A Certain Middle-Aged Fox Beastkin’s Perspective

The day was getting harsher and harsher.

The scorching sun heated up his body like a never-ending torment, causing beads of sweat to trickle down from the tip of his head along to his furry ears, to the slits of the collar that wrapped around his neck. The sensation was just awful.

Yet, Rupert pushed the cart filled with shiny ores forward, gradually getting slower by the moment over the piling fatigue, when suddenly a sharp pain emerged on his back.

“Argh!” he groaned, almost falling over to the ground.

“You dare to slack off, huh? Quicken your steps!” A man with a whip — a human overseer — threatened, “Hmph! A bunch of half-lings! Be grateful that we keep you alive after freeing you from those slavers. Do you not want to eat, huh?” The man spat at him.

What freeing?! You people are the same! Rupert thought indignantly.

He silently grunted under the bad treatment but didn’t show it upfront and instead buried the hatred deep within his heart. He remembered what happened last time someone disobeyed the overseer; the miserable guy was whipped until he bled before being thrown into a pit full of rats and other vermin.

Besides, now was not the time. If he fought back, he would just further endanger the rest of his clansmen — something that he was reluctant to do anymore. No, he knew that he was just bullshitting himself.

Rupert was the patriarch of the Aureum clan, their leader. He had thought that his clan was safe from the clutches of the slavers by constantly moving from place to place, but he couldn’t be more wrong. In the futile resistance, he even got his wife and son killed.

Now, the rest of the clansmen were forced to do labor in a mine infested with monsters. Almost every day, at least one of his clan members died from exhaustion, was attacked by monsters, or was killed by these people. To put it bluntly, life was grim for them.

He kept pushing the cart, observing the miserable fate of his clan. They were all malnourished, being fed the barest minimum of the most disgusting food while being forced to do the most tasking labor. Even his formerly huge muscles were no more, and only dry skin and bones remained.

“You! Stop dilly-dallying!”

“Gaargh…! Cough!”

One of his people, the sole remaining elderly man in his clan, was whipped on his back, causing his fragile legs to give way to pressure. The perpetrator was the overseer that had whipped him too.

He was about to swing his whip again, but then, a young boy blocked the way and shouted amid his trembling body, “D-Don’t hit my grandfather again!”

“Little bastard! Do you want to die?!” The man gave the boy a good lashing.

“Uargh! It hurts!”

Not satisfied, he kept whipping him again and again. Whip marks colored the skin of the boy of the golden fox tribe, looking like they wouldn’t disappear even if treated.

“Stop! Sir, p-please rein your anger. I will work harder, I will! So please…” the elderly man begged, prostrating with his head sticking into the ground.

“Hmph! I’m not asking!” The overseer flogged him multiple times before stopping, not out of pity but because of exhaustion.

As a beastkin, it was no wonder that they received persecution and discrimination from humans. And all they could do was to bear with it and preserve until the time where they could be free again… But… would such a time ever come?

Rupert himself could only clench his hands, grit his teeth, and carry on. He couldn’t do anything… No, the real reason was that he didn’t dare to do anything.

At least “that girl” had escaped. Seeing that the rest of the clansmen couldn’t escape, he prioritized the daughter of his late best friends to escape in the midst of chaos. He just hoped that she found happiness wherever she was.

“What’s going on here?”

A hoarse voice appeared, undisturbed by the noise of the clanking of pickaxes around.

“Hm…? S-Sir Jackie! Coming here for another inspection?” The man that whipped him and his clansmen had done a complete one-eighty in the sight of a tall, skinny human male wearing coarse bluish leather armor and a sword with a red gem embedded in the blade.

While unloading the ores on his cart to a pile of ores nearby, Rupert secretly eyed the newcomer coldly. He was one of the leaders of these people; he knew this long ago since he was no fool. However, each time he came, nothing great ever came, and instead, the reverse would be the case.

“Mm. The magiclum stone mine is very important to the Order. These people are just lowly slaves — if these people don’t want to work, then…” Jackie gestured with his thumb, making a slitting motion. “Of course, the minimum quota still has to be met.”

“S-Sir… Yes, sir!” The overseer turned to the grandfather and grandson duo and yelled, “Stop idling!” and kicked them until they scrambled up and continued with the work.

Rupert knew they still had use for their organization, so they wouldn’t easily kill without using them to the last drop of blood.

Jackie seemed to have lost interest and looked around the place, finally locking his malicious gaze upon a dirty fox girl nearby. He came toward the girl with short steps, quickly grabbed the collar of the oblivious girl, and lifted her up to his face.

“You can’t hide your face with dirt, ya know. I can see that you’re quite a beauty. Hm. I don’t care if you’re a beastkin or not since this’ll be quite a sensation… Hehe! Ehehehe!”

“Aahhh! Nooo! G-Go away…!” The girl thrashed and squirmed with all her might, but she was so malnourished and weak to do any significant result.

Rupert's vision darkened, and his muscles quivered as his body stiffened, almost unable to hold the raging hatred in his heart. Anyone wouldn’t know better than him whom Jackie was trying to assault — she was his niece and barely fourteen this year.

“Sir Jackie, you can have her. She isn’t much of a worker, so it won’t affect our output,” The overseer said, trying to please him.

“Oh, that’s so? That’s good then.” Jackie laughed and dragged the girl with him.

“No! No, no! Save me! Mama! Pa—!”

A loud slapping sound echoed outside the mine, loud enough to make the workers stop and look here.

“Shut up!!”

