"Duke!? Are you okay? Please open the door!"

Sykelion’s fist struck the heavy oak doors again, the sound echoing down the private corridor.

Inside—

Crash!

Something shattered violently against the wall.

A mirror, perhaps.

Or a vase.

Or furniture.

It was impossible to tell anymore.

"Leave me alone!"

The Duke’s voice was hoarse and strained as if he was being dragged over a broken glass.

Sykelion’s jaw tightened.

It was happening again. The Duke’s Hysteria had been unstable for months now.

At first, the episodes were rare—subtle fluctuations in mana, irritability, longer hours locked in his study. But recently...

The episodes comes twice a week now.

If his Hysteria spiraled completely out of control then they would have no choice but to restrain him and lock him in the underground chamber reinforced with mana-suppressing runes.

Again.

Only Sykelion and a handful of trusted servants knew of the Duke’s condition.

No one else.

No noble house.

No rival faction.

Not even the extended Renardon clan.

Because if word spread that Duke Renardon was unstable—

He would not be offered help and instead would be eliminated as the Duke’s relatives were hungry of power.

Crash!

Another violent impact shook the door slightly. Fine dust fell from the upper frame.

Behind Sykelion, several servants stood frozen in the hallway, faces pale with worry.

A young maid clutched her apron tightly. "Sir Vulpes... is the Duke—"

He straightened immediately, managing his expression into calm.

"The rest of you return to your quarters," he ordered evenly. "Do not come out until I say so."

"But what about you Sir?" one of the maids asked, voice trembling.

Sykelion gave her a reassuring smile—one he had practiced many times before. "Don’t worry about me. The Duke is just in a bad mood as usual."

It’s a lie but it’s a necessary one.

The servants hesitated, exchanging worried glances, but they still obeyed him. One by one, their footsteps retreated down the corridor until only the silence remained.

Once everyone finally left, he stood there for a moment and took a deep breath—one of those long, dramatic ones people take before doing something incredibly stupid.

Then he pulled out the energy stone he had ordered earlier.

He stared at it.

Over the past few weeks, he had hunted down every carver he could find. Grand Masters. Senior artisans. That one guy who swore he could carve "emotion" into stone. Even a trembling novice who had nearly fainted when he saw the Duke’s condition.

And yet every single one of their works had been useless.

The Grand Masters’ carvings only suppressed the beast influence slightly. The migraines lessened, sure, but that was like putting a tiny bandage on a collapsing castle. Technically helpful but practically pointless.

Which left him with... this.

He turned the energy stone over in his palm.

It was carved into a perfect fox—sleek lines, elegant curves, the craftsmanship so precise it almost looked alive.

He swallowed.

"If this doesn’t work," he muttered to himself, "then I sincerely hope the goddess is feeling charitable today."

Because he certainly wasn’t.

With the courage of a man who had already mentally written his will, he pushed open the door.

The room inside was pitch black.

He froze.

The curtains had been torn down; only thin slivers of light filtered through the jagged gaps in the fabric. The room smelled of shattered wood, dust, and the sharp metallic scent of blood.

"D-Duke?" he called cautiously.

"D-Duke?" he called out carefully.

The door shut behind him.

Click.

The sound echoed far louder than it had any right to.

He swallowed and took a careful step forward.

Crrrrk!

Slowly, very slowly, he looked down.

"...Oh."

Under his foot were the shattered remains of an energy stone.

The Duke’s energy stone.

The one that was supposed to keep him stable.

"This... seems bad."

Then he heard it.

Right beside him.

Ragged breathing.

Not human breathing.

The kind of breathing that belonged to something very large... very angry... and very close.

He turned his head—

And immediately regretted it.

Because in the next second, something slammed into his torso with brutal force.

BOOM!

He was flung across the room like a decorative pillow, his back slamming into the wall with a bone-rattling thud. Air rushing from his lungs in a violent gasp.

"...Ow," he slid down slowly as he gritted his teeth.

This damn Duke really was the strongest of all the Renardons.

But seriously—was it necessary to throw him into the wall?

The Duke could have just smashed him into the ground like a normal person.

Across the dim room, glowing eyes were glaring back at him.

