Chapter 85 Fox
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
I sat on the veranda, side-by-side with Ichika, waiting for her to start speaking as we gazed at the crimson sky.
”So… I suppose I should start by telling you about my village, degozaru.”
With that, Ichika began to look back on her past.
”My village had strong ties to folk beliefs. Among those born there, certain traits… if one was adorned in gold, they were considered an avatar of the deity we worshipped, degozaru.”
She turned her face towards me as she spoke, her golden eyes locking onto mine. Looking back up at the sky, her gaze distant, Ichika’s voice was strangely inorganic. I could tell she was unable to express the emotions she held within.
”Born under such circumstances, I was revered as an avatar of the deity due to my physical characteristics, and the role was thrust upon me. Because I was a likeness of the god, I received a high-level education in the village and was expected to serve as the deity’s vessel in rituals like festivals.”
There was no nostalgia in her voice. Her detached recounting of the past felt somehow painful, suggesting she hadn’t fully processed it.
”I desperately tried to meet the expectations of my village’s people. My days were filled with lessons in academics, history, and Kagura dance—I had no free time. Fortunately, the village united in my upbringing, providing me with food and clothing so I wouldn’t starve as I grew.”
I wondered if she realized the playful tone had completely vanished from her voice.
”As the village’s expectations grew, there was someone who directed malice towards me… that person was my mother.”
At those words, I was struck silent, yet I also understood. The reason she wasn’t accustomed to receiving affection was likely because she never received it from the one person who should have given it most—her parent.
”Perhaps my mother resented me, or perhaps she was jealous that I was the focus of the village’s expectations… I don’t know which. But it’s certain she harbored ill will towards me. She’d serve me rotten vegetables, interfere with my studies despite her own lack of knowledge, and if I tried to resist, she’d lock me in a dark storage room and punish me. She was a petty, ordinary, weak woman.”
Ichika spoke of her past and her mother’s actions as if they were someone else’s story. I had wondered if her dislike for vegetables had a specific reason, but now I understood. She said she hated the taste of raw vegetables, but perhaps it was because eating them forced her to confront that past. Though I didn’t know it at the time, I had made her endure cruel things.
”The more I was expected to do, the more I met those expectations, the heavier my mother’s jealousy became. Fortunately, she received enough food from the village that she wouldn’t face hardship as long as she didn’t live extravagantly. And she had enough sense to know that if I appeared unhealthy, I might be taken away from her. That was her salvation… I ate more than just rotten vegetables, so it was difficult, but I managed to survive.”
I gently took Ichika’s hand. I could feel the tremor from her excessive grip, her nails digging into her own palm.
”Eventually, it was decided that I would be entrusted to the Torakuma [T/N: Female] family’s dark side to undergo rigorous ninja training. Finally, I could escape that mother—that was all I felt…”
Another hand rested on the one I held. It gripped mine tightly, as if suppressing a surge of emotion.
”The night before I left the village, someone broke into my room. My mother intended to sell me and have another child with a similar appearance! The village chief… he… he forced himself on me!! It was disgusting! I managed to escape using a curse, but the places he touched still feel disgusting!!”
Ichika’s voice filled with emotion as she recounted her past. Seeing her break down, I knew simply holding her hand wasn’t enough. I pulled her into an embrace. Ichika wrapped her arms around my back and clung to me fiercely.
”That woman! That woman who called herself my mother, she sold her body because she couldn’t work due to her lack of education! My appearance was in demand, and she had plenty of customers!! But as I grew older, she couldn’t stand her own aging! She took out her frustration on me, and in the end, she tried to make me take clients!! Why? I could feed her with the food I brought in, so why did she need more!? Why couldn’t she live within her means!?”
As I held her, accepting the torrent of emotions pouring out, I stroked her head. I felt an urge to let her release all the feelings she’d been holding onto, lest her heart break completely. I gently patted her back, matching her heartbeat, much like I had done for Ethelena once.
Ichika could no longer speak, only sobbing. Her experiences of betrayal and being sold made her rational mind reject the parental affection she unconsciously sought.
*So, Ichika was just a child who craved family love, just like me.* Her constant testing behavior must have stemmed from her fear of trusting people, using her catchphrases to push them away. Yet, she observed those who approached her, seeking someone she could believe in. It must have been fate’s cruel joke that she found that in me.
