If this were Earth…
There'd be no comparison. On Earth, the food chain was simple. Predators and prey. Instinct and survival.
Tigers were kings—top of the food chain. The ones stories called the "mountain kings."
Even myths paired them with dragons.
Tiger and dragon. Wind and cloud.
And foxes?
Tricksters. Directly compared to tigers... because they 'borrowed their strength.'
But not here.
In front of Kei stood a five-meter long tiger—big, strong, and glowing with chakra. The character for "king" (王) was marked on its brow like a crown.
And it was bleeding.
All over.
Dozens of shallow cuts laced its body.
And the one responsible?
A small, fiery red fox that moved like living flame. Its fur was vivid scarlet, streaked with orange around the limbs and tail-tip, like coals still smoldering. It had a lean, lithe frame—more runner than brawler—and piercing golden eyes that seemed too intelligent for a wild creature.
It blurred between leaps, each one faster than the last, leaving afterimages and claw marks behind.
It wasn't just fast—it was smart.
The fox played with the tiger, picking it apart little by little.
Kei narrowed his eyes.
The tiger tried to escape.
Failed.
Tried to land a blow.
Missed.
The fox was too quick.
Too clever.
Too vicious.
And the tiger…
Was getting desperate.
Its eyes blazed with frustration.
'Even if I die—I'll take you with me.'
"Roar!!!"
The tiger pounced.
The fox vanished.
It was mocking the bigger beast.
Then both creatures went still.
They'd seen Kei, Hayate, and Shadow.
Even if they didn't know exactly what kind of threat they were facing, they knew enough to be cautious.
This was the Forest of Death.
And these chakra beasts had survived here for a reason.
Still—
The tiger made its choice, betting on the humans distracting the fox long enough for it to escape.
It lunged for Kei, baring its teeth, claws tearing at the dirt, preparing to pounce.
Kei didn't even flinch.
"Shadow."
The crow shot into the sky.
"Steel Feathers—fire."
A rain of black blades fell.
The tiger didn't even have time to retreat, not even enough time to regret its folly.
Blood.
Impact.
Collapse.
Silence.
The red fox's eyes widened.
Then—
It turned and bolted.
A streak of flame vanishing into the trees.
Kei watched it.
Then smiled.
'That fox has talent. And pride.'
'Fast, sharp, and independent. Just like I was hoping for.'
"Hayate. Shadow. Catch it."
"Woof!"
Hayate vanished in a swirl of wind.
"Gah!"
Shadow flapped after him.
The chase was on.
....
Kei stepped lightly over a fallen tree, his eyes fixed in the direction the fox had vanished.
Hayate and Shadow were already out of sight—one dashing in the trees, the other cutting through the wind.
But Kei didn't rush.
Instead, he paused and crouched low, pressing a hand to the dirt.
Still warm.
Still trembling.
'It was just here. Less than ten seconds ago.'
He stood again, taking in the scene.
The red fox had chakra—dense and refined. Its movements weren't wild instinct, but trained control. Like it had sparred before. Hunted before. It knew the rhythms of battle.
'It's not just fast. It's strategic. It bleeds opponents out slowly—then waits for weakness. It doesn't kill until it's safe.'
Kei scanned the treetops. A flicker in the leaves. Shadow.
"Fan wide. Don't force it in one direction," he whispered.
Shadow croaked in acknowledgment and split off.
Kei's thoughts wandered briefly as he pressed forward.
Earlier that week.
"Again!"
Hayate bounded toward Shadow, jaws open in a mock bite. Shadow flared his wings and dove low, avoiding the snap with inches to spare.
Kei watched from a nearby stump, arms crossed.
They were practicing team maneuvers: feint and flank, dive and disrupt.
Hayate would charge in head-on, only for Shadow to descend from above and disorient the target. It was a simple but powerful combo.
Shadow's timing was improving.
Hayate's restraint was getting sharper too—he pulled his fangs just before contact.
"Hold formation," Kei said calmly.
Shadow adjusted midair.
Hayate spun, backpedaling without missing a beat.
'Good. They're syncing better.'
He let the session continue in silence for a few more minutes, then called a break.
Hayate padded over, panting happily.
Shadow landed on his shoulder, ruffling his feathers.
"You'll need this coordination soon," Kei had said then. "Not all summons will be raised with humans. Some of them will be wild—cautious, territorial, even hostile. We'll need to earn their trust, and if that fails, we'll have to earn control. Coordination will decide if we get the chance."
Hayate had wagged his tail.
His thoughts were simple: Kei was his master—the alpha of their little pack. Shadow was his brother—even if he was a funny-looking dog. Whatever came next, they'd face it together. His body expressed what words couldn't: loyalty, trust, and readiness.
"Woof!"
Through the contract link, Kei understood the intent perfectly.
'Give us the order, Master. We'll take care of it—doesn't matter who or what we're facing.'
Shadow had only blinked. But behind the stillness, he was thinking.
'Not all summons will come willingly...'
He looked at Kei, then at Hayate.
'But with teamwork, we can break that resistance. We don't have to win alone.'
He adjusted his perch and let out a soft, thoughtful caw.
'I understand, Master. I'm ready.'
Now.
'And here we are.'
A red blur darted ahead.
Kei spotted it.
"Left side. 40 meters," he called.
A gust of wind burst through the trees. Hayate.
Overhead, a crow's shriek. Shadow.
The fox juked sharply, dodging both.
It was testing them now.
Kei smiled faintly.
'Good. Let's see if you're the one.'