I was in Seclusion for so long that everyone forgot about me

"Four twos," Marika said, her fingers absentmindedly tapping against her cup, just barely lifted to peek underneath.

The snow-leopard beast-kin smirked, her tail flicking lazily behind her. "Five twos."

"Three tails," Zary declared with unwavering confidence.

A battle-hardened dwarven woman chuckled and knocked twice on the sturdy wooden table. "Go on then, gimme something worth doubtin’."

One by one, we placed a hidden die before our cups.

"Not what you expected, huh, Ylgrun?" taunted the kitsune beside me, her three tails flicking in playful arcs behind her.

Ylgrun let out a gruff snort. " Five fives. And I’d wager me honor ye fixed them dice, Kazari.”

Marika chuckled, shooting a side glance at Cynthia. "I'd be more worried about her."

Cynthia gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest. "Me? You wound me!" Her voice dripped with feigned innocence, though the crocodile tear in her eye said otherwise.

Laughter rippled around the table.

"Okay, my turn," Kazari cooed, her voice honey-smooth. "Let's go with five tails~"

Her gaze slinked toward me, emerald eyes glinting with amusement. "And what will our Matriarch choose?" She emphasized the title like a purr, the corner of her lips curling into a slow, knowing smirk.

I lifted the edge of my cup, just enough to glimpse my remaining dice—four of them, all showing tails. The die I'd placed on the table was a one. My eyes flickered across the game board. Two more ones. A five. Two threes.

Then, I met Kazari’s gaze again. That smirk hadn’t wavered, her posture as relaxed as ever, her tails shifting in lazy, hypnotic motions. Five tails... she could be bluffing, but it was difficult to tell.

'Can’t you just use that fancy soul magic of yours to peek?' Aska’s voice rang in my mind, tinged with wry mirth.

I scowled slightly. 'What do you take me for? I don’t cheat in a game of bluff. Where’s the thrill in that? Where’s the artistry? No honor in trickery when the whole point is to test your wits.'

Aska muttered something inaudible, but my focus was already back on the table.

"Seven tails," I declared, my voice carrying through the room where rugged tavern wood met eastern luxury—walls draped in rich fabric, crystal lanterns casting a warm glow, and a sturdy, hand-carved table at the center we were sitting on.

Plush cushions and ornately carved chairs surrounded it, though no one looked particularly relaxed in them. I found them quite comfy, though.

I shifted slightly, sinking further into the plush cushion beneath me. Softer than I remembered.

The realization came slow, creeping at the back of my mind—an effortless transition, like slipping into a warm bath. We'd barely stepped into the inn before we were guided back here. Smooth, natural. Too natural.

Had I even questioned it? Yeah, a bit, but that was the whole fun­~

A slow smirk tugged at my lips. Really clever. The pull had been light, barely noticeable, just a suggestion rather than a command. It reminded me of charm magic—subtle, practiced, meant to feel like our own decision. Even the girls were directly sent away into a mission, a secret information hushed into their minds.

Across the table, the vixen’s emerald eyes lingered on me, as if waiting for me to catch on. I met her gaze but gave her nothing in return.

A small whistle escaped Ylgrun and brought me back from my thoughts. "Not messin’ about, eh?"

Marika eyed me warily. "Ah, fuck me. I doubt." She rapped her knuckles once against the table.

One by one, the players lifted their cups.

Marika had no tails. Cynthia had two. Zary—surprisingly, none. Ylgrun, only fives.

Then all eyes turned to Kazari, who reveled in the attention, letting the anticipation build before slowly, teasingly lifting her cup. Three tails.

The tension snapped.

"Now you, cutie~," Kazari purred, voice dripping with amusement.

A slow grin stretched across my lips as I revealed my dice. "Exactly seven tails."

Ylgrun slammed her hand against the table with a groan, though the furniture barely shifted under her force. "Curse it all! Why’d it have to be exact?! Why’d ye have to doubt her, Marika?!"

Marika muttered something under her breath before tossing one of her dice into the center pile. The others followed suit, all except me and Ylgrun, who threw two dice.

"Nicely played," Kazari crooned, her eyes lingering on me longer than necessary, the dim lantern glow traced highlights along the silk of her kimono.

Cynthia gave me a nod of approval. "You don’t flinch easy. That’s rare."

"Aye, this lass has nerves o’ steel," Ylgrun agreed.

