one simple spell and the end times would come for this forest.

…Assuming I could still use magic, of course. With the Mana stat gone entirely, I probably couldn’t cast spells anymore.

In exchange, I’d be able to use other things powered by spiritual energy. I dry-heaved one more time, then looked at Tara with an exhausted face.

"All done now?"

"Yeah… thanks for waiting."

"Not at all. The second you soiled the shrine, I was planning to throw this at you."

She tossed a flame from hand to hand as if it were nothing, and I let out a hollow laugh.

I was hardly one to talk, but she really had zero mercy for what was, for all appearances, a child’s body. While I was thinking that, Tara snuffed out the flame and spoke.

"—Well then. Now that you’ve awakened to spiritual power, shall we start with some simple Five Elements Daoism?"

Daoist arts, was it? Honestly, I didn’t have much confidence. It was unfamiliar enough on its own—and I’d only just grasped the bare fundamentals of spiritual power. Taking another step into actual techniques on top of that felt like a lot.

If it had been magic, I had experience; I could have managed. Daoist arts were another story.

Still, I’d have to pull it off somehow. If only for the sake of those hard-earned stats.

I set my face and nodded.