I continued to hold her until her sobs subsided, gently patting her back in a steady rhythm. Perhaps mimicking the way one soothes a baby, Ichika’s cries grew quieter.
”…After I fled my village and arrived at the Torakuma [T/N: Female] residence—degozaru.”
Her heart seemingly calmed, Ichika’s voice returned to its usual ‘gozaru’ cadence as she resumed her story.
”The Acting Head, strict yet fair, and the Okusama, gentle but formidable when angered, became the first proper parental figures I’d had since leaving my village.”
She spoke while burying her face in my chest, occasionally nuzzling or sniffing my scent, perhaps trying to gauge my emotional state. It was strange how I could discern this.
”And so, I joined the Torakuma [T/N: Female] family’s Onmitsu as a ninja-in-training. The techniques I learned there were novel, and I enjoyed learning them. After mastering everything that didn’t require waiting for my body to mature, I was to be taught new techniques, degozaru.”
Ichika paused, then seemed to struggle before speaking with resolve.
”Bōjūjutsu… techniques for extracting information more easily in bed, degozaru.”
”Oh, how cliché…”
I couldn’t help but blurt out my reaction to her words. Ichika chuckled softly, agreeing with me.
”Truly, it’s cliché, degozaru. However, it’s self-evident that intimate words exchanged in bed can significantly lower someone’s guard. That’s why the head of the family ordered me to learn those arts, degozaru.”
It was a cruel fate for Ichika, who had nearly been violated by the head of her birth village. Was he that heartless, or did he not know? She wouldn’t speak of such a painful memory willingly. Judging by her outburst earlier, speaking of it would likely trigger a flashback. Even now, it was difficult for her; I could only imagine the burden her past had placed on her heart.
”As a young child, I was taught these things by the older disciple sisters without understanding. Daily routines of intimate training, my body being prepared for men’s convenience, including practices that reshaped my physical form.”
Listening to her, I felt a sense of unbearable discomfort. It reminded me of interviewing people for adult videos in my past life—a truly awkward feeling. Thankfully, my lower body hadn’t reacted yet.
”Then one day, I was ordered to actually experience it…”
”Ichika, if it’s too painful, you can stop there.”
”I escaped using all my ninjutsu and curse abilities, degozaru.”
”You’re strong.”
She had boasted of being a virgin, but was it true? Before, I’d doubted it, given her beauty and figure. But now, seeing her personality and skills, I understood she had genuinely spent her life running away. She fought to remain untouched.
Even now, I could almost feel her smug grin against my chest. Somehow, it was comforting to see her back to her usual teasing self. When I sighed in quiet relief, Ichika tightened her arms around me as if she didn’t want to let go.
”Still,” she murmured, “this body that was remade for indecency… it remembers the ache. Every night I had to ease it myself, soaking my pillow and sheets. And when fear kept me from men, I turned to women instead.”
”Uh… maybe you could tone that down a little,” I said awkwardly.
”Mm, but it’s just getting interesting—ah! Wait, stop, that hurts! I’m sorry! Really, I’m sorry! It was my fault, please don’t do that again, degozaru!”
The way she flinched made me wonder if the flick I gave her last time had scarred her more than I thought. When I lifted my hand again, just to tease her, she panicked and started apologizing in a rush.
”Foolish fox,” I said, “your playful side isn’t bad, but maybe save it until after the serious part, alright?”
She gave a small, pitiful whine. “Kyun… but isn’t it unfair? Gods like me can’t stand staying serious for too long, so we joke to survive, degozaru…”
She wasn’t wrong. It’s hard to keep talking about painful things for long stretches. But even so, she had crossed a wall today—opened up—and I didn’t want her to run from that.
”There was no paradise waiting for me when I ran,” she went on quietly. “Where I ended up, I met Jii-sama, degozaru.”
I couldn’t help muttering, “Don’t throw in a line straight out of a branded swordsman drama.” Still, hearing that name caught my attention. So her mentor appears now. From the way she spoke of him before, I’d already guessed they went way back, but it’s clear now—he became one of the few precious memories that still protect her heart. I’m almost jealous.