"Lass?" I tilted my head, a smirk tugging at my lips. "I’m older than all of you~ I just have more experience."

Ylgrun choked on her ale, pounding a fist against her chest. "That don’t make sense! I know Matriarchs bend the rules o’ the world, but older than Marika as a human? That’s some real shite."

Marika, however, looked mildly offended. "You wouldn’t say that to Ithi. Compared to her, I’m a child."

Cynthia, still watching me with mild curiosity, leaned forward. "Marika mentioned you knew Ithi. How? I thought Jaegers and witches despised each other."

I let my grin stretch just a little wider. The real game had begun.

"Mhm, well, as you’ve all gathered, I’m the last living of the Asche family. I may have Jaeger blood, but I assure you, I am no friend to them." My gaze flickered toward Kazari, who had been studying me carefully. "What about you? How exactly are you and Cynthia running a place like this as beast-kin, hmm?"

Kazari rolled the dice in her palm, tilting her head with feigned innocence. "Maybe we'll tell you if you win."

A slow smirk curled across my lips. "You mean when I win."

Everyone readied themselves for the next round. With a sharp clang, the cups hit the table, dice hidden beneath.

'I still don’t get the rules,' Asche murmured.

I cracked open my cup just enough to glance at my dice—two tails, a one, and two threes. “One one,” I announced.

“Two ones,” Marika followed smoothly.

Cynthia’s tail flicked lazily, her voice carrying a teasing lilt. “Two threes.”

Aska, still perched on my shoulder, huffed. 'Hold on. I get most of it, but why was she allowed to stay at two?'

I sighed. 'You always have to go higher—either by increasing the number of dice or the value itself. Tails are the highest, ones are the lowest. But tails also act as wilds, meaning they count as any number.'

'Oooh, so if someone has five tails—' Aska started.

'—they also have five ones, fives, or any other number they need,' I finished for her.

Zary knocked twice on the table.

Immediately, everyone placed a die of their choosing in front of their cups.

Aska groaned. 'Yeah, that part I really don’t understand…'

'It’s a gamble,' I explained. 'If someone knocks twice, it forces everyone to contribute a die. But if the one who did the knocking gets doubted and loses, they have to throw away two dice instead of one.'

“Nine threes,” Zary declared, her voice cool and unreadable.

Ylgrun squinted at her, then scoffed. “Oi, lass, why’re ye jumpin’ so high all of a sudden? Nah, I doubt.” She knocked once on the table.

Everyone lifted their cups.

A stunned silence filled the air.

Then, chaos.

Ylgrun leapt to her feet, her chair scraping violently against the floor. “Just—how?! That can’t be! What in the stoneborn pickaxe is this!?”

Zary let out a full-bellied laugh. “You should never doubt a paladin of the goddesses!”

“EVEN IF I DID!” Ylgrun bellowed, then caught herself, her volume lowering when Kazari shot her a sharp look. She grumbled, “There were twenty threes this round. Twenty. We only have twenty-four dice left!”

Asche’s voice flickered into my mind. 'Did you…?'

I shook my head subtly.

Ylgrun grumbled something about divine luck before tossing another die into the pile.

Asche, still watching intently, asked, “Huh. Why didn’t the others throw one in too?'

'Oh, you only lose a die if the one who got doubted actually lied,' I clarified. 'If they called the exact number, everyone gets penalized for the doubters miscalculation.'

Asche huffed. 'Huh… We never had games like this in our taverns.'

I snorted. “That’s because you were only playing drinking games.”

Another clang, another round.

I lifted my cup just enough to peek beneath it—three tails, two ones.

"Two tails," Zary said eagerly.

"Five threes," Ylgrun rumbled, her face as immovable as the stone she was born from.

'Wait, wait, wait—why did she go so high when she only has two dice left?!' Asche’s tiny fox tail thwacked my cheek in protest.

I sighed, rubbing the spot. 'Asche… it's a game of bluff. That’s how it works.'

"Three tails," hummed Kazari, her voice smooth as silk.

Asche flicked her tail against me again. "But what I still don’t understand is how tails can be lower than numbers when everything is supposed to go higher."

'Didn’t you listen when Cynthia explained the rules at the beginning?"'

'W-Well… no,' the millennia-old elemental admitted sheepishly. 'Fara kept petting me.'

