Everyone blinked at me in confusion. Everyone except Mom. She understood immediately.
"Trust me," I added. "They'll be a great help."
Soon enough, Rebecca and Lily joined us, and the rest of the staff was dismissed. The doors shut, locking us in with nothing but tension.
"Okay, let's start this meeting," Mom said gravely.
"Before that, let me do this." I raised a hand and let mana surge outward. Frost crawled across the walls, the air growing sharp and biting. My ice magic enveloped the entire room in seconds, creating a soundproof barrier. "Now we're ready."
Mom gave me a brief nod before she began to explain everything. Her words were steady, measured, but weighty. And to drive the point home, she used her illusion magic to show my past-life appearance.
I expected gasps, questions, maybe shock. Instead, their reactions were... flat. They simply nodded, saying it made sense. The casualness of it cut deeper than I'd expected.
It stung more than I cared to admit. Was my past self really so obvious that none of them were surprised?
That changed when the topic shifted to Yua.
Rebecca and Lily exchanged knowing glances and declared it made sense-because, apparently, I was "clearly submissive."
I tried to argue. I really did. But every protest I raised only dug me deeper. By the end, I slumped in defeat with my cheeks burning, while the others looked far too smug.
Dean, meanwhile, looked disappointed. Until Mom casually exposed one of his secrets as well. He went quiet instantly, sulking in a corner.
"That is a problem," Rebecca said once the explanations concluded. She tapped her chin, thinking deeply. "But it's easy to fix. Let me train Amari."
"NO!?" Mom and I barked in unison, slamming our hands on the table.
Rebecca clicked her tongue. "Tsk. Fine."
Dean, who had been quiet until then, leaned forward. "Okay, I got this. Let's start with you," he said, looking squarely at me. "With your looks, you'll most likely end up with someone strong. I don't have much advice to offer on that topic. but at least get me a good daughter-in-law." He concluded his statement with a solemn nod, as if he were delivering divine judgment.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "I'll... try," I muttered.
"Yeah, I was surprised you were somebody at first," Lily chimed in with a teasing grin. "But thinking about it, it makes sense. Your habits never changed. The funniest part? No matter the world, no matter the body, you always look scary. Even the eye thing came back to you." Her smile softened. "But how did you get that scar, anyway?"
"I'll tell you after this problem is solved," I promised. She nodded and leaned back, satisfied for now.
Dean cleared his throat, his voice shifting to something heavier. "Now that we have addressed that issue, let's move on to the bigger problem. Amari. How are we going to make sure her fiance doesn't break her?"
The debate that followed was long and loud. Voices clashed, and ideas were tossed around, countered, and discarded. Amari's voice tried to cut in-pleading, protesting-but no one paid her any mind. Hours bled together until finally a consensus formed.
"So we've decided," Dean said, his arms crossed. "We'll bump up her training. If she lacks motivation, she'll watch a session with Rebecca and Lily." His tone suggested there was no room for negotiation.
"Un," everyone agreed. Everyone except Amari, who had her face buried in the table, groaning in despair.
Dean frowned, still puzzled. "How did we even get to this? And what's so special about their sessions?" His gaze shifted to Mom and me, but we both suddenly found the ice on the walls very fascinating.
"Hehe, you can join tonight if you like," Rebecca said with a sly smirk.
Dean paled instantly. "Gulp... on second thought, never mind."
"I began to explain the second point, but Granny lifted her hand." Her calm, steady voice broke through the chaos. "Can we take an hour's break first?"
"I suppose we could," I said, nodding. I dispelled the ice walls with a thought-only to reveal the main entrance doors had been reduced to splinters.
"What the hell?" Dean muttered, staring at the wreckage.
"Attack!" shouts rang from the hall outside. I shot to my feet, summoning a scythe in my hand.
Ten men burst into the room, their weapons drawn, eyes sharp. At first, everyone froze, unsure of what was happening. Then Daren's voice cut through the chaos like a blade.
"The one with the red hair-get her!?" He pointed straight at me.
The soldiers surged forward, but before they could move another step, Dean's voice rang out.
"What the hell is going on!?" His tone wasn't loud, but it boomed with raw authority. The air grew heavy, and my body locked in place for a split second, instinctively obeying his command.
