Chapter 385: Episode 383: How do we fix this?

Little Fedor giggled, his tiny hands clutching the glowing red gemstone on his chest, utterly delighted by the cosmic playground he had just accidentally manifested.

But the attention span of a one-month-old infant was as fleeting as a passing breeze.

Suddenly, Fedor’s tiny stomach gave a soft, demanding rumble. The profound joy of creating a magical woodland was instantly overridden by a much more primal, urgent biological need.

His bright, chiming giggles abruptly hitched. His tiny face scrunched up, his white fox ears flattening against his red locks, and he let out a sharp, piercing wail of sheer infant hunger.

The sound was like a massive pane of tempered glass violently shattering.

The absolute second the Kitsune heir lost his focus, the colossal twilight illusion violently collapsed. The glittering silver stars, the massive moon, and the ancient, fiery-leaved trees completely dissolved into a shower of fading, emerald-green sparks.

The heavy, cold drafts and the familiar, smoky scent of the Iron-Wood Manor rushed back in an instant. The grand hall returned, the roaring stone hearths and the long feasting tables abruptly materializing around them as if they had never left.

Axel, who had been holding a glowing red autumn leaf, suddenly found himself grasping nothing but empty winter air. The wolf pup blinked, looking down at his empty hands in profound confusion.

The Vanguard Warlords visibly staggered, their Warlord-tier equilibrium violently thrown off by the instantaneous sensory whiplash. Torian shook his massive head, Kaelen blinked his icy blue eyes rapidly, and Caspian literally swayed on his feet, his aquatic balance momentarily disrupted.

“Oh my,” Zarek breathed, his golden eyes wide as he stared at the screaming infant in his Matriarch’s arms.

Roxy didn’t have a single second to process the cosmic anomaly that had just occurred. Motherly instinct completely overrode the shock of the shattered reality. Fedor was crying, his little face turning a blotchy red as he demanded his immediate sustenance.

“Okay, okay, my sweet boy, I’ve got you,” Roxy soothed, immediately turning away from the stunned crowd of Alphas.

She hurried over to a plush, high-backed velvet armchair positioned near the roaring hearth. Ignoring the chaos and the bewildered murmurs of the children recovering from the illusion, Roxy sat down, swiftly unlacing the front of her crimson silk gown and guiding the thrashing infant to her breast.

Fedor latched instantly. His frantic, ear-splitting wails ceased immediately, replaced by soft, rhythmic, and incredibly satisfied little gulps.

Roxy let out a long, heavy exhale, her transmigrated heart finally slowing its frantic hammering. She leaned her head back against the velvet chair for a moment, letting the blistering heat of the fire warm her skin.

When she opened her brilliant green eyes and looked down, her breath caught softly in her throat.

Fedor was feeding quietly, but he wasn’t asleep. The tiny Kitsune heir was staring up at her. His stunning, impossible olive-green eyes—that perfect, glitching blend of her soul and the Trickster’s magic—were completely locked onto her face.

He looked at her with an expression of such profound, unadulterated awe. It wasn’t just the unfocused gaze of a newborn; it was the intense, entirely conscious reverence of a magical being looking at its creator. He watched her as if she were the very sun that kept his universe from freezing over. His tiny, pale hand reached up, his incredibly soft fingers resting gently against the bare skin of her chest, anchoring himself to her warmth.

Roxy smiled, a fierce, overwhelming wave of protective love washing over her. She gently stroked his fiery red hair, entirely captivated by the quiet, beautiful moment.

But the quiet was quickly broken by the heavy, approaching footsteps of the Alpha Kings.

Zarek, Torian, Kaelen, and Caspian formed a massive, imposing semi-circle around the velvet armchair. They completely ignored the rest of the presentation ceremony happening across the hall, their eyes fixed entirely on the tiny, feeding infant.

“I cannot believe what I just experienced,” Caspian murmured, his striking aquatic eyes still wide with lingering shock. “That wasn’t a simple parlor trick. That was a fully immersive domain. I could literally feel the humidity of the autumn air against my skin.”

“And he bypassed our natural defenses entirely,” Kaelen added, his stoic voice laced with a rare, profound disbelief. The Northern King crossed his massive arms, analyzing the tactical implications. “An Alpha’s aura is designed to automatically reject hostile magic. But because his core is tied to yours, Roxy, our beasts did not register the illusion as a threat until we were already completely submerged in it.”

