The Fox Girl From The White Plains

Chapter 2: Chapter 2: I’ll be taking your heart


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“A survivor, eh?”

“Yes. I found her in the middle of the battlefield,” with a lower tone filled with pity Keru went on, “an unfortunate soul.”

“And now you want us to take care of her?” The fancy-clothed man crossed his arms, displeased, dressed in expensive white garments, from neck to ankles, leaving black shoes at the footing.

“Just till I’m back to retrieve her,” Keru shrugged, glancing over at me, who remained on the sidelines, having my hair and ears carefully dried by Sofia’s yellow towel. The master of the Aria house followed along with his eyes.

“Kid. How old are you?”

As I was about to say that I was fifteen, my tail swayed to the sides, ‘right, I mustn’t be careless. In this world, I’m...’ 

I placed my right hand on top of Sofia’s one, causing her to blush, removing the towel from my face, “I’m Yuki, ten red moons.”

“That’s a very beastly thing to say,” his voice came out in a rough tone, causing me to feel uncomfortable.

 “I’m sorry,” I curled my neck, leaning my head forward, following the traditional method of apologizing in my past life.

“Only slaves bow to others, yet you lack a collar,” he faced Keru, “how long?”

“A year, at max five...”

“That long, eh?” His hand raised towards his beard, rubbing it softly. “Do you need help?”

Keru’s eyes widened, “n-no sir Astal, it’s fine.”

The man began laughing at my savior’s embarrassed reaction, taking a peek at me, signaling me with his hand to approach him. A few steps after, rigid words flew out of his lips, “ultimately you are a beast. Humans enslave your kin. On this man’s behalf, you’ll be under the protection of the Aria family. Yet, if you’re ever to bare your fangs at us...” 

Something that my body had never felt before began touching my skin directly, creepily, eerily, a nasty feeling that quickly caused my inwards to twist, and without being able to help myself, I fell on my knees, drenching the ground with puke. The blood-thirst that emanated from this man ceased my senses of reasoning and even of how to function as a normal being. Without having the ability to resist, I shook from head to toe, and then, my mind embraced tranquillity, fainting mercilessly.

“Take her away and tell the maids to clean her.” 

Sofia, too, trembled even after his aura ceased. Such was the grand power of this man, the head of the Aria household, vastly known as the chooser, and guardian of true kings. During any coronation, all the successors would need to go through a trial set by the current master, and only then would one rise to its throne.

To their surprise, the chimes rang, causing the men’s gazes to fall onto the scabbard.

“Danger? Did I get trailed all this way?” His eyes looked around, and as he was about to investigate the problem, a hand filled with scars and calluses grasped his shoulder.

“It’s fine. Just go.”

“They should be after me, so once I leave, it should be safe,” Keru reassured him, out of kindness and friendship.

“Doesn’t matter,” he tightened the grasp, smirking.

“Yes, you’re right,” Keru shrugged, reminded of how futile it was to come here, “I’ll be going then.”

“Don’t die out there, kid.”

Keru nodded, distancing himself from the man, doing a light wave at him, after smiling briefly.

“Now then...” His silvery long hair that reached a bit below both of his shoulders received a gentle blow from the wind, flowing along with the natural force of it. Feeling restless, but not overwhelmed, his golden eyes gazed down at the right hand, to which he closed and opened a few times, finishing with a tight knuckle. To the side of his mansion, there was a smaller house, a training area that outlived countless generations, and his favorite place to be. In there he picked a silver weapon, one whose guard covered part of his right hand, protecting it, and leaving a thin, long blade to the front side, and added one of his favorite dirks to his waist.

“This little needle should do the trick.”

Contrary to most expectations, he placed it vertically behind his back, walking outside to the garden.

Upon reaching its center, he calmed his breath and with it, the mystical aura surrounding the entire territory vanished, making it devoid of any powerful presences. 

“Let’s see if they bite the bait.”

Upon the removal of the pressure, blackened-clothed men and women walked out from the mansion, stationing themselves around it, covering all the entrances, the standard procedure, whenever enemies came to dispute the head power. One of them walked to the front gate, opening it with haste, and returned to the front entrance with enormous steps. He was Afonso, the oldest of the butlers, and also the instructor of Astal’s children. 

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It didn’t take long for the natural instinct of the invaders to kick in, and through the front entrance, they walked in, some wielding weapons and fierce expressions.

“To think it would be more beasts...”

The elder next to him lowered his head slightly, “it is a beastful day, milord,” they exchanged minor laugher.

The predators approached with heavy steps, showing their great furry constitution, sharp claws, long noses, red and vile eyes, and of course, grey fur, very much like the origin, name, and fame of their clan. Of the many fiends, one in the middle particularly stood out, wielding a weapon bigger than the fox girl herself. A double-edged and sharp iron ax, made to cleave opponents in half from either side. A worthy weapon for a warrior to chop the heads of many and some trees along the way, if needed. As they halted in the distance, their gazes surveyed the entire garden, vast and beautiful. Filled with greenery, bushes with diverse forms, certainly hand handled by skilled gardeners, and a few trees whose apples rested on its branches. Further away from the mansion, there was a well with a rotating handle where the maids took water from as necessary. 

Upon noticing the few men stationed in the doors to the large building, and realizing that they didn’t seem interested in moving from them, the big one from the wolf kin, took a large step forward, roaring loudly, vibrating the air, before he followed with his own demands in a fierce tone.

