"Hmm, it changed a lot in three months," Mom said, clearly impressed, her eyes scanning my status screen like she was trying to burn every word into memory.
"Yes, I owe all of this to my class," I said, practically glowing with pride. I couldn't help the big grin stretching across my face. It had been a tough road getting here, but seeing her reaction made it feel worth it.
"Is it, though?" Mom raised an eyebrow, skepticism creeping into her expression like a fog rolling over clear skies.
"What?" I blinked, caught off guard.
"You got a supporting class, Kitsuna. This is so misleading you can't even joke about it," she explained flatly, folding her arms.
"Oh yeah, that it is," I said, nodding without shame, "but it supports my skill set to the T!" I threw her a thumbs-up with a wink, hoping to deflect the scolding I knew was coming.
She didn't laugh.
"Well," she said slowly, her expression tightening, "if you had a dedicated attack class, we might have seen another nine-tailed fox going to ruin."
"... What?" I frowned. That came out of nowhere.
"You see, daughter," Mom started, slipping into lecture mode, her voice annoyingly calm, "if you had a class that made you a dedicated fighter, too many attack skills would overburn you. That kind of overload can easily make you weaker instead of stronger."
I immediately felt my head start to ache.
"Okay, okay, whatever, I don't really care about that," I said, waving my hands in the air and crossing my arms in defiance. That was my signal that the conversation needed to change. Thankfully, she caught on and moved on without a fight.
"Well, okay. Anyways, in the last few months, quite a lot of demi-fox came to our kingdom because of you," she said, her tone suddenly softer, more curious. "We also searched for them. You could even call them a small tribe already."
"A small tribe?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. That sounded... way more serious than I expected.
"Over forty of them. "I don't know the exact number," Mom said with a nod, as if she were discussing something as casual as a market haul.
"Ah, I see. "That's great," I said with a small smile. A soft warmth bloomed in my chest.
"It is. They will be a tremendous help in boosting military power in the future," she said, snickering. That snicker wasn't a positive sign.
"... Mom, what do you mean by that?" I said, narrowing my eyes. That dangerous glint in her eye wasn't helping.
"Oh, no, don't misunderstand. We're not forcing them to join," she quickly clarified. "We're actually declining them. We don't want them to enlist without your permission."
I let out a sigh of relief I didn't realize I was holding.
"Hmm, is that so?" I said, still eyeing her skeptically.
"Tsk, if it weren't for the king stopping me, I would have done it already," Mom muttered under her breath, her tone dripping with disappointment.
"Haha, I knew it," I said, rolling my eyes. "Well, Mom, they can join the Draigs anytime. They also want to include the Anabalds, but no one else is desired. Though—they must be of age. The usual things. I don't want them to go out and get killed."
"Yes, clan leader," Mom said teasingly, her grin stretching wider.
"Tsk, I will not be a clan leader," I snapped, already regretting my life decisions.
"Say that to them. They all believe you, the nine-tailed fox, are their queen and will lead them to greater heights," she said, bursting out in laughter as my face twisted in horror.
"Sigh… Even if I were that, it wouldn't have been difficult, considering they were treated as slave goods before arriving here," I muttered, sighing for the third time in under a minute.
"Take responsibility for this one, okay," she said. Her voice sounded normal, but somehow the words carried the weight of a decree. I knew then—I didn't really have a choice.
"Tsk, fine, fine. Did you find anything out about the previous nine tails?" I asked, switching topics before she started planning banners and tribal flags.
"Ah, not really. All I know about her is that she also had a god as a wife and killed herself by giving herself up for Gluttony to kill her."
"Gluttony?" I repeated, feeling a chill crawl up my spine.
"Yeah, that bastard is still alive," Mom said with a wicked smile blooming on her face, something feral flashing in her eyes.
"Heh, good, good," I said, grinning back at her, a matching smile pulling at my lips.
Clap.
"Let's get back on track, shall we?" Mom said, shaking her head, dragging both of us out of that vengeful haze.
"Right. Is there anything else you heard about the nine tails?" I asked, nodding seriously.
"Yes, quite a bit. Each tail possesses a unique ability along with several other characteristics.
"Oh? Do go on."
"First, the tails. At your class revival, you get three of them. Then, from level 300, you will get one every 100 levels. Each tail grants you an ability. In other words, you'll have nine tails with nine different abilities."
"That's intriguing. Do you know which abilities I will get?" I tilted my head at her, curiosity rising.
"That's the thing. I know about two of the powers, but I have no idea what the others are. No clue. One will be blood magic, and the other one will be immortality," Mom said, shrugging like she wasn't casually dropping game-breaking power into my lap.