I rolled my eyes, making Kazari raise a curious eyebrow. 'You’re talking to your shape-shifting elemental?' she mused.

I tapped the side of my nose. "Caught me."

“Intriguing," Cynthia murmured, her sharp gaze flickering between me and Asche, though she kept her expression unreadable.

'Anyway,' I continued mentally to Asche, 'for every two numbers after the first tail, another tail follows—up to the max count of dice. One number: one tail. Two number, three numbers: two tails. Four numbers, five numbers: three tails… and so on.'

Asche made a small sound of understanding. 'Ohhh, okay. That makes sense… I think.'

I petted her head absentmindedly. She leaned into my touch. 'You should consider shifting back to human later. You’re leaning a little too much into being an animal.'

She turned away with a small pout. 'Really…?'

The dwarf knocked her knuckles on the table impatiently. "Can ye finish yer damn turn, lass?"

"Oh, sorry," I said, snapping back. "Five tails."

"Six tails."

"Mhm… let’s go with eight tails,” said Cynthia.

Zary narrowed her eyes, then knocked on the table. Everyone revealed their dice.

Zero tails. Another zero.

Yet another zero.

Then came my dice—four tails, then three more, and a single one.

I groaned, closing my eyes briefly. "Really, Zary?"

The leopard beast-kin wrinkled her nose before giving the paladin a smug grin. "You never learn, no matter how much we do this~."

Laughter rippled around the table. Everyone except her tossed a die into the center.

The warm, incense-laced air suddenly felt heavier as Eleanor stepped inside the VIP-room, brushing dust from her cloak. The crystal lanterns casting stretched shadows along the velvet-covered walls, their gem-like glow doing little to soften the weight of her words.

"The information checked out," she said, her voice steady despite the shift in the room. "There were slavers still lurking just outside the Kietz. We got one of them, but before he could say anything, some curse skill killed him."

Kazari’s expression darkened. "What did it look like?"

Eleanor stepped closer, her voice lowering. "The curse? Hard to say, but he started coughing up blood—then black goo started dripping from his eyes and ears."

Kazari tapped a manicured finger against the table, considering. “That would mean… employees of The Gilded Maw.”

"The Gilded Maw?" Zary echoed.

Cynthia exhaled through her nose. "An underground auction house. Nobles, crime lords, and wealthy degenerates gather there for… entertainment." She sneered. "They sell rare goods, yes, but most are there for the slaves."

Zary stiffened. "Then let's—"

The paladin barely had time to stand before Kazari raised a hand, stopping her in her tracks. "Not so fast," she said smoothly. "You don’t just walk into the Gilded Maw. First, we don’t even know where it is—not exactly. And even if you did, you need a password to get inside. Without it, the entrance doesn’t even exist to you. And even if you force your way in—" she let the words hang, letting Zary fill in the blanks.

Marika’s hands clenched into fists. "They’ll be gone before we can reach them."

"Exactly." The kitsune’s tails flicked, slow and deliberate, as if painting invisible patterns in the air. "This is a well-oiled operation. They know what they’re doing."

Marika let out a sharp breath, her frustration barely restrained. "Then how do we get inside?"

The kitsune’s emerald eyes gleamed. "I might have a lead… but I’m not certain."

Zary folded her arms. "And what’s your price?"

A lazy smirk curled Kazari’s lips. "You win the game, and I might consider sharing~."

The room tensed.

I exhaled through my nose, a slow, deliberate sigh. "As I said before, you mean once I have won."

Her smirk widened.

Marika’s brow furrowed. "You’d go that far for us?"

I leaned back, my fingers trailing along the rim of my cup. "Don’t misunderstand me," I murmured. "This isn’t charity. They targeted your people knowing a Matriarch was among them. That means they know who I am. Which means…" I paused, my voice darkening, "they’re going to auction them as something special now. Something personal. And that…" I let the words sink in, the weight of them pressing against the air, "irritates me."

Silence fell and the beast-kin at the table exchanged glances.

Cynthia was the first to nod. “Information about a Matriarch is worth a fortune.” Her voice was quieter now. “They’ll sell those kids as something rare, something you took interest in.” Her gaze flicked toward me. “That makes them more valuable."

I clenched my jaw, feeling something dark coil inside me. The room seemed colder. The air heavier.

A beat of silence.

