章 59: Kitsune's final resting place
"Be prepared!" my voice of warning echoed in the minds of my companions. For the past hour, we had been stealthily approaching the locus of intense and malevolent energies, during which time we had encountered two assaults. The first was comprised of no less than thirty-five eights, which we vanquished without difficulty, but the second assault was met with seventy-nine foxes, which posed no challenge for us either.
However, when the third wave of foxes rushed towards us, we faced three nines, with the remaining one hundred and twenty-six assailants being eights. This prompted me to issue a warning to my warriors, as the disparity in strength between eights and nines was significant.
"I claim this nine as my own!" Maria's response followed mine, as she resolved to confront one of the opponents on her own.
"Then the one on my right is mine!" May exclaimed, eager to showcase her strength and beauty in full glory. She desired to be part of my pack, indeed.
"My left," Koneko replied curtly, her feline features more pronounced than ever. She had transformed into her fighting form, just like Mei, who now stood fully furred and towering over three meters at the withers. While not their full size, they believed this would suffice.
When the moment arrived, with the wave of eight-tailed beasts colliding with our defenses, where archmages from the front lines had erected impenetrable barriers against the creatures, my wives, including Ayakashi Mei, were no longer by my side. They had already infiltrated the enemy ranks, remaining undetected like a pack of enraged wild dogs challenging the barrier.
The young ladies, once they had been separated from the main body by a force field, fearlessly launched their assault on the designated objectives they had previously identified.
Maria was the first to engage her adversary. She did not reserve or conceal her strength in this brief encounter, and, unwilling to prolong it, she dispatched her opponent with a single strike. When the crimson fox was five meters distant from Maria and had already celebrated its victory, believing that its rival could not escape it, its nine tails, which, like scorpion stingers, curved to strike at Maria and were poised to attack, suddenly found themselves at a disadvantage.
The body of the multi-tailed creature, poised for the final assault, transformed into a dense mass that instantly solidified, leaving only the head, which the beast had lost at that precise moment. Maria severed it with a sword crafted by Adair, and now the fox's head lay at her mistress' feet, while the creature's body remained as if encased in solidified resin.
The potency of dreams is a subtle force that is exceedingly difficult to discern, and its effects become apparent only in retrospect. Mei, the fox, had unwittingly ventured into a realm imbued with the essence of the dreamworld, where she was instantly entrapped, rendering her vulnerable and defenseless.
In the ensuing confrontation, Mei and the other force engaged in a fierce battle, a clash of two intertwined energies. Within the span of mere seconds, over three hundred blows were traded between them, with all thirteen extremities and jowls of these enraged entities involved in the struggle.
It is worth noting that the history of Ayakashi kitsune and their relation to a race of fox-turned-ogre fae bears some significance. The Ayakashi kitsune emerged after humans first encountered Fae foxes, and their relationship was fraught with tension. Despite the initial hostility between humans and ogres, some individuals attributed neutral or even positive qualities to these creatures, giving rise to the idea of fox werewolves.
The Ayakashi-kitsune, a race born from these imaginings, were incarnated from the dreams of the Chinese and Japanese, emerging from a rift in the fabric of our reality, along which the Japanese archipelago lies. The Fae kitsune regard the Ayakashi as unfortunate imitations, viewing them with contempt and seeking to eliminate them upon encounter.
I was naturally prepared to intervene at a moment's notice and lend a hand to Mei, but my assistance was not required. Ayakashi possessed at least one-third the strength of her adversary, and thus, the faerie's beheaded corpse was the inevitable outcome of their confrontation.
On the other hand, Koneka conducted herself in the finest hunting traditions of her feline kin. She did not engage in direct combat. She did not even reveal herself to her opponent. Instead, she allowed it to rush headlong towards a shimmering energy barrier that held back the eight-tailed beast, while archmages from the second line of defense unleashed their spells upon it as if it were a moving target in a shooting range. They sought to determine the most effective spells against these creatures.
And only when the nine-tailed fox was mere centimeters away from the shield raised by the archmagi, preparing to strike with her powerful paws and nine tails, dodging a dozen attacks, did Koneka emerge from the astral plane behind her, just slightly to the side and above her shoulders. With a swift stroke of her claws, my feline companion swiftly removed the ugly head of the fox, bringing an end to the conflict.
