"She left," Mother said smoothly, folding her arms. "Now tell us about her curses."
"Not happening," Stacy said flatly. "She told me not to say, so I'm not telling."
"Is she your boss now?" Mother teased sarcastically, raising a brow.
"No." Stacy's voice sharpened, her jaw tight. "She's my daughter. I will not push her too much. If it weren't for me, she would have never told you about what happened to her at all." The anger in her tone silenced the table.
Amari shifted uncomfortably. "Mom... I just want to know about her year after she killed her father. What did she do the entire year before she came to my school? She never went into much detail."
Stacy's expression softened slightly. "She went sightseeing. And if someone attacked her... she would torture them. Things like that."
Amari's face paled. "Torture them?"
"Yeah. She found it as an outlet for all her frustrations." Stacy's gaze was steady, her voice gentle but unwavering. "Before you think too much, she only ever did it to bad people. Never the innocent."
"Talking about torture," Mother said suddenly, cutting into the tension. "Kitsuna wants to do that with the guards from yesterday."
"I was planning on that," Stacy admitted. "I want her to teach our interrogation teams some... fun ways to get information out of people."
"Yeah, with her knowledge of the human body, it'll help a lot," Dean added, already thinking like a soldier.
"Before I forget-Dean," Stacy said as she stood, her tone brisk again, "go tell everyone we have a giant fox pet called Nova."
"Huh?" Dean blinked, looking completely lost.
"Dean, just go and tell them. You'll understand later." Rebecca rose with a small smile and started toward the door. "Also, don't prepare a room for her yet. I don't think she'll be sleeping inside." She directed the last part to the maids busy cleaning up the table.
Dean shook his head, bewildered but obedient. "I guess I need to do some work, then. See you guys at dinner." He got up, muttering to himself as he went to warn his troops.
Meanwhile, I had already been running for hours. 'What the fuck is this!? I've been running for five hours, and I still don't feel any fatigue!' My chest heaved more from frustration than exhaustion. 'No matter how long or how fast I go, it doesn't feel like anything's happening. The only thing going up is my irritation.'
I skidded to a stop and sighed, hands on my hips, scanning the area. Night had already fallen, yet I could see perfectly. 'So night vision activates automatically. Great.' I turned slowly, searching for a spot to cool down when I felt it-something tugging at me, like an invisible thread. My gaze snapped toward the source.
A tree. Not just any tree, but a monstrous one-over twenty meters tall and thirty meters thick. The trunk looked older than time itself. 'If I didn't know better, I'd think I was crazy for feeling like this thing is calling me.'
I walked toward it, my footsteps quieter now, and sat down beneath its massive roots. The air around it felt heavy, alive.
"I guess I'll try out my new skills and figure out what happened to my body." I muttered, erecting ice walls around myself for privacy. Stripping down, I shifted into fox form. To my shock, instead of my smaller morning size, my body expanded, fur stretching, and bones lengthening until I stood eight meters tall and twenty-five meters long. The ice walls shattered under the force of my transformation.
I stared at my massive paws. "Is this... my true size?" I whispered.
I paced beneath the colossal tree, agitation in my chest fading with each step. Then it clicked. "It's because I wasn't in my true form earlier... that's why I was so irritated." Relief flooded me, though it came with another realization. "But that means... I won't be able to sleep in a bed anymore." My ears drooped. The thought stung more than I expected. Still, the relief of understanding outweighed the disappointment.
'I'll just have to get used to living outside. How hard can it be?' I thought stubbornly, padding in circles. My mind wandered to my new skills. Self-analysis had replaced evaluation. Curious, I looked at the tree and thought the command. A glowing screen appeared.
Guru Tree.
I blinked. 'That's it? Just Guru Tree? Whatever.' I dismissed the window and finally curled into a circle on the ground. My body pressed against the warm dirt. 'Too warm.' With a grunt, I covered the ground in a wide circle of frost, the coolness soothing instantly.
As I settled, exhaustion finally tugged at my eyelids. My mind drifted. Why did I walk in circles before lying down? Ugh. I hope no one saw that. That's way too embarrassing.' Those were my last thoughts before I slipped into sleep.
Unfortunately for me, two people had seen it.
