Chapter 7: Unholy Tomfoolery + Announcement!

WOOO! Fox Girl Evolution is live on RR!!

https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/129186/fox-girl-evolution-a-monster-evolutionprogression

Drop a follow/fav/rating even if you’ve already read it. (It really helps!)

I’ve decided not to put Fox Girl on Patreon (for now). Between my job and writing Jadey, am already stretched thin :( and so Patreon will stay Jade-exclusive for now. If Fox Girl really pops off on RR though… well, maybe that’ll be my excuse to quit the day job haha and focus on that too.

Anyway, Chapter 7’s here and it’s a beefy one. Enjoy!

***

Also, forgot to add, Fox Girl Evolution is part of a monster girl evolution extravaganza on RR!

There are 10 other monster girl evolution stories launching alongside mine. I’ve beta-read them all, and even though they share the same theme (monster girls evolving) each one is wildly unique.

What started as a dumb joke between friends snowballed into a full on writing challenge… and, well, as an ahem.. expert monster girl evolution writer, I couldn’t resist jumping in

So definitely check the others out too! And if you wanna hang out with all of us writers + readers, we’ve got a combined Monster Girl Evo Discord: https://discord.gg/bTQt6XJVBw

Fish Girl Evolution by Lunadea

Cat Girl Evolution by Bedivere the Mad

Fox Girl Evolution by Mangowo

Magpie Girl Evolution by AmberAtlas

Phoenix Girl Evolution by FabioKun

Zombie Girl Evolution by Evil Lemon

Cow Girl Evolution by shallren

Speed of Light [Horse Girl Evolution] by Tachyon Rudolf

Puppy Girl Evolution by Winter Knights

Succulent Girl Evolution by ahoge_bird

Demon Girl Evolution by grisaille

****

“Deliberately blocking the path of Sun’s Chosen… you all are aware of your transgression, aren’t you?”

It was already evening, though out here the fading light felt even thinner, as if the dusk itself wanted to weave a haunting shroud over the place.

The hooded figures didn’t answer. One of them simply stepped forward and made a subtle gesture. A ping jolted through my head, gone before I could latch onto it. Damn it. I really need to work on catching those.

As the gesture completed, Leonardo’s sword vanished from its scabbard… and reappeared in his hand. A startled grunt escaped him as the weapon’s unexpected weight yanked him off-balance. He stumbled, clutching his wrist with a pained hiss. Oop. That probably shattered a few finger bones.

But the stolen weapon blazed bright with silver flame and tore itself free, gliding back into Leonardo’s hands like a hawk returning to its master.

Every hooded figure flinched at once.

And then the rest of the Sun Inquisitors stepped out, all four of them, armored head to toe, eyes like sharpened steel and all too eager for some holy violence.

“I ask again,” Leonardo growled, flexing his injured hand, the sword steady now. “Who are you, and what purpose drives this blockade?”

I hated the man, but credit where it’s due, he did look annoyingly cool just then.

Whoever these strangers were, they’d already recovered from the earlier disaster, when one of them had, quite literally, broken his own hand trying to swipe the Sunwarden’s blade. Shame. That spell had been impressive: stealing a weapon without touch or contact. Would’ve been dazzling if not for the humiliating finger-snap finale.

[Yeah… amateurs!]

Exactly! Couldn’t even put on a decent show!

That’s when another figure stepped forward, emerging cleanly from the shadows. Definitely the ringleader. He wore a clown mask, fitting, though the atmosphere he carried was anything but comic.

“Ah… please disregard the rookie blunder,” the Clown Mask said airily, slapping the injured thief’s shoulder hard enough to make him yelp. “Still polishing the new recruits. Now… apologies for the roadblock. We simply require something you’ve… acquired. Something that belongs to us.” He rubbed his gloved hands together.

What even was happening anymore?

“You block the Sun’s path,” Leonardo countered, his voice like forged ice, “knowing who we are? Knowing our mission was covert? Yet you intercept us precisely here and now. You’ve been watching.” His deduction was sharp.

The Clown Mask shrugged, clapping slowly. “Not obligated to confirm or deny… am I?”

Leonardo lifted his blade, radiant aura flaring like sunlight breaking free of cloud. “Then don’t mind me if I pry the answer out by force.”

His sword gleamed as he lunged.

But before steel could meet mask, the first hooded figure, the one with mangled fingers, threw himself in the way. He moved so fast I almost doubted my own eyes. Leonardo’s blazing sword carved into him, tearing a brutal gash across his back. An agonized scream tore through the woods.