I clenched my jaw, forcing my mana to surge. Muscles strained, veins bulged, but I broke through his compulsion. My body snapped free, and with a sharp motion, I swung the scythe onto my shoulder.
Dean smirked. "Haha, Stacy trained you well." He didn't seem surprised in the slightest that I'd broken free.
I just shrugged, my gaze already locked on Daren.
"So, Daren," Dean asked coldly, "why do you want to kill my daughter?"
"She attacked me!" Daren shouted. "She even used a spell on Rachel, making her believe this monster is an ally!" He gestured to the bruises on his body. They looked convincing-ugly, purple splotches across his arms and neck.
Mom and Dean both turned to me, their expressions demanding an explanation.
I shrugged again, nonchalant. "What? He attacked me first. I just defended myself."
"Was it really necessary to hurt him that badly?" Mom asked, one brow raised.
"I may have had a... jump in strength recently." I scratched my cheek sheepishly. "So yeah, I used all my power without realizing it. My speed caught him off guard, as he didn't anticipate my strength.
Dean's eyes narrowed. "A jump in strength? You're at the mid-private level, right? Do you know what your stats are at the moment?"
"Is the pledge still active?" Mom asked sharply.
"Yes and no," I said. "My strength is 795. My agility is 1140. Oh, and I'm level 27."
The silence that followed was deafening. Then came the collective choking of air. Half the Black Ops soldiers crumpled, fainting outright at the revelation.
Even Mom's eyes went wide with shock.
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Chapter 30: Sparring with Dean
"What sort of monster have you created, Stacy!?" Dean and Grandmother shouted at the same time, their voices overlapping in perfect outrage. The echo rang through the hall like thunder. Amari, meanwhile, was still frozen in a daze, her eyes wide and unfocused, lips parted as though she couldn't quite process what she'd just heard.
"She doesn't even have a class," Granny pressed on, her tone aghast. "And yet her stats are already that high. Normal people don't even unlock their class until their stats reach two or three hundred!" She shook her head slowly, almost disbelieving, as though her words offended her sense of order.
Mom, unfazed, folded her arms and asked the question I'd been dreading. "How are you only level 27 after killing seventy people last night?" Her eyes narrowed. "Albeit, they were just uncommon classes. The highest level among them was around 500. Excluding the commander that you took care of, of course." She rattled off the facts as though reading a ledger, her tone flat, but the weight of the words filled the room like smoke.
"Seventy people?" My voice came out thin, almost disbelieving. A cold shiver crawled up my spine. "Did I kill everyone last night?" I knew I was involved with the destroyed mansion, but I hadn't considered that not everyone had been killed.
"You don't remember?" Stacy's brows knitted together in confusion.
"No." I shook my head firmly, clutching at the fragments of memory. "From the moment I kicked Dizzy out of the mansion, everything got... hazy. The last thing I'm certain about is looking down at you in my fox form." My voice dipped lower, carrying a faint tremor of unease.
"I see." Mom studied me carefully, her expression unreadable. Then she straightened. "Let's take that break first. Then we'll talk about all this." She turned toward Daren, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "And we're going to make this look like it never happened."
Daren's mouth opened as if to protest, but the weight of her gaze pinned him down. With a stiff nod, he accepted the order. One by one, the others began filing out, cleaning and straightening the room as though nothing had transpired. The heavy atmosphere lifted only slightly.
"I will never get used to this family," Amari muttered, shaking her head as she trailed out of the hall.
"Kitsuna, do you want to have a spar?" The voice startled me. Surprisingly, it wasn't Mom who asked-but Dean.
I blinked at him, caught off guard. "...We can. But not a long one."
He gave me a single nod and, without another word, started walking out. I followed, my footsteps echoing in the hall. Behind us, Mom and Granny also fell in, silent observers to what was about to unfold.
The Training Grounds
The crisp air outside hit me first. Then the noise-the clamor of shouts, the clash of weapons, the steady rhythm of drills. The training grounds sprawled out before me, alive with movement. Soldiers sparred, jogged, or honed their techniques under watchful instructors.
A quick glance told me there were easily around a hundred people here, scattered across the field. Their disciplined formations stood in stark contrast to the chaos of the mansion.
"Why are there so many people training here?" I asked, curiosity pricking at me. "At the border mansion, I never saw anyone else train besides us."
