A fair amount of time had passed. The wolves kept cycling between wariness, relaxation, and renewed fear, each shift as swift as the last.

“It is because we have all become cowards,” Arka, the chief’s friend, said apologetically.

“I am sorry, my friend. Even ten years ago, the wolves were not such cowards, but as time passes and our bodies weaken, our minds wear down with them. It is a sad thing.”

“How could you remain as you were in an environment like this? Living things change even when everything else stays the same, and the world as it is now is far too harsh on all who live in it. You must have suffered a great deal.”

“I am glad you understand.”

As Arka sighed, the chief, Gargal, approached.

“Don’t tell our guest nothing but depressing things.”

“If you won’t listen to me chatter, what choice do I have but to corner our guest?”

“We wolf folk have our dignity...”

“Gargal, dignity will not fill our empty bellies.”

“Nnngh...”

Gargal’s groan sounded halfway between a whine and a growl. The wolf folk supposedly placed little value on age and did not factor it into their relationships. Even so, it seemed a seven-year-old could hardly overcome thirty-five years of experience.

Arjio felt his heart warm.

“The two of you really do get along wonderfully.”

“Every so often, you use that... that way of speaking.”

“Does it not suit me?”

“It suits you so well it makes my fur stand on end.”

Was that the human equivalent of “It gives me goosebumps”? Jio laughed.

“Your fur looks perfectly normal to me.”

“It’s a figure of speech.”

With another groan, the wolf chief quietly lay down beside Jio, who was tiny compared to him. He seemed to be considerate of the sleeping pups. The way he moved without a sound despite his enormous bulk made it clear why he had become chief at seven.

“You are always so quiet.”

“You’re far too free with your compliments.”

“That is because no other wolf is as quiet or as fast as you.”

“Why else would I be chief?”

“I knew that, but I thought I would say it anyway.”

“There you go saying strange things again...”

Muttering, Gargal gently closed his eyes. Though they had not known each other long, Jio stroked his forehead and scratched his chin with practiced ease. It must have felt quite good, for Gargal’s face went slack with contentment.

“Mmm, good. Very good... Under my ears too, please. Oh, that’s the spot.”

“What a demanding customer.”

Arjio teased him for no particular reason, then kept scratching. Watching Gargal with amusement in her eyes, Arka lay down beside Jio as well. She was not asking for a scratch herself; she simply seemed to find the pair rather entertaining.

“I heard humans were good at scratching fur. It seems that was true.”

“Humans have the ideal form for giving any beast a satisfying scratch.”

“When you say things like that...” Arka said, almost in a whisper. “You don’t seem human.”

“Then what do I seem to be?”

“Something imitating a human.”

“That is possible.”

“You keep saying things like that.”

“I always embrace every kind of diversity.”

To put it kindly, he was open-minded. To put it unkindly, he had no convictions. Ever since evolving into a portrait, any claim to being an “ordinary human” had long since sailed out of reach, but his mind was open enough that at least Jio himself could think otherwise.

“Anything is fine.”

They could see him however they wished.

“Do we not all live trapped in worlds of our own?”

“Your fondness for difficult, vague remarks isn’t particularly human either.”

“Then I suppose I am not human.”

He did not mind failing to fit neatly into a single category.

“...”

“I respect you all.”

Jio had no intention of defining himself as any one thing. He never had, and he intended to keep it that way. Why should someone as versatile as he was, someone who could be anything, live confined to a single image? That would not be much fun.

* * *

A fox came calling after hearing the rumors.

“Might you consider showing us mercy as well?”

“Well, this is a surprising reaction.” Jio marveled. “Do the foxes here know how to transform into humans too?”

“Ah, modest as our abilities are, that is the magic we do best. Our ancestors apparently made excellent use of it in their wars with humans. I suppose it became hereditary. Haha!”

“But why come to me in human form, specifically?”

“To win your favor, of course! Living creatures open their hearts most readily to others of the same form. There are occasional exceptions, but you could call it an age-old, universal trait of living things.”

“Aha. So that is why.”

