Whenever she had a spare moment at the garrison, Celia studied nine-tailed foxes.

　　“A fox demon cub can begin shapeshifting into the form of a human child in its tenth year and will reach adulthood in its twentieth year…”

　　Celia bent so close over the book that her nose nearly touched the page, reading every word carefully.

　　It was an extremely rare volume brought over from the Eastern Continent.

　　She had read the section on fox demons until the pages were practically worn thin, yet one question still bothered her.

　　The priestess had said Rahn would reach adulthood in a year. That meant he was nineteen now.

　　So why hadn’t he taken human form?

　　Quite some time had passed since Rahn came into her life, but Celia had never once seen him shapeshift into a human.

　　Then again, strictly speaking, Rahn wasn’t an ordinary fox demon cub.

　　He was a nine-tailed fox cub. The only one of his kind in the world.

　　Perhaps that was the reason. Maybe nine-tailed foxes were different somehow.

　　Rubbing her temples, Celia turned to the section on nine-tailed foxes.

　　Compared to ordinary fox demons, there was frustratingly little written about the nine-tailed variety.

　　Almost nothing was known about them.

　　She slowly turned the page.

　　“A nine-tailed fox takes only one mate in its lifetime and is prone to obsessive attachment. When dealing with one, never harm its mate under any circumstances. Those who carelessly provoke a nine-tailed fox on the threshold of becoming a sacred beast will face terrible consequences…”

　　So nine-tailed foxes were monogamous.

　　Celia found that rather fascinating.

　　Most monsters and demons had no concept of a mate at all. Like ordinary animals, they found different partners each breeding season and produced offspring.

　　Was a nine-tailed fox’s mate supposed to be another nine-tailed fox?

　　Celia sank deeper into thought.

　　They seemed so rare that they existed only in legends. Did that mean Rahn would have to live alone until he happened to find another one?

　　She fretted over the possibility, completely forgetting that romance and marriage were things she herself could never even dream of.

　　Surely that could not be true.

　　Perhaps he could take a two- or three-tailed fox demon as his mate.

　　But even that was difficult to imagine.

　　Ordinary demons were incapable of reason. The moment they saw a human, they went mad with the urge to devour them.

　　Rahn taking something like that as his mate?

　　They seemed so fundamentally different that Celia wasn’t sure they could even communicate.

　　Then she abruptly wondered why she was worrying about any of this in the first place.

　　Rahn could deal with it himself when the time came.

　　Except… A nine-tailed fox took only one mate for life.

　　What happened if that mate died first?

　　Across from her, Schulla sipped her tea and slowly shook her head.

　　Celia remained oblivious.

　　She spent the rest of her shift worrying about the matter, and the moment she got home, she launched into a lecture before she had even put down her things.

　　“Rahn, listen to me. When choosing a female, health and strength are everything. Choose a strong one. One who’ll live a long, long time. All right?”

　　Rahn, who had been dozing, opened his mouth in an enormous yawn and looked up at her.

　　Celia ignored every sign that he was bored out of his mind and continued with grim determination.

　　“Of course, you’re already half a sacred beast, so she should be on your level. Strength alone isn’t enough. A stupid, vicious demon won’t do. If possible, choose someone kind.”

　　Rahn yawned again.

　　“Don’t look so bored. Look at this.”

　　Celia dug into her bag and pulled out a book, then another, and another.

　　She had told him to look, but thick volumes kept emerging from the enormous bag until it was unclear which one she meant.

　　Books about demons soon stood in small mountains on either side of her.

　　Rahn stared at them in silence.

　　Celia was too busy searching through the countless bookmarks she had tucked between the pages to notice.

　　The thick hardcovers were worn at the edges, and colorful notes protruded between the pages.

　　She already spent most of her time hunting monsters throughout the Empire.

　　When had she found the time to buy all these books and study them?

　　Rahn looked from the books to Celia.

　　With so many volumes to sort through, even she seemed to be getting a little lost.

　　“Ah, here it is.”

　　She opened one in front of him.

　　Her expression showed not the slightest doubt that Rahn could read.

　　“Here. Do you see this?”

　　Rahn gave a soft chirp.

　　“It says a nine-tailed fox takes only one mate in his entire life.”

　　Rahn gave another small chirp, barely glancing at the passage.

　　His eyes remained on Celia’s face.

　　She didn’t notice his intent stare and continued with growing earnestness.

　　“It’s part of your nature. An instinct. Even if you don’t want it, one female might end up holding your leash. You could imprint on her like a duckling.”

　　Rahn said nothing.

　　“That’s why you need to be careful. Choose a kind, strong mate who’ll live a long life. Understand?”

　　Her brows drew together with genuine concern.

　　“Imagine how heartbroken you’d be if your mate died before you. Or if she played with your feelings and abandoned you…”

　　As Celia continued, Rahn lowered his eyes and began licking her hand with his damp pink tongue.

　　His ears folded back as he concentrated.

　　Then he moved to her other hand and began licking that one just as diligently.

　　Celia watched him for a moment.

　　“I know. When the time comes and you’re worried about choosing a mate, why don’t you come to me? I’ll look her over for you.”