"Hehe, that was too cute," Lily whispered, watching from the shadows with Rebecca beside her. "She was like a dog, turning circles to find the perfect spot."
Rebecca chuckled softly, her smile warm. "That's true. And... about this afternoon, I'm sorry for staring at Kitsuna."
"It's fine," Lily admitted, her voice sheepish. "If I hadn't walked away, I would've been in the same state as you."
Rebecca raised a brow but nodded. "It doesn't surprise me. She's so lean, built like a beast... And don't get me started on her six-pack. Any woman would fall for her."
"That's true. Wasn't she walking through the entire mansion like that?" Lily asked, still smiling faintly.
"Yes. Yes, she was." Rebecca's voice was almost fond as she looked at the massive fox sleeping peacefully under the tree.
"I wonder how loud the maids' sleeping quarters will be tonight," Lily mused.
"Haha, that's nothing," Rebecca replied, laughing quietly. "I heard some of the Black Ops say she was also walking around like that during their sparring. Just imagine the barracks tonight."
"Poor guys," Lily said with mock pity. "They'll hear it, but they won't get anything out of it."
"Who cares about them?" Rebecca scoffed, her disdain sharp. "It's their fault they got split up. Tsk, trying to pick up girls while still stuck at private rank. How pathetic."
Hmm, Should I tell you guys about the word count?
Like most of the chapters are way above my target(1400).
Well hope you enjoyed the chapters so far.
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Chapter 34: Zagan Anlit
(Zagan Anlit POV)
It has already been eight years since my class and I were reincarnated into this world. Sometimes it still feels surreal. In my previous life, I was a teacher-the kind of woman who would scold students for dozing off and then stay up too late grading, sneaking a manga chapter between stacks of essays. I loved fantasy stories-swords, castles, magic-and that probably made it easier to understand what happened to me when I woke up here. Understanding, though, wasn't the same as accepting. It took a long time for the muscle memory of the old life to stop twitching under the skin of the new one.
Getting used to this body and this station wasn't immediate either. The food tastes cleaner here, sharper at the edges; the sky stretches wider, like the world is always inhaling. And then there were the people-bowing, waiting, anticipating my needs before I had them. As a normal teacher, you never have servants. In the first years I'd flinch when someone called me "young master" and try to carry my own tray just to prove I could. Now I catch myself waiting with an empty hand, expecting a cup of tea to appear in it, and it does. I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy the convenience. The best part of being young in a new world is the excuse to experience everything for the first time again: to be shamelessly curious, to learn like you're starving.
And this world fits me a little too well. There's no stale smell of exhaust, no stacked glass cages scraping the sky. The roads are dirt and stone, the nights actually get dark, and if someone wants to make a point, they draw steel rather than draft an email. War hammers, sabers, spears-real tools with weight and grain and balance. In my past life, I spent half a paycheck at a time on replica weapons and bored my favorite student, Shiro Adachi, with photos and specs. He'd listen with that sly little grin, the one that said he was amused and too polite to say so. Thinking about that used to warm me; now it's a cold echo.
Because I know who he was. Because under the smile and the neat notes and the quiet competence, he was a mass murderer. The boy I called a friend killed his family and everyone who worked for them. I test the thought sometimes, like pressing on a bruise: does it still hurt? Yes. Different pain, duller, but still there.
He doesn't matter, I tell myself. Not anymore. What matters is Amari.
Even now, the idea of being engaged to her feels like something I dreamed too hard and then got punished by waking up as someone else. She's beautiful in this effortless, dangerous way-like a flame that doesn't notice itself burning. When she looks at you, her eyes soften and sharpen at the same time, and you want to do better because she's watching. I fell for her at first sight, and then again when she laughed, and then again when she said my name like it was a promise. The twist? She's also one of the reincarnations from our class. That fact tied my old teacher-self in knots. Me, marrying a former student. We talked. She was patient. I confessed. She didn't flinch. It's different here, we told each other. We are different here.
It helped that I changed, too. In my past life I was a woman; here, I'm a man. Gender-bent, yes. The first time I saw my reflection, I stared so long I forgot to breathe. Strange at first, then a relief, then something I stopped second-guessing. It didn't change how I felt about Amari. If anything, it made it easier to let the feeling stand without apology.
