Shaki

Until today. Greed knows no fear of the gods.

A heavy cart, covered in black tarpaulin, rolled into the vast concentration camp for slaves known as "Black Iron," surrounded by a tall wooden wall topped with spikes. Mud flew from beneath the heavy wheels as a gang of mercenary hunters halted the horses at the main gate. The camp guards and emaciated beast-children, busy hauling heavy stones, froze in place.

One of the mercenaries let out a vile laugh as he ripped off the thick tarpaulin. Beneath it was a heavy cage made of enchanted iron that blocked magic. Inside, curled up with his knees to his chest, sat someone no one here expected to see.

It was Shaki — a young nine-tailed fox Yokai. He was only eighteen years old, having just recently appeared in this world, and he still didn’t know how cruel mortals could be. His appearance sharply contrasted with the gray dirt of the camp: silky white hair, neat white ears with soft pink fur inside, and nine magnificent, fluffy snow-white tails that he tried to use to shield himself from the cold and prying eyes. In the dim light of the cage, two pure golden-yellow eyes glimmered in fear. Bruises from rough ropes were already visible on his delicate skin.

— Look who we caught at the border of the sacred grove! — the bandit leader shouted, spitting on the ground with gusto — A real nine-tailed pup! A living Yokai! At a closed auction in the capital, counts will pay a fortune for this beauty. Lock him up in the most secure solitary cell and don’t take your eyes off him! If he dies or scratches his skin — I’ll skin you alive!

The cart rumbled deeper into the camp. Kira, shivering from the chill of October rain, clutched her tails tighter to herself, looking through the iron bars at the nightmare surrounding her with confusion and calmness...

They brought Kira's cage to her dungeon; they carried it inside and did not take her out so she wouldn't cast any spells; you were the guard assigned to watch over the door to her dungeon.