Day 21

I sat on the head of a giant spider while it shivered under me. Steel-plated legs shifted nervously from their nervous movements the corpse of a Kitsunite fell off the platform behind me. In my peripheral, a spy wearing black with two tails with a small camera crew was sneaking away. My blades remained sheathed, and no skill tore them apart just before they crawled on the ground like maggots out of range. Watchers from a nearby castle were sending a report through a clicking device down a large set of wires. A sniper far off in a nest shook as their fingers struggled to move.

Bang!

My head rocked back to the side, only for a heavy flat disk to fall in my lap. Blood welled up from the wound before Regeneration closed the flesh wound, leaving no scar. Wrath boiled in my blood, hungry to be unleashed. There was something about the dungeon that shortened my temper.

Chemicals flowed out of chimneys and filled the air with smog. The beautiful medieval fantasy world I was just starting to like had been tossed in the trash to be discarded. Mounts that chimera rabbits once rode had taken over and become the dominant monster in this dungeon.

I missed my chance to take Isobel here and get her reaction. I slashed my blade and sheathed it. Fell Slash crossed an insane distance and cut the sniper in half.

“Are you alright? You seem different?” Fu asked.

I closed my eyes and let the feeling of invincibility wash away, leaving only embers left of my anger. My finger twitched and a slash of fell energy cut through a cannon. Fell was by far the energy I was most familiar with. Kitsunites had it in their blood, their weapons, and their building material. To them, I might as well be a natural disaster.

“Sorry, I’m just having a pity party for one here. The dungeon made this actually winnable, or maybe I’m overthinking this. Maybe the Kitsunites specialized their technology too much. Fell energy is practically filling the air. Psychic skills are weak here, but fell is easy.” I said.

“Would you rather fight my mother again?” Fu asked.

Fu’s smirk was cute. She kissed my forehead where the bullet hit me. “You need to take better care of yourself. You’re already covered in blood again.”

Being nagged at by her felt ok.

I turned my attention to a plane making an escape and pointed my finger. A lance of fell energy blasted out from the structure, half covered in steel. Dozens of lances followed, firing at subsonic speeds at the fleeing aircraft.

Fell energy was also psychic, but the other half of an equation. When psychic power impacted the world, the force of its existence created a reaction. By pressing on, reality fell pressed back. That was my hypothesis from repeated use of both fell and psychic energy. I could be wrong, and there were probably articles about the topic.

One of my lances struck a wing in a burst of purple light.

“The plot thickens,” I said.

“You already wiped out hundreds of them,” Fu said.

“They exploded with purple light every time I hit an engine or a fuel line. When my fell energy gets near them, the skill homes in like its targeting the fuel lines and engines.” I said.

“Where does psychic fuel come from? Wait, they fly with telekinesis.” Fu asked.

I danced the Gemini Waltz atop the giant spider’s head. Hank, the red hawk, flew down and landed behind me.

“What are you doing?” Ms. Birdmask asked.

“I’m dancing to the tune of the cosmos. The stars are my partner.” I stopped mid-swing and turned off my deadly partners. Twins were always great dates. Another thing I may never get to enjoy. “Have you found what you were searching for?” I asked.

“I can’t figure out this dungeon’s theme.” Ms. Birdmask said.

Dancing put me in a mood, and I felt like expressing it. “We’re in the ruins of the old one, and the current iteration stands in all her glory. She is a dirty wench wearing a see-through dress of smog, with skin of steel, and burning coal for blood. Look upon her with pity; her time is up, and no one will mourn her passing. To be great, she must tear down tradition and honor to exploit and enslave.” I said.

I had options, and my mapping skill absorbed the maps I looked over, which would help me in my one-man campaign to see this city fall and its people scattered. The longer I stood in the ruins of the floor before, the more certain I was in my actions.

“While that painted an interesting picture with your words, I meant, what role are we taking. We found no artifacts here in these ancient ruins or inheritances. I saw no herb gardens kept for millennia or pill stores. Only skill shards, chianswords, crossbows, pieces of armor, and unidentified fruits had dropped so far.” Ms. Birdmask said.

I tossed her a healing potion.

Meng Bai caught it. “This is unexpected.”