Ylgrun shifted in her seat uncomfortably. "Och, lass, ye got the look of someone about to tear a man’s spine out."

I exhaled slowly, forcing my expression to smooth. “Don’t worry.” My voice dropped to a near-whisper. “I won’t make a mess… yet.”

Kazari’s ears twitched, her gaze lingering on me—watching, studying.

Then, with a delighted hum, she swirled the dice in her hands. "Well then~," she cooed, tails flicking in amusement. "Shall we continue?"

Without another word, I slammed my cup onto the table.

"Let’s go for the next round."

A deep belly laugh erupted from Ylgrun. "That’s what I like tae hear! Ye got guts, lass!" She raised her mug in approval before taking a another deep swig.

Kazari, lounging back in her seat with that same knowing smirk, dragged her nails slowly across the wooden table, the sound just sharp enough to prickle at the senses. "Mmm, but let’s make this interesting~." Her emerald eyes gleamed with amusement. "If you lose… I want to know everything about you." Her voice dripped with honeyed curiosity.

I met her gaze with a slow, deliberate grin. "Good luck, foxy~."

Zary, across the table, did not look amused. Her elven ears flicked, her lips pressing into a thin line. She felt the shift in the room, the game turning into something else—something more dangerous.

One by one, everyone readied their cups.

I turned to Eleanor and tossed her the pouch of gold I’d gotten from the Guild. “Go back to the front. You and the others deserve some drinks, rest—maybe get some company if you desire. You can also rent a room with this.”

She caught the pouch mid-air, nodding once before leaving. The guards stationed outside shut the door behind her.

The VIP room grew silent, only the soft flicker of crystal lanterns seemed to speak. The warm, spiced scent of exotic incense that filled the air, felt even richer and almost dizzying now that the room was shut again.

Cynthia, ever sharp, rolled the dice between her fingers, watching me. "You took some people in? One three." She sounded casual. Too casual.

"Somehow, it happened." I shrugged.

“Two fives,” Zary called.

Kazari’s voice, smooth as silk, slid through the air. "Somehow? Oh, you poor thing~.” She tilted her head, a slow smile stretching across her lips. "Are you aware of who you killed back there? The news reached us before you even stepped through these doors."

I didn’t flinch. "No, not at all. Not that I care. What do they want to do about it?"

Ylgrun exhaled, shaking her head. “Four tails.”

Kazari’s tails moved—lazy, slow, teasing—as she studied me. “Well, against you? Nothing." A pause, her gaze lidding slightly. "Against your friends? The people you support? That’s another matter entirely." She tapped a finger to her lips. "You see, the boy you killed was the count’s successor." A ripple of interest passed through the group. "And that count just so happens to be the head of the High Guards—the one responsible for security in the Royal District."

A low whistle came from Marika.

I rolled my shoulders, unimpressed. “So… I shouldn’t have killed him then?”

Kazari giggled, a soft, melodic sound that somehow carried an edge. "Well," she purred, "you didn’t kill him—surprise! But it might take a few months before he recovers..."

Cynthia arched a brow. “She broke him.”

'What?' Asche’s voice snapped, laced with disbelief. 'He should have been dead.'

I slowly nodded, piecing it together. 'Yeah, tell me what you want—I call bullshit. Or we’ve severely underestimated what the System is capable of.'

Kazari, still watching, still calculating, leaned forward slightly. "You seem surprised," she mused, her voice like a cat toying with a mouse.

I mirrored her lean, resting my chin on my palm. "Oh, I am. He seemed dead—I didn’t bother to double-check. A courtesy to the Guild Master, really."

Kazari’s smirk deepened, something lurking beneath it. “From what I heard, your little elemental pet was quite thorough.”

"Five tails," she called.

I let the comment slide. “Ten tails.”

Marika knocked twice on the table. The ritual continued—one by one, everyone placed a tail before their cup.

"Eleven tails," the Elder called, slowly raising the stakes.

Cynthia hesitated, tail flicking. Her ears twitched, debating whether to knock or raise.

"Damn it—twelve tails."

A soft, knowing chuckle left the kitsune’s lips. "Thirteen tails," Zary countered.

Ylgrun grumbled under her breath, clearly not enjoying the rapid escalation. "Ye all are bloody mad. Fifteen tails."

Suddenly, Zary flinched.