“Give us the girl and no one needs to get hurt!” 

Astal took three steps to the side, lifting his chin higher, showing it to the beasts that he was pondering on the matter, following it with a humming sound, causing them to become restless. Once the man halted, he faced them solely with his head and bold gaze.

“I heard you’ve defeated your nemesis in this recent war, yet, why is it that you’re coming all the way into the humans’ territory for a tiny cub,” he smirked, “suspicious, isn’t it?”

“It’s none of your concern!” His big hand clenched onto the weapon, alerting the surrounding ones.

‘What a troublesome bunch,’ the man’s gaze showed nothing but a clear despise over his foes, hiding a glint of curiosity towards the child Keru brought, yet as his pride as the head, he couldn’t just allow anyone to sully the name Aria. Thus, to make a stand, he began walking towards them, placing his left hand behind his back, leaving the rapier in front of him, positioned vertically with the tip to the sky. An aged swordsman respected by many against vigorous young talents stood courageous among enemies, no longer with a cheerful face.

“Attack!” The wolf’s arm swung to the front, signalling everyone, not just with his own words, but also with his body, causing its kin to run to his opponent in an attempt to outnumber the man and end things quickly. Yet what followed in front of its very eyes was unreal.

Despite Astal’s age, his trained footstep took him to the side, forcing the upcoming enemy’s formation to be more like an arrow than a vast line that would be harder to defend against.

“I’ll be taking your heart.”

Tactful about his own position and the upcoming foes, he lunged himself, thrusting the tip of the needle accurately through the opponent’s chest. There was no defense. Incorrect. It’s not that there was no block, a parry, or even an attempt to evade, no. The difference in agility, expertise, and accuracy was just that large.

Without a moment to waste, he pulled back the rapier, kicking the corpse in front, causing it to fall on the diverse warriors, dividing them. Next, his feet took him to the left side, to which he aimed towards the closest one, and with a thrust, blood began drooling out of the enemy’s wrist, leaving a deep enough wound for death to be eminent within a matter of time if left untreated. A wailing followed from the pain it brought as the beast's blood-thirsty eyes gazed upon the inflicted arm.

“Curse you!” The maddened and hurtful beast spouted, receiving an additional impact of dead weight from its kin’s corpse. “Ah!” He faltered, and halted, along with the one next to him who held the dead one, thinking that this one was still alive.

“Your guard is down,” Without a moment’s notice, the rapier extended to the middle of the right foe’s eyes, whose arms were holding onto the corpse. A shock wave ran through the beast’s brain, and its arms, legs, and tail shivered for a few seconds out of his own will. The reaper had embraced yet another soul to its collection.

An unorthodox move followed, from one who embraced style and elegance, into his expertise. Therefore, like a whip, the rapier’s edge moved horizontally to the left, butchering half of the brain out from the head where it laid, gouging its beastly red right eye, accompanied by meat, skin, and a fountain of blood.

But it didn’t stop there. It continued till he cut the eyes of the one whose wrist bled to death, this one whose wound held his free hand. To no avail, since the newly found pain caused both of his furry hands to go instinctively higher into the sky as this one wailed in despair, causing a wave of crimson to fly mainly upwards.

“Not yet!” With a tighter grip underneath the weapon’s guard, the fingers held even more strength to it, and an extra slash flowed through the air, leaving two bloody hands behind, along with their own liquid streams, along with a distinctive painful howl that echoed deeply into Astal’s eardrums.

The arrow formation broke, and it became more like a line of five, with two dead, one bleeding to death, and two fresh opponents. At this newly situation, and organization by the enemy, the man’s feet took him away with a jump to the rear, creating some safe distance and the opportunity to regain some breath, taking a stance unto himself in a fashioned way with his body slightly leaned forward, his right hand in the air next to his head, and his feet distanced from each other, one further behind to the backside and the other remaining where he stood right below his waistline.

“Foolish human!” One of the warriors let his rage at him, vertically chopping with his single-edged ax, no different from the one used to take multiple hits at a tree, in order to bring it down.

The stance unfolded, and like a slingshot it released, the propelled rapier hit the enemy’s weapon in its side, causing some sparkles to fly. Due to the impact, the chop went next to the man’s body, failing entirely. And then it happened. The blade ricocheted from the hardened weapon, piercing tender meat, leaving a hole in the opponent’s throat.

In the corner of Astal’s eye, teeth gnawed at his left cheek, forcing him to duck while leaving himself empty-handed. From his waistline, he took out a dirk, one made of gold, with a ruby embedded in its base, getting a hold of the enemy’s claws that followed, causing their pierce to come to a halt. A secondary attack, in the slight chance the sharp fangs missed.

“Do you require a hand master?” A butler’s voice reached Astal ears, whose youth was far gone in the past, who now sweated a lot; holding his position the best he could.

Often unmatched in duels, but like many who may call themselves an honored knight, we could mention little more when fighting many at the same time. That’s how prominent men came to meet their end during wars. But certainly, there was a hidden reason that one would not normally see with their naked eyes, no matter how trained these could be. After all, Astal had aged till this day, and he had participated in worse battlefields where the number of enemies was far more numerous and skilled. 

Upon noticing the smug on his master’s face, Afonso smiled, bowing with the utmost respect, understanding that the warm-up was now over.

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