“Alchemy here rarely turns their ingredients into pills. We prefer inhalants, potions, or crystals. How about we see what’s in the city? I’m sure our resident tamer is dying to tame a nice foxy girl.” I said.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“I’m not interested in getting my dick ripped off,” Scout said.

“Do you know who got Tony?” Martin asked.

“Was he cut into pieces with his guts steaming in a pile, with his head resting on top, and with a horrified expression on it?” I asked.

“No,” Martin said.

“Then I wasn’t the one who did him in. Can you tell me where his corpse is? I would like to take some selfies and maybe make a poster for my wall.” I asked.

“Let’s focus. I’ve heard of this scenario before. Time flows normally until the society is destroyed. For the dungeon to hasten the passage of time, we must bring this city down, and tomorrow we will see a new, better world.” Ms. Birdmask said.

“I love assumptions.” The group stared at me like I had a screw loose.

…

In black and white, the calamity seemed to vanish only to appear to cut down loyal soldiers. Death followed the monster, and it was glorious.

Farnsworth was a battle chicken born in a Kitsunite-run hatchery. As a rooster, he was destined to be culled and turned into meat for the very monsters he served. That didn’t happen as a stroke of luck; he displayed a rare skill to manipulate the wind.

He was taken from the farm and given an education. After learning of the watered-down nonsense of the empire’s history, Farnsworth gained a hunger for the truth. In his journey of enlightenment, he learned that the ruins outside the great city once housed the kingdom ruled by his people. The foxes were once nothing more than beasts of burden ridden by chimera rabbits.

There were battles between the battle chickens and the chimera rabbits over the honor of the once most superior weapon of war, the chainsword.

So when he saw the calamity wielding a chainsword in the ancient make of his people, he knew this was destiny. The Kitsunites would fall for what they did to his people, and when the dust settled, there would be a new order. Only one woman made him second-guess himself. His savior was also his greatest enemy.

He still remembered the first time he met the emperor in person. The Kitsunite was making a meal of the hen that laid him. Akane refused to eat because it upset him. She was different; at least to him, Akane showed respect.

“Minister Farnsworth, do we have the finances to pursue this war?” Akane asked.

The treasury would be full of the former emperor’s clever planning and frugal spending. Teams of Kitsunite accountants once worked tirelessly to audit and limit military spending to get the maximum outcome for their coin. Blackmail, scandals, and so much poison had culled their numbers until the treasury lay unguarded. A few clever booking tricks he learned from the very accountants he blackmailed helped him siphon the empire’s wealth and hide it in a number of dummy accounts and research institutions. Time and patience had allowed him to set the empire up for a knockout blow it would never recover from.

“I will find the money; we may have to go into debt with some of the well-off corporations, but we can expect a massive return soon. We can borrow with high-interest rates since we are guaranteed to make the returns. I don’t think we will have a shortage of capital.”

“Are civil programs so expensive?” Akane asked.

Farnsworth looked around but none were willing to look him in the eye. Win or lose, Kitsunites would not rule at the end of this.

“We can not fight this foe like we have others. He is not an army, and we can’t treat him like one. We need heroes that can defeat this monster.” Akane said.

“Did you say heroes?”

Farnsworth nearly broke his own neck to look at the crackpot head scientist of the defunct superior soldier program. He had no eyes; only scarred tissue remained on his head, with only one ear remaining unburnt. A single black orb with a purple iris floated over the man’s shoulder, seeing for him.

“Dr. Raito, you came to save me,” Akane said.

She broke decorum and rushed to the broken Kitsune’s side. On the inside, Farnsworth seethed. The Shogun was killed by the calamity not in a mighty duel but as an afterthought. Planes fell like gnats before a gale, and the last true ally of the empress had come with strange fell powers not seen since the empire’s founding. It was an upset he wasn’t expecting.

When he caused the scientist's accident, Farnsworth assumed that would be the end of the man’s career. Through darkness and pain the man returned to duty a true fell fox if there ever was one.

“I had created a jell that, when rubbed into a subject’s brain, will induce the evolution of their latent full potential.” Dr. Raito said.

It was completely insane rambling. A statement with no proof.

“Nonsense, you can’t believe this. He’s obviously insane from his injuries.” Farnsworth said.

“I understand you do not like my friend. But don’t be jealous, Minister Farnsworth. I’m not replacing you; my heart is big enough for more than one friend.” Akane said.

