Chapter 42 – Things I Don’t Know

  City Hall – Council Wing, Early Morning

  The majestic spires of Novastra twinkled beautifully in the warm embrace of the late morning sun, casting playful shadows across the vibrant central plaza. Towering banners displaying the city's gleaming silver crest danced joyfully in the gentle ocean breeze as citizens bustled about, blissfully unaware of the significant challenge quietly brewing at the core of their government.

  Miss Hopps moved with unwavering determination through the grand arches of the central administration building. Each purposeful step resonated across the polished marble floor, her crimson-lined cloak trailing behind her like a proud banner of resolve.

  Walking alongside her was Ripper, his steadfast presence a reassuring weight as they both ventured into the intricate world of politics—two celebrated figures from the War Rabbit Guild ready to face whatever awaited them.

  As they approached the council checkpoint, a young sentry stood tall, saluting with respect.

  “Guildmaster Hopps. Vice Guildmaster Ripper. Lord Deogon awaits you in the upper chamber.”

  With a confident nod, Hopps ascended the wide staircase, her boots echoing with rhythmic determination. However, her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts.

  He survived the Arctic Frostbearer all on his own. He took down seasoned recruits effortlessly. He’s wielding relic technology and manipulating sigils. And he doesn't even realize who we are…

  As the grand oak-and-steel doors of the Upper Council Chamber came into view, adorned with glowing sigils responding to the high mana levels, she took a moment to compose herself, straightening her sash.

  “Are you ready for this?” Ripper inquired quietly.

  Hopps's jaw set with determination. “We have to be. If we don’t shape the narrative, someone else will seize the opportunity.”

  Taking a steadying breath, she pushed open the doors.

  It’s time to share with Lord Deogon how this extraordinary human could change everything for the better.

  War Rabbit Guild – Observation Quarters

  Under the warm glow of amber lanterns, the isolation room held a tranquil yet vibrant energy.

  Seven shifted slightly in his cot, caught in that delicate balance between sleep and wakefulness. A furrow formed on his brow, and his fingers flexed instinctively. A soft sigh escaped his lips, barely breaking the serenity.

  “...Saya…”

  He spoke her name, a whisper drawn from the depths of a haunting dream. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple, and his body tensed momentarily.

  Fluffy, settled comfortably on a padded stool by the wall, lowered her notebook and observed him with an attentive gaze. She chose silence, allowing the moment to unfold.

  This was their routine now.

  He would stir, mumble, twitch, and then retreat into his mind, like a diver exploring the depths of his own memories.

  “Frost… the cave… run…”

  Each murmured word captured her full attention.

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  And she never judged him.

  Not now.

  An hour had passed since she stopped jotting down casual notes. Her sketches had transformed into detailed diagrams—of his rifle, his gear, his scars. Those unspoken stories flowed quietly through his body.

  His breathing remained shallow, with his mana reserves pulsing weakly at his neck—gentle blue glimmers, like stars peeking through the clouds. It would be days before he could walk steadily again—and even longer to truly trust anyone.

  Gently, she leaned against the wall and adjusted the blanket over his chest. He trembled not from the cold, but from a profound exhaustion that seemed to reach his very soul.

  “You're stronger than you seem…” she murmured softly. “But your sleep speaks of more than just tiredness.”

  With a flick of her tail, Fluffy returned to her sketchpad, a spark of curiosity in her eyes.

  “What kind of storm are you keeping inside, human?”

  Fluffy’s Quarters, War Rabbit Guild

  Warm, Morning light filtered in through the frost-lined window, casting amber beams across the stone walls. Dust floated lazily in the still air. The soft hum of the warded barrier at the door was the only consistent sound—like a distant heartbeat reminding the room it was still under watch.

  Seven stirred, breath catching as pain surged through his core. His limbs protested, sore but finally responsive. Slowly, he flexed the fingers on his left hand, feeling the tingling sensation of returning circulation. At least something still worked.

  “Yeah… understood,” he muttered groggily to no one in particular.

  From across the room, Fluffy looked up from where she was perched sideways on a stool, idly twirling a carrot stick like a baton.

  “Hey! Look who decided to stop pretending he was dead.”

  “Glad you’re still with us, tough guy.”

  She bounced up lightly and wandered over, nudging his shoulder with the back of her hand.

  “Any longer out in that frost storm, and you’d have lost the other arm too. Then what? We’d rename you ‘No Arms’ and toss you in the library for light lifting.”

  Seven cracked one eye open. His voice was dry. “Hilarious. Did they promote you for sarcasm or just tolerance?”

  “Nah. I earned it from excessive charm and superior ear flicks,” Fluffy quipped, dropping the carrot nub into the waste bin like a dart. “But go ahead—thank me anyway. Just don’t pull a muscle trying to smile.”