”Jii-sama took me in,” she said softly, “and sent a letter to the Acting Head of the Family while I trained alone. He showed me many weapons, taught me how to use them. After several years, word came for me to return—the Onmitsu Corps was being dissolved. The reason: even though we called it espionage, what we’d been doing was no better than child prostitution. It had become a routine, something accepted. When Jii-sama told the Acting Head what I’d endured, she was furious. That was right around the time Lady Yohira was born… maybe that timing was a kind of miracle, degozaru.”
I nodded slowly. If I had a daughter around that age, I’d feel the same disgust. Maybe the old system had its logic, but the reform was the right choice.
”The reorganized Onmitsu Corps,” Ichika continued, “decided to redirect its knowledge toward new kinds of intelligence work, degozaru.”
”That’s impressive,” I said. “But could you really pull that off?”
”It’s not about whether we can,” she said firmly. “We must. That’s what it means to be Onmitsu, degozaru.”
Her sudden seriousness threw me off for a second. It was… oddly professional coming from her.
”So then, master,” she asked playfully, “if you had to gather information, how would you do it, degozaru?”
”Well,” I said, thinking, “I’d probably open a tavern. A place where travelers talk freely over drinks. You could pick up all kinds of rumors that way.”
”That would be noisy, but effective,” she nodded. “You’d cover a wide area of information, degozaru.”
A classic strategy, sure, but not an easy one. Running a tavern takes both money and time. You’d have to blend into the community and hire locals to gain their trust, which makes secrecy harder. And even then, you’d only get scraps—gossip at best. For real intelligence, you’d need analysts to cross-check every bit of rumor. Honestly, it’d be easier to infiltrate a government office or become a secretary to a foreign dignitary.
”Anyway,” she said, “we tried many things to build a new network. Long-term infiltration, secret message runs… even kunoichi who lacked real ninja skill were ordered to use their bodies for intel, degozaru.”
”…Wait,” I frowned, “so kunoichi and female ninja aren’t the same thing?”
”Not exactly,” she said. “Kunoichi couldn’t use ninjutsu. They specialized only in the bedroom arts. Under the old regime, every woman had to learn them, whether she liked it or not. That meant being treated like a courtesan. But I had talent in ninjutsu, so I could argue my way out of that fate, degozaru.”
Listening to her, I couldn’t help thinking the old Onmitsu Corps sounded like something straight out of an adult game. Still, her words carried a quiet bitterness that made it hard to laugh.
These days, Whirlwind—the city we live in—is remarkably peaceful. There are gangs and shady groups, but none bold enough to act openly. The vigilante corps are skilled and well-equipped, and since Ichika’s been staying with me, no one dares to make a move. Someone’s probably keeping an eye on us, sure, but it’s safe enough. The Judicial Department likely assigned bodyguards with similar skills to mine, and on top of that, Calmys-san made sure the War God Church watches over us. Anyone familiar with that church’s wrath wouldn’t risk provoking them. Not that I’d worry—if anyone did try, Ethelena and Yohira could handle themselves. Still… this world was born from an adult game, so you never know.
”When the reorganization ended,” Ichika said, “I was finally allowed to study advanced techniques again. Before long, they started calling me a prodigy. Older members tried to cozy up to me, hoping to secure their own positions later. Their shallow ambition was disgusting, degozaru. Around that time, I noticed something odd—some very capable members had no ranks at all.”
So that’s why she calls herself a “foolish fox.” She doesn’t want the weight of expectations anymore. Her nature is kind; she can’t stop trying to meet others’ hopes, even when it hurts her.
Still, why would talented people be left without positions? Was it their personality? Their behavior? Or maybe… something to do with how they spoke?
”I came from a closed village,” Ichika said, “so I didn’t know what kind of actions made people dislike me. To learn, I watched those who were hated. And during that time, I discovered dialects, degozaru.”
”So your weird speech patterns started from that, huh…”
I couldn’t help wondering what the dialects in Hizuru sound like. If pop culture shaped them, they must be something wild.
”The effect was immediate,” she said proudly. “The old geezers training me all backed off at once, degozaru.”
”Uh… you don’t think they just felt guilty for pushing you too hard?”
”That’s nonsense, degozaru! Though, yes, every time we met after that, they gave me sweets and dumplings…”
”Yeah, that’s the face of old men realizing they broke their granddaughter’s heart.”