Why? Why the hell would he throw himself on the blade for clown-face?

The answer followed quickly. The man twisted around, veins bulging, eyes lit crimson with a mad fire. His fingers elongated, curdling into shadowy talons, as he lunged at Leonardo with feral hunger.

And then the rest of the hooded figures followed, their movements jerky and unhinged, surging forward all at once.

The clown didn’t move an inch. He simply stood there, mask grinning and presence menacing, while his they all descended into rabid frenzy.

It was as if something had snapped inside them, some madness or influence flooding their veins and driving them straight into bloodlust.

Leonardo tried channeling some ability, and what spilled out was exactly what you’d imagine “holy light” to look like. Radiant, intense and blinding. But the results were rather… underwhelming, given the sheer force of that glow.

“Ah, yes,” the Clown Mask mused, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Holy fire needs wicked tinder to truly blaze. Against the pure… or what’s made pure? It’s barely a warm glow.” I couldn’t see his face, but the smugness practically radiated through the mask.

For the first time, genuine alarm flickered across Leonardo’s face. “What are these people? What foulness have you worked upon them?!”

“Once again,” the clown replied smoothly, “Obligation to answer remains… optional, Inquisitor.”

Leonardo’s expression hardened back into forged steel. His sword ignited, blazing brighter. A few more incantations, and he was once again a miniature sun – radiant aura pulsing, halo blazing behind him, lesser glows bolstering his allies.

“Agnes!” Leonardo barked, his voice cutting through the manic screams. “Protect Inquisitor Julia and her familiar! Basil, anchor the left flank! Percival, hold the right! Let none slip past!”

He planted himself at the center. When a rabid cultist lunged, Leonardo’s sword met them with brutal efficiency. Yet the results were unnerving. Deep gashes, torn limbs, near-crippling wounds… the berserkers barely slowed. Pain seemed irrelevant to their feral frenzy. This was something beyond just madness and resiliance; it felt like something else was piloting their broken bodies.

Meanwhile, my skull was ringing with the constant barrage of pings. Spellfire crackled everywhere, dozens of them going off at once. I couldn’t lock onto every one, but I caught a handful, enough to let my trait archive them for later. My abilities might be single-target, but knowledge was still worth hoarding. Always.

Then another ping hit. Different.

I tilted my head. Each detection carried the rough signature of where it came from and this one wasn’t tied to the fight at all. It was bleeding in from the forest beside the road.

…Huh?

I probed the details.

[Detection Scrying Ritual.]

A ritual?

[Seems like it.]

Okay, before you flood my brain with entire spell architecture, I thought hurriedly, just analyze the damn purpose and give me the highlights.

[Lazy fuck.]

Excuse me for prioritizing battlefield efficiency over your technical deep dive! Now chop chop!

[Fine… hmm… Looks like the name says it all. A detection scrying attempt. Primary function appears to be… bloodline detection.]

…And what does that mean?

[Still parsing, but, it looks like the ritual’s target is Julia.]

Wait... Julia?!

[No idea for that. But it wouldn’t be too far fetched to assume these people’s current target was Julia herself.]

I glanced back at Julia. She was glaring daggers at the clown, who was casually pulling the strings of these poor people, puppeting them against the Sun Inquisitors. Helplessness clung to her like a second skin. Sure, she had unleashed those massive shadow-tentacles earlier, but I knew the truth now too, that strength wasn’t hers. It came from external enchantments, not her own core power.

If I were in her place, I’d be frustrated too. As for me, there wasn’t much I could do here, not directly. But at least now I knew the truth: these people were targeting Julia.

[Her statistical improbability index is… concerning.]

My trait’s dry ping echoed my own unease.

Yeah. No argument.

Coincidences happen. Once? Fine. Twice? Unlikely, but plausible. Three times in one gods-damned day? That wasn’t chance, that was a pattern etched in blazing neon.

And the worst part was that I was starved of knowledge. No context, no answers, nothing. I didn’t want conspiracies, cults, and rituals. I just wanted naps and bacon like a proper fox, not these conspiracy theories. Instead… I was pissed!

Fine then. Let’s peel apart this ritual. Like before, just highlight the most important spells in its weave.

[Ritual Modification Interface: Detection Scrying]
[Core Function: Utilize personal object/biological essence (blood, hair, teeth, skin) from a blood relative to pinpoint target location. Bypasses standard anti-scrying wards via kinship resonance.]

Core Modifiable Components:

1. Bloodline Analysis Sigil (Tier 1 Analysis Spell)

   • Identifies the target through genetic or spiritual resonance.

   • Requires a material component linked to the family line.

