Demon Queened (Remastered) - Chapter 4 - Ocean's Bounty

Devilla

My flight to the ocean was exhilarating at first. I flew as fast as I could, utilizing arcane magic to shield myself from the wind as I shot through the skies. I’m not exactly sure what my top speed was. I think it’s safe to say that I failed to break the sound barrier, since there was no sonic boom, but the landscape did turn somewhat blurry beneath me. That was saying something, too, considering how sharp my eyesight seemed to be. When I slowed down over a forest, I could see the individual leaves on the trees, despite being easily fifty feet above them.

Sadly, my enthusiasm did not last. Flight had always been part of my life as Devilla, after all, and while Jacob’s memories had temporarily rekindled excitement and fear within me, it seemed to be wearing off. Diving after Abigail had already forced me to confront my fear, after all, and one could only experiment with their capabilities for so long before they started to grow bored. Eventually, I stopped even trying to focus on speed, and shifted my air-resistance spell for an illusion that would project the image of an empty sky beneath. So long as I kept it running in the back of my mind, I could afford to let my thoughts wander a little without fear of being spotted from below.

Unfortunately for me, my thoughts kept wandering to the same place, no matter how hard I tried to redirect them. I tried to focus on my future plans, or even my past life, but my mind kept returning to the same predicament—what was I going to tell Abigail when I got back? 

I definitely didn’t want to tell her that this world mirrored an erotic game from my last life. It might give her an existential crisis. I also wanted to avoid telling her the exact nature of my past life, if I could avoid it. Humans weren’t precisely regarded with fondness among us demons, after all, and men were literally a foreign concept. Telling her that I wanted to let the Heroine incite a rebellion even as I fled the Tower also seemed like a bad move. It was for the sake of my people, truly, but how could I expect her to understand that without first getting into Tower Conquest and all the other things I wanted to avoid?

So where did that leave me? If I stuck only to the safest bits of information—keeping vague about the nature of my past life memories and refusing to talk about my plans for the future—she’d likely still end up leaving me. She certainly wouldn’t trust me, even if she stayed. I’d lose any chance I had of gaining a proper friendship… not that I’d ever truly expected that. I wasn’t really worthy of it, in any case. Not when I only wanted to tell her for my own sake. So that I could feel better. So that I could perhaps have a friend. It wouldn’t actually do Abigail any good to know. If anything, it would weigh her down… and yet I still wanted to tell her.

I suppose that meant I truly was still the same selfish brat I’d always been, deep down. Wanting to keep a companion who didn’t even like me. Wishing to tell her things that would only bring her distress. If people thought Abigail was too close to me, it might even cause her trouble after the coup. If I really cared about her, it would surely be best to simply let her leave. Yet, even knowing that her hatred was inevitable, that my plan could only ever lead to her despisement, I still didn’t want to prematurely sever our relationship. 

In the end, I failed to come to a decision. Instead, I got so lost in my own head that I flew straight past the beach and over the ocean without even realizing it. I had to spend five minutes flying back towards shore.

When I had again reached the beach, I was faced with a new conundrum. I was wearing heels, like I always did. Black ones, with three inches of heel and open toes that showed off my matching nails. My feet never grew tired or hurt, and I could always fly if I were truly in a rush, so I never wore flats. It was hardly ever a problem. Hardly being the keyword, because I’d never before needed to land on a beach absolutely littered with seashells.

If I had been walking, I could have carefully made my way through what little space wasn’t covered in shells, or perhaps crushed them under my heels through sheer force. Trying to land upon such an uneven surface, however, was a whole other matter. I would be off-balance from the start and would likely fall before I had a chance to find proper footing.

In the end, I had little choice but to fly even further ashore, landing upon solid ground and making my way back down the beach. I was perhaps a touch annoyed at the detour, enough to stomp my way through the sand instead of daintily picking my way across it, until at last came to a stop near the shore.

“Well then,” I murmured to myself, even as the cold water of the sea washed over my ankles. “What’s the best way of doing this…?” The most traditional way of getting salt from the ocean would be to separate some water from the sea and then… boil it, I suppose? Jacob’s knowledge of the matter was frustratingly vague, as were the associated memories. I imagined I’d be able to recall more if I were to properly ruminate on the matter, but it seemed rather pointless—I hadn’t brought any containers to boil the water in, in any case. In which case, why not take a more direct approach? Rather than getting rid of the water, I decided to simply focus on the salt.

