‘A Spirit Fox!’

  ‘We should run!’

  ‘This is dangerous!’

  Simon audibly gulped in the presence of the fox, the only known mortal race that could reach the Ninth order naturally. He was in the presence of a demigod in the making.

  Her fluffy foxy ears shot upwards, and she narrowed her eyes.

  “Huh. So, are you going to run?”

  He really wanted to, and even his counsel agreed with that act. But this was one of the high races. A race that naturally gains magical power through just living their life. Even amongst them, Spirit Foxes are near the top, only rivaled by the Dragons or the Nephilim.

  Simon met a Nephilim once, and he credited much of his magical knowledge to that encounter.

  “I mean—are you gonna kill me? Wear my skin?”

  ‘Dangerous!’

  ‘Run!’

  ‘What are we doing!’

  The words came out faster than his thoughts could process them.

  The spirit fox snorted, followed by a groan.

  “Ugh… That’s just one fox from the Imperial court, and she is not even well-liked amongst us.”

  She said with a huff, but the tone was very welcoming.

  Emboldened, Simon continued.

  “You are talking about the most famous spirit fox in the world. Wasn’t she responsible for the destruction of like six nations?”

  The spirit fox crossed her arms over her rather modest chest.

  “Right, and Merlin blew up the City In The Sky.”

  He raised his hand, pointing at her.

  “That was an accident.”

  The auburn-haired woman rolled her eyes.

  “So Solomon, Gilgamesh, and every other notable Ninth-order mage in history blew up by mistake? We have one, you humans at least six, so shouldn’t it be us that think you are the monsters?”

  Simon raised his hands in surrender.

  “Point taken.”

  The tails danced behind, hands on hips as she grinned at him in victory.

  ‘She is not dangerous…’

  ‘We can gain more.’

  ‘Care must be taken.’

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  The fox’s ears twitched as she narrowed her eyes again.

  “So, why are you here?”

  The voice was friendly, still high-pitched, with a richer undertone.

  “Shopping for reagents.”

  He answered.

  Ears shot, and the shelves in the shop shifted. What was just a random assortment of magical knick-knacks all turned into various reagents, many of which Simon actually needed for his ritual.

  “See something you like?”

  Her head was now resting on interlocked fingers, both elbows of her pale, slim arms resting on the countertop.

  “Yeah, quite a bit. Not sure they are in my price range though.”

  Her eyes widened in understanding.

  “Oh. Why don’t you tell me what you want, and we can go from there?”

  Simon started listing off everything he would need to complete his spell.

  The spirit fox took a look at the list and whistled.

  “That’s one gnarly Arcane Domain spell. Fifth order no less.”

  Then she turned to him.

  “No offence, but you look too young to be attempting something on this magnitude. Aren’t you worried about “The Consuming” or whatever you people are calling it?”

  Figured a Spirit Fox would know what Simon was doing; most people didn’t, and they feared the ominous Spell diagram made with glowing blood. It was a big reason he never had to worry about security; there had been only one burglary attempt at his place. One look at the magical circle and they had bolted for the hills. After that, never.

  Simon shrugged.

  “That’s what they said when I attempted my Fourth Order Ascension, and I am still here, speaking to you like a normal human being.”

  The fox looked intrigued, the tips of her tail slowly waving back and forth.

  “You are gonna be fun, I can tell. Tell you what, give me one interesting story, and I’ll reduce the price by twenty percent. That should help, right?”

  Simon did not like talking about his past, but the thought of inching closer to his goal was too strong a lure.

  “Deal.”

  Simon put his hands in his pockets and asked.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “How about we start from the top. Something from your childhood.”

  He felt sheepish, but if that was all one needed to do to get their hands on some high-level magical reagents, it was a worthy sacrifice.

  —

  As the interesting human left with his bag, Frost Giant nails, Fumiko thrashed about wildly as her curiosity was barely kept in check.

  A young human of the fourth order with a manifestation ability that was preparing to ascend to the fifth order by creating a domain spell. All the while, there was not even a hint of magical corruption.

  Any one of those modifiers and she would have been interested. Combine all of it, and there was no way Fumiko would just let this human fall through her grasp.

  In her sixty years of life, young by Spirit Fox standards, this was the most intriguing thing to happen.

  Everything had become so monotonous that she feared she wouldn’t get the stimulation needed to grow her fifth tail.

  A decent-looking man with a shifty air about him might just be the right amount of excitement necessary.

  Not to mention those voices.

  Given that there was no way he had formed a magical contract of any sort, it meant that his manifestations were gaining some level of intelligence. Manifestations did eventually gain intelligence — just not this early, and certainly not this coherently.

  Whatever those four extra magical sources were, their manifestations had a signature. One Fumiko could sense.

  The story about his childhood made some sense. If he had been born to a Mage Tower, the chances of him gaining a manifestation as his true spell went up exponentially.

  But the man was clearly still not attached to a group.

  “Just what is your story?”

  Fumiko did not know, but she had cast a lure.

  She just hoped it was enticing enough to catch the fish. And really, really hoped that it would be an adventure. She was done being cooped up in her shop for so long.