Thus, the battle came to a close. Around us, on the border, where the barrier had previously been erected, the corpses of the eight-tailed creatures lay in a pile. The fallen foxes were easily identifiable. My vassals, mindful of my instructions, began collecting the bodies of the slain kitsune into their dimensional pockets. After all, these precious and rare ingredients would serve as valuable resources for strengthening my knights and thus belonged in the storerooms of the Order.
"It's all so simple and tedious!" Alfonso appeared slightly disgruntled, irritated that everything seemed so effortless for us, leaving him without an opportunity to prove himself.
"What did you expect? Look around you and see who is with us. We are all archmages, save for my apprentices, and it would be peculiar for more than two hundred magi of such caliber to encounter difficulty. However, it will not last. Judging from the traps we have encountered thus far, an intriguing adversary awaits us ahead. I am not the only one who shares this opinion."
Alfonso expressed my thoughts aloud. And indeed, this is true, but I do not anticipate allowing you to engage in combat with her. This foe, to my mind, is formidable, and I shall need to confront him myself.
And as if fate had not conspired against us, so to speak, with another unpleasant surprise in store for us. So, beware, my friend!
As we conversed with our fellow twin, the sorceresses had already tidied up their tracks and were prepared to move on.
Further along, we encountered another stone stairway, but whereas the previous one had been fashioned from ordinary mountain stone, this one appeared to be crafted from blocks resembling volcanic rock. Not quite obsidian, perhaps, but something akin to it. Naturally, I dispatched my clones ahead to ascend the steps. They climbed without incident, and only when it became clear that there was no threat, did I send them onward, accompanied by my vassals and kin, as I began my own ascent. I sensed no treachery from the staircase, and my instincts remained silent.
Thus, it continued until my duplicates reached the summit of the staircase, where they arrived at the peak of the mountain. There stood a magnificent structure reminiscent of a Japanese castle from the Middle Ages, incorporating elements of Chinese architectural design, with its pagodas and other distinctive Asian features.
At that moment, my instincts screamed of impending disaster, as I and my companions found ourselves in the midst of the stairs. To my chagrin, it was Iolanthe who was the first to react, not myself. However, this was not unexpected.
It is unclear how the foxes accomplished this feat, but the steps leading to this point served as a gateway to the realm of uncertainty. Throughout our journey, the stones composing these stairs drew upon our strength, albeit in minuscule quantities. Yet, I failed to realize that even two hundred and one Archmages and four divine entities amounted to a significant force!
And when the stone had absorbed the requisite amount of energy, it abruptly vanished from our reality and plummeted down the staircase, nearly falling into the realm of death.
It was fortunate that at that moment we were accompanied by a descendant of Hel who, in an instant, cast modified spells of the Veil of Morana around us, thus shielding the souls of the archmages from being dragged into the gray wastelands, the liminal spaces leading to the world of the deceased. Only those archmages who had achieved such a position in the realms of death and demonology were immune to this threat, as they possessed the skills to protect themselves from the malevolent influence of the Gray Boundaries. My wives and I, being deities, were also immune to this danger.
Upon my return, we must be certain to reward Iolanthe! She has now shown herself to be of great value, and perhaps most importantly, at the right time, providing the archmages with the opportunity to regain their composure, stabilise their surroundings, and return us to the realm of the living.
With the clever Peverell already protecting my knights, no assistance was required of me, so I observed my vassals at work on their mission. My only concern was to protect my students, but this concern proved unnecessary, as they were well-shielded and under the vigilant gaze of my illusions.
"What was that?!" my brother exclaimed, his voice filled with surprise and understanding, having narrowly escaped death himself.
I turned to Iolanthe, addressing the question to the one among us most adept in the art of death magic, for it was through her efforts that we had nearly been sent to meet the ancestor of Peverell.
Iolanthe, to whom I had turned, drawing everyone's gaze, now appeared to be intently observing the stairs, more specifically, the material from which they were constructed. She leaned over, touching the stone as if listening intently. Her countenance was one of intense concentration, her gaze furrowed.
"I have never encountered such a phenomenon, but I can conceive of how it might be accomplished," she remarked.
This stone is an embodiment of the idea of death. Similar things happen with altars dedicated to various manifestations of death, on which numerous sacrifices are offered. However, if the stone is already endowed with the essence of this concept in its final form, it differs from the one that was once a solid rock.