First, I spread my magic power through the ocean before me, saturating my immediate surroundings. Then, when I’d suffused a decently-sized patch of ocean with my magic, I focused on isolating the salt. Finally, in much the same manner as I might pull a ball of dirt from the ground, I drew the salt directly from the water and into the open air.

Water surged upward in response to my magic, drawn from the simple force of so much salt rising up from it. A moment later, the water crashed back into the ocean, leaving the pure white crystals behind. A sight almost as beautiful as it was tasty—at least in my eyes.

Stretching a hand toward the salt, I curled a finger toward myself in a gesture to come hither. It was a completely unnecessary piece of showmanship, lacking even an audience to impress, but I just couldn’t resist adding a little flair to what was otherwise a simple process. My casting quickly drew the salt toward me, and soon I had a veritable cloud of it above my head. From there, I simply opened up my pouch, pointed imperiously toward its opening, and began to funnel the salt directly inside.

Of course, a singular pouch could only carry so much salt under normal circumstances. The amount I conjured certainly seemed far beyond the limits of the fist-sized pouch I carried. Despite that, I had no concerns whatsoever about being unable to fit as much as I wanted inside. Even as more and more salt entered the pouch, it refused to bulge or even slightly inflate. That was the nature of the holy item I had taken from the treasury, known as the ‘Empty Bag.’ It  rejected sapient creatures, and would not allow for anything much larger than a human to fit through its opening in one piece, but beyond that? It could hold almost anything. On top of that, no matter how much you stuffed it, it would always look empty. And, much like the holy sword Luci had brought down alongside it, it couldn’t be lifted by anyone but its current owner.So long as that owner remained among the living, at least.

Pushing negative thoughts aside, I waited for the ocean to lap against me and recede so I could repeat the process all over again. I’d just desalinated a large portion of the water, after all, and there was little point in repeating my extraction process until more salt suffused it. Soon enough time had passed, and I channeled another cloud of white crystals into my bag.

Unfortunately, though my method was functional, it was also costly in terms of magic power. Though I’d never put so much as a dent in my reserves up until this day, even I was beginning to feel drained after everything I’d done. Of course, even if I had used up a large portion of my magic power, I was certain that I still possessed more than most people had when full, so I wasn’t too concerned.

Still, it was clear that a change in methods would be needed if I wished to gather enough salt for the entire Tower. For my third attempt, I mixed up my mental image a little bit. Instead of saturating the water and coating each bit of salt individually with my power, I spread a solid sheet of magic underneath the ocean’s waves. I then focused on the idea of catching at the salt while letting water through, and lifted the sheet up and out of the water, curving the edges of my magic inward to avoid any spillage. A far more efficient strategy, as it turned out, since I could continuously dunk and raise the same sheet of power without letting it dissipate. It still took some energy to maintain, of course, but far less than it would have if I’d been starting anew with each attempt. The only downside was that I didn’t actually have enough control of the salt to pour it into my pouch, and instead had to pile it on the beach behind me. It was functional, though—if a little boring.

After an hour or so of this, I decided that the veritable mountain of salt behind me would do—for a first trip. I’d have to return later, if I wanted to keep the supply up.

“Maybe I should set up a teleportation circle?” I mused to myself. I could build a small stone structure and stick one inside it. Then I’d be able to travel here from the Tower and back again with ease. Of course, I’d never actually cast any form of spatial magic myself before. Nor did I know enough about teleportation circles to be sure whether it was safe to leave one out in the open. For all I knew, some random human would stumble across it and teleport themselves right into my bedroom. A messy situation, to be sure.

The final nail in the coffin, though, was the fact that I had no idea how to actually create a teleportation circle in the first place. The ones in the Tower all shared the same design, constructed out of iron twisted into a fancy pattern, but I was sure there had to be more to it than simply forming the right shape. I likely couldn’t ask about it without garnering suspicion, either. I’d always been famous for ignoring my lessons, after all, so the idea of me taking a sudden interest in spatial magic of all things… well, in the worst case, someone might connect it to my plans to flee the Tower. Even if the two plots weren’t exactly interconnected to begin with.

