Chapter 15

“No, after I showed her how to transplant, she ended up cutting all the roots. I even told her the names of the flowers, but she can’t seem to remember them properly. I warned her to be cautious around the Vanaichi, but she casually touches the poison ivy. She can’t even water the plants correctly, and now you want me to help with the gardening?” Serin grumbled.

Kennard raised an eyebrow. “Are you referring to Elena?”

“Who else could it be but that woman?” As expected, Serin’s grievances centered around Elena. He fell silent when he noticed the intense look in Kennard’s eyes.

“Why do you dislike Elena so much?” Kennard inquired.

“Why are you so fond of her?” Serin retorted.

“Are you going to keep picking at this?”

Serin abruptly turned his head and resumed sharpening his sword. 

“Could you please tell me how to handle Elena?” 

Kennard sighed upon hearing the subsequent question, his gaze shifting to survey the forest in the darkness. Despite his acute awareness of the forest’s surroundings, Serin’s voice kept interrupting his thoughts.

Kennard grumbled, “What do you want to do?”

“Am I allowed to do as I please?” Serin retorted.

Kennard’s voice grew even deeper as he suppressed his anger, saying, “Serin Elus! Do you want to be the prey today?”

Serin muttered, “You shouldn’t hunt members of your own species.”

Kennard responded, “Because I might not be able to?”

“Don’t talk nonsense. But seriously, give me an answer. Should Elena be treated like a noblewoman, a commoner, or a servant? It’s not just me; Lassino and other servants are also puzzled about how to treat Elena.”

Kennard struggled to answer Serin’s question as he gazed down at the large rock where Elena had been found. 

Two months ago, on the day when he had gone hunting alone, he had followed the massive pheromone signature of the White Fox Tribe. More precisely, he had followed a subtle, unadulterated pheromone amidst the White Fox Tribe’s signature.

When the overwhelming pheromones had filled his nostrils to the point of dizziness, Elena had rolled in front of him. As he recalled the moment when their eyes had first met, his breath trembled uncontrollably.

Observing her appearance, she appeared like an ordinary person, perhaps a commoner or a peasant. However, her mannerisms and speech hinted at a nobility that puzzled those around her. Serin, deep in thought, elaborated, “That’s what’s perplexing. It’s not the usual scent of the local tribe, but a completely unique one we’ve never come across.”

Kennard’s body briefly tensed, and his shoulders stiffened. Turning to Serin, he inquired, “You sensed Elena’s scent as well?”

Serin replied with a hint of sarcasm, “Well, isn’t it evident? My sense of smell rivals yours, Your Highness.”

Kennard gave Serin an intense look, briefly entertaining the idea of twisting his neck, but quickly dismissing the thought. He asked, “Is that all?” He knew the question was almost pointless. Elena’s scent could be detected by anyone with a keen sense of smell, such as himself and Serin. Yet, it didn’t sit well with him, and the possibility of something more gnawed at him, igniting a spark in his chest, even though he knew it couldn’t be true.

Serin, with a hint of defiance, retorted, “What else could there be?”

Kennard frowned but decided to ignore Serin.

“Planning to catch something other than deer today?” Serin asked casually.

Kennard’s response was curt, his teeth clenched, and a metallic taste of anger in his mouth. The tension in the air threatened to boil over. “Why do you ask?”

“Remember what I said last time?” Serin’s voice carried a hint of frustration. “If you’re not going to dry the Terra Demorte deer meat, then why bother hunting it? It’s not an easy kill, you know. There are plenty of other game options out there. Why fixate on deer?”

Kennard retorted, “I did catch a grizzly bear yesterday.”

Serin, not easily swayed, responded, “Whether it’s a bear or a deer, we end up with extra meat and leather. Perhaps it’s time we consider a side business with them.”

Kennard brushed off the suggestion, stating firmly, “I won’t dry it, so don’t worry about it. If you want to head to Montefiano or your territory, feel free to go. I’ll send Cura with you if you decide.”

“Your Highness!”

Kennard sighed, frustration etched on his face. “There’s no need for stubbornness. You two are equally stubborn. Why did you bother coming all the way here to pester me?” 

Kennard continued to gaze into the darkness, exhaling deeply. He tried to muster a smile for Serin’s determination but ended up turning his head away.