Unlike the sly figure the word “swindler” had brought to mind, this visitor claiming to be chief of the fox folk was remarkably clear and forthright. Arjio regarded the chief in silence.

'... And yet they still manage to feel this much like a swindler. Impressive, in a way.'

Was it the narrow, slanted features? Or that thin smile? Appearance must have played a part, but the overall air was slightly sly and exceedingly suspicious. That was what made it interesting, though.

“So you came to me imitating a human?”

“It is terribly rude to bring this up at our first meeting, but we fox folk have empty bellies too!”

The fox chief’s face, transformed into that of a human woman, soon clouded over.

“And the wolf folk aren’t the only ones with young who have yet to reach adulthood. We have them too. Adults who have developed resistance won’t die no matter what they eat, but our cubs’ immunity is still very weak. They acquire a minimal resistance to poison in their mothers’ wombs... but it’s only enough to keep them from dying as soon as they’re born.”

“Oh dear. What a sad tale.”

“Yes. To be honest, I am telling you this to gain your sympathy. But none of it is a lie. Above all, the fox folk aren’t as hardy as the wolf folk. Nor can we research ways to neutralize poison as the crows do.”

The fox chief smiled nervously.

“All we can do is force our cubs to build resistance by feeding them the right poisons at the right time. But far too many die before that ‘right time’ even arrives. At this rate, the fox folk too... may be headed for extinction... That is why I have come.”

“Hmm. Fox cubs are adorable indeed. I would like to see your sweet little ones. Would you invite me? I imagine the foxes would feel far less anxious if I visited at their chief’s invitation.”

“Ah, of course! If you permit it, I will do everything I can to make you welcome!”

The chief was remarkably skilled at rubbing those palms together ingratiatingly.

“...”

Though they were trembling.

“Tell me, Gargal.”

“... I’m not sure it’s my place to get involved.”

“I only want another opinion.”

“All right. I’m listening.”

“Do you think it would be all right for me to make more friends here?”

“... That...”

Gargal, chief of the wolf folk, looked at the vivid red human smiling no differently than usual, and at the fox chief, who went pale and trembled silently whenever that human’s gaze turned away. He had never seen his rival react that way before.

'But I understand.'

Gargal nudged the red human’s back with his nose.

“... Help them.”

“Oh, are you sure that is all right?”

“We had no future anyway. The only paths left to us were finding a way to die with as little pain as possible... and seeking the warmest, coziest grave we could.”

Seven was certainly not old, but Gargal had become leader because he was the strongest wolf and had the best judgment. He often acted awkwardly, but he was no coward.

And yet, he often tucked his tail like a coward before “Jio.” He was by no means ignorant of what that meant, but they had no choice either. The future was dark, and the outstretched hand was kind, however red it might be.

“We want a future.”

A wolf could do anything for his family.

“We need a future to have choices. To have even the smallest chance. We already know we can do nothing if all we do is die like cowards.”

“And so...” Arjio smiled. “You would take an evil god’s hand?”

He had not thought they would remain unaware.

'They may have been at first, but more and more things must have seemed strange.'

To begin with, it made no sense for a human, a creature from history believed to be extinct, to appear out of nowhere all alone, draped in silk, gold, silver, and jewels.

Moreover, he had asked to hear the world’s history from their very first meeting, and the only parts that interested him concerned the “evil god.” Even if accounts of his appearance had been lost as the stories passed down, there was more than enough to frighten them.

'People have been afraid of me as a portrait too, just as young Cha A-ra was before.'

Had they said they could sense an entirely different order of being?

'And I piled up mountains of poison-free meat, something that could no longer exist in this dimension.'

At the very least, he could travel between dimensions. He was most likely a being from their history, a powerful creature whose mere presence made even the hardy wolf folk tuck their tails. An evil Divinity reeking of blood.

“...”

“...”

At most, he was the “evil god” of history. At the least, he was something comparable.

“You seem quite afraid of me.”

“... That’s true.”

The wolf could see Rami, chief of the fox folk, struggling to conceal that fear. Weak as the fox chief was, that mind worked more cunningly than any other race’s, yet Rami had come all this way in person despite being chief.