It seemed I would have to fly back and forth for the time being. Which, in turn, meant it might be a good idea to clear up some of the seashells. Some would no doubt come back, but it really was ridiculous how many of them there were at the moment. Perhaps this is what happened when there weren’t any tourists to pick things up? The beach did seem rather deserted, after all.

“I wonder if that means there’s living shellfish around as well,” I murmured to myself. Shellfish could be quite delicious, from my understanding. A clambake in particular sounded delightful—though that would require me to gather up some seaweed…I was pretty sure I could recall the recipe in its entirety if given time. Jacob must have seen it at some point, after all.

First, I collected the various seashells in preparation for my next visit, utilizing magic to lift them en masse from the beach and filter them into my pouch. Then, walking along the coast, I sent a wave of magic through the ground, feeling for spaces that weren’t earth. Where something had burrowed into the wet sand, in other words. From there, I used my hands to dig at the ground, even going so far as to get on my hands and knees. I didn’t pay much mind to getting dirty. I could always get the sand off of me with magic, afterwards—even if I was starting to feel a little drained after using up so much, it was just one simple spell.

My hard work was rewarded, in any case. I found many of the clams I wanted—and oysters as well, which I took eagerly. I remembered them being referred to as aphrodisiacs back on Earth, and while I was reasonably sure that was more myth than fact… well, I wasn’t exactly on Earth anymore, was I? I was on Solla. Considering the fact that this world mirrored an erotic game, I wasn’t willing to rule anything out.

I grabbed seaweed too, using an air shield to push the water away from me as I searched the shore. A search that turned up not only seaweed, but also mussels, stuck to a set of submerged stones.

I took them, of course. The Empty Bag kept everything inside it in stasis, so my seafood wouldn’t spoil no matter how long it took me to get through all of it. Every morsel would remain fresh and ready for me to feast upon.

In the end, I ended up with quite the collection of shellfish and seaweed. Mostly oysters, though. They must have been reproducing like crazy—which, of course, left me wondering again about the possibility of them being an aphrodisiac for real in this world. I would definitely have to try it at some point.

For now, though, I really had to get moving. I’d spent so long on seafood that the sky had started to darken. Even worse, heavy clouds had begun to fill the sky without my noticing. It seemed as if a storm was brewing, and if I didn’t get home soon I might just get caught in it.

***

Lightning flashed through the sky above me, and the clap of thunder that followed felt almost like a physical force. The storm had been going on for only a quarter of an hour, and yet I’d already been forced to magically block a few lightning bolts. I wasn’t sure what would happen if one were to actually strike me—perhaps nothing at all—but I really didn’t want to find out. 

To that end, I was currently hovering in midair, my wings flapping leisurely behind me as I studied the map Mifa had given me, in search of somewhere I could weather the storm. 

I was currently floating above a river, which forked in two different directions beneath me. The river was depicted on the map in detail, thankfully, and following either branch would eventually bring me to a village… at least in theory. The map was about twenty years out of date, and I couldn’t be sure that either settlement still existed.

Of course, for my purposes, it might actually be better if they were deserted. I was looking for shelter, after all, not civilization. That meant the one on the right—far from any major road—was probably the best to go to… unless it was actually still populated, in which case I might find myself in a tiny village with a distrust of strangers and no inn in sight.

By comparison, the village on the left was actually quite close to a major road. It likely saw visitors on the regular, and might even have an inn or tavern where I could wait out the weather without undue suspicion. It was more likely to be inhabited, but less likely to raise suspicion.

In the end, I chose to play it safe with the left side, heading towards the village of Derrin. Finding it was easy enough, at least. With my illusion spell mimicking the dark clouds above me, I was able to fly directly above it without fear of being spotted. 

Not that there was anyone about to observe me in the first place. The fields and streets were empty, and the windows carefully shuttered. Were the villagers expecting the storm to get so bad? Or was there simply nobody around to begin with? Though in that case, one had to wonder about the relatively orderly state of the fields.