Two days ago she and her father traveled to their border mansion to see her adopted sister-the one they took in three years ago who never once visited the capital. Amari was nervous, excited, and a little jittery in a way that made me want to hold her shoulders until the jitters had somewhere to go. Then the message came: attack. The mansion-destroyed.
I didn't think; I went cold. My mind jumped ahead to scenes my body wasn't ready for: Amari under stone, Amari surrounded by men in iron, and Amari's voice trapped somewhere I couldn't reach. I contacted Sebastian, their head butler. He took his time answering, as if he knew I'd fill the silence with fear and it would make the relief hit harder. "She's fine," he said. "Shaken. They are returning to the capital." I thanked him and then thanked him again, like gratitude might bribe the world to keep her safe.
They returned quickly thanks to the "creators"-two in the royal family, both reincarnated nerds from our class, who decided the laws of distance were just another exam to pass. The trip that should have taken days took hours. Amari sent a short note that night: tomorrow, come. I didn't sleep much. I kept getting up, thinking I'd forgotten something, putting on a cloak and taking it off, and checking my blade edges even though we both knew I carry my swords in the place that follows me everywhere, like a well-trained shadow.
The gates of the mansion creaked open with their familiar sigh of old hinges, and I stepped through with my heart beating a little stupidly hard. I expected Amari on the steps, or at least a maid to lead me to her. Instead, Lady Draig stood there with her arms folded, the morning light outlining the line of her jaw like the edge of a knife. The Weapon Queen in a casual mood still looked like she could commandeer an army by clearing her throat.
"Good morning, Lady Draig. It has been a long time," I said, bowing deeper than necessary because my body fell back on old formal gestures when my head was busy remembering not to be terrified.
She studied me with a conflicted look, like she had two thoughts and neither would cede the floor. Then she shook her head once, sharply. "How many times do I have to tell you not to do this formality nonsense here?" she said. "Where are your guards?"
I straightened and unclenched my hands. "I dismissed them. I wanted to be alone with Amari today."
Her mouth curved, not quite a smile. "I don't think that will happen. Her sister is here. They're catching up."
The way she said "sister" carried weight, like a name dropped on a table. I tried to set mine down beside it without scratching the wood. "I almost forgot," I said. "I hope nothing happened to her in the attack."
Lady Draig's laugh was brief, bright, and not comforting. "You don't need to worry about her. She isn't a pushover."
I hesitated. "Forgive me, but... With you here, how could the mansion still be destroyed? How many enemies attacked?"
"Seventy, give or take," she said, like she was estimating loaves of bread for a feast. "And the mansion wasn't destroyed by them. It was my daughter." Her eyes flicked up to gauge how I received that. I must have made a face, because she added, "Where did you get your information?"
"Sebastian," I said. "And-wait. Amari destroyed the mansion? She's only thirteen." My voice did that crack. I wish it didn't do that when my brain sprints faster than my breath.
She chuckled. Not unkind, but not soft. "You'll find out soon enough. When you see Amari, let her tell you the truth about Nova and Kitsuna. You'll be family in a couple of years; you may as well start hearing it from us." She turned and walked back inside, her shoulders saying the conversation was finished even if my questions were spilling over.
I took a breath and let the familiar corridors pull me along. I know this house well-how the carpets swallow footsteps, how the paintings on the second-floor landing pretend not to look back, how the garden smells at different hours. Four years of engagement teaches you the small rhythms of a place. Amari has a favorite bench out there, under a tree that used to look ordinary before today, and she goes to it when she wants to think where no one thinks she's thinking.
She was there now, a quiet figure framed by green, the sunlight threading gold through her hair. The sight knocked something loose in my chest. I smoothed a hand over my cloak, for no reason other than to put my fingers somewhere, and put a smile on my face.
"Good morning, beautiful lady. May I have a seat next to you?" I asked, giving the dramatic bow she pretends to hate and secretly expects.
"Zagan!" She didn't pretend this time. She sprang up, the bench scraping lightly, and threw herself into my arms. Her laugh hit my shoulder and stayed there. "It's so good to see you again."
