The True Confessions of a Nine-Tailed Fox

Chapter 134: Where Others See Tragedy

Or rather, the moment that the Divine Intercessor would intercede and save everyone's lives. Cue the obligatory festival of thanksgiving (which, conveniently, we'd already organized) and the lavish offerings.

All that was left to do was lay a bit of groundwork.

According to the butterfly spirits, whom I sent to scout, the demon horde was so vast that it raised a dust storm beneath its feet and darkened the sky with its wings. Humans in its path were bundling up belongings and tossing them and their children into carts. Gopher spirits who didn't want to get pressganged were pushing along wheelbarrows of their most precious possessions. Fish spirits hid deep in their lakes. Birds and bees strained their wings to carry their nests and hives out of harm's way.

"The army is like a swarm of locusts, High Priest," the butterfly spirits reported to Katu, their nominal boss. "Wherever they pass, they eat the humans, trample the rice paddies, and force the spirits to join them or die."

Lodia squeaked, and Bobo drooped in sorrow, but that was about what I expected. I mean, what else would you do if you were a demon army? Not eat the tasty humans in front of you? It would be like putting a platter of white sugar rice cakes in front of Anthea and expecting her to not gobble them up. You could expect it, but the expectation itself would be an act of lunacy.

When was the lassst time they ssstopped to ressst? I asked through Bobo.

Spirits might not require as much sleep as humans, but they did still need it.

"Which part of the army?" a butterfly double-checked.

I beg your pardon?

"Different parts of the army stop to rest at different times. That's why it's so spread out."

Ha! That confirmed it: The demon army wasn't a monolith. Well, of course it wouldn't be. Unify that many demons under one leader, when the definition of a demon was a spirit who rejected the arbitrary rules and regulations of "polite" society?

Impossible.

No one could do it.

And with that, I had them.

I started from a group of wild cat demons who had settled down by a brook. Some of the extremely furry, grey cats were crouched by the water, sticking their paws in to scoop out fish. A litter of kittens who resembled puffballs play-fought nearby, hissing and batting at one another with their paws. Other adults, presumably the high-ranking ones, flopped on their backs and sunned their bellies.

Bobo slithered up with hardly a rustle, but the cats' rounded ears twitched. They bunched up to confront us, pushing the kittens behind them. Low growls rumbled from their throats and vibrated the earth. If we were in the mountains, they could trigger a landslide against us. As it was, Bobo rocked a little before she regained her balance. Riding on her head, I flapped my wings once.

"Hi! Whatcha doing?" she asked the demons cheerfully.

The largest cat didn't rise from his crouch. His striped tail swished behind him dangerously. "Who are you? What are you doing here?"

"I'm Bobo! I'm a bamboo viper. I'm from the Claymouth Barony in Eassst Ssserica."

The demon's tail swished faster. "You haven't answered my question. What are you doing here?"