They were probably decent people, the kind who regretted too late. I bet when Ichika was a child, they tried grooming her as the next leader, but ended up overburdening her. Realizing what they’d done must have hit hard.
”So,” she finished quietly, “I was freed from the title of heir and allowed to work however I pleased, degozaru.”
It was probably because of the Onmitsu Corps that the Acting Head of the Family didn’t stop Ichika from coming to live here. Someone with her skill—a guaranteed next clan head, carrying techniques vital to the nation—should have been impossible to let go. The only explanation was that Ichika herself held no loyalty to the Torakuma lands anymore. Killing her would cause too much damage, so they let her go instead.
”It was around that time,” she said softly, “that I met Hinagiku, degozaru.”
”So after leaving the Onmitsu Corps, you ended up helping the royal guard instead? You’ve had it rough.”
”I never joined formally,” she admitted, “but I took on a few missions with them, and that was my downfall. Hinagiku was the same age and full of energy—an amusing friend at first, until she became someone I couldn’t live without, degozaru.”
It reminded me of my own bond with that idiot friend of mine. We started out fighting, but somehow ended up calling each other best friends. Maybe it’s always like that—pain first, then trust.
Maybe the Acting Head arranged Hinagiku’s unit knowing Ichika would follow, ensuring she’d have someone she could trust. It would fit her kind of foresight.
”Master,” Ichika said at last, “that is my past. A life spent as a tool, used and nearly broken. I don’t even know if I can truly trust men, degozaru.”
”I see… yeah,” I murmured.
Hearing all of it didn’t change anything. She would still stay here—if she wanted to, that is.
”Can I ask you something again?” I said quietly.
”What is it, degozaru?”
”Do you still want to stay in this house?”
My voice trembled a little. Just imagining her leaving made my chest tighten. Ichika held me tighter before answering.
”Until this body crumbles, until my soul fades and I no longer exist,” she whispered, “please keep me by your side.”
Her voice carried too many emotions to name.
”I’ll be honest,” I said softly. “I’m not good at loving more than one person.”
”I know,” she replied.
”My heart still belongs to Ethelena. If it ever came down to choosing, I’d choose her without hesitation.”
”I know.”
”There will be moments when I’ll neglect you.”
”I’m prepared for that.”
”There might be times when I… lose control. When I might want you the way the village chief once did.”
”If that day comes,” she said, “I’ll offer myself willingly.”
”Please,” I begged, “value yourself.”
”I do,” she said gently. “That’s why I can give myself to you.”
Her arms tightened around me, and I held her just as firmly in return.
”…As your master,” I said after a moment, “I still have so many flaws. I’m childish, clumsy, and I’ll probably trouble you often. But if you can accept that—”
”That’s exactly why I love you,” she interrupted softly.
She loosened her embrace and looked up, meeting my eyes. Her golden gaze locked with mine—and then her body began to change. The dark brown fur of her ears and tail turned to a glowing amber gold. Her tails multiplied, fanning out behind her like living fire. Her skin paled slightly, but her eyes stayed the same.
A white-faced, golden-furred nine-tailed fox—one of the three great youkai of legend, said to wield immense power and beauty enough to ruin empires. That was what Ichika truly was.
”…You did say you wanted help taking care of your tails,” I said. “But this might take an hour at least.”
Of all things to say in that moment, that was what came out. I really am an idiot.
”Are you not afraid?” she asked quietly.
”Honestly? Not really. Maybe your people feared you, but here we don’t have those customs or legends. I know you’re beautiful—but the tails don’t scare me.”
”You really are strange,” she said with a faint smile.
Her smile softened the air around us. She knew what I meant—there were no records of nine-tailed fox spirits in Whirlwind’s libraries, no legends of fox-born demons. Whatever she was, it wouldn’t make her an outcast here.
Then, Ichika knelt before me, straightening her posture. I mirrored her without thinking, sitting formally across from her.
”Allow me to introduce myself properly,” she said. “My name is Ichika. I was born in a small village within the Torakuma lands of Hizuru. I have little education, only some skill in ninjutsu and curses to my name. But if you’ll have me… please accept me as one of your wives.”
