Chapter 51: The Third Main Slave
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 51: The Third Main Slave
A teahouse in the capital of Vestia.
The shop was run by deer beastkin. It was a tranquil space, and the leaves decorating the interior made it feel as if you were in a forest.
A deer-like waitress with horns on her head walked over with light steps and arrived at our table.
“Here is the Antler Tea you ordered.”
She set down the tea Bolt had ordered.
It was a thick concoction, a mixture of green and brown.
It smelled like the kind of herbal medicine an elderly person might drink.
“What is this tea made of?”
“It’s made from the ground-up antlers of deer beastkin. It’s said to relieve fatigue and boost vitality. Please, try it.”
“Hmph, deer antlers… That’s a bit awkward.”
So it was basically deer velvet antler, but hearing it from a deer beastkin’s mouth just felt… strange. Like eating pork in front of a pig.
I should have kept that thought to myself, but it slipped out. The employee’s expression immediately soured.
“Tsk. Then don’t drink it.”
“Ah, that’s not what I meant…”
“Honestly, humans are so picky. Ordering something and then complaining about the ingredients.”
The employee shot a stinging remark at me and took the tea back.
Beside me, Seira was once again jotting down an evaluation. I didn't have to see it to know my score had dropped.
“Karami, you’re truly inept at dealing with beastkin. How can a slave trader be like that?”
“There are so many different kinds of beastkin, it’s not easy. I’ve raised cat and dog beastkin before, but…”
The common sense I possessed kept clashing with this bizarre reality. The gap was so vast that adapting was proving to be quite difficult.
Just because you’ve played a cat-raising game doesn’t mean you’re good at raising actual cats.
“I’ll buy you a copy of ‘Beastkin Special Lecture: Tricks for Dealing with Beastkin.’ Make it required reading.”
“I suppose I’ll have to.”
Bolt took a sip of his tea.
“So, Karami, what brings you to Vestia?”
“I’m here on business. There’s a beastkin I need to meet.”
“An acquaintance?”
“We’re about to be.”
Bolt looked like he didn’t understand, but he just nodded his head as if it didn’t matter.
“Where are you headed?”
“I need to go to White Cloud Valley.”
White Cloud Valley.
Its name meant a valley draped in white clouds. It was home to a small village where foxes lived clustered together.
The third main slave was there.
“Hmm, I don’t recall ever hearing of a place called White Cloud Valley. My Buddy, have you ever heard of it?”
“I don’t know much about the habitats of other tribes… I’ve never heard of White Cloud Valley either.”
Bolt and Buddy seemed clueless. Our gazes naturally turned to Seira. She sighed before finally giving an answer.
“If you go east, there’s a region shrouded in fog. Deep inside White Cloud Valley, there’s a fox den where about thirty members of the Fox Clan live in hiding. However, it’s not well-known because passage is difficult due to the many dangerous demonic beasts.”
As she spoke, Seira’s eyes narrowed.
“How do you know about this? I only know because I’m in a position where a lot of information is exchanged. It’s the backwater of all backwaters, a place even most beastkin don’t know about.”
Seira stared at me with suspicious eyes. She looked like a predator ready to pounce, but I met her gaze with a confident attitude, refusing to be intimidated.
“How could I not know this, when I love beastkin so much?”
*
Deep within White Cloud Valley, nestled where the mountain range was shrouded in mist, lay the fox den.
The sharp wind that blew through the ravine sounded like the wail of a ghost, or perhaps the dying scream of an outsider who had wandered in unknowingly.
The air was so eerie it felt like something could leap out at any moment. And indeed, outside the valley, demonic beasts—or what some would call yokai—roamed.
They couldn't leave. The silver lining was that the creatures couldn't cross the narrow pass either. And so, the foxes lived in hiding, deep inside the valley.
They had for generations.
Therefore, this life of daily anxiety was the fault of the founder who settled here, not of anyone in the current generation.
But when pushed to a mental breaking point, people tend to blame someone else. It’s the only way to rationalize their situation, even just a little.
As it happened, the foxes had the perfect person to blame.
“Hwayo, time to earn your keep.”
Multiple pairs of eyes were fixed solely on one small fox.
Pink fur.
Odd-colored eyes that held both day and night.
The girl’s appearance, so different from the others, stood out starkly among the foxes. A monster fox who neither aged nor spoke, and no one knew when she had started living in this valley.
Such a girl had no name.
Hwayo, the Calamity Fox who brings misfortune.
It wasn't a name, or anything of the sort. Even a child abandoned by their parents has a name, but this girl did not.
