“You will,” the wolf said in Hyeon’s native tongue. With their upper bodies grazing, his low voice vibrated against him, feeling it in all… places Hyeon shouldn’t be feeling it. “Tell me who you're affiliated with!”

Why does he have to interrogate me in this position? How could a “Master” treat their underlings so terribly? You don’t deserve to be called that, at least not by me!

Hyeon stammered while squirming to get free, “I-I’m not with anyone. I’m just here to work and then move on.”

Fenrir’s eyes narrowed with suspicion, amber eyes burning into him, not loosening his rough grip on Hyeon’s arms. If anything, he clutched tighter to prevent him from breaking free. 

“They wouldn’t let someone like you wander around freely. Not with the type of soul you have.”

“Who? Seriously, I don’t know! To me, none of this existed until a few days ago… Master Fenrir.” The word “Master” came out more sarcastic than he meant it.

"Ljúga (“Lies”). Was it Zeus? Huitzilopochtli? My grandfather?” Hatred oozed in his voice as he said the third name, fangs glistening with intimidation from the hallway lighting peeking in. “There’s no doubt about your energy. It’s too potent, too strong. And I bet you’ll use it against me. They are all against me. There’s no one on my side.”

Hyeon was at a loss for words. Fear slowly seeped into him. The livid god above was giving off a dangerous aura, enough to make Haruma fidget, too.

Fenrir snapped in aggravation from the silence. “So you’re not going to talk? I see. Since you are refusing to reveal whomever you swear your allegiance to, perhaps I should send them your corpse instead? It’s been a very long time since I’ve been able to extract energy in the way I want to—with no boundaries and worries that I might accidentally kill my interns. I crave to devour every last drop of your soul.”

Fenrir squeezed his thighs tighter, locking in Hyeon for good measure. He leaned closer for an energy-sucking kiss, panting mouths only a hair-length apart. It was close enough that Hyeon could feel a stinging scrape from a fang against his bottom lip. A small drop of blood oozed out from the cut. Red trailed down his cheek.

Before this terrifying moment could go any further, the potential killer paused and sat up with a huff. His strength was enough to pin Hyeon’t wrists with just one hand. Sharp nails pressed hard on the inner wrist insignia. 

Fenrir looked to his right, annoyance flashing across his face. “I see that a fox is wedging into business he shouldn't be.”

Haruma was squatting right next to them with a deadpan face. When did… he move there? Both were at the same eye level. “My Lord, you’re misunderstanding.”

“And how so? It’s quite obvious someone like him is a mole. I want to know which god. They must be powerful. He’s an infiltrator with enough soul energy to replenish any high-ranking deity to full strength. Possibly, he could have the power to take away energy, too. It took several incompetent dýrs to supply me the same amount this one could… with just a few touches.”

I did what? How? Is that why he’s skeptical of me? This is bullshit.

Haruma remained in his squatting position, unfazed by the intense questioning. “Yes, you're misunderstanding.”

“How am I not understanding?”

“Mr. Descheeni,” Haruma simply replied, referring to the Navajo divinity who hired Hyeon. Where was he, anyway? Now would be an excellent time for him to show up!

“And? What about Coyote?” Fenrir said in a low snarl. Haruma’s vague answers were aggravating everyone.

“He hired him. For you.”

The black wolf was at his wit’s end. “How does that verify this dýr’s loyalty?”

“My Lord, if he were guilty, Mr. Descheeni would’ve killed him instantly. You know he would have.”

W-what?!

Fenrir sighed and muttered to himself, “This fox better be leaving my castle soon. It’s been long enough.” 

Releasing his tight grip, Hyeon quickly crawled away to escape the monstrous hold. He couldn’t tell if being almost eaten by a hyena demon or dying at the hands of their ruler was more scary. Once far enough, he stayed on the ground, wiping off the blood from his face. 

The god stood and—SNAP—snapped his fingers. At the sound, the wall torches lit with fire. But his wolf features didn’t return this time, no tail or ears appearing. Perhaps it had something to do with how much energy he absorbed. 

He looked down at Hyeon with disdain and said in Old Norse, “Þú hafallrr. Hvernig heppinn.” (“You have allies. How lucky”). Then he instructed Haruma, “I expect him to have a better presentation. His uniform is a mess. Do not make me wait again. In addition, I don’t want to hear my name escape from his throat. It’s disgusting. Master only.”

Excuse me? That’s fucking rude, isn’t it?

Hyeon’s trainer bowed. “Understood, My Lord.”

As Hyeon’s new boss waved to dismiss them, he wavered. Thinking. Analyzing. Eyes squinting. “Why… is there an unwelcomed creature here?”

Both servants looked around until they noticed a small, black soot ball at the door entrance. Its back arched with its fur standing up, hissing at Fenrir. Nammi! Hyeon was astonished to see her there! 

How did she even find this place?

The cat feebly sprung forward with small hisses at the deity. Her tiny body—attempting so hard to intimidate—was more cute than anything. The spirits here seemed to be afraid of her, but not Fenrir.

“How did it get in my castle? Or even in Festrheim?”

Worried he would do something to Nammi, Hyeon clambered up and scooped her in his arms. 

“Damned Coyote brought some dangerous things this time,” Fenrir stated matter-of-factly, glaring at both Hyeon and his pet. 

“Fá út.” (“Get out”)

Haruma bowed, tapping on Hyeon’s shoulder to copy. Not wanting to, but having no choice, he did the same. When they left, the massive doors banged shut. 

His trainer indifferently told Hyeon, “I admit... this job might kill you.”