“Indeed, it is good to have many friends. You never know what they might tell you about friends of friends.” Dr. Raito said.

It was telling that the man didn’t have the guts to oust him in this meeting. Either national pride took precedence, or he had no evidence. Either way, while Farnsworth controlled the finances and the accountants informed the empress of those finances, it would be easy to blame embezzlements on the man. In less than a month, he would turn Akane against the man, and then it would be time to get rid of their dear empress if the calamity didn’t end this empire first.

“You will have whatever you need to help save our empire. Farnsworth writes Savior a blank check. I don’t care where the money comes from. We need to win.” Akane said.

…

In a hidden room in the bowels of the royal palace, she watched a replay of the massacre of the 44th.

What kind of being could so callously slaughter her soldiers like a kitsune in a battle chicken nursery? Her answer was a sad one. There was no smile on his face when he slaughtered; it was a chore to him as he waved his blades and unleashed death in a beautiful dance. Akane found her mind wandering picturing herself dancing with the only male with the status to be her superior. As she was the leader of her nation, he was the destroyer.

“As you can see, he wields the very fell in our atmosphere as a weapon. The dungeon has set against us a terrifying foe. I believe we have barely seen the tip of the bayonet with this one.” Dr. Raito said.

“Calamity wasn’t just a fancy name the spirit gave him,” Akane said.

“I have worked in secret for decades on this project for your father. While others will believe my work is only now rising from the ashes, my results are ready for deployment.” Dr. Raito said.

50 soldiers were all that stood between her nation’s annihilation and a prosperous future. She watched the men march, each a Kitunite with 5 tails and some with 7, the most she had ever seen. They were the strongest she had ever heard of.

“Their bodies are enhanced with alchemic elixirs designed to improve muscle growth. Procedural injections of liquid fell turned them from one-tailed kitsunites into the warriors you see before you. While it stops their growth completely, they have become more powerful than most do in their entire lifetimes. Bone marrow injections have made their bones more flexible and harder than steel. While most can expect to only live for 5 years before tumorous growths ravage their bodies, a few have a chance to live full lives. Allow me to be the first to introduce to you your praetorian guard.” Dr. Raito said.

“The emperor is the empire.” She whispered.

“I have no doubt the calamity will target you to decapitate our empire. So I suggest you find a nice young noble and have children without delay. None of your cousins remain killed by assassins to isolate you from anyone who might counsel you. I fear we have let outsiders too close to the levers of power.” Dr. Raito said.

“Thank you, Dr. Raito, but Minister Farnsworth is trustworthy. I know it because I protected him from being culled when he was a chick. There is no one more loyal than him.” Akane said.

The old fox snorted, but she paid him no mind.

…

“How are we going to destroy an empire?” Martin asked.

“I was also curious,” Scout said.

We waded through the dirty river leading into the city. Blood filled the water as I cut gator monsters into pieces. No one guarded the entrance, thanks to the hundreds of monsters attacking anything that twitched wrong.

A smile slowly spread across my face. It was a good question.

“Honestly, my go-to method in this situation is a windstorm,” I said.

“That sounds dangerous to the rest of us.” Meng Bai said.

“So, what is your current plan.”

“I thought I would find the Finance Minister and force him to cause a financial crisis. That’s how most empires fall well that and foreign wars.” I said.

“I assure you no dynasty fell for such methods in our country.” Ms. Birdmask said.

“No, just rampant alcoholism.” Meng Bai said.

“Young master, whose side are you on.” Ms. Birdmask said.

I thought about it but shook my head. There wasn’t enough time; I wanted to be back home in time to cook supper. Ration bars were weapons of mass demoralization.

“So what if instead I seduce the empress and have her turn the empire into a true democracy.”

“No offense, but she’s a fox,” Martin said.

I noticed none of them questioned if that would destroy the people. Actual democracies were nightmares that often failed in bloody revolutions, scattered people, and a complete collapse of society. Really, all I had to do was throw in a little propaganda, hand out some weapons, and wait.

I nodded my head, but it seemed he wanted to make a greater point. “Aren’t you scared she’ll rip you apart?”

“Oh, and here I assumed you were talking about whether our parts would match up,” I said.

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Martin said.

“Oh, I should up my Constitution just in case,” I said.

Martin and Scout rolled their eyes at my little joke.