2. Spirit-Tether Invocation (Tier 2 Invocation Spell)

   • Creates a link between the caster and the Spirit World to confirm identity.

   • Acts as the ritual’s “anchor,” pulling truth from beyond surface protections.

3. Target Conduit Binding (Tier 2 Binding Spell)

   • Connects the ritual’s completed tether to the intended subject.

   • In this case: Julia.

All the spells in this ritual were Tier I or II, meaning every single one was modifiable. Twisting any of them should, in theory, nullify the whole thing or at least erase the glowing mark off Julia’s back.

But that wasn’t the full problem. If these lunatics were already throwing themselves at Sun Inquisitors, then they must’ve known Julia was in one of the carriages. The scrying wasn’t to find her, it was to confirm.

Which made things tricky. Simply making the mark vanish wouldn’t matter. Neither would swapping the target like I did last time. I needed something sharper.

Didn’t you say rituals were inherently unstable? What happens if I deliberately tip this one over the edge?

[The collected energy would try to escape. Best-case scenario, it pops like a firecracker... you walk away with maybe fourth-degree burns. Worst-case, it goes sideways and you win the magical lottery of tumors, mutations, or some other flavor of magic cancer! FUN! Ahem... What I’m saying is: ritual backlash is always chaotic. Predictability is off the table.]

So what could we actually do to destabilize it right now?

[Pick the most outrageous option you can imagine... something that scrambles the ritual’s processing. Normally, I rewrite things to preserve stability, but… I suppose I can turn that off for once. As a treat.]

My eyes glittered. My precious trait… it understood me. On such a deep level that I was almost... verklempt.

[Never use that word again.]

Good enough. A list of modifications sprang into being for the Spirit-Tether Invocation.

[Enchantment Modification Interface: Spirit Tether]
[Target Spell Structure: Tier II Anchor]
[Available Modifications:]

• Phantom Proxy Anchor: Redirects tether through a fabricated spirit proxy instead of the true spirit link. Ritual result appears genuine but delivers false/decoy information.
  Success rate: 98%

• Reversed Invocation Gradient:
  Instead of confirming identity through the Spirit World, it projects the [Trickery]’s own resonance outward, briefly masking or altering the “truth” the ritual can detect. Also allowing [Trickery] to spy on them.
  Success rate: 87%.

• Entropic Spirit Gate
  Weakens the Spirit World barrier during invocation, allowing hostile or undefined entities to piggyback into the tether.
  Success rate: 73%

Hoh?

Ohohohohohoho!

LET’S PICK THE THIRD OPTION!

[LET’S PICK THE THIRD OPTION!]

Me and [Trickery] spoke as one.

Truly, our understanding operated on an atomic wavelength.

***

Hah… sounded like the battle had already kicked off. Good. Their turn would come soon.

Daniel glanced at his companion, crouched on the dirt with chalk dust on his fingers. A neat circle had been drawn, and now Basil held a pendant over it, eyes closed, lips muttering steady as a mill. Three candles, each a different color, flickered at the perimeter, their smoke curling in uneven threads.

Basil was a Tier II cultivator of the Moon’s Aspect. Like most who carried the moon in their veins, he came packaged with the usual gifts: divination, scrying, glimpses of what lay beyond. At present, he wore the Moon Aspect’s trappings as a [Druid].

“How long’s this going to take?” Daniel yawned.

Basil didn’t flicker, his muttering unwavering. Daniel shook his head. Divinators. Touchy as cats in a thunderstorm if you breathed too loud during a working. He knew the drill, prepare for an earful later. Which, naturally, made poking the bear irresistible.

“Look,” Daniel pressed, “We know she’s in that fancy carriage. Boss has the Sunboys dancing. Let’s just grab her while they’re distracted.”

Basil’s eyes snapped open, sharp as flint. “And you get to explain to the boss if it goes sideways because we charged in blind? I’m confirming her presence now. That confirmation acts like… like a lodestone. It makes the next question, ‘Will grabbing her get us killed?’ infinitely clearer to pry into.” His knuckles whitened on the pendant.

Daniel chuckled. “You’re too paranoid. What danger could an Aspectless mortal possibly pose to us?”

“I’ve told you before, she should have died today. I’ve been tracking her since we slipped that mask to the auction house. I haven’t looked away once. And I can say with certainty: the Mask bonded with her. It’s been shielding her all along. Or have you forgotten why we’re even here? The Mask chose her. We need to pry her out their hands before the Sun Inquisitors realize what they’ve got. So no, we can never be paranoid enough.”