She bowed deeply. I hesitated. “As one of my wives,” huh. Could that really make her happy?
”Are you sure?” I asked. “It sounds like you’re just saying what I want to hear.”
”It’s fine,” she said calmly. “Because I’m the one choosing to step into your life.”
She answered instantly. Why are all the women around me so strong?
”As I said before,” I told her, “Ethelena will always be the one I love most.”
”Yes,” she said. “I understand.”
”I might use you, the way people in your village once did.”
”If that’s what you fear, then don’t. I know you won’t.”
”There might be times when I reach for you, because I can’t have Ethelena.”
”As I said earlier,” she whispered, “I’ll gladly give myself to you.”
”I’ll probably rely on your cooking too much.”
”Please do,” she said warmly. “Sharing my food with you is my happiest time.”
Somehow, that last part made her sound genuinely joyful.
”…Then, Ichika,” I said, “live with me—and die with me.”
”Yes,” she answered simply.
I couldn’t find the words to dissuade her. When I made the heaviest request I could think of, she accepted it without a hint of hesitation.
”Then, my master,” she said, “place a shackle on me.”
”…A shackle?” I blinked.
I didn’t understand what she meant at first. I knew she’d never betray me, so what kind of “proof” was she asking for?
”Please give me something that shows I belong to you,” she said.
I thought for a while. When we’d made matching accessories for the party before, there was one extra left—a red choker with a silver charm.
”…Will this do?” I asked.
When I held it up, Ichika’s face lit up. She lifted her hair and bared her neck for me. I fastened it carefully. The charm glinted like a name tag, giving her a slightly pet-like look that somehow felt too fitting.
While I was still adjusting it, she leaned in and kissed me. The first time, in the forge, it had been to snap me out of shock—but this one felt different. This was a vow.
”I give you everything I am,” she whispered. “I won’t ask for all of you in return. Just let me stay by your side until my life ends.”
”…Alright,” I said quietly.
I pulled her close again. She held me just as tightly, and in that closeness I finally caught her scent. It was like sunlight—warm and gentle.
”…I should start making dinner,” I said after a while.
”Yes, degozaru,” she said with a small smile. “Let me help, master.”
”Got it.”
Her speech slipped back to her usual playful tone. Maybe that way of talking helped ease her heart.
Now then, what should I make? We’d had fish for both breakfast and lunch—another round might bore her. Then again, the forging work was done, and I could finally serve some drinks. Maybe a fish dinner would actually be welcome.
”Master,” Ichika called suddenly.
I turned around. The moon had risen without me noticing, bathing her in silver light. She smiled at me, soft and serene.
Later, we stood side by side in the kitchen. She’d turned her fur back to its usual dark brown, saying the gold reflected too much light for her eyes. We’d ease her back into it slowly, she said.
For dinner, we decided on gratin, using leftover vegetables from the fridge. Some had started to go bad, so prep took longer than usual. I trimmed away the spoiled parts while Ichika watched nervously, and when she saw me discard them without hesitation, she finally relaxed.
The gratin used potatoes, onions, broccoli, and corn, with salmon in place of meat. I’d wanted to add spinach and mushrooms too, but the fridge was empty of both. For the record, I made the white sauce myself—nothing fancy, just the classic way.
Ichika handled the soup: a pot-au-feu filled with the same vegetables as the gratin, plus cabbage. Her twist was a touch of miso in the broth, which gave it a warm, subtle depth that felt very her.
”Master,” she asked as we worked, “when will you tell Lady Ethelena, degozaru?”
”Not right away,” I said. “Maybe after dinner. Worst case, when we take a bath.”
We always bathed together—if we didn’t, both Ethelena and I would go half-mad from pent-up desire. Our teacher had even joked, “Don’t mind me, go take care of each other first,” so… I decided to take the advice.
”Also,” Ichika said, “until Lady Ethelena becomes pregnant, I’ll abstain from any intimacy, degozaru.”
”That… actually helps,” I admitted.
”Unlike you and Lady Ethelena, I don’t have the ‘Sex Sorcery’ skill, degozaru. Rumor says your endowment is monstrous, master. I’d rather train and convert one of my techniques into a ‘Sex Sorcery’ first, degozaru.”