He inhaled deeply, letting the crisp, icy mountain air mingle with the earthy scent of wildlife, filling his lungs. The closest aromas were of rabbits and owls, while a bit further off, the faint traces of bears and deer wafted in the breeze. The bear’s presence might be linked to the one they’d caught yesterday, or it could just be one of the creatures living in the vicinity.

In the distance, a realization struck. “They’ve come again. Foxes,” Kennard muttered. His calm voice prompted Serin to rise swiftly, brushing dirt off his rear. 

Serin contemplated, “Could it be the White Fox Tribe?”

He leaped onto a nearby rock, taking a deep breath akin to Kennard. “I sense a faint trace of them, but it’s within the forest. They wouldn’t dare venture into Your Highness’s territory unless they’ve gone mad,” Serin remarked.

“Perhaps they’re being driven all the way up to the northern edge,” Kennard grumbled, stroking his chin. Every night during his hunting expeditions, the White Fox Tribe’s pheromones made him uneasy. Instead of anger, he found it puzzling when they secretly intruded and inadvertently marked their territory all over the forest.

“Care to go fox hunting today?” he proposed.

“Both of us?” Serin inquired.

Kennard chuckled and replied, “Why not? Don’t you trust your skills? I’ll take the lead, and you can head to the castle and gather some of your subjects to join.”

Serin gave Kennard a confident look, and Kennard burst into laughter. He understood Serin’s independent nature better than anyone else. Serin might grumble about it initially, but when nudged like this, he would charge ahead with unwavering determination.

“It has been a while,” Serin mused. “I might fashion a cape with fox fur trim.”

Kennard quipped, “Thanks to those, you’ve got a longer life.”

Serin responded with a wry smile, stepping back from Kennard. His dark eyes, marked with concentric rings, widened, and the veins on his face pulsed as his skeletal structure shifted. His bipedal form transformed into that of a Greywolf with silver-gray fur, covering his entire body.

“Let’s go,” Kennard suggested.

Serin released a frosty breath and gracefully jumped down from the rock. As Kennard watched this transformation, an eyebrow arched in curiosity.

“You’re not eager to meet your end, are you?” Kennard inhaled deeply, then exhaled, his pumpkin-colored irises widening. Slowly, his face and body’s structure contorted, until he transformed into a sleek Blackwolf, his coat glistening with obsidian sheen.

Balanced on the rock with all four paws, Kennard gazed into the distance. His dark fur gleamed brilliantly in the cold and gusty wind.

It appeared that the same creatures that had pursued Elena that day were still crossing the border. The reasons behind the relentless pursuit by the White Fox Tribe remained shrouded in mystery, and the extent of harm inflicted upon Elena puzzled Kennard.

The intrigue of it all continued to gnaw at him.

On that very day, Kennard scoured the forest for any sign of those elusive creatures, yearning to capture even one to unveil their motives. Yet, his efforts had been in vain, netting only a deer.

But today was different; their pheromones had spread across the woods, almost taunting Kennard, challenging him to come and claim them. He descended into the shadows, his inky black fur gleaming like moonlit obsidian.

Following the scent trail of the White Fox Tribe, Kennard and Serin reached the border, finding themselves surrounded by a dense thicket of coniferous trees. These ancient giants reached skyward, their branches intertwined like the secrets of centuries past.

Despite the persistent scent of the White Fox Tribe, there was no sign of their presence. “Maybe they’ve fled,” Kennard mused.

Serin nodded in agreement. “That’s possible.”

Both the Fox Tribe and the Wolf Tribe possessed keen senses of smell. When beings with such potent pheromones were in the vicinity, their presence could not easily escape detection.

Of all the pure-blooded individuals, Kennard possessed the most potent pheromones, making it a challenge for him to mask his scent.

Currently, there was another scent in the air, one even more powerful than the pheromones of the White Fox Tribe. It was so familiar that it seemed to be etched into his very being, a scent he recognized well.

Kennard shifted back into his human form and began to move slowly in the direction of this intriguing aroma. Serin, having already shifted into human form ahead of Kennard, quickened his pace.

“Your Grace, please take a look at this,” Serin called out.

Kennard came to a halt, his attention drawn to whatever had captured Serin’s interest.