I made my descent a little way from the village, choosing to land directly on the dirt road leading up to it. A road that looked ill-maintained and rarely traveled, judging by the occasional root that stretched across its surface. Another point toward it being deserted—though the fact that the buildings seemed to be in relatively good condition, from what I’d seen, was certainly a point in the other column.

Regardless, it was probably best to disguise myself. Not too much, mind you—it wasn’t as if some random villager would know what the Demon Queen looked like—but I could at least make the effort to change my hair color, since white was to my knowledge a rather rare and distinctive shade. To that end, I used another illusion, darkening my hair. If the disguise worked—assuming there was anyone about for it to work on—I would probably want to get my hands on some brown dye for the future. 

For now, I began to walk toward the village proper. There were two large stone walls around it, as I’d noticed from the air. One surrounded the fields and another encircled the buildings, both featuring a gate. Thankfully, said gates were fairly simple in their construction, likely built to keep wild animals at bay rather than human intruders. The locking mechanism for both was a simple latch, while the gates themselves had enough space between their bars for me to simply reach through and open them. 

Despite the simplicity of it all, I was actually a little nervous. Part of it was fear for my disguise; I didn’t know whether I could actually get away with just hiding my hair, or if my black nails and violet eyes would give me away. If it did work, then my plan to hide among humans was likely set. If it didn’t? I wasn’t sure what I’d do.

Above me, another bolt of lightning lit the sky. It was followed by a peal of thunder, so loud it made it seem as if the sky itself was being torn asunder. Then the rain began to fall: thick, heavy drops that struck the dirt road, turning the tightly packed earth into slick mud that caught at the heels of my shoes. The droplets also struck me, plastering the thin fabric of my clothing against my body.

I fought the urge to run, worried that my heels would lose their traction in the mud. I couldn’t use magic to get rid of the water pelting me either, not if I wanted to maintain my illusion of having brown hair: one couldn’t cast two spells at once, after all. As such, I had no choice but to walk through the village, peering at the various buildings and searching for a proper place to rest. 

Most of the structures I saw seemed to be residential, but one in particular boasted a second story. A sign hung in front of the door, depicting a bed and a mug of beer. Even without any lettering, I could recognize this as an inn. The windows were shuttered, and the door was closed, but a faint light could be seen emanating from the cracks in both. Proof positive of human civilization.

Some part of me knew that already: the houses were too well-maintained, and the fields seemed well-tended. There was no way for there not to be people here. And yet I had clung to the faint hope that I was wrong. The hope that I would not be forced to confront humanity just yet.

As a descendant of Luci, I was supposed to honor the words the Goddess left behind before going on her journey, and value the sanctity of all sapient life. Tradition held that I would only raise my hand to fight the Heroine herself—and only after she’d thoroughly soaked her soul in violence and grown too powerful for mere mortals to handle. All of which was rather easy to say, but… much harder to hold in one’s heart. 

In truth, I had always hated humans, at least so far as this life went. The demons were my people after all, and these naked apes their oppressors. They were the ones who’d taken our lands, destroyed our homes, and killed so many of our kind, labeling us as evil simply because we were different. Attempting to exterminate us, just because they could. For all the harm my aunts in heaven had caused, they hadn’t started the war, only enabled it.

Humans were the reason I had no mother in this life. The reason I had no dam. Their thirst for war, their conviction that they were in the right, and their thrice-damned belief that humanity could only rest when I and all of mine were wiped from this world—all of it made my blood boil. So I had to wonder—when I opened this door, would I see simple people on the other side? Or would I see enemies?

I wasn’t here to cause trouble. If I couldn’t control my temper, I would excuse myself before things went wrong. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that, considering my plans. I would hardly be able to live among humans if just seeing one turned my vision red.

Keeping that in mind, I took a deep breath and reached for the doorknob, swiftly pulling it open and revealing the humans on the other side. They were primarily gathered around a large wooden table, though a few people were off to the side, rolling dice atop half a barrel. Among them, I saw green and blue hair, paired with red and yellow eyes, as well as more mundane colors like brown and black. I didn’t see a single person with pure white hair, though, so it seemed that deciding to darken my tresses may have been the right decision.