The pink fox brings misfortune. It was a legend passed down from ancient times.
Being trapped in White Cloud Valley.
The yokai that threatened the village.
The foxes believed without a doubt that all of this was because Hwayo had brought misfortune upon them.
“What are you waiting for? Get out, Hwayo.”
The voice was cold and detached.
Whenever yokai appeared, the foxes would drive the girl out of the village. It was a tradition passed down through the ages. When the girl was far from the village, the yokai would follow her.
Hwayo might die in the process, but that was none of their concern. She should be grateful they fed and housed her.
It was the bare minimum of mercy they could show a member of their own kind.
“……”
Hwayo stood at the path leading out of the village.
The loneliness and fear she felt every time she was driven out had not faded. Her body began to tremble faintly.
Hwayo took a step into the darkness-shrouded world outside. She glanced back one last time.
All that was there were foxes, waiting for her to leave as quickly as possible.
Hwayo disappeared into the mist, into the biting wind.
*
“Hah… hah…”
Gasping for breath, Hwayo raced through the valley on all fours.
Her frail, lonely footsteps echoed through the forest. The thick fog made it impossible to see even a step ahead. She continued her precarious dash, feeling as if she might misstep at any moment.
Her pink fur was already soaked with mist and sweat, and her heart pounded as if it would burst.
The delicate child’s hands and feet were covered in wounds. But she had no luxury to feel the pain.
Strange blue lights flickered beyond the fog. Will-o'-the-wisps. They glimmered faintly, circling her as if in mockery.
They seemed to whisper ominous things, as if trying to lure a lost soul into deeper confusion.
Thump… thump…
Her ears twitched. The low, terrifying breathing of a giant yokai echoed through the valley. The sound was getting closer.
If I stop, I die.
If I get lost, I die.
She’d fled like this countless times, yet she never got used to it. The fog, like a sea mist, made her lose all sense of direction.
Because of it, she had once wandered for four days before finding her way back to the village.
But there was no time to rest. She had hastily gobbled up the potatoes the villagers threw her and was forced to run out again that very night.
Hwayo didn’t resent them. It was her own fault for being born with the burden of misfortune. It was her fault for being born with pink fur.
She should be grateful to them for simply letting her live.
THUMP!
The yokai’s footstep shook the ground. It felt like an earthquake, and Hwayo leaped into the air.
She frantically looked around.
Where do I go?
Where do I go?
I don’t know.
I don’t know anything.
Anxiety spread like a wave.
Fear enveloped her entire body.
Sniff.
“…?”
Just then, Hwayo’s nose twitched. A scent drifted in—the scent of the forest. A refreshing aroma she had never smelled before instantly filled her senses.
She didn’t know what was there. But her beastkin instincts told her she had to go that way.
The moment Hwayo took a large step forward—
“Ah…!”
A slope.
She hadn’t seen it because of the fog.
She lost her footing and tumbled down.
Sprawled on the ground, Hwayo tried to get up, but she couldn’t. Blood trickled from her scraped leg.
THUD!
The sound was closer now.
I have to run.
I have to run, but I can’t move.
I’m scared. It hurts. I’m in so much pain.
Tears streamed from Hwayo’s dual-colored eyes. The wound on her leg burned as if it were on fire.
But there was no one in this world to embrace her, painted as she was with the brand of a heretic.
Hwayo dragged her injured leg, crawling forward. That’s when she heard it—footsteps.
They were distinctly lighter than the yokai’s, but as her consciousness faded, she couldn’t tell the difference.
Through her closing eyelids, she saw a black shadow approaching from the mist.
The figure of a reaper.
As if it had come to collect the life she had clung to like a beggar.
Her consciousness blurred.
Her sun-and-moon-colored eyes disappeared from view.
The reaper’s shadow fell over Hwayo as she lay unconscious on the ground.
Karami looked down at the limp little fox before him.
Her tail and ears were lusterless from neglect, tangled irregularly, and caked with dirt and dust. Her body was covered in wounds. She was emaciated from not eating well.
The tragedy brought by misfortune.
“To meet you like this. I’m lucky.”
But Karami said he was lucky.
He had been lost, worrying about how on earth he would find the village, and she had come to him first.
[The Fox Who Brings Misfortune]
The third main slave.
One of the most popular characters in TOS, who often vied for the number one spot in popularity polls.
The nameless fox, Hwayo.
And the name that only Karami knew in this entire world.
“Rin.”
At the name, the ears of the fox called Rin twitched ever so slightly.