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Meanwhile—
Deep in the mountain forest behind the village.
Kurama lay sprawled across a massive ledge halfway up the peak, his nine crimson tails swishing lazily—each sweep snapping branches and scattering debris across the slope.
His chin rested between his front paws, eyes locked on several trembling draft oxen huddled before him. He was about to dig into his freshly "acquired" meal.
And then—
"NINE-TAILS! Don't you DARE eat those! My grandpa called in an expert to deal with you!"
A shrill, defiant voice cut through the forest from just up the slope.
It was the child from the village—small frame, clenched fists, eyes fixed on the mountainous fox-demon without blinking. His legs shook visibly, but he hadn't taken a single step back.
Kurama lifted one eyelid, glanced at the pint-sized human, and flicked his tails with casual disdain.
"Beat it, kid—you're embarrassing yourself."
"You? Calling in experts? Even if you dragged every last one of those Ninshū amateurs up here, they'd be nothing but a light snack. Don't make your Nine-Tails big bro laugh."
Kurama ran his tongue across his fangs, utterly unbothered.
"Unless you can get the Sage of Six Paths himself to show up—but that's pure fantasy. You think a legend like him has time for your missing cow?"
His voice dipped with something almost wistful. "Besides… even I haven't seen the old man in ages."
Dismissing the child entirely, Kurama lowered his head and opened his jaws wide—aiming for the fattest ox.
"Oh? Kurama, is it?"
A voice—quiet, measured, carrying the weight of absolute authority—materialized from thin air.
Every breath of wind in the forest stopped.
"Huh—??"
Kurama froze mid-bite. Jaw still open. Brain short-circuiting.
He raised his head with agonizing slowness, crimson eyes locking onto the source of the voice—pupils shrinking to pinpricks, face contorting into an expression of pure, undiluted horror.
Because there—stepping out from behind the child—
A figure in black-and-red robes. Tall. Poised. The Six Paths Sword at his side.
"You have GOT to be kidding me—they actually brought Master here??"
Kurama's mind went completely blank.
What kind of connections does this brat HAVE??
He actually got the Sage of Six Paths to make a house call??
If you had this kind of pull, why didn't you use it SOONER??
In the very next instant—Kurama's enormous body hit the ground with a resounding THUD.
All nine tails pressed flat against his back. His head buried itself between his paws. Every trace of swagger and arrogance had evaporated, replaced by the demeanor of a puppy caught shredding the furniture.
"M-M-Master… I… I…"
Kurama's voice came out in broken fragments.
Manji stood with his arms folded across his chest, gaze resting on the prostrate fox with calm, measured patience.
"I specifically told you—no terrorizing humans. No disrupting their livelihoods. And this is what I find after a hundred years? My words meant nothing to you?"
Kurama wanted to cry. He wanted to sink into the earth and disappear.
In all honesty, this was genuinely the first time he'd done anything like this.
For a hundred years, humans had hunted him, tried to capture him, attempted to harness his power for war. He'd followed his master's instructions to the letter—never fighting back, always fleeing. But the resentment had piled up until he'd finally snapped and stolen a few cows to blow off steam.
And of course—the one time he acted out, his master materialized out of thin air to catch him red-handed. After a century of perfect behavior.
"Master—please hear my defense!"
"This is genuinely the first time I've done anything wrong! For a hundred years I was a model citizen—never caused a single problem! The ONE time I slip up, and you just happen to show up…"
Kurama's voice cracked with desperate injustice.
"Is that so?"
Manji raised an eyebrow. A sweep of Sage perception confirmed it—Kurama carried barely a trace of violent history. The fox was telling the truth. No pattern of malice whatsoever.
"Fine."
"Return the livestock. Now. These people depend on those animals for their fields and their food. You take their cattle—you destroy their livelihood."
Manji gestured toward the terrified oxen.
"Yes, Master!"
Kurama complied instantly—his massive paw reaching out with exaggerated delicacy, nudging the cattle toward the child as if they were made of glass.
Then he shot the boy a withering glare, muttering under his breath: "You little punk… actually bringing my master here. But I guess I owe you one—I haven't seen the old man in a century."
Manji turned to the shell-shocked child with a warm smile. "Take the cattle home. I'll handle things here. That fox won't bother your village again."
The boy snapped back to reality—grabbed the lead rope—then dropped to his knees and pressed his forehead to the dirt.
"Thank you, Sage of Six Paths! The Sage is merciful!"
"Mm."
Manji watched the child bounce away through the trees, ox in tow, before turning his attention back to the massive fox still prostrate on the ground.
Kurama immediately pressed close—his enormous snout nuzzling against the hem of Manji's robes like an oversized, guilt-ridden puppy, desperate to explain everything that had happened.
"Master—I really was staying exactly where you placed me. Everything was fine for years. But then humans built a nation nearby, discovered me, and decided they wanted to capture me—use my power for their wars."
"I listened to you—I didn't fight back. I just ran. But no matter where I went, humans screamed the moment they saw me. They came at me with weapons. After a while, I just… I got angry. Stealing a few cows felt like the least I could do."
His tails drooped lower and lower with every word. "Master—you lied to me! You said growing up would let me see the wonderful world out there. But the world isn't wonderful at ALL! Humans are terrified of me. They want to use me. There's nothing fun about any of it!"
"Growing up isn't fun! The outside world is TERRIBLE!"
Manji looked at this creature—outwardly fearsome, inwardly just a child drowning in grievance—and felt something tighten in his chest.
Human history and its endless cycle of conflict—there was nothing he could do about that.
He reached out and gently placed his hand on Kurama's furry head.
"That was my oversight."
Manji spoke softly, then paused in quiet thought.
"This continent is sliding toward war. Human ambition is growing unchecked. It's not the right place for you anymore. I'll find you somewhere better."
Kurama's head shot up—eyes bright, tails perking—nodding frantically. "Yes! Whatever Master says!"
........
Manji personally guided Kurama to a new, safer territory.
And before they parted, he added one more instruction.
"If someone comes at you with the intent to kill—you have every right to fight back. No more restraint. If they force your hand, end them."
Manji spoke directly, leaving no room for ambiguity.
Kurama's eyes blazed with fierce gratitude. "Master always understands me!"
"And if you cross paths with the other Tailed Beasts—pass the message along. If humans insist on trying to kill you… you are all permitted to defend yourselves."
"When endurance reaches its limit, there is no longer any need to endure."
Kurama nodded with solemn fervor. Master was absolutely right.
If they come for blood—give them blood.
"Every word you've spoken, Master—all nine of us will carry it in our hearts. Always."
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Drop Some Powerstones~