Suddenly, the pressure on his throat loosened as air rushed back into his lungs.

Sykelion immediately rolled to the side, coughing violently as he sucked in several desperate breaths.

"Hah—! Hah—!"

He looked up, confused.

The Duke had stepped away.

For a moment, Sykelion thought the man was about to attack again.

Instead, the Duke was staring at the floor.

More specifically—

At the fox-shaped energy stone.

Somehow, during the struggle, it had fallen from Sykelion’s hand and landed between them.

The Duke stepped on it and the moment his foot made contact, the stone reacted.

A faint glow spread through the carved fox.

The energy rippled outward and the Duke froze.

His breathing was still rough, shoulders rising and falling as if he had just run through a battlefield.

Seconds passed.

Then more.

The tension in the room slowly shifted.

The wild, murderous aura surrounding the Duke began to settle.

His tails stilled one by one, the fox ears on his head twitched, then he took a deep breathe.

Then another.

Finally—

His eyes cleared.

Duke Vesphyr Renardon had returned to himself.

At least... mostly.

His fox ears and multiple tails were still very much present.

But compared to earlier, this was practically a miracle.

Sykelion stared at him for a long moment before letting out a long, exhausted breath. "...Have you come to your senses now, Duke Renardon?"

He finally allowed himself to slump fully onto the floor.

His arms hurt. His chest hurt. His throat hurt.

Everything hurts.

If he stand up right now, his legs might actually file a formal complaint.

The Duke didn’t answer.

Instead, he bent down and picked up the fox-shaped stone from the ground.

He studied it carefully, turning it between his fingers. His expression was unusually serious.

Sykelion waited, still breathing heavily.

Finally, the Duke spoke. "Who made this?"

His voice was calmer now, but there was still a faint roughness to it.

Sykelion stared at him.

For several seconds.

In complete silence.

Then his eye twitched.

Sykelion pushed himself up halfway, immediately regretting it when several parts of his body protested at once.

His hair was a mess. His clothes were shredded. There were claw marks across his chest, bruises forming along his ribs, and he was still lying half-sprawled on the floor like a discarded rug.

The room looked worse.

The desk was gone. Not broken—gone. Reduced to splinters and emotional trauma.

One wall had a Duke-shaped crater in it.

The windows had all shattered.

And this man—

This man—

Had the audacity to start the conversation like this?

"...Really?"

The Duke didn’t look up, still examining the stone.

Sykelion dragged a hand down his face.

"That’s the first thing you say?" Sykelion demanded hoarsely. "No ’thank you,’ no ’sorry I nearly strangled you to death,’ no ’Sykelion, you brave and handsome genius who just saved my life’?"

The Duke finally glanced at him.

Sykelion immediately straightened slightly. "—Ahem." He cleared his throat with great dignity for someone currently bleeding on the carpet.

"Good question," he said, nodding as if they were discussing trade agreements over tea instead of the aftermath of a feral fox brawl. "Very insightful question."

He attempted to stand but his legs wobbled so he decided sitting was fine.

"But before we address that," Sykelion continued carefully, "I would like to formally announce my resignation."

He raised a finger weakly.

"Yes. I believe this is the correct time to resign. A very reasonable moment. I almost died. Several times, actually."

He gestured vaguely around the destroyed room.

"I was thrown into a wall. Twice. I was used as a floor ornament. I was choked. I believe at one point my spine briefly left my body."

The Duke said nothing.

Sykelion continued.

"I’m young," he added solemnly. "I still have dreams. Aspirations. I had hoped to get married someday."

He sighed dramatically.

"Have pups. Live a peaceful life where I am not regularly attacked by a berserk fox duke."

He rubbed his throat where faint bruises were already forming.

"My parents raised me with expectations, Your Grace. Expectations that did not include becoming a chew toy."

The Duke opened his mouth.

"I’ll give you an additional bonus," he said flatly.

Sykelion paused, his finger slowly lowered.

"And," the Duke continued calmly, still studying the stone, "I’ll add one hundred thousand CP to your salary."

There was a long pause.

Sykelion coughed.

Sykelion blinked once.

Then twice.

Very slowly, he straightened his posture as he cleared his throat.

He brushed imaginary dust from his sleeve. "Did I say resign?" he said smoothly.

"Because I believe what I meant was re-sign."

He nodded to himself.