The people themselves seemed to be the simple sort. Their clothes were much drabber than anything I’d seen in Dimona Tower, and looked to be made of rougher fabric. They also covered considerably more of their bodies, which might have had something to do with the way everyone was staring at me. I hadn’t really thought about it, but I was still wearing a backless, black, cropped halter top with an opening so large my boobs could quite literally tumble through it with just a little provocation. Not to mention my short red skirt, or the pair of black heels that showed off my ‘painted’ toenails. Rather than the furious rage I’d feared, I was suddenly worried that I might just be the one in danger of dying here—from embarrassment.

“Ah…” I started, then stopped. My throat felt as if there were a solid, dry lump caught in it, and no matter how I swallowed I couldn’t get it down. Everyone was staring at me. They weren't hostile glares, merely confused and curious looks, and yet they somehow had me pinned like a butterfly beneath glass.

“I, ah…” I coughed faintly, then thumped a fist against my chest as if trying to clear away some form of congestion. “I am Eena. I am on a… ah…” The world seemed to slow for a moment, as I realized that I’d failed to come up with a ready-made excuse for traveling without an escort or any luggage. Even a random adventurer would likely have companions, or at least a mission to draw them to this place. I didn’t even have ID. My mind started to race, but all I could come up with was a rather pathetic excuse. “I’m on a journey of self-improvement, seeking to increase my strength by living off the land. But, uh… the land got wet, so I thought I might come inside until it dried off?”

For a moment, the inn was utterly silent. Everyone simply stared at me, no doubt turning my words over and over in their heads. Which was honestly a better reception than I deserved, with a lie like that one. If I’d been in their shoes, I’d have tossed the stranger out on her ear.

“It must have been hard,” one of the men rumbled after a moment, sliding off his stool and onto his feet. He had broad shoulders and well-muscled arms—and rather thick green body hair. “A girl like you, out in the cold and rain. Why don’t I buy you a drink? Maybe some food. Get you nice and warmed up. We can have a conversation about what it’s like, living off the land.”

I’d never actually been hit on by a man, whether in this life or my former one, but it seemed that bit of good fortune had just run dry. Still, I hesitated, caught between relief that this green-haired man wasn’t pressing my story and irritation that he was only accepting it because he wanted to get into my pants. Being around humans meant being around men, though, some of whom would inevitably try to flirt with me. I’d simply have to shut them all down as firmly as I could.

“...Thank you, but I can buy my own food and drink.”

“You sure?” the man pressed, leaning forward a little. “Tasha runs a pricey establishment. You didn’t hear it from me, but I think she overvalues her stew.”

“I’m quite certain,” I confirmed, trying not to flinch. It was important to remain firm when turning someone down. Even relatively nice folks could prove shockingly stubborn if you gave them false hope.

“Well, if you’re that determined to pay for your own meal,” the gentleman grumbled, settling down upon his stool.

“I am,” I confirmed again, giving him a firm nod. Even though I absolutely wasn’t. In fact, I wasn’t actually sure how I was going to pay at all. It was embarrassing to admit, but I’d never actually handled my own funds during my life as Devilla. As a result, I’d all but forgotten that managing one’s own money was a thing to begin with. I had taken some coins from the treasury vault—alongside a few choice gems—but even if I could pass my demonic currency off as human coinage, there was still the small fact that the coins were stamped with my own likeness upon them. As for the gems, my brief walk through the village hadn’t led me to believe they had anything so niche as a jeweler, and trading a ruby—no matter how small—for a single bowl of soup seemed like a bad bargain.

“Alright, alright,” Sir Green Hair agreed, “but don’t come crying to me when your wallet runs empty at the end of the night, you hear?”

“Oh, let it go, Jackson!” A blue-haired woman cried out, slamming her fist against the table with enough force to send her mug rattling—or at least I thought that was a mug? It appeared to be made of leather, held together by tar. A blackjack, perhaps? I’d never seen one before, but I’d read about them during my previous life as part of a late-night wiki dive. Jacob had spent a considerable amount of time running down rabbit holes of information, leading to scattered but relatively accurate information.

…Well, hopefully accurate, at any rate. It wasn’t as if I could fact check now.