Most likely, for an extended period, the remains of bodies were cast into the molten lava, where they burned and dissolved. The rock remained in this state for a long time, receiving the remains of sentient beings. Only after it became the embodiment of death was it permitted to cool, and subsequently shaped into blocks that formed this staircase. We do not sense any emanations of death emanating from the path, as it has acquired the properties of obsidian after solidifying. This stone now shields against any form of energy.. That is why we cannot sense the necromantic essence within the stone, yet I have still managed to tap into the power of the ancestor, a portion of which is imbued in these rocks.
Iolanthe delivered a lengthy discourse elucidating the nature of the events that had transpired. However, her words did not conclude there.
"I can also detect a repugnant stench of putrefaction and decay emanating from the fortress before us. Such exhalations are characteristic of a necromancer who engages in the most abominable practices of their chosen magical discipline. One such practice involves the consumption of the withered and decaying flesh of their victims, akin to necrophilia. My liege, allow me to vanquish this abomination! Its very existence is an affront to my bloodline and an abomination that should not be allowed to exist!"
"Are you certain you can handle this?" Iolanthe asked me. I could feel a powerful nine-tailed entity at the edge of my senses, subtly distinct from the three we had encountered moments before, as if it possessed a superiority that set it apart. It was unlike anything I had ever encountered before.
Nine-tails were the highest rank in this faerie race, yet the one residing on the first floor of the nine-story castle seemed to surpass even these exceptional creatures. Peverell's resolve was unwavering, her determination to confront this being emanating from every fiber of her being. Without question, I nodded in agreement, and she took the lead, rushing towards our adversary, with the rest of us following in tow.
To our surprise, we encountered no one else on our journey, although I sensed, at the edge of my awareness, that the periphery around us, at a distance of several kilometres, occasionally flashed with the signatures of nine-tailed creatures. These signatures resembled those left by the ones my companions and Mei had slain, and I pondered why these creatures did not attack us but seemed to avoid us.
However, I would reflect on this matter after Iolanthe had confronted her adversary. I certainly did not anticipate seeing a one-on-one confrontation here. I lacked the nobility required for such a fight, and I would never dream of allowing my vassal to engage in such a battle when I had the advantage of numbers. Yet here we were, with a request from one who had saved more than a hundred of my subjects from death, and I could not deny her on the wave of gratitude that overwhelmed me now, in the wake of Iolanthe's act of heroism.
Would you care to challenge yourself and personally vanquish the foe awaiting us on the lower level of the castle? By all means. However, should it encounter any perilous predicament during the conflict and find itself in imminent peril, I shall step in to provide assistance!
It was a remarkable experience to traverse through the open portals of Jagura-mon, the gate tower of a Japanese castle complex, and enter a meticulously maintained courtyard devoid of any presence, save for the faint traces of decay, emanating a sickly sweet scent of putrefaction that threatened to induce retching in even the most resilient of spirits. Even my stoic students were visibly affected, their senses still unaccustomed to the nuances of such surroundings.
I had forgotten about Bellatrix's extraordinary ability to perceive magical phenomena, and she found it difficult to suppress the urge to expel her stomach contents. Our recent meal had left her particularly vulnerable, making it challenging to maintain her composure. Sylvia, too, experienced a similar sensation, though she was still unable to fully comprehend the nature of her own emotions.
I observed all of this with the periphery of my attention, while the core of my focus was directed towards assessing the situation around us and identifying any potential threats. Indeed, I am a stereotypical second-rate hero of fantasy fiction, one who places his head in the jaws of the dragon. However, I have neither the intention nor the capability to unleash apocalyptic destruction with a single strike. My primary objective is to allow my subordinates to prove their worth and demonstrate their resilience.
It would be as simple as bringing this castle to the notice of the unified collective consciousness, and in an instant, a crater of courtly proportions would appear, filled with molten rock, radiating a blinding light.
But what now? With such thoughts, one of our minds, detached from the task of monitoring the situation, led us all into the tentsu — the central castle tower. We encountered no obstacles that might have delayed us, and calmly passed through the open gate to confront the source of the sickening odour.
Upon entering the castle, we found ourselves in a vast hall that seemingly occupied the entire ground floor. The room was circular in shape, with a substantial number of columns lining the perimeter. In the very center of the hall stood a lofty pedestal upon which reclined an object that defied description.
Kitsune, reclining upon the bed, presented an appearance akin to that of a leper, shabby, disease-ridden, and decaying from within. In the areas where her hair had been lost, the nine-tailed entity bore boils and sores that seeped foul-smelling pus. And in those places where hair still remained, it was in a repulsive state, slimy and unkempt, evoking nothing but feelings of revulsion. Such was the condition throughout her entire body.