'Are things that desperate?'

Disputes among the beasts had all but vanished over the past ten years. They could not afford to fight one another and lose the capacity to protect and raise their newborn young. The fox folk in particular had already been frantic with fear that extinction might come at any moment.

And then this “human” had appeared.

“I’m still afraid. But...”

“But?”

At that benevolent, coaxing voice, he finally made his decision as chief.

“You treated us as friends.”

Wolves did not abandon family or betray friends.

“So could you help us just a little more?”

“Hmm...”

“There is no meaning in the wolf folk surviving alone. Those obnoxious fox folk and those aloof crow folk must survive with us for all the years we endured to mean anything.”

“You do have a way with sweet words.”

“Th-then don’t, if you don’t want to!”

“Ahaha!”

Jio vigorously rubbed the wolf’s face. Gargal was so admirable and adorable that he could not help himself.

“You really are a coward!”

What was so frightening about this frail human to make him act this way?

“Chief of the fox folk, what should I call you?”

“R-Rami will do! It isn’t an alias. It’s my real name. If you give us a chance, I can swear that we will all do everything we can to please you!”

“Rest assured, I do not extract oaths so readily.”

Jio was quite a gentlemanly evil god.

'It pleases me a little to know my infamy has spread this far.'

He never denied his identity as an evil god. He loved it, in fact. The river of blood made from his own blood and that of his enemies was something he ought to welcome as an evil Divinity, and instinctively, he could do nothing else.

Unaware of the somewhat troublesome future this would bring, Jio smiled contentedly.

“I thought I might have faded into the forgotten corners of history. It feels good to know you all remember me.”

“Your tastes are a little strange...”

“Gargal, if you have something to say, speak up.”

“I-I didn’t say anything.”

“If my friend says so, it must be true.”

Arjio turned back to Rami, the fox chief.

“Lead the way.”

“Ah...”

“I will give you the help you want.”

There was only one thing Jio wanted in return.

“And let us be friends.”

Let us enjoy life.

* * *

A crow flew over to Gargal, who had been left alone, with a flutter of wings.

“Is that your decision?”

“Elder Valf.”

It was Valf, chief of the crow folk.

“He smelled very strongly of blood. He grants mercy for his own amusement, and has not a shred of feeling to spare his enemies. If he truly is the ‘Erased Wrath’... his feelings toward us will hardly be entirely kind.”

“...”

“The same holds even if he is not the ‘Erased Wrath.’ That is no human. It is a vast force of nature, wrath and pain imitating humanity. And yet he lies so easily. That means he is an evil rebel, not one who obeys the natural order. Are you still all right with this?”

“I chose a future.”

“I see...”

Valf was saddened.

“Do you believe he can distinguish friends from slaves?”

At the words of the elder who had helped him in ways great and small since childhood, Gargal gave a long, slow blink. Of course he too was frightened of that resplendent, blood-reeking thing imitating a human.

'I would have felt more at ease if he were a ghost.'

But hot blood unmistakably flowed within him. Gargal could feel his beating heart, and he even had a tongue that could taste and a stomach that could be filled. Faced with those privileges unique to the living, Gargal grew weak.

In the end, Gargal accepted the existence of that vivid red something.

“He bestowed blessings on our young.”

“They may be evil blessings.”

“More than anything, he smelled of sunshine.”

“... Sunshine?”

“It was a nutty, sweet scent.”

Gargal gently closed his eyes.

“Warm, soft, and fluffy...”

He could still smell it vividly.

“... A scent so reassuring I wanted to swallow it whole.”

“You wolves are foolishly instinctive.”

The crow let out a deep sigh.

“I understand your intentions.”

“Are you leaving?”

“I must observe him further, if we are to receive a future of our own.”

“Take care on your way.”

“Tread carefully yourself.”

FLAP!

The crow took flight.

“...”

Gargal gazed in the direction of the fox folk.

“... Anything would be better than this.”

Surely pain and wrath were better than a world of nothing but death.

(To be continued)