“After three rejections, even you should be able to get it through your thick skull that she isn’t interested,” the woman continued, grabbing ahold of her mug and taking a long swig before slamming the leather vessel back down upon the table. “Besides, I think the local girls you’re already sleeping with might have a few objections to you hounding a stranger.”

“I’m not mad,” volunteered a blonde, sitting on Jackson’s left. “But I do think I’ll be spending a little more time with Thomas and Ashton than I normally do, if you catch my drift.”

“And I’ll be spending extra time with Dina,” added the girl sitting across from the unfortunate Jackson. She had purple hair, blue eyes, and crossed arms. While the first girl’s face was a careful mask of neutrality, this one was scowling rather fiercely in Jackson’s direction.

“W-wait a minute,” Jackson stammered, holding up his hands in a defensive gesture. “You don’t think I actually meant anything by all that, do you? I was just trying to be a gentleman. She’s not even my type! You know I prefer a woman with more vibrant hair colors!”

“You’re soaked,” Miss Blonde commented, eyeing me up and down. “Between that and the fact that you seem to be missing about half your clothes, you must be pretty chilled.”

“Yeah,” Miss Purple Hair added. “Why don’t you take a seat at the table and order up some stew? I think Jackson was about to offer up his stool.”

“Like hell I was!” Jackson protested. “There’s an empty seat right next to me!”

“That’s funny,” murmured the blonde. “Do you see any empty stools on this side of the table, Lissera?”

“No, I don’t. In fact, I’m pretty sure the only empty seats are the ones next to the kitchen. And we wouldn’t want to make this poor, soaking-wet woman walk all the way down there, now would we Monica?”

Both girls turned their eyes toward Jackson as they spoke. Lissera was glaring daggers, but it was the look on Monica’s face that actually had shivers running down my spine. She had a faint smile on her lips, as if she were mildly amused by the situation, but her gaze was set to a temperature best reserved for freezers.

 “…Show a little concern for a stranger, and suddenly you’re out in the cold,” Jackson muttered, standing. His voice was pitched low, and his words were mumbled, likely not even loud enough for the other girls to hear despite their position right next to him. My ears picked it up all the same, though, if only because I was listening for it. Despite his anger, his mutterings didn’t seem like the sort that would cause me any trouble. Instead, he was obediently trudging toward the end of the table.

Of course, that left me standing at the front of the room with about a dozen stares focused in my direction.

“...Well?” Monica asked after a moment, gesturing to the now-vacated stool between her and Lissera. The faint smile was still on her lips, but now the amusement was actually reflected in her eyes. “Are you going to take a seat or not?”

“Hold on,” Lissera protested, standing up from her seat and walking toward me. I stood stock-still as she approached, eyeing her warily. I hoped she wasn’t planning to blame me for this situation. I didn’t think I’d done anything to incite Jackson’s behavior, but if she kicked up a fuss it was entirely possible that the other villagers would take her side in the matter.

A prickly sensation ran across my entire body for a moment, and I realized with a start the woman’s magic was washing over me. It didn’t feel very powerful; nothing I couldn’t defend against, at the very least. But if I wished to fight back directly, I would have to drop the illusion on my hair. Unless I wanted to incapacitate the caster through more physical methods—but I had the feeling that wouldn’t go over too well with the other villagers.

The prickling sensation intensified, and I realized with a start that I was already too late. The spell was being cast, and I had no choice but to endure it at this point. Thankfully, there didn’t seem to be enough power in this spell to deal any real damage to me… but I still didn’t like the idea of taking this woman’s scorn when none of this was my fault.

Except, instead of a rush of pain or a blast of heat, the sensation I felt was… dry? The water that had been clinging to my body was suddenly pooled at my feet, spreading outward across the floor. And Lissera, who’d done it, was smiling at me.

“…Thank you,” I managed, after a moment of shock. “I’m afraid I ran through my magic capacity while trying to escape the storm…”

“Well, hey, it’s nothing special,” Lissera said, smiling brightly at me. “It’s not nearly enough to apologize for Jackson, anyhow. He’s a good lay, but I swear he’s the absolute worst to be around—no offense, Monica.”