I coughed lightly. Well, she wasn’t wrong—succubi are built for that sort of thing, perfectly adapted. But a nine-tailed fox? Who knew how compatible her kind was? Even great youkai might not excel in… that field.
”By the way,” I said, “I never did ask—what exactly is this being you were said to resemble? You’ve mentioned being a reflection of a god, but what does that actually mean?”
She tilted her head thoughtfully. “As a reflection, I was said to resemble the great youkai called the White-Faced, Golden-Furred Nine-Tailed Fox. A spirit feared for curses and cunning, but also known for a grand romance with one man—and for bearing many children, degozaru.”
”…A grand romance?”
”A grand romance,” she repeated earnestly.
My brain short-circuited for a moment. Of all things, that was not the answer I expected.
”They say,” she continued, “that after causing trouble in the capital, she was driven out by a samurai blessed by the gods. Wounded and dying, she was found by a simple young farmer who took her in, degozaru.”
”…Do foxes have some kind of cosmic fate to be rescued when near death?” I muttered.
She smiled faintly. “Considering you picked me up when I was on the verge of dying and made me your bride, it’s not an entirely foolish thought, degozaru.”
That made me pause. Maybe if I’d walked away that day, something awful would’ve come back to haunt me.
”After that,” Ichika went on, “the fox settled into the farmer’s life, helping in the fields until she grew fond of it. Then one day she pounced on the poor man, conceived his child, and forced him to marry her, degozaru.”
”…That’s one aggressive love story.”
”Indeed,” she said, amused. “And afterward, she bore nearly twenty children, lived about a hundred years with her husband, and died peacefully surrounded by her descendants, degozaru.”
”That’s… a lot.”
”She passed away surrounded by children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren—even great-great-grandchildren. And apparently her cries of passion were so loud that the entire village started having babies at the same time.”
”…That’s a terrible legend.”
”They called her ‘the mating fox,’ degozaru.”
”Even worse.”
”Because of that, she was later worshipped as a goddess of fertility, degozaru.”
”The origin story could’ve been… better.”
Maybe that story had influenced the village chief who once tried to force himself on Ichika. If so, it made a grim kind of sense. Still, you’d think the curses alone would’ve been enough to kill him. Maybe her allure simply outweighed the risk.
”What’s wrong, master?” she asked suddenly. “Are you worried that when I was young and impossibly beautiful, the men in the village looked at me that way, degozaru?”
”…Honestly,” I admitted, “you probably would have been. Powerless, young, and beautiful—it’s a miracle you survived untouched.”
”Kyuuun… hearing you call me beautiful so directly is embarrassing, degozaru,” she murmured, flattening her ears.
She looked so adorable that I couldn’t resist patting her head. She leaned into the touch like a pet. Not exactly how one should treat someone who just confessed her love—but she didn’t seem to mind.
”I’m home!” a cheerful voice called from the front.
Ethelena. Ichika and I exchanged glances and smiled.
”Welcome back!” I called.
”Welcome home, degozaru!” Ichika added brightly.
Now wasn’t the time for difficult talk. We’d eat first, fill our stomachs, and face the rest after.
Dinner passed peacefully. Later that night, I went to the forge alone. From my inventory, I pulled out an iron ingot. Tonight’s task: the kunai Ichika had requested. Each would be fifteen centimeters long and weigh about two hundred grams—I’d make four.
Heating the metal until it glowed, I hammered and folded it, again and again, following the technique my master had taught me. Even without demonsteel, I could refine it close enough through sheer precision. Every strike carried the rhythm of my teacher’s craft—solid, patient, flawless.
Once the plates were ready, I cut them using my crafting skill, each weighing around two hundred thirty grams after impurities burned off. Perfect, considering I’d still polish them later. I shaped the grips, sharpened the tips, and looped the pommels before wrapping them with cord for balance. Two throwing kunai, two standard ones—done.
”…Once I give these to Ichika,” I murmured, “the next step’s her ninja katana.”
Until now I’d called her “foolish fox,” but now that our bond had changed, it felt right to use her name. I packed the kunai neatly into a case and stowed it in my inventory. Then I pulled out something else—an unused Alchemist’s Egg left over from crafting Dahlia’s armor.
”Uh, Ichika? You here?”
”You called, degozaru?”