Dean walked with steady steps toward a raised platform, answering without looking back. "That's because it's too dangerous there. Most of the people you see here are privates or corporals. Their instructors are, at most, sergeants. Gray is the only exception."
"Ooh, I see," I murmured, taking in the sight.
Dean suddenly cleared his throat. "Cough. Listen up!"
His voice cracked across the grounds like a whip. Immediately, every soldier froze mid-motion. Dozens of heads snapped in his direction. Silence fell.
"I am going to spar with my daughter really quick," Dean announced casually, as if stating the weather. "Clear out the field. You may watch the spar if you like."
For a moment, there was silence. Then a man with short gray hair and sharp black eyes, wearing an instructor's uniform, stepped forward. "Dean, wasn't Amari a mage type?" His tone was puzzled and skeptical.
Dean smirked. "Yes, she is. I'm talking about my other daughter."
The words dropped like stones in water. Shock rippled through the field.
"What!?" Half the soldiers erupted at once, their disbelief carrying across the grounds.
Dean raised a hand for silence. "She was adopted three years ago. She lived with Stacy at the border until yesterday."
The murmurs spread quickly-surprise, whispers, curiosity. The instructor, however, didn't waste time. "I see. Okay, everyone! Earth users, make an arena! Make it big enough so we can all watch the spar!"
At his command, the soldiers sprang into motion. Mana churned through the ground as earth users molded the terrain, raising sturdy walls and shaping a wide ring. Others began clearing debris, setting benches, or taking positions along the edges.
Watching the bustle, I turned to Dean, raising a brow. "What's going on?"
His wry smile said it all. "I'm sorry. I didn't want you to meet them like this. Sigh... Gray sometimes takes everything too seriously."
I followed his gaze to the instructor. He was already striding toward us with brisk, purposeful steps.
"But this is important," Gray said firmly as he approached. His voice carried authority, calm yet heavy. "All of us need to know who is part of the house."
He stopped in front of me, his height almost matching mine. Although his expression softened slightly, he continued to study me carefully with his eyes. "My name is Gray. No surname."
I grinned, tilting my head. "Yo. My name's Kitsuna. And before you ask-I'm the same age as Amari."
His brows rose slightly. "Ooh, you're really tall for your age."
"Yeah. There's something... special about my race," I said with a shrug.
"Not a normal demon fox, then?" Gray chuckled. "I'm excited for your spar." His laughter was warm, not mocking. Then he glanced at the nearly complete stage. "Do we need to prepare any weapons for you, young miss?"
I shook my head. "No need. And no formalities with me."
"Understood." With a nod, he turned and walked back toward the stands.
Dean tapped my shoulder. "The stage is done. I'll formally introduce you to everyone another time."
I nodded back and stepped onto the freshly raised platform.
The Sparring Match
The arena was simple but sturdy-stone walls rising waist-high, the ground hardened for impact. Soldiers crowded the elevated edges, their faces a mix of curiosity and anticipation. Every eye was locked on us.
I rolled my shoulders, exhaling slowly as Dean stepped onto the stage opposite me. He stood five meters away, a greatsword resting in his hand, his stance deceptively loose. But the sharp gleam in his eyes betrayed his focus.
Taking my eyes off him for a moment, I scanned the crowd. Their expectant stares only added pressure. My lips twisted into a faint smile.
"Sigh... Let's make this a good show, shall we?" I muttered under my breath.
"Are you ready?" Gray's voice rang out from the edge of the arena.
Dean and I both nodded.
"Good. Start!?"
The sudden shout caught me off guard. Dean was already moving, charging forward with surprising speed.
I didn't flinch. Instead, I conjured a set of ice daggers with a flick of my hand and hurled them low, aiming for his legs. He weaved through them effortlessly, a small frown tugging at his mouth as he closed the distance.
At two meters, I conjured a scythe and swung in a wide arc. Dean stepped back just in time, the blade slicing through the air in front of him. I pressed forward immediately, swinging again, but he stepped in close, ducking under the scythe's sweep.
"As a scythe user," he said calmly, swinging his sword in counter, "you need to understand its weaknesses."
Smirking, I let the scythe dissolve, replacing it instantly with two short swords. One intercepted his greatsword, the other thrusting forward toward his gut. His eyes widened briefly, surprised by the sudden switch, before he leapt back out of reach.