However, it was the head of this nine-tailed fox that demanded special attention. One ear had been missing, revealing the yellowish bone of her skull, while her eyes were bloodshot, but not due to their natural coloration, rather, it gave the impression that they were a consequence of continuous suffering for a sick and moribund creature. Her lips, resembling those of a bulldog's, drooped, revealing her fangs, from which saliva flowed unceasingly, a yellow-green substance more akin to pus.
And for all its repulsive appearance, the aura emanating from the creature was even more disturbing than that of the nine-tailed foxes my companions had previously dispatched. This was highly alarming, especially given the unusual coloration of the fur on the fox that lay before us, its kin, which was black. It was difficult to determine whether this was its natural color or if it had become so filthy.
As we approached, we were confronted with the spectacle of one of the kitsune's tails disappearing into its maw, accompanied by the sound of gnashing bones and the cries of agony from the unfortunate nine-tailed creature that still lived. I counted six tails, though how many remained after our intervention remains a mystery.
After witnessing this abomination, I began to doubt the possibility of extracting any useful information from this creature once it had been slain and its spirit captured. It was clear that this creature was deranged.
I attempted to delve into the psyche of this nine-tailed entity, but I was met with an ocean of torment, anguish, and madness seasoned with all the bitterness of existence. Thus, I did not even attempt to probe deeper into her mind. Undoubtedly, I possessed greater strength and skill than she did, but my mental prowess was not superior to that of the Kitsune, and in such a state, venturing into the mind of a deranged individual would be akin to madness.
Therefore, I had no alternative but to closely observe the unfolding events and impending battle, should I wish to remain vigilant of the threat to Iolanthe and intervene in time to avert harm to my vassal, while also upholding my promise to allow Iolanthe the opportunity to slay the child herself.
As we neared the creature's lair, it munched on its meal at a leisurely pace, its gaze fixed intently on our movements.
"Enough," I declared. "My lord, please remain here, for I shall take this matter in hand. This abomination shall not exist."
Iolanthe requested that we halt at the very threshold of the open expanse in the heart of the chamber, devoid of pillars and devoid of anything else, save for the bed of an ailing, one might even say moribund, fox.
The nine-tailed creature was not particularly imposing in stature, measuring approximately six meters at the withers and a length of thirty-five meters from the tips of its tails to the tip of its nose. Fortunately, the forthcoming battleground, where Iolanthe intended to engage in combat, extended to a diameter of approximately seven hundred meters. It was evident that they had employed spatial magic here, magically amplifying the interior.
As we were left behind and Iolanthe advanced, she uttered a call, a request, an address. I was unable to discern what it was precisely. I could not recognize her words, nor even with my special connection to the infopole of the world could I identify the language in which Iolanthe spoke. Judging from the sensations experienced by all those who heard Iolantha's speech, myself included, it was a language of the dead. Not the tongue of a civilization that had faded into oblivion, but the literal Language of the Dead itself!
Iolanthe's recitative was a mesmerizing performance, and it was difficult to resist the allure of her voice. However, as soon as Peverell ceased speaking, a potent necrotic energy barrier sprang up around the circular area in the center of the hall that my vassals and I had avoided entering. This shield protected us from both Iolanthe and the nine-tailed fox, and I examined the barrier with my spiritual sight, realizing that it would require significant effort to breach it. Even then, the prospect of success seemed slim.
After Iolanthe's performance, a fierce desire welled up within me, and when the barrier finally fell, I was consumed by the urge to confront her and make her husband and suzerain worry for her safety. As the dividing line materialized, Marcus was among the first to cross it, anxiously observing his wife as she slowly approached the fox.
The moment I felt the impulse to rebuke the impudent individual, it was swiftly extinguished by the overwhelming awe we experienced upon witnessing what lay beyond the barrier. Instead of encountering a crazed nine-tailed fox and my vassal, Iolanthe Peverell — nay, a creature of pure terror cowered on the other side, trembling in the presence of death itself. I had beheld the embodiment of death, manifested through the form of Iolanthe, entering our realm. AHRENETTE!
Now I comprehend the purpose of this barrier, which was not erected to impede our passage but to safeguard us and our world from the potent essence of death embodied by Morena. The grandmother answered her granddaughter's summons and chose to intervene personally, aiming to eradicate the grotesque and deformed representation of death embodied in the kitsune, who had insulted Morena through her appearance and powers.