  He didn’t smile. But a faint breath escaped his nose.

  Seven’s gaze slowly drifted toward his right side. The sleeve lay flat against his ribs—empty, sealed, and freshly wrapped. The scar tissue itched beneath the bandages, phantom pain blooming deep in his nerves.

  Fluffy noticed and quieted.

  “That bear didn’t do it... did it?” she asked gently.

  Seven’s expression dimmed. His jaw tightened.

  “No,” he said, low and distant. “Not the bear.”

  A pause.

  Then, like uncorking something too heavy to hold:

  “She tore it off. No blade. Just use her claws and sliced it off. Ripped it free like it was paper.”

  Fluffy’s ears lowered slightly. Her voice dropped. “She…?”

  “She ate it.” His voice trembled—half memory, half rage. “Bit by bit. She looked me in the eyes while doing it. Like it was normal. Like it was personal.”

  Fluffy took a small step back, eyes wide. “Damn. That’s... not just psycho. That’s monster-tier crazy.”

  Seven stared at the ceiling, lips barely moving. “She called herself Saya. Snow-white hair. Twin tails. Cat ears. Crimson-gold eyes. Smiled like she enjoyed it.”

  “...Twin tails?” Fluffy echoed, slowly.

  The doorway lit with movement.

  “Sounds like a Nekomata,” came a new voice.

  Both turned.

  Raven stood beyond the shimmering barrier, arms crossed, posture leaning against the doorframe with her usual quiet steel. Her eyes narrowed slightly.

  Seven blinked. “A what?”

  Raven stepped inside, letting the sigil seal behind her. “Nekomata. Rare kind of neko. Not common. Not tame. The ones with twin tails... those are ancient bloodlines. Dangerous. Highly magical. If this ‘Saya’ let you live... either you interested her, or she wanted something from you.”

  “She took my arm. Not sure what else she needed.”

  Raven shrugged. “If she’s what I think she is, you’re lucky she didn’t take your heart too. Nekomata don’t spare prey unless it suits them.”

  Seven winced, sitting up just slightly despite the soreness. “You’ve got some horrifying neighbors in this world.”

  “You’re not wrong,” Fluffy chimed in. “Be glad it wasn’t an Aku.”

  Seven paused. “A what?”

  The air in the room shifted.

  Raven raised an eyebrow.

  “You don’t know the Aku Clan as well?”

  Seven blinked at her, genuinely confused. “Should I?”

  Fluffy stared like he’d just told her the moon wasn’t real. “You’re serious?”

  Seven nodded. “Yes, I'm serious...”

  Raven’s voice lowered. “Snow-white hair… violet tips… crimson-gold eyes? That’s not standard. But it doesn’t mean she isn’t Aku.”

  “My first time meeting a cat woman,” Seven added. “More like… like a predator that didn’t know what it wanted. Sadistic. Smart. But not organized.”

  Fluffy scratched her cheek, puzzled. “I mean... that does sound kinda Aku, depending on the member.”

  Raven narrowed her eyes. “Some of them aren’t full Aku. There are... exceptions. Especially if they have dark mana. That changes them.”

  Seven raised an eyebrow. “Dark mana?”

  “Long story,” Fluffy said quickly. “Let’s keep it simple: Big scary cat people. They hate humans. They rule the wild zones outside Novastra. You're lucky you're still breathing.”

  Seven lay back against the pillow with a tired grunt. “And here I thought I just had a psycho ex. Turns out, I’ve got a deathmark from the local apex species.”

  “Oh, that mark?” Fluffy gestured to the faint sigil still glowing dimly on his neck. “Yeah, that thing’s been pulsing on and off since we found you. Whatever she did... it wasn’t just trauma. It stuck.”

  Seven’s eyes drifted closed briefly. “Great. Cursed by a twin-tailed cat demon. Add that to the resume.”

  Fluffy smirked, then leaned in closer.

  “Also, you missed breakfast.”

  “You people still eat breakfast?”

  “You don’t?”

  Seven opened one eye. “Depends on if someone’s trying to eat me first.”

  Fluffy giggled, then softened.

  “Rest while you can. Raven and Miss Hopps are keeping the council off your back… for now. But if you try running again—”

  “I won’t get far,” Seven muttered.

  “Exactly. And besides… if you pull that stunt again, I’m not tackling you nicely next time.”

  Seven turned his head slowly, a faint smirk curling the edge of his lips.

  “I didn’t know the first time counted as nice.”

  Fluffy’s cheeks tinted slightly, and she looked away, crossing her arms.

  “Yeah, well… next time I sit on your face, I’m not being gentle about it.”

  Seven blinked slowly. “...That was oddly specific.”

  “Good. Now you know not to test me.”