Chapter 117: Shameless Fox And Shards Of Hope

Cyrus’s expression grew distant, his fingers still tangled in Kane’s hair.

"After retrieving it from Madam Xiu, I placed the Screaming Shard in Veyr Corp’s deepest high-security containment vault."

Kane’s fox ears swiveled forward with sharp attention.

"Vault Seven, to be precise. It’s thirty floors below street level, behind enchanted barriers that could contain a rogue deity."

"Is it safe there?" Kane asked, unease prickling through his voice.

The memory of his ransacked apartment flashed through his mind—spirits desperate enough to tear apart his home for a single shard.

"Completely." Cyrus’s tone carried absolute certainty.

"The vault system requires my biometric authorization, three separate magical keys, and a blood seal to access. Even if someone breached the building’s defenses, they’d need to go through me personally."

Kane’s tail curled tighter around his waist, nervous energy crackling through his limbs.

"I could bring you there if you like." Cyrus’s fingers resumed their gentle stroking.

"Though I warn you—the containment protocols are extensive. The shard is isolated in a null-magic chamber specifically designed to prevent any interaction with other artifacts.

Kane considered the offer, his brow furrowing as he weighed the possibilities.

What would seeing the Screaming Shard accomplish? He wasn’t a researcher like Rina and couldn’t analyze its properties or understand its arcane structure. The shard sat locked away, useless to him.

"I trust you," Kane murmured finally. "If you say it’s secure, then it’s secure."

Cyrus’s fingers paused in their gentle motion, his sharp gaze catching the troubled expression that flickered across Kane’s features.

"What are you actually thinking?" Cyrus asked, his voice soft but probing. "That pout suggests your mind is elsewhere entirely."

Kane’s tail twitched with frustration, his thoughts spiraling through possibilities and dead ends.

"I keep wondering..." Kane’s voice trailed off, then strengthened with determination.

"The Whispering Shard suppresses spirit energy. The Screaming Shard amplifies it. Both are fragments of something larger, something ancient."

He shifted against Cyrus’s thigh, looking up with desperate hope.

"If there are more shards out there, if they each have different properties..." Kane’s fox ears drooped slightly.

"What if there’s one that could heal? Something that could fix what’s happening to Rina?"

Cyrus’s expression grew thoughtful, his crimson eyes reflecting the weight of Kane’s question.

"An intriguing theory," he said slowly. "Ancient artifacts of that magnitude were rarely created with only two fragments."

Kane sat up straighter, hope flickering in his amber gaze.

"The texts Madam Xiu referenced mentioned divine breath crystallized into fragments. Gods don’t typically limit themselves to pairs—they favor completeness and balance."

"So there could be others," Kane pressed. "A healing shard, maybe something that reverses magical corruption?"

Cyrus’s expression grew cautious, his protective instincts warring with Kane’s desperate optimism.

"Possibly. But Kane..." Cyrus’s voice carried a warning edge.

"If such artifacts exist, they would be beyond rare. Hidden, heavily guarded, or lost entirely. The kind of treasure that starts wars between realms."

Kane’s tail lashed with frustration.

"We have to try something. Rina has two weeks before she fragments completely."

"I know." Cyrus pulled Kane closer, his voice gentling.

"But rushing blindly into artifact hunting could make things worse. We need information first—reliable sources, not desperate speculation."

Kane knew Cyrus would say that. Cyrus was right, of course—always calm and calculated while Kane’s emotions ran wild.

But desperation clawed at Kane’s chest, the image of Rina fragmenting into nothing burning behind his eyes.

If anyone could help her now, it would be Cyrus.

Kane’s fox ears drooped dramatically, his amber eyes growing impossibly wide as he gazed up at Cyrus with practiced innocence.

"But Cyrus..." Kane’s voice took on a honeyed, pleading tone.

"You’re the great Cyrus Veyr Drakhal. CEO of a multi-billion dollar corporation, last of the black dragons, master of ancient magic."

He shifted to face Cyrus fully, placing his hands on Cyrus’s chest with theatrical desperation.

"You found the Midnight Chalice when everyone said it was impossible. You have resources spanning continents, connections in every realm."

Kane’s tail wagged behind him, his expression growing more earnest.

"And together? We’re unstoppable. Your power, your influence, your ancient knowledge..." Kane’s voice dropped to an adoring whisper.

"Combined with my brilliant investigative mind and devastating charm?"

He batted his eyelashes shamelessly.

"We could find any artifact. Save Rina. Probably solve world hunger while we’re at it."

Cyrus’s jaw tightened, his resolve wavering under Kane’s assault of manufactured cuteness. His hands gripped Kane’s waist, torn between pulling him closer and pushing him away.

"Kane, no." Cyrus’s voice strained with the effort of resistance.

"Artifact hunting nearly got you killed last time. The guardian, the collapsing temple—"

"But you saved me," Kane interrupted, his voice soft and trusting. "You always save me."

Kane leaned closer, his fox ears trembling with feigned vulnerability.

"Please? For Rina?"

Cyrus closed his eyes, recognizing the manipulation but feeling his defenses crumble anyway.

"You’re absolutely shameless," he muttered.

"Is that a yes?"

Cyrus said nothing, but his head dipped in a slow, resigned nod.

Kane’s face lit up with triumph, and he pressed a quick kiss to Cyrus’s cheek as a reward.

The gesture earned him a reluctant grin from the dragon, who shook his head at his weakness.

"However," Cyrus said, his voice regaining some authority, "we would need a solid lead for such an artifact—if it even exists. I won’t have you chasing shadows."

Kane’s expression grew thoughtful, his fox ears twitching as he considered their options. Who could possibly know about ancient crystal fragments scattered across realms?

Madam Xiu came to mind first—the Pixiu spirit had intimate knowledge of lost artifacts and maintained networks spanning continents. But her last challenge had been deliberate and calculated.

Would she help freely, or demand another impossible task?

Then there was Bob Holloway. The human had surprised them with his knowledge of the Midnight Chalice’s location, revealing depths beneath his golden retriever exterior. His father’s collection might contain references to other fragments.

Finally, Mochi. The cat spirit’s black market connections ran deep, and his information network often uncovered what official channels missed. Plus, he was easy to bribe.

Kane’s tail curled thoughtfully around his waist as he weighed each possibility.