“It’s fine,” Monica replied, sighing and shaking her head sorrowfully. “I know I’m the only fool in town actually willing to date the man.”

“I think everyone but Jackson knows that,” Lissera replied, laughing and slapping at her thigh.

“But seriously,” she continued, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she smiled at me, “Jackson’s as much my lay as he is her boyfriend. I feel a bit responsible. Let me buy you a bowl of stew to make up for it?”

“Well… I am rather low on funds,” I admitted, begrudgingly moving toward the stool. I lowered myself carefully onto its flat wooden surface, glad that my ass provided a little of the cushioning my seat seemed reluctant to give.

“Hey, Tasha!” Lissera called out, directing her gaze to an open door towards the back. “Can you put another bowl of your famous stew on my tab? We’ve got a hungry traveler here.”

“Aye, and a cute one too, judging by the fuss you’re all making!” a loud voice called back. A moment later, what I could only assume to be the innkeeper emerged from the backroom. Tasha was a somewhat portly, middle-aged woman with short-cropped brown hair that stopped directly at her neck’s nape. Her thick arms showed no obvious muscles, and yet she was supporting a large cask on her shoulder with one hand and holding a wooden bowl in the other. She placed the meal on the table in front of me and deposited the cask on the floor with a heavy thud. “Who wants a refill?”

Several of the leather mugs were lifted into the air, and Tasha began the task of gathering and refilling them. That seemed to mark the end of ‘staring at the stranger time,’ as the majority of them quickly went back to their food and drinks.

“So what brings you to our little out-of-the-way village?” Lissera asked me, just as I was reaching out to pull my stew closer.

“Like I said, I’m on a journey of self-improvement,” I told her, reluctantly turning my attention away from the stew. I was actually getting quite hungry, but something Lissera said had intrigued me. “I thought the road was fairly popular, though?”

“Popular?” Monica let out a short, derisive laugh. “Maybe fifteen years ago it was. I don’t really remember it that well, but we apparently got a lot of merchants back before the kingdom completed that road through the Dorn Plains. Whoever told you that we’re popular now was either messing with you or incredibly out of date.”

“What she said,” Lissera confirmed with a nod. “But anyway, I’d rather talk about you than this dusty old place. You keep saying you’re on a journey of self-improvement, right? Well, what are you trying to improve?”

“I don’t know myself,” I told her, shrugging. “My mother’s last wish was that I travel the world and discover my place in it.”

“I-I see,” Lissera whispered, eyes wide. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It’s fine,” I promised, trying not to grimace in response to her earnest reply. I’d only told the best lie available to me. It was simple to remember, and vague enough that I wouldn’t have to come up with a bunch of details. On top of that, I suspected that people would be unwilling to strictly question my dead parent’s final wishes. I did feel a bit guilty for using my mother’s name in such a way, but I didn’t think she’d mind if it kept me from being discovered.

Then again, from everything I’d been told, she’d always kept our people as her highest priority. Perhaps, rather than understanding, she’d look at me with hatred for what I was planning.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Monica said. There was a distant look in her eyes as she spoke to me, as if she wasn’t entirely present in the conversation. After a moment though, her gaze focused on me. “I do have to ask, though: if you’re traveling on your lonesome, without funds, and with no apparent wares, just how are you supporting yourself?”

“Well, I’ve mostly been doing odd jobs in return for lodgings,” I told them, the lie coming far too smoothly from my lips. But then, I’d been lying for a long time in this life—to myself, most of all. Telling myself that I was fine without friends or family, or anyone to care for me at all. The closest thing I’d ever had to a proper friendship had ended so badly, I’d quite literally forbidden anyone from speaking her name in my presence, and yet I told myself that it was fine… that it didn’t matter.

I shoved the thought away and focused on the present, continuing to speak. “I’m actually thinking of joining the adventurer’s guild next time I’m in a big city, though.”

“The adventurer’s guild?” Lissera asked me, her voice breathy and excited. “I mean, I guess that makes sense. I knew you were strong the moment you walked in—just the fact that you’re traveling alone through horned wolf territory shows that.”