　　Now she was volunteering to play mother-in-law.

　　And besides, “when the time comes”?

　　A nine-tailed fox had no power to choose his mate in the first place.

　　It belonged to the realm of instinct.

　　Wasn’t human love much the same?

　　Whether a person wanted it or not, once someone drew them in, affection soaked into them little by little, like clothes growing wet in a fine rain.

　　The difference was that a human might eventually escape that love.

　　A nine-tailed fox never could.

　　Rahn was still a cub, but he had understood that distinction since birth.

　　He had been born with that knowledge, just as he had been born with the instinct to hunt.

　　Celia herself had said it.

　　It was instinct.

　　It was nature.

　　She was exactly right.

　　His mother, too, had shared a lifelong bond with a demon.

　　Rahn’s father had been a six-hundred-year-old snake demon, an enormous serpent.

　　He had died protecting Rahn’s mother, but he had been wiser than any human.

　　When demons of different bloodlines had children, the offspring usually took after only one of the two species.

　　Rahn had inherited his mother’s fox form.

　　Still, now and then he sensed that the serpent’s blood lay dormant inside him.

　　And serpents were notorious for being every bit as fiercely possessive of their mates as nine-tailed foxes.

　　His thoughts lingered on the word mate.

　　For reasons he could not explain, Rahn suddenly wanted to grow up as quickly as possible.

　　And strangely, that desire only became stronger whenever he looked at Celia.

　　“You let the nine-tailed fox out?”

　　A sharp voice rang out from near the front door.

　　Rahn lifted his head.

　　Schulla stepped inside.

　　“I asked Sister Schulla to check whether you’re growing properly and whether anything hurts,” Celia explained gently.

　　The real reason, of course, was that she was worried his failure to take human form might be caused by some physical problem.

　　She kept that part to herself and left the horrified Schulla behind while she went to fetch the cage containing Rahn’s food.

　　“Why don’t you eat in the bedroom today? You’ll probably be more comfortable there.”

　　Animals could tell with uncanny accuracy whether someone liked them or not.

　　Rahn was no exception.

　　He disliked Schulla, who treated him like a bomb that might explode at any moment.

　　That irritating priestess was as hostile toward Rahn as she was fond of Celia.

　　“Captain. Don’t tell me you’ve been leaving the nine-tailed fox loose like this the whole time.”

　　“He doesn’t attack anymore. He’s become very gentle.”

　　By now, Celia could even let her expression soften in front of Schulla.

　　Schulla stared blankly at that unexpectedly sweet face, then scratched at her inexplicably warm cheek and grumbled,

　　“Even so, you don’t leave him loose while you sleep, do you?”

　　“Don’t worry.”

　　“But he’s male.”

　　Schulla licked her dry lips and looked at Rahn.

　　“No matter how gentle he’s become, don’t let your guard down completely. Animals act on instinct. You never know when he might do something unexpected.”

　　Her gaze shifted meaningfully to Rahn, who was staring intently at Celia.

　　So Celia hadn’t been exaggerating when she said he had mellowed.

　　But this didn’t look like simple obedience.

　　Schulla narrowed her eyes.

　　Unlike Celia, Schulla was keenly perceptive.

　　She studied the male nine-tailed fox, trying to read the instincts and impulses he had been born with.

　　One thing seemed obvious.

　　He clearly liked the captain.

　　Schulla arrived at a conclusion dangerously close to the truth.

　　Was that little fox putting on an innocent act?

　　“Today I brought a chicken that only lives in the Piplos Region. It’s huge, isn’t it?”

　　Completely unaware of the tension between Rahn and Schulla, Celia smiled as she held up the cage containing his meal.

　　It was almost impossible to believe this was the same woman who seemed utterly transformed the moment she entered battle.

　　“Come along. Let’s go to the bedroom.”

　　Rahn obediently followed Celia into her bedroom.

　　She opened the cage containing the chicken, then stepped back out into the living room.

　　The terrified bird had gone rigid.

　　Rahn calmly pinned it down, bit into the back of its neck, and drew out its animal essence.

　　Normally, he would eat some of the flesh afterward to satisfy his hunger.

　　Today, however, he had little appetite for it.

　　The animal essence wasn’t rich enough.

　　At this rate, even another year might not be enough for him to reach adulthood.

　　The rule about fox demons reaching adulthood in their twentieth year assumed they fed on human essence.

　　Rahn ate nothing but animals.

　　A strange hunger crept through him, burning all the way to the tips of his tails.

　　Even during the years humans had abused him, he had never wanted so desperately to grow up.

　　Why was he so restless?

　　Whenever he looked at Celia and her innocent face, an inexplicable impatience rose in his chest until his heart felt ready to burst.

　　Sometimes Celia would suddenly go pale and lock herself inside her bedroom.

　　At those times, she wouldn’t even let Rahn inside.

　　Much later, she would emerge drenched in cold sweat and go straight to the bathroom to shower.

　　Whenever that happened, Celia smelled of pain.

　　Every time Rahn caught that scent, a terrible hunger came over him.

　　An emptiness that made him want to lick her from head to toe and devour every trace of it until it disappeared.