The Duke’s transformation was incomplete—but far enough.

He pushed himself up, wobbling slightly. "D-Duke, please come to your senses—"

One of the Duke’s tails snapped forward like a whip and wrapped around his ankle with terrifying speed.

He had exactly one second to process this.

"Oh no—"

WHAM!

He was flung across the room for the second time as he hit the opposite wall.

At this point, he was starting to feel like a very expensive tennis ball as the pain shot through his ribs.

He lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling. "Okay, that’s it!" he snapped.

He stood up, brushing dust off his clothes with what little dignity he had left.

"If we’re doing it this way, then we’re doing it this way."

With a flash of energy, he transformed into his beast form.

"Sorry, Duke," he said, cracking his neck.

"Doctor’s orders."

Then he lunged forward.

The Duke met him head-on.

The first clash alone shook the room,

The impact rang out like a thunderclap, and the last intact window finally surrendered to its fate.

CRASH!

Glass exploded outward into the light.

They moved fast—far too fast for ordinary eyes to follow. One moment they were near the door, the next they had already crossed the entire chamber.

A massive tail whipped through the air and slammed into Sykelion’s shoulder.

THUD!

The force nearly spun him around.

"—Ghk!"

He gritted his teeth and retaliated instantly, sweeping his own clawed hand across the Duke’s side.

The strike landed cleanly. Or at least... it should have. But the Duke barely flinched, not even a proper reaction.

"Of course you wouldn’t," Sykelion muttered bitterly.

Because why would the strongest Renardon in existence react to something so trivial as being slashed across the ribs?

The Duke lunged again.

Sykelion barely twisted aside in time, claws tearing past his face and embedding into the wall behind him. The stone cracked like dry bark.

Before he could recover, another tail came from the side.

WHAM!

He blocked it with his forearm, but the impact still sent him sliding across the floor.

The two of them crashed straight through what remained of the Duke’s desk.

Wood splintered everywhere. Drawers exploded open. Papers flew into the air like frightened birds. Somewhere in the chaos, a chair gave up on life entirely.

The Duke roared, a deep, feral, and completely inhuman.

Sykelion ducked under another sweeping tail strike, his heart pounding.

’This wasn’t good.’

’No.’

’This was extremely not good.’

The Duke had clearly lost most of his rationality. His movements were pure instinct now—fast, brutal, and relentless.

Which meant Sykelion had exactly one chance to end this before he became the next decorative stain on the Duke’s carpet.

While dodging another claw swipe, he reached into his coat mid-motion.

His fingers closed around the object inside.

The fox stone.

Even now, he could feel the faint warmth of the carved energy inside it.

He gritted his teeth.

’This is stupid.’

’This is incredibly stupid.’

But it was also the only plan he had.

So he did the one thing that went against every survival instinct in his body.

He dropped his guard completely as the Duke reacted instantly. Like a predator spotting weakness.

The massive fox lunged.

Claws flashed through the air—

SLASH!

Sykelion felt the sharp pain tear across his chest as the Duke’s claws raked through fabric and skin alike.

"—Tch!"

Blood welled instantly but instead of retreating, he pushed forward. Straight into the attack and closing their distance.

The fox stone clenched tightly in his hand, he drove forward, aiming to slam the energy stone directly against the Duke’s sternum.

’Just one second—’

’Just one—’

But the Duke was faster.

A massive hand shot out and caught him mid-motion.

"Fuck—"

The next moment—

BOOM!

Sykelion was slammed violently into the ground.

The impact knocked the air from his lungs in one brutal rush.

Before he could even recover a hand wrapped around his throat.

The Duke pinned him down effortlessly.

Sykelion clawed at the hand instinctively as pressure tightened around his neck.

His lungs burned as air refused to come in.

"—kgh—" He coughed weakly.

’Is... this how I’m going to die?’

His thoughts started racing in a very unhelpful direction.

’I haven’t even gotten married yet.’

’No pups.’

’My parents are going to be devastated.’

They’ll probably say something like: "We told you not to work for that crazy Duke."

His vision began to blur. Dark spots crept into the corners of his sight.

’Wow... this is really it.’

’What a terrible way to go.’