— — — — — —
After hearing Hozumi Kamio out, Tom finally understood.
Yes, she did have plenty of "descendants"… but they didn't really have anything to do with her directly. At most, they were distant relatives separated by who knew how many generations.
The magical world on Japan was… distorted.
There was an intense, almost obsessive reverence for yokai.
Many magical creatures and supernatural beings held extremely high status there. Even wizards with great power treated them with respect, sometimes even offering worship.
And among all those, the foxes yokai held a particularly special place.
Snow foxes, Hakuzōsu, Kuzunoha, Bunbuku Chagama…
As she listed them off, Hozumi unconsciously straightened her back, her tails swaying behind her with a pride that clearly ran in her blood.
All of them were fox yokai, and to varying degrees, they carried traces of the Tamamo-no-Mae lineage. You could say the Tamamo clan was the common ancestor of modern fox yokai.
Which meant Kamio Hozumi's "seniority" was ridiculously high.
Just like how Tom could suppress her with his own bloodline, she did the same to other fox yokai. Using that advantage, she leveraged their influence to enter Mahoutokoro and learn about this era's magic and knowledge.
Karma really did come full circle.
The little fox who had been throwing her weight around back home got completely put in her place the moment she arrived at Hogwarts.
Tom asked a few more questions about the era the Tamamo-no-Mae were born into, but unfortunately, Hozumi didn't know much.
Strictly speaking, she wasn't even ten years old when she was sealed. She had never left her clan's territory. Everything she knew came from overheard conversations among her elders.
Still, what little she described painted a vivid picture.
It had been a brilliant age. Wizards and beings who could rival gods… all kinds of extraordinary beings had existed in abundance.
As for what counted as a "god," Hozumi could only explain it in terms of her own kind.
If a Tamamo-no-Mae reached the level of a true nine-tailed fox, that was considered a genuine deity.
But when she was born, the strongest in her clan had been her mother… a seven-tailed fox.
That mostly confirmed Tom's idea that there were no gods, but definitely some beings had reached a level where they could practically perform miracles—so powerful they could be called deities.
But now, a question remained.
"Then why did you come to Hogwarts?" Tom leaned forward slightly, his gaze sharp. "And why did you set your sights on me?"
The nostalgia on Hozumi's face slowly faded. She lowered her eyes and let out a soft sigh, a trace of longing for her mother slipping into her voice.
"The Tamamo-no-Mae possess strong prophetic abilities. Predicting things like next year's rainfall or crop yields is the most basic level. My mother, back then… she foresaw the disaster that wiped out our era. That's why she sealed me away."
"I'm nowhere near as powerful as she was. But she once said my bloodline is even purer than hers. I have the potential to become an eight- or even nine-tailed fox."
"This summer, I suddenly had a dream. In it, a wizard used a basilisk to devour my flesh. And something—some kind of guidance—told me the one who could save me was in England."
"At first, I thought it meant Dumbledore. After all, he's the most powerful white wizard alive. But when I saw you, I understood. That feeling wasn't pointing me toward Dumbledore… it was pointing me toward you."
Her demeanor shifted in an instant.
Her eyes turned shy, her presence softening into that of a timid, innocent girl. She looked at him with quiet vulnerability.
"You bully me a lot… but the more you do, the more certain I am that you're the one who can protect me."
Tom simply listened, completely unmoved by her performance.
Her breathing remained steady. The detection magic he'd cast silently confirmed it.
She wasn't lying. Every word came from the heart.
But that didn't mean he trusted her completely.
Women were natural actors. Fox yokai had an even worse reputation.
He'd believe half. The rest could wait.
Of course, believing her was one thing.
Agreeing to help her was another.
"You're overthinking it, little fox." Tom smiled faintly. "Even if you think I could protect you, why would I help?"
"I can give you lots of little foxes," Hozumi said seriously.
"...."
The sheer absurdity of that statement nearly knocked Tom off balance.
"I'm the purest-blooded Tamamo-no-Mae. Our children would be the most powerful lineage in the world. We might even create an entirely new race."
"…Though we'll have to wait a bit," she added thoughtfully. "I need to fully grow my fifth tail before I can have babies."
As she spoke, she gently placed a hand over her flat stomach, her eyes soft with something dangerously close to maternal warmth.
Tom just stared at her.
What the hell are you even imagining right now?
How did this jump straight to having kids—and starting a whole new species?
"Hold on. Who said I'm having fox children with you? Actually, why would they even be foxes?" Tom felt like his brain was short-circuiting.
Hozumi's expression changed instantly.
Her watery eyes widened, mist gathering at the edges, as if she'd just been heartlessly abandoned.
"You've already touched my tail, and now you're trying to deny it?"
"…Touching your tail means I have to have kids with you?" Tom shot back. "Do you have any idea how many tails I've touched? Unicorns, pandas, snakes, phoenixes... what haven't I touched?"
"That's different!" Hozumi practically jumped in place, her tails flailing wildly behind her. "For foxes, our tails are the most private, most intimate part of our bodies. If you touch them, you have to take responsibility!"
"To me, it's all the same." Tom's expression suddenly turned odd.
"Touching a tail means I have to pay with countless descendants? Do you really think I'm that cheap?"
"Stop dreaming. I'll observe you first. And if I find out you've lied to me…" His voice dipped, calm but sharp. "Forget having children. I'll make sure the Tamamo-no-Mae vanish from this world completely."
The conversation ended on a sour note.
