Chapter Fifteen: The Cursed Fox

“If we want to clear this round, we have to center everything around you. So, just take it,” said Not-a-Sword-Immortal with a carefree air, pressing the Substitute Tree Fruit into Embers' hand. Left with no alternative, Embers accepted and thus acquired his second passive skill: Minor Regeneration.

“Restores three percent of your health every five seconds. It might not look like much, but it's ridiculously useful. When we were forcing our way across the river just now, any health lost was almost instantly recovered,” Not-a-Sword-Immortal boasted about Minor Regeneration’s effect while purchasing another Substitute Tree Fruit. As he’d pointed out, what he lacked least now was credit points. He’d already bought everything he wanted; any extras couldn’t be carried, and saving them for the next trial would only be wasteful. Spending them all to increase combat power—that was the true path.

“Whew… I’ve finally managed to save this old life of mine. If you’d been a few seconds later, you probably wouldn’t have seen me again.” The Chief Tree Guardian let out a deep sigh of relief as he looked at the two, his tone earnest and grave. “There's something I must warn you about. The gardener’s cottage across the stream is quite close, but you’re likely to run into the Cursed Fox there—the one who sent those two after me, my archenemy. This forest grows stranger by the day. Though I desperately hope the gardener appears to save us, I don’t wish to see you lose your lives for it. My advice is to check the gardener’s cottage in the Plant Sector first, and only cross the stream if you find nothing.”

“We’ll take your advice into consideration,” Embers said solemnly to the Tree Guardian. Then, together with Not-a-Sword-Immortal, he headed straight for the Corrosive Creek that divided the two main sectors.

The Tree Guardian watched them go, his eyes filled with worry. His sigh was carried away by the breeze, rustling the branches and sending leaves drifting to the ground.

…

Although the Tree Guardian’s advice was for their own good, Embers and Not-a-Sword-Immortal decided to check the gardener’s cottage across the stream first. The reasons were simple: it was closer—just across from Wolf Valley, separated only by the creek—and more importantly, the Cursed Fox, the archenemy mentioned by the Tree Guardian, piqued their curiosity. With two side quests completed and a haul of items in hand, the pair felt confident enough to challenge the Cursed Fox.

Although they hadn’t received an official assassination quest from the Tree Guardian, they resolved at least to scout things out. If things went badly, they could always retreat and search the other gardener’s cottage instead; it wouldn’t waste much time.

By the time they waded through the creek and reached the far side of Wolf Valley, twenty-three minutes had passed in-game. In five more minutes, their Level Three Peashooter would be complete, but they pressed on without pause toward the gardener’s cottage.

The Animal Sector was much like the Plant Sector in environment, differing only in the abundance of small animals darting through the trees and undergrowth. These creatures were all harmless and non-aggressive, scattering at the approach of strangers. As the two ventured deeper, a small house nestled in a mountain hollow came into view.

From a distance, nothing seemed unusual about the cottage. Built entirely of wood, it looked for all the world like an ordinary cabin. Only in front of the door did anything stand out: an old fox, pacing restlessly. Like the Direwolf, it could walk upright, but its intelligence was greater still—it could speak the human tongue.

“Why aren’t they back yet? With my insect-repelling flute, there’s no reason for failure! Those two humans might not be strong, but they’re definitely smarter than that dumb wolf. With my flute to help them, taking down that old relic shouldn’t be a problem.”

The Cursed Fox, its fur yellowed and face wizened, leaned on a cane and shuffled anxiously, trying to reassure itself that the task entrusted to Thunderstrike and Lu Renjia wouldn’t fail. Yet its growing agitation betrayed its true feelings.

“This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity; I cannot afford any mistakes. If that one changes their mind and tries to find someone else to off the old relic, the chance may be lost forever.” The Cursed Fox muttered to itself, lost in thought and oblivious to the two figures quietly drawing near. “And if I can claim the old relic’s heartwood, I could develop even stronger insect-repelling magic.”

Still uneasy, the Cursed Fox began calculating both sides’ strength and the likely outcome: “Four enhanced larval Shadow Gnawers, paired with those humans’ strange weapons, should put the old relic at a serious disadvantage. But the old relic’s got skills—he’ll put up a fight before he goes down, and I’ll probably lose all four of my enhanced larvae. What a pity! I worked so hard to breed seven, and now most will be lost at once. If I weren’t ordered to stand guard, I would’ve handled it myself long ago!”