"But I already have immortality? And another magic element?" I groaned. More training. Great.
"Yeah, your arsenal is only going to get bigger. Regarding immortality, I'm unsure how it differs from your current state of being. It could be a more refined version. It could be something spiritual. Who knows?"
"Sigh, it's fine. We'll figure it out later. Though what do you mean you only know about two? What about the other seven?"
"That, my dear daughter," she said, waggling a finger at me, "is because every nine-tailed fox is different. Especially you."
"Why especially me?" I asked, pointing to myself, confused.
"Because you're not connected to the sin of lust. Something that has never happened before."
"You mean—"
"Yes, for thousands of years, a nine-tailed fox held the sin of lust. Haha!" Mom laughed again, reveling in the horror on my face.
"So if gods meet me, they will—" I trailed off, already regretting this line of thought.
"Yeah, they'll want to fuck you," Mom said, laughing loud and free while I physically recoiled.
"Ugh, but she was married," I said instinctively, trying to find some logic in the madness.
"Don't worry, the previous one wasn't like that. And you're right. She was married. Loyal to her wife. That's what her right hand said, anyway."
"Sigh… I'll need to think about it later."
"Haha, don't worry. You won't have that problem. You're the sin of wrath. It has nothing to do with love or anything like it. However… you might struggle a bit more to control the sin. That's what I was told. But knowing you, I don't think it'll be a problem."
"Sigh. Thank the bones."
"Well, anyways, that's all I know right now about your bloodline. Let's get to your skills."
"Yeah, I got a few new ones and a few upgraded skills. Do explain them to me, please. I understand the functions of most skills, but spiritual magic remains a mystery to me, and mana sense is very broad in its applications.
"Firstly, it makes sense. I can teach you how to sense people, but you already have that. Hmm… I think I'll leave it to Steve."
"Huh?"
"It'll help in creating godly weapons. You'll see."
"Right?" I blinked. Still confused.
"Now for spiritual magic. All I can say is that you'll need to talk to a spirit to figure it out. I don't know anything about it. But… It seemed Kayda knew something. Ask her first."
"Sigh… dammit."
"Yeah, sorry."
"Okay, now explain to me how your cloning skill works."
"It can use up to 5000 mana. It all depends on what I make or want. For example, if I create a clone of myself, it requires 5000 mana, but the clone will only be half as strong as I am. I can also make weapons that sustain themselves. Those are way cheaper mana-wise."
Mom nodded, absorbing everything.
"I see, I see. That is fucking weird," she muttered, narrowing her eyes at me.
"What?" I said, baffled.
"That's not how it usually works, but I guess it doesn't matter." Next, your illusion magic."
"It's normal illusion magic, Mom. You have it too," I said, genuinely confused.
"Bullshit," she snapped, glaring.
"Ugh, fine, fine. I did not lie. It really is normal. It's just how you use it. Consider applying it to yourself rather than directing it towards others."
"... that… It can't be that simple, right?"
"It is, Mom. It really is that simple of a trick."
"Sigh… Okay, I'll test it out later. Next."
"Mana tails."
"I know a lot about manatees."
"Oh, you do?" I raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
"Yeah. "Do you want to see it?" she asked with a grin.
"Huh? What!?"
Before I could react, two glowing ropes wrapped around my waist and ankles, lifting me into the air like I was nothing more than a plush toy.
"They're cool, aren't they?"
"I fucking knew it! You had two tails!" I yelled, glaring at the two tails waving behind her.
"Hehehe, yes. I'm a nekomata after all. However, not many people are aware of this, so please keep it a secret.
"That's fine, but Mom, can you please let me go? It's starting to feel like BDSM things," I muttered awkwardly, squirming.
"BDSM? What is that?"
"Rebecca."
"Ah. That isn't right," Mom muttered, shivering.
"Yeah, don't do that to people, okay?"
"I never will." "However, I might consider it with Dean," she said, staring into space.
"Don't go down the rabbit hole, Mom. Please don't."
"Okay, let's move on," she said while slapping her cheeks.
"Okay, I'm not going to talk about my passive skills anymore."
"Oh, before we continue, remember that mana tails are classified as a passive skill. They give you a lot of mana."
"Yeah, I figured that."
"Well, anyway, your active skills look wonderful. You finally have your healing skill," Mom said, smiling brightly.
"Yeah, it took far too long to get it, though."
"Not really," she murmured.
"For me, yes."
"Sigh… whatever. Then you've got the upgraded version of Flash Step. The next one will be a proper teleport skill," she said, nodding with satisfaction.
"However, I can still use Flash Step."
"Yes, you can. That's normally how it goes."
"I see," I muttered, not really understanding, but too worn out to argue.