"Yes. Re-sign. As in continuing my service. Loyalty. Dedication. Devotion to my noble Duke."

His voice gained strength with every word.

"Honestly, Your Grace, the idea of leaving never even crossed my mind. I was merely... testing your leadership."

The Duke looked at him.

Sykelion smiled brightly despite the blood on his lip. "Excellent response, by the way."

He leaned forward slightly.

"Now, regarding the stone," he pointed toward the stone still resting in the Duke’s hand.

"That masterpiece," Sykelion said proudly, lifting a finger like a lecturer about to deliver an important academic discovery, "I happened to stumble upon it at StrataLink."

The Duke’s ear twitched slightly.

Sykelion, meanwhile, had already switched fully into storytelling mode.

"It started trending," he continued. "You know how it is. One moment you’re looking for medical solutions to prevent your employer from going feral and accidentally redecorating the estate with your bones, and the next moment the algorithm throws something completely unrelated at you."

He gestured vaguely in the air.

"Cute fox carving. Suspiciously expensive price. Brand-new shop with almost no history."

He leaned back on one arm and shrugged.

"And since I’ve already ordered carvings from every carver in the empire—Grand Masters, Master Artisans, that old man who claims he once carved for the royal family—"

He paused.

Then added dryly,

"—and since all of them turned out to be spectacular disappointments..."

He pointed again at the stone.

"I figured it wouldn’t hurt to order from one suspicious little shop on StrataLink."

He snapped his fingers.

"Then bam!"

His eyes widened dramatically.

"Who knew that it would work much better than the energy stones carved by those famous and incredibly arrogant carvers?"

He let out a small scoff.

"Honestly, if those Grand Masters ever find out about this, they’ll probably faint. Or start a war."

The Duke said nothing and just quietly studied the fox stone again.

Meanwhile, Sykelion scratched the back of his neck.

Because the truth was...

’This wasn’t actually supposed to be for the Duke.’

Originally, he had ordered the stone for himself.

Being around the Duke during one of his Hysteria was a bit like living beside a volcano that occasionally woke up and started throwing lava at people.

Which meant Sykelion had been quietly gathering protective tools for personal survival.

Just in case.

Purely professional preparation.

Absolutely not cowardice.

And yet somehow...

The stone worked on the Duke as well.

’Which is either extremely fortunate... or deeply concerning.’

He pushed that thought aside.

"Anyway," Sykelion continued aloud, clapping his hands once, "the name of the shop is Crimson Snow Atelier."

The Duke’s gaze flickered slightly.

"No one knows who the owner is yet," Sykelion added. "The shop just appeared one day. No background, no history, no known master carver attached to it."

He leaned forward slightly.

"Which, I admit, is a little suspicious."

Then he paused.

His expression shifted as he frowned thoughtfully.

"...Actually..."

His eyes slowly widened.

"...Now that I think about it..."

He pointed at the Duke again.

"If you decide to recruit the shop owner," he said carefully, "I should probably ask for another raise."

The Duke didn’t even look up.

"Request a custom order from that shop," he said simply.

Sykelion blinked.

"And tell them money isn’t the problem."

There was a brief silence.

Then Sykelion slowly nodded.

"...Right."

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"Which kind of order are we talking about here?"

He glanced at the fox stone.

"A stronger suppressor?"

"Something portable?"

"Or perhaps a decorative item that prevents you from trying to murder your staff?"

The Duke gave him a flat look.

Sykelion immediately raised both hands.

"Just asking! Just asking."

He slowly got to his feet, though his knees protested violently.

"...I’ll contact them."

He paused then looked at the destroyed room.

The shattered windows.

The obliterated furniture.

The claw marks on the walls.

And finally, the Duke.

"Your Grace," Sykelion said carefully.

"Yes?"

"Next time you lose control..."

He gestured weakly at the room.

"...can we do it outside?"

The Duke looked down at the fox stone again.

"Next time," he said calmly, "you should run faster."

Sykelion stared at him then sighed.

"...I really deserve that salary increase."

He eventually managed to push himself upright and it was not graceful.

In fact, it involved a great deal of groaning, one hand bracing his ribs, and a brief moment where he questioned whether standing was truly necessary in life.

"Right," he muttered to himself.

One slow step.

Then another.

His leg protested immediately.

"...Fantastic."