Not a big reaction—just a tiny crack in the mask. Her eyes darted between the dice and Kazari’s unreadable face. Her posture shifted, stiffening at the shoulders.

“…Wait a minute,” she muttered, barely audible.

I tilted my head.

Zary’s jaw clenched. Her hand hovered over her cup, then slowly withdrew, as if some part of her had realized it wasn’t hers to lift.

Next to me, Marika furrowed her brow, her expression tightening. She sniffed the air once, subtle but sharp—then again. Her eyes narrowed at the incense burner tucked just behind Kazari.

“That scent,” she whispered under her breath, fingers tightening on her teacup. “It’s not just spice. Something’s… off.”

Kazari’s ear twitched.

Then, without looking up, she made the faintest motion—her tails shifted behind her in a precise ripple, one curling around the incense burner for just a moment.

A shimmer passed through the air. The scent turned syrupy, heavy, clinging like honeyed smoke.

Zary blinked hard. Her expression softened. Her hand returned to the cup.

Marika let out a quiet sigh, the tension in her shoulders easing like steam venting from a kettle.

Neither of them looked fully awake—but whatever clarity had clawed its way back up was gently pushed down again.

Kazari hummed softly, her smile curling with quiet amusement. She slipped a hand into her sleeve and pulled out a separate pair of dice—jet-black, gold-tipped. Not part of the game. Just decoration. A signal.

She turned them over in her fingers once. Slow. Measured.

Then her eyes lifted to meet mine.

“Twenty-two tails.”

The air seemed to tighten, like someone had plucked a string only I could feel. The warmth in the room thickened, heavy with incense and implication. Her gaze stayed locked on mine, steady and expectant.

I felt it—the invitation, the pressure.

This wasn’t a game anymore.

It was a test. And it was meant for me.

Kazari wasn’t just playing to win—she was studying me. Testing my limits, my patience, my reactions. Every flick of her tails, every bat of her lashes—it was a performance. A dance meant to lure, ensnare, and conquer—how daunty.

Even the way she sat, her posture flawless yet deceptively relaxed, was calculated. And then, of course, her kimono.

The crimson silk clung to her like liquid fire, rippling with every subtle movement. Violet embroidery, delicate and deliberate, traced the sinuous curves of her tails and the delicate bloom of peonies, their silver-threaded petals glimmering under the lantern light.

Her wide sleeves draped elegantly, an effortless display of grace, while the obi cinched tightly at her waist only emphasized the dangerous allure of her figure.

But it was the tails that held the real power. She didn’t just move them—she commanded them.

Each flick, each slow, rolling motion was measured—never erratic, never uncontrolled. One coiled lightly around her wrist, another ghosted over the fabric of her kimono, teasing at the edge as if drawing invisible symbols in the air. The third trailed just behind her, like the whisper of a promise—dangerous, tempting, unattainable.

She didn’t need to touch anyone. She was the touch, the temptation. And as much as I hated to admit it—it was working.

But I knew better. I felt that darn System. It was there—pressing—worming its way into the seals, seeking an opening, slowing unraveling them.

Whatever Kazari was doing, it wasn’t just seduction. If I had to guess, I would say it was one of those abilities Alicia was talking about. Amazing.

I tapped my fingers against the wood, feeling the grain beneath my fingertips.Then, with measured calm, I knocked.

Kazari’s eyes flickered—just a flash of something beneath that perfect veneer.

Then came the smile.

Slow. Wide. Sinister.

She lifted her cup.

One by one, everyone else followed.

Only tails.

One after another.

The tension in the room coiled tight.

Then it was my turn.

I let my fingers hover over the cup. A pause. A moment.

I felt Kazari watching, waiting—anticipating.

And then, with a slow, deliberate motion, I lifted it.

Three tails—One one.

Kazari's smirk faltered, her expression starting to crack.

And that was all it needed.

Her confident, leisurely poise twisted into something sharp, feral—a raw, untamed reaction that she couldn't suppress.

"How?" she demanded. Her voice was a snarl, the rich, honeyed playfulness gone, stripped away by sheer disbelief.

Before anyone could react, Asche moved. With a flick of her wrist, the temperature plummeted.

Frost raced across the floor.

A silent blast of ice magic surged outward, freezing everyone in place—an elegant display of control. No one was hurt, but their movements were stilled, as if time itself had turned brittle. Gosh, I love that magic.

