Chapter 11 : Fox, Fox, What are you doing ? (2)

“So… you’re saying… you were a god… in heaven…?”

“[Indeed.]”

‘Indeed’ my foot. Dante rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on. What was this fox babbling about? Had it starved so long it’d gone delusional?

Grimacing, he mentally summarized the fox’s story:

The white fox claimed to be Yeonhwa, a powerful deity, guardian of the legendary Banya Empire, a land said to be a convergence of all mystical energies. The name “Yeonhwa” was certainly unusual for this region. She’d apparently resided in the celestial realm, receiving the prayers and devotion of mortals, until she committed a grave sin, was stripped of her divinity, and banished to the mortal realm in the form of a lowly beast.

Life on earth was harsh for the pampered fox goddess. White foxes were rare and valuable, dead or alive. She’d been hunted relentlessly, barely escaping the clutches of humans and their hounds. After days of fleeing, she’d collapsed from exhaustion, only to be miraculously found by Dante.

──Hence, the current situation.

Dante looked at the fox sympathetically. ‘She looks fine, but she must have been through a lot… Poor thing…’

“[Don’t look at me with such pity, child. This is my own fault. A consequence of my actions. Live and learn, I suppose.]” Yeonhwa spoke with a resigned air, apparently mistaking his concern for pity. “[I was so weary and distraught… your kindness… I spoke without thinking. Forget what I said.]”

“Oh…” Dante winced internally. He’d been quite startled by the sudden “keep me” demand.

Yeonhwa smiled wryly, nudging his knee with a paw. “[I apologize if I alarmed you.]” Her voice was gentle, refined.

‘…She’s definitely not all there. This is beyond delusional; it’s a full-blown medical condition.’ He shook his head, marveling at her commitment to the act. ‘Best not to provoke a crazy person. Just play along.’

“No, no, no need to apologize… Um, if you don’t mind me asking… what are your plans now?” he asked politely, though he really didn’t want to know.

“[I’ll find a suitable place to stay. Fortunately, this forest doesn’t seem to have any dangerous monsters, so it should be safer than other places.]”

“That’s true…” Dante nodded, then started gathering his belongings. He had a strong feeling that further entanglement would lead to nothing good.

Yeonhwa watched him with a wistful smile. “[Such a kind child… a rarity these days. If I weren’t in this form, I would pat your head… What a shame.]”

Ignoring her, Dante continued packing, focused solely on escaping this bizarre encounter. Bags in hand, he bowed slightly.

“Well then, I’ll be going…”

“[I will never forget your kindness. Go quickly, before nightfall.]”

Just as he turned to leave…

Boom! Crash!

“…Huh?”

Downpour!

Thunder rumbled, and the sky opened up, unleashing a torrential downpour. Within seconds, they were both soaked.

“…Well, this is just great.”

An awkward silence hung in the air as Dante pushed his wet hair out of his eyes. “…Want to come with me?” He couldn’t leave a delusional talking fox in this downpour.

Splash! Splash!

Tucking the fox into his shirt, Dante sprinted back to the castle.

Thump!

“Huff… huff…” He dropped his bags, panting. Water dripped from his clothes, forming a puddle on the floor.

‘Damn it, I just cleaned!’ He mentally groaned.

“[Child, what is this place? A magnificent castle. Are you a prince, perhaps?]”

“Ahaha… I wish… You’re way off. I’m just a lowly servant here. A s*ave, to be precise.”

“[Is that so?]” Yeonhwa’s response was flat.

Dante chuckled wryly. “Well, technically a s*ave, but… not really treated like one.”

“[So, your master is virtuous?]”

‘Virtuous? She’s more like a tyrannical dictator.’ He simply smiled, unable to voice his true thoughts.

“Oh, right. I’ll get you a towel. Wait here.”

“[You’ve shared your food, sheltered me from the rain… I am truly grateful, child.]”

“──Dante.” He grinned, taking off his wet shoes and socks. “Call me Dante, Yeonhwa.”

He hurried off, leaving Yeonhwa to ponder his name. ‘Dante… Dante…’

“[…A pleasant sound.]”

“Achoo! Brrr… So cold…” Dante shivered, rubbing his arms. He’d grabbed a few towels and was heading back to the entrance hall. Walking down the red-carpeted hallway, he looked around.

“Where’s Olivia…?” He’d expected her to be waiting, ready to scold him for being late.

“Is she sleeping?”

“I’m not sleeping, you idiot!”

“Whoa! Damn it! You scared me!”

“Don’t be dramatic. Did you think I’d be sleeping while you were still out there?” Olivia stood behind him, frowning.

Dante clutched his chest. “I’ll sue you for emotional distress.”

“Shut up! And stop trying to guilt-trip me.”

“Whatever…” He rolled his eyes, then shivered again.

“You’re such a klutz… I told you to come straight back. Why are you so late? I was worried sick.”

“How was I supposed to know it was going to rain…?”

Olivia snatched the towels from his hands and began drying his hair and clothes.

“I can do it myself…”

“This is your punishment for disobeying me. How dare you ignore your master’s orders?”

“Shut up… Ow! Why did you bite me?!”

“Talk. Why are you late? What were you doing?” She growled, baring her fangs near his neck. Seeing the barely suppressed anger in her eyes, he relented.

“…I found a… sick fox… starving… so I gave it some food…”

“…You didn’t follow some blond foreigner?”

“No! Of course not!” ‘What do you take me for?!’

“It looked like it was about to die… I couldn’t just leave it…”

“…You and your innocent heart…” Olivia sighed, shaking her head. She knew this wasn’t the first time Dante had rescued an animal. “So, you brought it back?”

“Yeah, the rain was so heavy… I thought it might catch a cold and die.”

“…I see.”

“Can we… keep it for a while?”

Olivia knew the real reason Dante was so drawn to helpless creatures. She couldn’t refuse.

‘Damn love.’ She said curtly, “…Whatever.”

──Much later, Olivia would reflect on this day and say, ‘I should have knocked him out and dragged him back, even if I had to use a brick. I am such a fool. Why did I let that conniving fox anywhere near him?!’

‘Ugh, so much regret. Die, past self!’