Daniel lifted his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Just don’t take all night.”

“I wouldn’t, if a certain someone wasn’t trying to actively sabotage my concentration!” Basil shot him a glare.

Daniel only chuckled again, letting the sound die as his gaze swept toward the treeline. The world sharpened in an instant, details zooming in crisp and clean. Even from this distance, he picked out the smallest movements in the foliage.

He was a cultivator of the Hunt’s Aspect, currently standing at Tier II as a [Tracker]. He’d only broken into Tier II recently, but that didn’t make him weak, far from it. Hunters didn’t idle well, and patience was not his favorite virtue. Keeping watch while someone else whispered to candles? Torture. His muscles thrummed with the need to move, to stalk, to spring.

He wasn't reckless, though. The mask's power was an unknown, a genuine threat. And the girl… why was she worth this? Why were their shadowy backers burning resources and lives just for her? That, he truly didn't know.

First came supplying the girl with the mask. Then waiting, watching, for it to do something. Basil had kept an eye on her the whole time, tethering through the mask with constant scrying. It was monotonous, really. The girl never got the artifact to function, never tapped into it properly. Eventually, she was simply walking to her death.

But then Basil saw it—something extraordinary. Death should’ve claimed her. Instead, it was averted in a way that screamed unnatural. That single moment was enough for him to sound the alarm to their boss, and for their backers to change the order: capture her alive.

The complication was the Sun Inquisitors.

Damn zealots. Even Daniel was caught off guard that she was tangled up with them, given her shady background. But he didn’t waste brainpower on that contradiction. If anything, it only proved she was a woman wrapped in secrets.

What he did know was this: her bloodline was special. Rare enough to justify the obsession their backers had. Beyond that, Daniel’s own knowledge was frustratingly thin.

For now, none of that mattered. They had a mission.

A sharp crack rang out. Basil’s head jerked back, neck twisting at an unnatural angle as his eyes clouded over with ichor-black. The air above him warped, swirling like deep water pulled into a drain.

Connection achieved. Finally, they could...

The thought died instantly. The space above Basil kept twisting, faster, heavier.

That… wasn’t right. At all.

“What the fuck! BASIL!” Daniel lunged forward, shouting.

No response. Basil remained locked in his trance. Daniel tried to shake him out of it, but a violent burst of mana exploded outward, slamming into him like a battering ram and hurling him through the nearby trees.

He grit his teeth, bracing as the impact crushed wood and splinters all around him. His Aspect of the Hunt hardened his body, bolstering his resilience to superhuman levels. Even as the tree toppled under him, his defenses held.

But when he looked back, horror twisted his gut.

The air above Basil split wider. Something was emerging.

Something impossibly massive.

Through the warped space, Daniel caught only a glimpse: a paw. A single colossal paw with talons like spears. It slammed down in an instant. Basil’s body popped under it like a mosquito under a thumb.

Daniel’s skull pounded with a splitting headache, vision swimming as the gargantuan claw withdrew, taking Basil’s mangled corpse with it as if he were nothing more than grime stuck to its talons.

He shut his eyes immediately, forcing himself to breathe. Steady. In and out. Then he dove inward, pulling into his soul-space.

All four of his spirit organs were still intact. But each quivered, rattling as though struck by an earthquake.

He swallowed hard. Processing what he’d just seen would have to wait... if he ever dared to. For now, only one thought mattered:

Purge it. Purge it fast. Before the corruption had a chance to take root.

Hunters like Daniel were gifted a peculiar knack: the ability to steady themselves. On paper, it sounded laughably minor, what use is “calming yourself” when others are calling down fire, storms, or lightning? Only someone who’d never cultivated the Aspects would scoff like that.

For Daniel, it was the greatest gift he could have asked for. The number of times [Inner Peace] had saved his reckless hide from snapping, breaking, or going mad was absurd.

[Inner Peace]

The effect rippled through him instantly. In his soul world, the shuddering of his four organs began to ease, their spasms slowing with every heartbeat. The invasive vines coiled around them loosened, retracting until they returned to their proper places.

Daniel kept his eyes shut, breathing slow and even, refusing to surface for another minute. He didn’t need sight to sense the endless white that stretched across his inner world. They said that upon reaching Tier III, the blank horizon would change, shaped by all the cultivator had achieved and suffered, crystallizing into a unique form and from a unique ability.

That was still a dream far away. Right now, danger loomed too close.

He’d dodged the worst of it by quick thinking, but Basil hadn’t been so fortunate.