Torian let out a booming, disbelieving laugh, running a massive hand through his hair. “He is only a child! He has been breathing the air of this world for exactly one month, and he is already this powerful! He has the Trickster’s blood and the Matriarch’s unyielding soul. When he grows up, the continent will absolutely bow to him.”

Zarek stood tall, his broad chest swelling with an undeniable, fierce draconic pride. “He is a Prince. He is already proving to the heavens that he cannot be constrained by their pathetic rules.”

While the Warlords marveled at the sheer, apocalyptic combat potential of their newborn son, Roxy’s mind violently spiraled in the exact opposite direction.

She stared down at Fedor, who was still looking at her with those innocent, awe-filled olive-green eyes.

He is a baby, Roxy thought, a sudden, cold spike of sheer panic piercing through her maternal pride. A literal infant with the power to rewrite reality on a whim.

“This is going to be a disaster,” Roxy whispered, her eyes widening in horror.

Torian blinked, his booming laugh cutting off. “What? My Queen, what is the matter? It is a magnificent display of strength!”

“It is a catastrophic liability, Torian!” Roxy argued, looking up at her mates. “He is a toddler! He has absolutely no concept of restraint, consequence, or danger! What happens in a year when I refuse to give him a honey-pastry, and he throws a tantrum? Is he going to plunge the entire Manor into an illusion of a burning hellscape?”

The Alphas paused, the horrifying logistical reality of her words slowly dawning on them.

“What if he thinks it’s funny?” Roxy continued, her panic rising as she adjusted Fedor in her arms. “What if he starts putting the perimeter guards into illusions as a way to have fun? What if he accidentally traps Axel and Onyx in a nightmare and forgets how to turn it off because he gets distracted by a butterfly?!”

Zarek stepped forward, his massive hand resting gently on her shoulder. “Roxy, breathe. You should not worry. We are his fathers. We will train him. He is an Alpha; his core will naturally learn discipline.”

“He is one month old, Zarek!” Roxy shot back, her green eyes flashing. “He can’t even hold his own head up properly! He cannot learn magical discipline right now. We are walking on a razor’s edge. If Abaddon senses these massive magical spikes, it will only draw the Demon King’s attention faster.”

Kaelen frowned, his icy blue eyes darkening. “She is right. The sheer output of that illusion was like lighting a beacon fire in the dark. We cannot have him accidentally broadcasting his location to the heavens every time he giggles.”

“But we cannot simply suppress his core,” Caspian pointed out gently. “If we forcefully bind his magic, it could permanently damage his transmigrated biology.”

Roxy pressed her lips into a tight, thin line. She looked down at Fedor, who had finally finished feeding and had drifted back into a heavy, peaceful sleep, completely unaware of the cosmic logistical nightmare he had just caused.

There was only one beastman in the entire Iron-Wood who truly understood the complex, intricate mechanics of Kitsune magic. If Ren wasn’t here to teach his son how to control the illusions, they needed the next best thing.

Roxy looked up, scanning the crowded, recovering grand hall.

“Kaito!” Roxy called out, her voice slicing clearly through the murmurs of the Vanguard pack.

Near the eastern feasting tables, a tall, striking figure immediately turned. Kaito, Ren’s fiercely loyal right-hand man, had been standing quietly on the periphery of the presentation ceremony. He wore deep crimson leathers in honor of his fallen King, his silver fox ears twitching at the sound of the Matriarch’s voice. His usually sharp, mischievous features were still heavily shadowed by grief, but his devotion to the Fox heir was absolute.

Kaito moved with the silent, fluid grace of a high-tier predator, seamlessly parting the crowd until he stood respectfully before Roxy’s velvet armchair. He dropped into a deep, flawless bow.

“My Queen,” Kaito greeted, his voice smooth and deeply respectful. He glanced at the Alpha Kings before his gaze softened entirely, resting on the sleeping infant in her arms. “I felt the illusion. It was… breathtaking. It tasted exactly like him.”

“It was beautiful, Kaito,” Roxy agreed softly, though the fierce line of her jaw remained tight with worry. She gestured to the red gemstone resting on Fedor’s chest. “But it is also entirely unfiltered. He is a baby holding a god-tier amplifier, and he doesn’t know how to turn it off.”

Roxy looked directly into the silver eyes of the Fox King’s right hand.

“There is an issue,” Roxy stated firmly. “How do we fix this?”

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