A flash of pain crossed its face, but was quickly replaced by fanatic excitement: “Sacrifice leads to gain! Once I have the heartwood, I can control even more Shadow Gnawers, maybe even summon stronger larvae. All my losses will be worthwhile—yes, worthwhile!”

Every word of the Cursed Fox’s soliloquy was overheard by Embers and Not-a-Sword-Immortal, hidden in the shadows. They figured they must have triggered a specific plot event to hear the whole backstory so clearly.

Why was the Cursed Fox so set on killing the Tree Guardian? He only had three enhanced larval Shadow Gnawers left. And who was the mysterious “one” he spoke of?

“I think taking down this old fox isn’t just possible, it’s necessary,” Embers said.

“I think your thinking is very logical,” Not-a-Sword-Immortal replied.

Embers nodded emphatically and activated his Eye of Appraisal on the Cursed Fox.

…

Name: Enhanced Larval Cursed Fox (Beast Entity Derivative / Hostile Creature)
Health: 50/50
Attack Level: Weak
Defense Level: Extremely Weak
Attack Speed: Average
Alert Range: Average
Skills: Insect-Repealing Magic, Curse: Slowness, Curse: Black Flame
Description: Curses, as one of the oldest branches of magic, have long been abandoned due to the rise of modern sorcery. Yet, some diehards still delve into their mysteries, seeking the true nature of power. The Cursed Fox is a rare non-human remnant among these practitioners. They are highly sensitive to chaotic energies and naturally attuned to the forces of darkness, making them exceptional curse-wielders.

…

Truth be told, the Cursed Fox’s stats were unremarkable—lower in health, attack, and defense than the Direwolf, and in some ways even weaker than the Skinny Monkey. The problem lay in its two curse skills; their exact effects were unknown. If the fight went badly and they were caught off-guard, things could get embarrassing.

“There’s risk—serious risk,” Not-a-Sword-Immortal assessed gravely. “And not just from the fox itself; those three enhanced Shadow Gnawers will be a real headache. Plus, it might be able to summon more ordinary ones.”

“Let’s use the Exploding Nut,” Embers suggested, already reaching for the still-warm new item. “With a two-meter blast radius and standard attack power, it should wipe out the ordinary Shadow Gnawers and heavily damage the enhanced ones. As for the two curses—Slowness just reduces attack and movement speed a bit, probably to help the bugs catch us. If we clear the bugs first, Slowness won’t matter much.”

“Well said,” Not-a-Sword-Immortal replied, newfound confidence in his voice. “That just leaves Black Flame. But with you, me, and two Peashooters, even a head-on clash favors us. Plus, we’ve got the Substitute Tree Fruit as insurance. Let’s go, no more hesitation. I’m starting to really believe that ‘time is money.’”

With their plan agreed upon, the two stepped out from the trees and confronted the Cursed Fox directly. Uncertain of its combat style, they chose the simplest way to start the fight.

“Who are you? What are you doing here? This cottage doesn’t welcome your kind—leave at once!” The Cursed Fox glared warily at them, but its nose soon caught a familiar scent. “Why do you carry the scent of my Shadow Gnawers? No… You killed my bugs? And the two humans I sent?”

Embers and Not-a-Sword-Immortal remained silent, advancing steadily toward the fox.

“Were you sent by that old relic?” The Cursed Fox’s tone dropped to a chilling murmur, pale eyes fixed on the two players as it slammed its cane to the ground.

“If you could kill my men, then I can kill you! Come forth, my servants—tear these fools to pieces!”

As its words faded, darkness welled up on the ground before it. Embers and Not-a-Sword-Immortal halted, bracing for battle. When the darkness cleared, they found themselves facing twenty ordinary Shadow Gnawers and three enhanced larvae at their head.

In some respects, the Cursed Fox was more dangerous than the Tree Guardian or the Direwolf. Players lacking attack power could easily be swarmed and killed by the bugs; against the others, clever footwork might offer a chance. And this wasn’t the fox at full strength—it had already lost four enhanced larvae and failed to claim the heartwood, preventing further power-up.

Imagine if Embers and Not-a-Sword-Immortal hadn’t intervened: the Cursed Fox, with the heartwood, would have grown much stronger, and even a fully upgraded Level Three Peashooter might not have tipped the odds in the players’ favor.

But all these conjectures assumed the players couldn’t clear out mobs quickly. The moment Embers hurled the Exploding Nut into the heart of the swarm, the tide of battle began to turn.