Basil…

Daniel clenched his jaw. He’d known him since the boss first recruited him... quiet, reserved, but dependable. They’d gone from strangers to partners, then comrades-in-arms. To think it would end like this…

But [Inner Peace] dulled the ache. That was its nature. It didn’t just calm, it also detached, sanding down sharp emotions until they felt far away. Numbness was the price for clarity.

So even after losing someone close, Daniel could keep his head. Rational and cold. More useful.

And right now, usefulness was required.

Basil must have botched the ritual somehow. Daniel hated thinking it, Basil had been too competent for rookie mistakes, but what else could explain a random, monstrous entity manifesting exactly where the ritual was cast? There were no coincidences like that.

Daniel pulled back from his soul world. His eyes snapped open, glowing crimson as his gaze locked toward the carriage. Toward her.

It all came back to that girl.

If she’d just died like she was supposed to, none of this would’ve spiraled out of control. No last-minute mission. No suicidal complication. No Basil smeared like an insect under some enity’s paw.

His grip tightened on the dagger. He wouldn’t turn back now. Mission or no mission, he could handle this on his own.

So he moved.

Through the foliage, silent as breath. His dagger gleamed faintly in his hand as he crept forward, step by careful step, closing in on the target.

He refused to glance at the spot where Basil had been crushed. Even the stray image of it made his temples throb. Better to push it down. Better not to think.

[Thrill of the Hunt]

The next ability ignited through him. If he had a target, every sense sharpened, every thought quickened. Focus doubled, agility doubled, reaction doubled. His body became quicker, his mind became deadlier.

He reached the carriage in near silence. The windows were shuttered on the far side; the door was locked tight.

He crouched behind it, dagger ready.

The hunt was on.

The Sun Inquisitors were still clashing with the boss.

Daniel didn’t like watching. The boss’s power terrified him, though he knew most of it came from some artifact. On their way here, they’d hit a handful of farming families who lived honestly on the town’s edge. Their strategy was brutal but effective: abduct them under artefact’s influence and use them as… distractions. Inquisitor’s attacks tonight lacked their usual burning ferocity; their restraint was obvious.

Once, the tactic might’ve left Daniel with a sour taste. Abducting innocents, tossing them in as bait, it sounded vile when you said it out loud. But after everything he’d seen? Death was hardly the worst ending a mortal could suffer. In a twisted way, it was almost mercy.

There were always uglier ways to go.

For now, all four Inquisitors were occupied. Only a single enforcer remained near the carriage: a woman in full plate, black-haired and blue-eyed. She hadn’t heard him arrive. Nobody ever heard a Hunter’s footsteps.

Daniel moved in. Smooth. Silent. Blade ready. He was two steps from her, a third away from splitting her throat before she could even blink…

SKREEEEEEEEE!

…when a piercing, foxlike cry ripped through the night.

The Inquisitor’s eyes snapped toward him immediately.

Shit. No time to hide.

Daniel’s gaze flicked upward. There, perched smugly on the carriage roof, was a small fox. It bared its teeth in something that might’ve been a grin.

Anger surged hot in his chest. A mocking smile… at him.

No time to deal with it. A blast of holy solar fire obliterated the spot he’d just been standing.

FUCK!

If that had hit him, he’d be ash. Hunters like him didn’t need a manual to know where they stood: squarely in the “evil” category. Going head-to-head with a Sun Inquisitor was suicide.

But he wouldn’t need to.

Rolling aside from another strike, Daniel yanked a small cube from his pocket. To the untrained eye, it looked like plain metal. In truth, it was a prison, one designed for a very specific inmate. A smear of blood already marked its surface, binding its target.

This was why he still had confidence, even after everything went to hell. The cube would do the real work. All he had to do was buy a little time, keep that bitch from bolting.

He flicked the cube under the carriage frame.

It hit the dirt and activated. A low, resonant hum vibrated the ground. Invisible energies snapped into place, centered on Julia inside.

Sixty seconds. Just hold for sixty seconds. Keep her contained until the artifact sealed the deal.

Daniel’s furious glare found the fox again. You little shit. I’ll turn that smug pelt into a fucking doormat. His eyes promised flaying knives.

The fox’s grin widened impossibly. Its eyes became slits of pure, malevolent glee, fixed not on him, but… downward? Toward the activated cube?

Then it hit him. A wave of wrongness. The same soul-deep, ice-water dread that had flooded him when that horrifying paw obliterated Basil. His soul space jolted, the recently calmed organs shuddering violently against the renewed psychic assault. The fox looked small, harmless… yet radiated an aura of profound, terrifying evilness.

What the fuck was this thing?!?