The appearance of Kitsune, once repulsive and repugnant, now took on a pitiable aspect. She cowered, attempting to conceal herself from the impending death with her tails. With each step Morena took towards her, the fur, skin, and muscles of the nine-tailed fox began to peel away, revealing the skeletal remains of the once formidable creature. When Iolanthe stood before the remains, she was confronted with the stark reality of death.
The scene was nothing short of epic. Iolanthe, a diminutive figure, exuded a power beyond comprehension. Her hair billowed in the air, as if sustained by gusts of powerful winds. A cocoon of power, the color of ash, enveloped her body, tainting everything it touched. Before her stood a massive pile of bones, emanating a putrid green glow.
For a brief moment, perhaps a few seconds, the embodiment of death gazed at the fox with its expressionless eyes. Then, it extended its hand and caressed the skull of the creature. In the precise instant, the spirit of the kitsune was extracted from the skeleton of the nine-tailed beast, which «Iolanta» appeared to absorb through a conduit, drawing it into herself.
The bones of the nine tails, no longer sustained by magic, promptly collapsed to the floor in a towering, disordered heap. However, this was not the conclusion of the spectacle we observed with bated breath. After absorbing the spirit of Kitsune, Iolanta maintained her stance, standing before the pile of bones. A minute later, she once again extended her hand, touching the skull of the nine-tailed creature at her feet.
Immediately following this action, fog began to envelop the bones and surrounding area, obscuring our view of the unfolding events.
But when the mist dissipated after a few moments and the necrotic veil fell away, we beheld Iolanthe, before whom sat the skeletal form of a nine-tailed entity, now emanating a bluish-gray radiance, no longer the putrid green of before.
"Iolanthe, is that you?" Marcus hastened towards her with an inquiry, but paused a few paces short of her. He was not the only one to have become aware of what had transpired recently.
"Yes!!!" As if emerging from a trance, Lady Peverell responded, and with that she flung herself into her husband's embrace. "I have communicated with my ancestress! Can you believe it?!" Iolanthe began to exclaim her delight. "And she even commended me! For being a strong sovereign, for being a worthy husband, for ensuring that her line of blood and magick was not broken in this world! That is all!"
It is a great relief to know that I have been granted permission to assume the role of one who will now look after Morena, the progenitor of the Peverell line. Today's performance brought me a sense of accomplishment, as I felt the echoes of a small power that has broken through the shackles of death. On this clear day, I realized that I am but a mere speck in the presence of such immense power. I was elated to hear the approval from the very lips of death, affirming my role in this endeavor.
Moreover, I was elated to witness the arrival of our divine regiment! As soon as the necrotic barrier was breached, I employed my spiritual sight to observe the nascent ninth soul shell of Iolanthe, as well as the master-familial bond that had formed between Peverell and the skeletal nine-tailed entity.
By the by, this was not merely a necromantic construct but a fully fledged undead creature with a nine-tailed spirit, which had undergone a transformation after being assimilated by Iolanthe. Upon its return to its skeletal form, it underwent significant changes, becoming significantly more powerful than its previous state. This undead entity now possessed three times the strength of its master, and only half the power of mine.
Of course, once Peverell acquires the ninth soul shell, which may take a decade or more, she will surpass even her own surname. However, for now, Iolanthe remains inferior to her newfound surname.
"Well, that is all well and good, but is it not time for us to ascend further?" Alfonso could not contain his eagerness to set forth, eager to encounter new and formidable adversaries with whom he might engage in combat. It was manifest in every quivering motion of his frame.
"Come now, there is nothing further to be done on this level." I concurred with my sibling, for there was no reason for us to linger any longer. The level was devoid of any activity, save for the stairwell at the far end of the chamber, leading upwards, which held our fascination and drew our attention.
Once again, we found ourselves ascending the stairs for the second time that day. Surprisingly, this time there were no unexpected encounters along the way. The climb was not lengthy, and within five minutes we were on the ground floor, which resembled the lower hall, with a spacious open area. In the center of this space, on a pedestal, lay a bed, and on it reclined a kitsune in her anthropomorphic form.
The kitsune cast a disdainful glance in our direction, puffing on a long pipe. However, the illusion she projected to the world around her painted a different picture.
"Brother, let me engage her!" Alfonso exclaimed, as if fearful of being left behind as merely a spectator once again. He was eager to participate in the confrontation and put his Archimage staff to the test.
I gestured forward, granting my friend permission to approach, cautioning him to be cautious. "Proceed with caution. She is adept at manipulating illusions and affecting the minds of others."
