My Pet Fox Is Actually A Demon Prince-Chapter 45: Meeting An Old Master

Lord Caelion departed the Imperial hall in silence.

The great doors of the Auroral Citadel closed behind him with a deep, echoing sound, and the chill of the fractured heavens greeted him at once.

The palace corridor stretched endlessly beneath vaulted arches of white stone and gold. Foxfire lanterns floated high overhead, casting pale light across polished floors, whilst servants and officials moved quickly through the halls, each lowering their head the instant they beheld him.

Among the fox clans, noble society was divided into several ranks.

At its Pinnacle stood the Imperial Family.

Beneath them were the Nine Great Noble Houses, followed by the military clans, the scholars, the seers, the lesser fox families, and at the very bottom, the servants and sworn vassals.

Each of the Nine Great Houses governed a different pillar of the realm.

House Aurelian ruled beside the Imperial bloodline and oversaw the affairs of the throne.

House Lian presided over diplomacy, court politics, and the forging of alliances.

House Xue commanded the armies of the fox clans.

House Rin dealt in assassins, spies and all matters of hidden intelligence.

House Suyin guarded the sacred rites, temples and religious law.

House Kael maintained the Veinlights and the celestial mechanisms bound to them.

House Mirel governed healers, alchemists, and the ancient arts of medicine.

House Vaeris kept the archives and watched over knowledge forbidden to all others.

And lastly, there was House Shen, the warden of the Gates of Hell.

Lord Caelion, head of House Xue, was renowned throughout the Beastly Realm for all his mastery in battle. In these troubled days, with the corrupt creatures multiplying and the Veinlights failing, the Emperor had entrusted him with a decree:

He was to journey to the Sacred Order and choose from among the initiates those with enough promise to be forged into warriors worthy of defending the realm.

Caelion had once trained both Prince Calhoun and his late elder brother. For generations, his name had been spoken with reverence, for there had never been a disciple beneath him who did not rise to greatness. Hence, people saw him as their last line of defense should the problem escalate any further.

Because of this, the Imperial household had granted him a singular honor– a mask wrought especially for him alone.

It was a thing of pale ivory traced with fine strokes of crimson and gold.

No other in the realm possessed its equal.

Thus, when Lord Caelion would not conceal his face, most did not recognize him. But the moment the mask appeared, all knew precisely who stood behind it.

Caelion preferred it thus.

The mask granted him a freedom few men of his station could ever hope to possess. So long as his face remained hidden, he was spared the endless spectacle that followed his name. It even protected him, as rivals determined to steal his post could not assassinate him if they did not know who was behind the mask.

Before long, Caelion descended from the upper terraces of the citadel and entered the Market of the Nine Currents.

It was the only district within the veil of Aurelieth where lesser nobles, wandering immortals, and travelers from the Ascendant Territories were permitted to gather beneath the same sky.

The market rested upon a vast ring-shaped island of pale jade, suspended amidst the clouds like a fallen moon. Countless bridges of crystal and white stone linked its streets together, while up ahead, spirit lanterns and floating banners swayed beneath the wounded heavens.

Ordinarily, the Market of the Nine Currents was filled with music, bright voices, and the laughter of immortals.

But not now.

Now, unease lingered in every corner.

The merchants spoke in hushed voices. The banners fluttered without splendor, and even the foxfire seemed dimmer than before.

Yet Caelion paid little heed to it.

Without pause, he made his way through the crowded avenues, his dark robes stirring softly in its wake.

At the heart of the market stood an ancient-looking pavilion of blackwood and silver. Its doors were carved with foxfire sigils and the mark of spatial travel.

It was known throughout the veil of Aurelieth as The Pavilion of a Thousand Paths.

Here, transportation stones were forged, blessed and sold.

An elderly fox lady sat behind the counter, her silver ears twitching as Caelion entered. The moment she looked up and recognized him, she hurriedly rose from her seat and bowed low.

"Lord Caelion."

"I require transportation stones," he said simply.

The old spirit nodded at once and disappeared into the back of the pavilion. When she returned, she carried a lacquered box lined with dark velvet. In it lay several crystalline stones, each no larger than the palm of a hand.

They glimmered with shifting light, as though fragments of entire skies had been trapped within their depths.

"These are the finest we have," the old spirit said softly. "Each has been bound to one of the Lower realms. One among them has already been attuned to the Sacred Order."

Caelion reached down and lifted the attuned stone between his fingers. At once, faint silver runes flickered across its surface, and he tilted the stone lightly to capture the woman’s reflection, only to notice silver strands of hair.

But... the woman had her hair in a neat updo. Her hair was dark.

"...How did you know I was going to require one attuned to the Sacred Order?" he asked. "I only said that I needed transportation stones."

The old spirit’s smile faltered instantly.

For the briefest instant, silence settled over the pavilion.

Caelion’s dark eyes widened.

The woman suddenly moved before he could act. A flash of robe swept forward as the woman intended to grab him, swift as a striking shadow, but Caelion easily twisted aside before those clawed nails could touch him.

The briefest moment of hesitation was all she required.

In an instant, she slipped through the hanging silks and vanished beyond the rear of the pavilion.

Caelion followed without delay.

He passed through the hidden doorway and emerged within a narrow chamber that was well concealed behind the pavilion walls.

The room was small and dimly-lit, furnished only with a low table, a screen of carved jade, and a single hanging lantern whose pale flame swayed in silence.

Several paces away, the old spirit stood waiting, and she made no further move to attack, almost as if her actions earlier were to deliberately lead him here.

Before Caelion could confirm his suspicions, the woman’s form suddenly shimmered. Dark robes and unfamiliar features dissolved like mist, and in its place stood the silver-haired youth he had caught a glimpse of from the transportation stone.

Calhoun stood tall before him.

"...Prince Calhoun?"

Calhoun lowered himself at once to his knees.

"Uncle," he said quietly, not meeting his gaze. "How have you been?"

Lord Caelion remained where he stood, eyeing the boy from head to toe.

Relief surged through him at the sight of his disciple alive and unharmed.

Yet anger rose just as swiftly.

This was the child he had once taught, protected. The little fox who had followed after him without fail, stubborn and determined to a fault.

Now that child knelt before him again.

For a moment, Caelion did not know whether he wished to embrace him or strike him.

What was he doing here? Was he not aware of the trouble he was placing himself in if anyone else saw him here?

"What are you doing here?" he asked at last,his voice colder than he intended. "Are you here to seek forgiveness?"

"No."

Calhoun did not look up.

"But are you not going to hit me?" He asked instead, his voice quiet.

His expression was calm– too calm. His eyes were empty and cold, as though he had already prepared himself for whatever judgment awaited him.

"I am here before you," he said, "so if you are angry, let it out on me."

Only then did he finally raise his gaze.

"After that... we can speak."