I turned toward the forge’s entrance, where she stepped inside as if she’d been waiting.
”I have a few things for you.”
”Oh? Ninja tools, degozaru?”
”Exactly.”
I handed her the case. She opened it, her eyes widening as she inspected each blade one by one.
”…Magnificent work, master,” she said quietly.
”With that, your request’s complete,” I replied. “Next is the katana. But before that…”
I held out the other item—the Egg.
”Wear this. I think it’ll help you.”
”This is that ‘egg’ that shocked the ladies before, degozaru?”
”Yeah. It’s actually a powerful accessory. I’m pretty sure it can make you stronger right now.”
As I explained its effects, Ichika’s expression shifted from curiosity to disbelief.
”Master,” she said slowly, “isn’t that ability… insane, degozaru?”
”Yeah, it’s ridiculously overpowered,” I admitted with a grin.
And it was true. Boosting HP, Mana, and Skill Power by a hundred each, and restoring half every minute? There wasn’t a better upgrade in existence.
”Then why not give it to Lady Ethelena or the others, degozaru?”
”Ah—let’s keep this between us, alright? I’d rather not let anyone from the other parties find out.”
”If that is your wish, I will obey, degozaru.”
I trusted her word and explained the rest—the Earth Mother Goddess equipment series our party used. As I spoke, Ichika’s face slowly froze in disbelief.
”So that’s why Lady Yohira’s sword strikes have become so absurdly powerful, degozaru…”
”I always figured Yohira had natural talent,” I said.
”Even so,” Ichika replied, “to make even Hinagiku brace for a fatal strike—that was beyond expectations, degozaru.”
And apparently, she’d done it all without ‘Concept Appraisal’. Yohira really was the Torakuma clan’s finest combatant—fragile-looking, sometimes childlike and adorable, yet terrifyingly sharp in battle.
”By the way,” I asked, “what level are you now, Ichika?”
”I’m level seventy, degozaru. It’s my cap—there’s nowhere higher to go.”
”Wow… do you still have room under your status limits?”
”Of course, degozaru.”
”I see…”
A youkai reborn twice over would have experienced two stages of ascension, meaning her potential stat cap should’ve increased as well. If she still wasn’t maxed out, maybe I could gather some stat-boosting items from Muumin to push her even further. It was a dangerous thought.
”Master,” Ichika said, narrowing her eyes, “you’re thinking something troublesome again, aren’t you?”
”I was just wondering if I could raise your base stats with enhancement items.”
”See? Troublesome, degozaru.”
So that’s what I’d been reduced to—”troublesome master.” Fair.
”Well, that’s harsh,” I said with a shrug. “Anyway, let’s focus. I’m making your ninja katana next, so I’ll need the materials.”
”You’re impossible, degozaru,” she sighed, exasperated, but handed them over anyway.
From her inventory, she produced several bars of magic metal—mithril, orichalcum, and adamantite—about two kilograms total. Appraisal showed a decent amount of impurities. After refining, I’d probably get around 750 grams of usable blade steel.
”Let’s see,” I muttered. “Mithril for the core, orichalcum for the outer layer, and adamantite for the edge.”
”What’s the reason for that setup, degozaru?”
”Mithril’s soft and channels mana well—perfect for the core so your energy flows smoothly into the blade. Orichalcum adds resonance and strength across the structure, and adamantite’s hardness ensures the edge can cut nearly anything.”
”You explain complicated things like they’re nothing, degozaru.”
Her tone was half awe, half teasing. I grimaced a little—it wasn’t meant to sound showy.
”Ah—sorry, master,” she said quickly, realizing it might’ve sounded unkind.
”If you really feel bad,” I said, “don’t move for a second.”
”Yes.”
She froze, startled. Her formal tone slipped back into her natural one—that alone told me she was flustered. I stepped closer and gently pulled her into a hug, running my hand through her soft fur. Ichika stiffened, then relaxed and hugged me back.
”…Still feels amazing,” I murmured.
”I’ve kept it clean ever since you first said that,” she replied quietly.
”Good girl,” I said, patting her head.
Her tail swayed happily, giving her away. After a few blissful minutes, I pulled back, only for her to instinctively grab my shirt.
”Ah—”
She looked embarrassed. I smiled, ruffled her hair once more, and loosened her hand. That shy, lonely look on her face was almost too endearing.