Everyone was struck silent, even the rest of his clansmen could only watch silently, secretly grinding their teeth. Anyone that made any suspicious movements was whipped by those people. Rupert knew that this man would kill them without hesitation, and even if they joined hands, they wouldn’t win; no one wanted to lose their lives fruitlessly at this point.

But no matter what, he couldn’t just stay still. Not this time! Thus, he looked around the pile of ores before him and found a single worn-out pickaxe. He grabbed it and put it closely behind his back. He didn’t want to be a coward no more.

“Hey, you! What are you looking at?! You want to rebel?!” The overseer strode closer, drawing the sword on his waist after assessing that Rupert would indeed do that.

Rupert grasped the pickaxe behind his back tightly, ready to pounce at the bastard any second. Suddenly, however—

Bang! Red liquid gushed out like a blooming rose.

As though being punched by an invisible force, the overseer’s head burst, and his body dropped to the ground like a soulless husk.

“W-What…? Who’s there? Who’s shooting?!” Jackie was trembling but quickly regained composure and yelled, “What are you guys waiting for! Search and kill ‘em!”

But almost immediately, strange metallic beings emerged from the bushes, aimed their hands at these people, and released small projectiles one after another. Although not as powerful as the first one, each one was enough to kill one person and smear the ground red.

Was this the god’s answer to their plight?

No matter what it might be, he would swing his pickaxe to their oppressors, roaring, “My brethren, all members of the Aureum clan — rise!”

***

Vincent’s Perspective

We departed from the dungeon and marched through the thick forest with an army of golems. And by ‘we,’ I mean Fuku and I since Lorelei was left behind to guard the dungeon as well as to prepare for our next plan. Both of them would be extremely crucial in this operation.

The journey of crossing the forest would take us at least half a day by walking, so considering that, in order to cut the time required, I had made five transport iron golems with the shape resembling that of a six-legged trunk-less elephant — one had a small house where we were in while the rest only had some empty space to house Fuku’s clansmen and to store other objects.

Funnily enough, the rhythm of the transport golem lulled Fuku to sleep. Her sleeping posture was akin to how a fox slept, snuggling on her arms with her tail partially covering her.

Hmm… Maybe there will be a day when I can make a golem in the shape of a car. But even making this thing already took my all.

All this time, I could only make as many as fifty iron golems (transport golems not included). Apart from the forty we brought, the rest of them were left to watch over the dungeon in case an emergency arose.

Unlike the self-improvised clay golems with higher stats than those on the menu, the self-improvised iron golems were slightly weaker than conventional ones. Well, they had a hollow interior, after all, but that pressed the whole cost down to less than half their original — only around 300 CP each. A sacrifice worth making.

Species: Iron golem (self-improvised)

Sex: Nonexistent

Height: 205 cm

Stats:

STR: C (63) AGI: D (51) VIT: C- (56) MAG: F- (0) SPR: F (10)

Accumulation Points: 48 [D-]

I inspected the orderly marching golems that consisted of nothing but iron golems through the small windows around me, feeling the corners of my mouth automatically rising. I called them windows despite being shaped more like a small opening.

Thing was, iron golems couldn’t be made the same way as clay golems: I couldn’t make an iron golem assembly line, not now at least. How unfortunate. After all, the clay golem assembly line only worked by adding clay to the premade skeletal structure, but the iron golems were created differently.

Each step they took on the ground, the land quaked slightly, the vegetation blocking the way was crushed, and you could even see the inhabitants of the forest trembling. I wasn’t worried that anyone would notice us; I’d made sure that no human presence existed within a certain distance from us through the phantoms so that we wouldn’t encounter some unknown variables. At any rate, I didn’t want such a thing to happen for now.

“If there’s no such limitation… I can have my dream realized,” I muttered, trying not to disturb the sleeping Fuku. Looking at her made me sleepy as well…

Two hours later, I received news that the abandoned mine where Fuku’s clansmen were placed was near, so I nudged her to wake up.

“Mm… No, Fuku can’t eat anymore…” She turned to the side with saliva flowing out of her mouth.

This girl… She can be such a little sweetheart, but Lorelei’s influence might not be good for her. But I was glad that she was no longer sad about the loss of her family.

I shook my head and flicked Fuku’s forehead, waking her from her sleep talk.

“Ow… Huh?” Fuku rubbed her eyes and stood up, only for her head to bump into the roof. “Owie! …A-Are we there yet, Master?”

“Indeed, so be prepared.” I raised my phone to the mine location and used the camera to zoom in.

Not so far away, there were indeed a dozen or so fox beastkin similar to Fuku. If I wasn’t mistaken, the mines in the Obsivel Mountain Range had been abandoned for many years, leaving them infested with monsters. This mine, in particular, located at the foot of the mountain, was no exception. It seemed that the Axiom Order didn't just let them live freely and forced them to work in the mines. Typical.

I grabbed a new white mask with two symmetrical red vertical patterns and a small round green crystal on its forehead from my backpack and put it on. The mask fit perfectly and comfortably on my face as if it was designed solely for me. I couldn’t use the old mask, but I didn’t want my face to be known either. Therefore, I bought another type of magic mask: the Grand Figure Mask.

Grand Figure Mask

An extraordinary magic mask that will make a good impression on anyone (whether foe or friend) who sees the wearer.

I thought it would be better to buy this mask even though the price is on the higher end of the spectrum, being at 5,000 CP. Nevertheless, getting a good impression would work best for my agenda rather than the reverse.

It was hard to gather CP, but it was so easy to lose them. I sighed in despondence over this recurring problem that seemed to have no end.

“Huh, this…”

To think that I would encounter something absurd right off the bat…