In the moment the black-clad woman faltered slightly, the girl—who had seemed to have completely given up on fighting back—suddenly flashed a fierce glint in her eyes. She slowly and carefully bent her willowy waist, her whole body taut like a beast ready to pounce, not the helpless girl from moments before.
Her gaze never left the black-clad woman, wary of any sudden move.
But the woman’s grip on her dagger loosened, as if it might slip away with the lightest touch—a stark contrast to her earlier, resolute killing intent.
Shadows lurking behind the girl stirred restlessly in the darkness, poised to unleash their power at her command and trap the woman in a fatal corner.
“…”
The black-clad woman spoke, her words leaving the girl utterly bewildered.
“Misty… trouble…”
Before, every simple word the woman uttered had dripped with scythe-sharp killing intent, aimed squarely at her. Now, the logic was unclear, and that tangible malice had vanished without a trace.
Confused, the girl instinctively glanced at the figure deep in the shadows—and froze completely, unable to move.
It wasn’t unwillingness; it was impossibility.
Her attack stance lasted only a moment before her leaning body straightened slowly. The restless shadows behind her calmed instantly, and the suffocating pressure around her dissipated, restoring stillness.
Everything returned to how it began.
Futile resistance only hastened death. The girl was smart enough to see that harsh truth.
The dagger still pressed against her neck as she wore that same look of despair—but now, genuine survival instinct flickered in her eyes.
“I… I’ll give anything to live… even if it’s…”
Her tears and that desperate, unwavering gaze finally matched what a lamb awaiting slaughter should show—her life entirely at the black-clad woman’s mercy.
“…”
The woman fell silent for a beat, then murmured, “Contract. Survival. Refusal. Death.”
The girl froze at those words, then her lifeless face bloomed with hope like spring wind reviving wilted flowers. Her already pretty features glowed with renewed charm.
“Mm!”
She nodded vigorously, terrified that any delay might make the other retract the offer.
The black-clad woman said nothing, simply lowering her dagger and extending her left hand before the girl.
No words were needed. The girl’s body sank to her knees automatically. She reverently caught the offered hand and kissed its back—a knight pledging her soul to a queen.
Beneath the moonlight, the shadows behind her revealed their hidden forms.
Six snow-white tails.
They sprouted from beneath her short skirt’s hem, gathering obediently over her shoulders as she pledged herself to the black-clad woman.
Deprived of their combat edge, the tails looked oddly cute. Their fluffy texture sparked an irresistible urge to scoop them up and cuddle them.
Their pure, snowy white color alone marked the girl’s true identity.
She was the last surviving royal of the Seductive Fox Clan—those six tails a symbol of her noble blood.
In the Seductive Fox Clan, every member was female. Snow-white tails signified royalty, representing pure lineage and immeasurable talent.
When a Seductive Fox mated with another race, their firstborn was always a Seductive Fox; only later offspring might inherit the other parent’s traits.
They were natural breeders. Many Monsters chose them as mates to produce ever-stronger descendants.
The purer the bloodline, the mightier the offspring—making every royal Seductive Fox an invaluable asset.
Historical records even told of an Alt-Dragon Monster mating with a Seductive Fox, birthing a true dragon-blooded terror that ravaged Demon Hunters and humans alike in its era.
Only then did Demon Hunters begin regulating them seriously—not exterminating them like other Monsters.
That single solution: kill.
“Master, Misty—I’m not her.” The black-clad woman yanked her hand back just as the girl’s tails nearly touched it, refusing to complete the ritual.
“…Misty. My master?” The girl repeated the name softly, as if it held deep meaning.
“I obey your command. As the price for survival, I’ll fulfill my contract.”
“Until I find that person.”
Her tone hardened abruptly, sweeping away all traces of weakness. No room for negotiation remained—no one would believe this was the same girl who’d groveled moments ago.