I, on the other hand, shed my disguise entirely. My tails unfurled, slithering through the air like living shadows, wrapping around Kazari’s limbs like a snake coiling its prey.

A sharp gasp left her lips, her emerald eyes widening as she felt the weight of my power closing in.

She struggled, her magic flickering—weakening. The same spell she had woven so skillfully over the moon elves began to unravel in my presence, like threads snapping under a careful, deliberate pull.

A shiver ran down her spine. Her defiance was still there, burning in her gaze, but beneath it… was uncertainty.

I smirked. Good. MORE.

Lifting her effortlessly, my tails tightened ever so slightly—just enough to make a point. Then, I pulled her close. Close enough that our faces nearly touched, her breath warm against my cheek. A tear ran down her face. Instinct took over.

Slowly, I licked the salty tear from her skin, revealing my fangs. She had teased me the whole evening. Now, she had to face the consequences~.

"Tsk-tsk-tsk," I chided, voice smooth as velvet. "You had me on your good side—until you decided to cheat."

My grip firmed. "And I loathe cheating."

With a smooth flick of my tails, I tilted her head slightly to the side, exposing her neck. The vixen shivered. I could smell the fear rising within her, the knowing anticipation of what would come next.

I pulled her closer, my tongue trailing over her sweet skin. A stifled moan slipped past her lips. And then—I bit.

Ooh, what a taste. How I had missed this. Delightful. Truly delightful. Unlike the now compared bitter tang of medicine, this was so much richer.

After a few seconds, I withdrew, licking away the last traces of blood that dripped from her skin. It was already healing.

When my gaze met the kitsune’s, her eyes burned with rage, fear... and something else. A hidden lust.

Someone didn’t like being outplayed.

"K-Kazari—!" Cynthia’s voice suddenly rang through the room, strained as she fought against the ice encasing her. "What’s going on?! What are you doing to her?!"

Asche glided closer to the leopard-kin, her presence ethereal as icy mist curled around her.

She was forced to turn her head towards Asche, meeting her burning gaze.

"You really thought we wouldn’t notice?" Asche’s voice was deceptively light. "That you could outplay two Matriarchs?"

"Two?!" Cynthia’s sharp intake of breath betrayed the first real flicker of panic.

I raised an amused brow. "Asche, why are you revealing things now? That’s usually my role."

"Wah, no fair!" she pouted, dramatically flicking her long braid over her shoulder. "You got to do it with the paladins—why can’t I have my turn? Besides, Zary and Marika already know~."

I let out a slow, theatrical sigh, rubbing my temple. "My magic must have been faulty if I let you be like this."

"Not at all," Asche countered smoothly, "I was always like this. But if I’m bound to you, I can also just be more like myself." She gave me a wicked grin, "Don’t worry, I still dislike you very much."

I scoffed, shaking my head before turning my attention back to Kazari, who was still tense in my grasp.

"So," I murmured, brushing one of my tails along her cheek, almost teasing. "Little kitsune, what are you hiding~?"

Her ears flicked back, her breath uneven. "Wh-why should I tell you anything, demon?"

A horrible, low laugh escaped me. It was neither kind nor reassuring.

I let it linger.

My tails coiled around her tighter, lifting her higher, her legs dangling above the floor.

"Demon?" I mused. "Oh no, little pup."

I leaned in, voice dipping into something abyssal, ancient, primal. "I'm what lurks in the dark. I'm the shape you think you see in the corner of your eye—the thing just beyond the campfire."

Kazari’s ears twitched, but she didn’t break eye contact. I smiled wider. "I'm what waits in the closet, beneath the bed, in the silence when the night grows too long."

The tension in the room was palpable. “I am—”

"Cringey?" Aska deadpanned.

…

I turned my head slowly. "Why?"

She tilted hers, expression innocent. "Are you really asking me that? Or are you just that oblivious to how ridiculous you sound?"

"You just want to fuck me over, don’t you?"

She tapped her nose with a smug grin.

"Bingo~."

I exhaled slowly through my nose. "You—are utterly irritating. Especially for a former human."

She shrugged. "Takes one to know one."

"Fine, fine." I released Kazari, throwing her a few meters away—enough to send a message without hurting her.

She landed on her feet, though barely.

Asche, meanwhile, stretched like a cat, then leaned into my side. "Oh, you were real? Neat."