Hozumi left looking like she was on the verge of tears. Of course, most of it was an act.
The moment she stepped out of the classroom, that pitiful expression vanished without a trace, replaced by a bright, satisfied smile.
Didn't get her tail touched today. Win!
…Wait.
She shook her head quickly. Why was she even happy about that?
What really mattered was that Tom hadn't outright rejected her. He'd put her on a "probation period." That was the best news she could have hoped for.
As for having little foxes…
A flicker of urgency flashed in her eyes.
She was completely serious about that part. No teasing, no flirting.
She was the last Tamamo-no-Mae in the world. Her parents had sealed her away not just to protect her, but to preserve a spark for their entire lineage.
She couldn't live just for herself. She had to restore the Tamamo-no-Mae to prosperity. No, she had to make them greater than ever before.
...
Meanwhile, Tom sat alone in the room, tapping his fingers lightly against the table, a faint frown on his face.
Hozumi's description of that old era kept echoing in his mind, stirring a growing sense of curiosity.
Maybe… Merlin, the Quetzalcoatl, those legendary beings…
Maybe they all came from that brilliant age.
If he wanted more answers, there were only two options.
First, capture Quetzalcoatl and interrogate it directly.
Second…
Tom paused.
No, he hadn't tried that yet.
So far, the System had only ever summoned teachers from the current era. But what about beings from previous ages?
The system answered quickly.
Yes.
As long as he had enough achievement points and a high enough system level, it didn't matter if it was a teacher from a past era… or even from another dimension. It could summon them.
That reassured Tom.
[Achievement Points: 6850]
Just a little more.
Another 150 points, and he could summon a Wizard King.
Normally he needed 10,000 points, but with the 30% off he had, he would only need 7,000 points
---
During Charms class, Daphne's hands were especially restless.
Her slender fingers kept poking at Tom's arm, over and over, her bright eyes fixed on him, full of playful pleading.
At the front, Professor Flitwick stood among a pile of magical props, waving his wand enthusiastically as he explained the different casting rhythms and effects of charged spells.
But the young witch's attention was nowhere near the lesson.
"Tom, Tom…"
"Just tell me already, what's the first task?" Daphne coaxed. "You don't want me embarrassing you in the first task, do you?"
Beside her, Hermione had quietly perked up, ears practically tuned in. Sure, leaking information was shameful… but she wasn't a participant. Listening as gossip should be fine, right?
Tom simply shook his head.
No matter how Daphne coaxed, wheedled, or acted cute for the entire class, he didn't reveal a single thing.
Now Hermione was genuinely surprised—and uneasy.
After class, she hurried forward and grabbed Daphne, who was about to chase after Tom again.
"Hermione, what are you doing?" Daphne tried to shake her off, lips already pouting. "I don't believe he can keep his mouth shut forever. If I keep at it, he'll tell me eventually!"
"Daphne… I have a bad feeling about this."
Hermione deliberately slowed her pace, pulling Daphne with her until Tom was far enough ahead. She knew just how sharp his hearing was.
Looking at Daphne's sulking face, Hermione lowered her voice.
"When has Tom ever refused you? Even your most ridiculous requests—he always tries to satisfy them. But this time, he clearly doesn't want to say anything at all."
"I think… he's planning something."
There was a quiet certainty in her tone.
Daphne froze.
Thinking back on Tom's long list of past "incidents," she suddenly realized how serious this might be.
"…No way. Is it too late for me to withdraw?"
Hermione gave her a look full of sympathy.
Withdraw?
Not a chance.
The doors were welded shut. No one was getting off this ride.
Daphne read the answer in her eyes and immediately panicked. Gathering up her robes, she hurried after the boy who was already disappearing into the distance.
"Tom, wait! Wait for me!"
...
..
News that the first task would begin next weekend spread like wildfire. When people found out Tom was the one designing it, the initial reaction was shock.
Then, after a moment's thought, it started to make sense.
The Astra Abyssum Guild was both sponsor and organizer of the tournament this time. As a shareholder, Tom technically had every right to be involved.
No one doubted his ability.
They just seriously doubted his integrity.
Would he really not leak information? Not cheat?
After all, two of his girlfriends were competing. And that cute girl from the magical academy had been sticking close to him lately too. Rumor had it she'd even been bullied into tears that morning.
At dinner, everyone was busy speculating about the first task, pooling whatever scraps of information they had in hopes of finding a clue.
"I think it's probably going to be in the Forbidden Forest," Harry said excitedly. "Hagrid's been running back and forth there nonstop lately. He looks exhausted every day."
For once, Harry got to sit back and enjoy the drama instead of being dragged into it. He had no idea just how much trouble he'd unknowingly avoided.
But if anyone else should be thanking Tom, it was Cedric.
In the original timeline, he'd died for no reason at all, taken out instantly by Peter Pettigrew's Killing Curse.
Not far away, Hermione overheard Harry and Ron's discussion and looked up from her meal to object. "That has nothing to do with the first task. Hagrid's busy because Hogwarts is expanding. They need to clear out part of the Forbidden Forest."
"Hogwarts is expanding?" The surrounding students were instantly intrigued.
Dean Thomas leaned forward eagerly. "Granger, is that confirmed? What are they building? Another castle?"
"No." Hermione shook her head. "Tom mentioned they're planning to build several gardens and some hot springs. He came up with the idea after returning from Beauxbatons, and the headmaster agreed."
That immediately shifted everyone's attention.
Compared to the competition, changes to the school itself felt much more relevant.
.
.
.