Thanks to my innate talent and my serpentine nature, I was the sole one who could discern the Kitsune's self-imposed illusion without resorting to any deceptions. However, my wives and May required the application of specialized techniques to perceive the creature's true form, allowing them to pierce through the veil of illusion.
As for the witches, while they were unable to shatter the illusion that transformed the nine-tailed fox, they were nevertheless capable of detecting the presence of a false kitsune and recognizing that it was not her true appearance. Following the lead of my wife, they swiftly adopted her approach, employing their own methods to penetrate the illusory barrier.
Upon observing Alfonso as he approached the entity concealed beneath the guise of a charming young fox girl no older than five, I was once again struck by the sense that the cosmos itself seemed to be conspiring in my favour.
What am I speaking of? I had recently been contemplating the idea of seeking formidable adversaries for my vassals, so that they might fully realize their abilities and test their mettle in a fierce battle. And then, like a stroke of fate, a delegation from China presented itself, bringing with them a problem of Fae-kitsune on their homeland.
As my knights and I arrived at this location, it seemed as if by design — a series of nine-tailed beings who did not even consider ambushing, who did not require pursuit, who were content to await their opponent without engaging the entire pack. These creatures did not even contemplate concealment or a coordinated attack against us.. On the following seven storeys above, we shall also await the presence of the nine-tailed foxes, who will be positioned in the center of the chamber, awaiting their own fate. It is a remarkable sight, akin to a scene from a low-budget fantasy novel, where all elements converge to serve the protagonist's convenience, without any personal effort on their part.
However, we will reflect on these aspects later; for now, our priority is to ensure Alfonso's safety. This particular fox, at least one and a half times more powerful than the creature that Iolanthe once subdued and transformed into an undead servant, has proven itself capable of altering its size and creating illusions. As a result, Iolanthe now finds herself facing a nine-tailed creature no taller than her knees, who, without the aid of specialized spells, cannot be discerned as undead.
Returning to the impending confrontation, Alfonso took the lead in action. It was not surprising, as any well-versed demonologist would strike first. My brother invoked the spell of Solomon's Armor, derived from the Jewish tradition of magic, granting him a heightened state of awareness, rendering him impervious to deception in any form.
This enchantment not only shielded him from being misled visually but also mitigated the effects of spells infused with dark energies, potentially nullifying them entirely.
The moment Alfonso cast the illusionary armor spell at the kitsune, she realized that her attempts to deceive my friend with illusions were futile. She was about to spring from her bed to attack my twin when Marduk's Sekir spell fell upon the nine-tailed creature, accompanied by a heart-rending shriek. This shriek, far from being metaphorical, was a literal manifestation of the mental anguish inflicted upon the three tails of the kitsune that Alfonso had severed with his spell.
The mental agony caused by the shriek not only affected the hearing but also penetrated the mental and astral bodies of those affected, except for those who possessed multiple layers of protection, such as myself and others in the vicinity.
All these events — the casting of the spell of armour, the intent to act — flashed through Kitsune's mind in the blink of an eye, and the axe, which fell upon her and which she could not evade, resulting in the loss of three tails, occurred in less than a moment. Only my apprentices failed to perceive anything, while the rest of us followed the events without any difficulty.
But Alfonso did not desist from his onslaught, and no sooner had the Kitsune emitted a shriek than his anti-daemon chain, having come loose from my brother's grasp, rushed towards it, and in an instant coiled itself around the screeching creature, binding its limbs together, transforming the fox into something more akin to a caterpillar than one of the Hounds. To everyone's delight, the noise ceased. It was due to the chain encircling its head, having crushed the fox's lower jaw in the process, pulverizing it into dust. It was an unappetizing sight. However, no one was able to be affected by such a spectacle, and Alfonso derived almost sexual pleasure from the suffering of the bound Kitsune. He was a true sadist.
For five minutes, Alfonso remained motionless, hovering over the chained and moaning nine-tailed creature at his feet, savoring the moment. A depraved individual, and I was not the only one to think so.
"What does my daughter see in him?" Witold lamented his sorrow. "He is the father of my grandchildren."
"Alfonso, conclude the matter," I urged my brother as the archmage's staff pierced through the chest of the nine-tailed maiden, depriving her of her spirit. The chain had been wrapped around its prey, extracting its essence from the fox, rendering it incapable of resistance when the staff finally struck.
Ha! Two floors descended, with seven more to conquer. Forward, then!
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