Draco POV
Why did this have to happen to me? That's the only thing running through my head as I stare at the smoke rising above the forest, the sound of screams cutting through the trees while I sprint toward it.
If my guess is right, that's where the Spirit Fox clan lived. Or maybe used to live. I doubt anyone's still breathing in there. Which means no more specimens.
I remember in the series, other than Yukime, no one survived. The rest were slaughtered or dragged off. As for Yukime herself? Who knows. With no sign of Cid around, odds are she followed the same fate as the rest of her clan. Dead or about to be.
And that's when the hidden protagonist inside me, the one who somehow landed in this ridiculous isekai harem fantasy, decided to whisper in my ear: "Save her. She'll be yours."
But this time I didn't just jump in headfirst. I actually thought about it. Is she really worth it?
The answer came fast. Yes.
And no, it wasn't just about the fluffy tail, the ears, or the big pillows I could bury my head in like some brain-dead simp. It was about her actual skills.
Yukime grew strong, Shadow Garden-level strong. More than that, she had brains. Leadership. The kind of person who could run the Lawless City, manage the Snow Fox Corporation, and still keep her head straight. She wasn't just a pretty face; she had potential. The kind worth investing in.
Once I made up my mind, I pushed harder, racing to reach her before death did.
And luck didn't completely abandon me. The forest was a nightmare, charred corpses and hacked-up bodies drying in the dirt, but I focused only on the girl with the three white fox tails.
She was alive. Barely. Pinned under someone's boot.
And if I wasn't mistaken, that someone was her fiancé. A wolf beastman.
Oh, and he looked about ready to kill her.
Guess it's time for me to make an entrance.
I darted forward, blade in hand, slashing at his exposed back. Predictable. His ears twitched a fraction, and he spun, sword snapping up just in time. Steel rang out, the impact shuddering through my arm.
So yeah, beastmen senses really were sharper.
His gaze flicked around, quick and sharp, scanning the surroundings for hidden allies. Smart. He wasn't just muscle, he was cautious too.
"Who are you?" he demanded, voice low, eyes narrowing like he was already weighing whether I was worth killing on the spot.
I let the silence drag for a heartbeat before tilting my head. "I am… Shadow."
Because let's be real, if I picked any other name, it'd feel like betrayal.
"Shadow," he repeated, tasting the word as if searching his memory. But he didn't wait. His blade whistled through the air, fast and ruthless.
I jerked my head back, the edge grazing close enough that I felt the wind bite my skin. My sword snapped up in reflex, steel shrieked as it caught his strike inches from my face. Sparks spat between us.
I shoved his strike wide and pivoted, my blade snapping up toward his skull in the same breath. He caught it clean, smooth, like he'd been waiting for it.
Clang!
That single clash told me more than a dozen exchanges could have. His raw strength was unmistakable. The weight behind his blade pressed into mine, almost matching me blow for blow. No, if I was being honest, it carried just a shade more force. I had the Miyamoto template backing me, sure, but this wasn't the hulking, muscle-bound Miyamoto of legend. This was the younger version, leaner, not yet fully carved by time. My body wasn't at its peak yet either, though given enough months I'd grow into it.
It made sense. How else could I be operating anywhere near Miyamoto's level so fast? Templates weren't just snapshots. They could come from different points in a person's life. Richard was proof enough of that; his skill spoke of years.
If the gacha could hand me a younger Miyamoto, why not an older or alternate version of someone else?
Back to the fight. His swordsmanship? Honestly, sloppy. Rough around the edges, unpolished. With the memories of three master swordsmen burned into me, every flaw in his stance screamed counter now. More than once, I almost caught myself slipping into teaching mode, tempted to adjust his footwork mid-swing like some sparring partner. But no, that kind of charity in battle was suicide.
And then there was mana. He hadn't drawn on it yet, but I could feel it lurking under his skin, a reservoir that probably dwarfed mine several times over. That itch in my skull hardened into a single decision: the moment a clean disengage opened up, I'd take it. Pride had no place here. Survival came first. Always.
Especially when there wasn't any real enmity between us. I wasn't here for him, and he wasn't here for me. His target was Yukime; mine was getting her out alive. Circumstances. Everyone had theirs.
"You don't get it, do you?" he roared, his voice raw with rage. "I just lost my clan, everything! That woman turned her back on me, and now you show up, right when I'm about to cut her down?" His blade shook as his fury poured into every swing. "Fine. I'll take it out on you instead, human child!"
His strikes grew heavier, wilder, every blow carrying the raw weight of grief and fury. My arms screamed under the pressure; if I slipped for even a second, he'd cut me down without hesitation.
Human child. He had sensed it.
"Tch… looks like I've got to take this seriously."
I drew in my mana, letting it surge through my body, sharpening my movements, lending weight to every swing. My blade snapped forward faster, each step quicker, sharper. Enough holding back.
"Let's end this."
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Anime for Mashup suggestions