Now then—time to forge something worthy of that fox. The ninja katana should be shorter than a full sword, closer to a wakizashi—about two shaku, with a thick, straight blade and no curve.
I began by refining the three magic metals. The upgraded forge, thanks to my mentor’s design, could heat them perfectly now. I heated the mithril first, hammering and folding it until impurities sloughed away, leaving a soft, mana-conductive core ideal for the inner steel. The outer, harder shell would be saved for other uses—maybe reforged later through bloomery refinement.
I repeated the process for orichalcum and adamantite, this time keeping their hardest layers for the outer body and edge. Then came forge welding—tacking, full heating, and hammering. I had no partner to handle the secondary hammer, but solitude suited me; it gave me rhythm. Mana wrapped around my hammer as I struck, reversing its phase each swing to balance the metal’s flow.
Core steel. Outer shell. Spine. Edge. Each formed layer locked into place as I worked. My mind, though, refused to go blank. Each strike brought memories.
Meeting Ichika, collapsed and starving.
Our first confrontation.
The messages from the Torakuma clan that shoved responsibility onto me.
Buying her clothes.
Helping her overcome her hatred of baths and vegetables.
Her angry face, her laughter, her tears… every little moment, every emotion—poured into the hammer’s rhythm.
When the shaping was done, I formed the point, finished the forging, coated the blade with clay, and began the quench. Temperature: 985°C—much higher than normal steel, but my Concept Appraisal confirmed it as optimal.
The glowing blade hissed as I plunged it into the water. Steam exploded upward, filling the forge with mist. Once cooled, I pulled it free—white light gleamed along its surface. Polishing revealed the truth: a black blade with a faint blue shine.
I finished the tang, inscribed the smith’s mark, and began the final polish. The finished sword shimmered with an eerie light—golden reflections from the orichalcum intertwined with the adamantite’s blue edge, giving it a subtle, living glow.
The shape was straight, sturdy, twice the normal thickness of a katana.
A weapon of elegance and defiance.
”…Master,” Ichika whispered. “This is… my blade, degozaru?”
”Yeah,” I said. “It’s done. Well—except the hilt and guard.”
”In that case, I’ll reuse my old fittings, degozaru. Here—take them.”
She pulled a previous ninja katana from her inventory and handed it to me. I disassembled it quickly, fitting its hilt to the new blade. The scabbard wouldn’t fit, though—I’d have to make a new one later.
”…Does this sword have a name, master?”
”Yeah,” I said after a pause. “‘Botan.’”
”Is that… a play on my name, degozaru?”
”Yeah. From ‘Botan Ichika.’”
She looked troubled. “I’m not beautiful enough to carry such a lovely name.”
”I don’t care what others think,” I said firmly. “I think you’re beautiful—and I’m not backing down from that.”
”…You’re stubborn, master.”
Smiling faintly, she placed ‘Botan’ into her inventory and stepped closer, wrapping her arms around me. I stroked her head; her single tail swayed gently behind her.
”With this blade you forged,” she said, “I swear to protect you—and everyone you hold dear.”
”I’m counting on you,” I said. “But don’t forget—’everyone I hold dear’ includes you too, Ichika.”
”Yes,” she whispered.
Her voice carried quiet conviction.
And that should’ve been the perfect ending… if only it had stopped there.
”T-Tatara-san,” a familiar voice called sharply, “why didn’t you tell me you were forging a magic-metal katana ahead of time?”
”Tataraaa… honestly, you…” came another voice, full of exasperated affection.
”Wha—!?” I yelped.
”Kyuuun!?” Ichika squeaked in perfect unison.
Notes:
• Ichika – The fox girl. Kunoichi.
• Yohira – Torakuma’s first name.
• Calmys – War God’s knight, Mayor’s guard chief, whip-master hiding as a swordswoman; sharp tongue, big-sister vibe to Tatara, grants him and Ethelena church protection.
• Hinagiku – A tengu woman as Ranka’s potential companion. She stays with Tatara’s group after travels. Joins household scenes only. Linked to Ranka by shared gluttony jokes. No direct tie to Tatara beyond cohabitation. Cheerful eater.
• Dahlia – The automaton.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
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