I merely crossed my arms. 'You ruined my moment, so you can finish this,' I said, gesturing at the room while watching Kazari pull herself together."

She coughed, wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her kimono, before glaring at us with absolute distrust. "Who the fuck are you two?"

Asche tilted her head, a slow grin spreading across her lips. "Good question!"

She placed a hand over her heart, voice mockingly elegant, "I am Aska von Asche, Last Matriarch of the Asche Family, enemy of the Winter Family, Daughter of the Dragoness Volashia."

She took a step forward. "And strongest battlemage of my time."

Kazari blinked. And then again.

Her lips parted slightly. "Wait… If you’re Asche, then who is—?"

I stood, flicking my wrist. A void of shadows curled into my palm. From within, I pulled something from my storage—a hat. My witch’s hat.

I placed it atop my head, tilting it ever so slightly. Then I bowed.

"First Matriarch of Avarithis." The crystal lanterns flickered. "Ancient Soul Mage. Honorary Witch."

I paused for a moment before my voice continued, filled with utter spite. "Mortal enemy of Anansi and—"

Silence fell over the room. I straightened, locking eyes with the fox.

"—the person who brought Aska back to life."

"After killing me," Asche added helpfully.

"After killing her," I echoed, lips quirking into a smirk.

"I haven’t heard of Avarithis or Anansi," Kazari began, her tail flicking thoughtfully, "but an ancient soul mage… let alone an honorary witch? That explains your form—your chimermancy."

She let out a soft, almost breathless laugh. "I’ve been had. After centuries of outmaneuvering people, someone finally got the better of me."

Her golden eyes narrowed. “Did you tamper with any souls here?”

I waved a dismissive hand. “Nah. Aside from giving Asche an elemental form, I didn’t mess with anyone.”

A voice cut in. “Och, that’s all well an’ good, but could ye free me already? It’s gettin’ colder than a frost troll’s backside in here…” Ylgrun grumbled, shifting against her restraints, completely unfazed by the revelations around her.

Aska let out an exasperated sigh. “How does the mood shift this fast?!” she muttered, finally releasing her magic from everyone.

Cynthia flicked her tail through Aska’s form with a smirk. “We’re talking about an honorary witch here. Do you have any idea what that title means? It’s not just some fancy rank. You could basically be friends with the High Council of the Witchdom.”

Now that was interesting. I raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t Marika mention that? Feels like something she’d have told you, considering the influence you have over her.”

Kazari scoffed. “You mean my charm ability? It’s strong, sure, but not against those two. It just makes them favor me more—keeps them calm, open. Just look at them. But push it too hard, and the effect snaps.”

“They’ll remember this, won’t they?” I asked.

Both beast-kin cringed. “They will,” Kazari admitted, ears twitching, “so I’d rather make this worth your while. Especially since you did beat me fair and square.”

“There’s a real demon lurking in the red-light district,” she added. “Over in the eastern part of the city.”

“A demon? In the human capital?” Asche asked, startled.

Cynthia nodded, arms crossed. “We’re still figuring out how it got past the capital’s barriers, but regulars from the Gilded Maw have been vanishing. No bodies. No traces. Just… gone.”

“Snatched right before our eyes, swallowed into the shadows,” Ylgrun muttered darkly. “Somethin’s workin’ under there, somethin’ clever. Ain’t some mindless beastie tearin’ folk apart—it’s pickin’ ‘em careful-like. Could be smuggling ‘em somewhere. Could be feeding on ‘em.”

A demon working from within, handpicking her victims? That was a problem—and an opportunity.

“Good to know…” I said, lips curling into a smirk. “Asche, feel like hunting a demon?”

The elemental spirit shifted back into her harpyja-phoenix form, feathers shimmering in the dim light. “Hell yeah. I’ve got an old bone to pick with them anyway~.”

Before leaving, my gaze lingered on Zary and Marika, both still dazed as if they’d been drugged.

“This effect really lingers,” I muttered before turning back to Kazari. “Be a dear and tell Titan’s Vault to send my wares here. And make sure they’re well taken care of.”

Kazari swallowed. “Y-yes, Madam…”

Satisfied, Asche and I left the VIP room. Outside, a cool night breeze whispered through the alley, the scent of city life mixing with something… off.

Somewhere out there, a demoness was watching. Hunting.

“Let’s catch a demon~.”