“Horned wolf territory?” I asked, brow furrowing. “You mean those beasts are actually near town?” I didn’t actually know much about horned wolves. There were no monster girls from the species in the Tower, so far as I knew, and if my teachers had ever brought them up I hadn’t been paying attention. Still, it was relatively easy to guess what they were, and having them near a human settlement hardly seemed favorable.

“You didn’t know?” Lissera asked, her mouth opening into a small ‘o’ of surprise. “I guess the word’s still spreading about them settling in here… The merchants certainly learned of it fast enough, though. Not that we ever got many of them down here, but now we aren’t getting any…”

“It’s something of a problem,” Monica contributed, frowning. “We grow plenty of food to support ourselves but we’re not entirely self-sufficient. If we can’t sell our crops or spend our money… well, it’s troubling, to say the least. One of the villagers actually had a horse, old as it was, so they’re taking it down to Mirral—the city down south, I mean. He’ll be putting up a request at the adventurer’s guild.”

“I see,” I murmured noncommittally. This wasn’t my problem. It was a human concern. I, on the other hand, wasn’t even an adventurer as of yet, so I certainly had no place taking on a request for them. Still… “How many of them are there?”

“We don’t know,” Lissera confessed. “Nobody’s really gotten a good count. But we hear the howling at night. And some of us saw how they descended on the last merchant who actually dared to come here…”

“They sound… aggressive,” I commented, again trying to keep as noncommittal as possible. This really, truly, absolutely wasn’t something I needed to stick my nose into. Just because Lissera used her magic to dry me and bought me stew didn’t mean I owed her anything. It was all an apology for that asshole boy toy of hers, anyway. I was under no obligation to do anything at all.

I kept repeating that in my mind, but it didn’t stop my stomach from burning.

“I do hope you aren’t planning anything, Miss Eena,” Monica remarked, reaching out to grab my bowl and push it closer to me. “There’s at least twenty wolves out there. It isn’t anything a would-be adventurer should be tackling solo.”

“Yeah!” Lissera chimed in, grabbing hold of the wooden spoon within my bowl and proffering it to me. “You’re not even an adventurer yet anyway, right? Just focus on staying safe tonight. And hey, if you don’t have a place to crash, there’s always my place.”

“...Thank you,” I told Lissera, forcing myself to give her a faint smile. “I’ll consider it.” I was planning to head home as soon as the storm broke, but it didn't hurt to be polite when the girl was making such an obvious effort to be welcoming.

Truthfully, I had lost my appetite. Lissera had already promised to pay for my meal, though, and I thought it rude not to eat, so I stuck my spoon in the bowl and pulled up a chunk of something, drenched in a thick, creamy white liquid. Steam was rising up from the meal, so I blew lightly on it before bringing it to my lips.

It was hot. Tragically underseasoned. And, as I’d feared, almost entirely devoid of salt. Despite that, I immediately drove my spoon back into the bowl and pulled out another of the little chunks. Not even bothering to blow on it again, I shoved that and several more bites into my mouth until I was sure without a doubt.

“This,” I declared, gesturing to the stew, “has potatoes in it. Doesn’t it?”

“I’m surprised you know what those are,” Monica remarked, raising a single eyebrow.

“That’s right!” Lissera volunteered, smiling brightly in stark contrast to Monica’s faint frown. “They’re our village’s specialty. They aren’t really native, but they still grow here pretty damn well!”

I didn’t reply, choosing instead to finish the stew before pushing the bowl away. Then I pushed my stool back and stood. “Well then. It seems I have a wolf problem to deal with.”

“What are you talking about?” Monica demanded. “This request is meant for an entire party to handle. There’s no way you can do it by yourself.”

“She’s right,” Lissera confirmed, nodding vigorously. “Besides, we all sent as much money as we could spare with Trevill. There wouldn’t be anything in it for you.”

“Is that so?” I asked, a small smile slipping across my lips. I was fully aware of the many eyes on me as the townsfolk once again ceased their conversation to see what the stranger was up to. This time it didn’t bother me, however. In fact, it was perhaps for the best that they all heard what I had to say.

“Very well!” I declared, projecting my voice. “I’ve made up my mind. I will save this town from the pack of beasts that threaten it.”

“But we really can’t reward you for it,” Lissera protested again, as murmuring broke out among the gathered townsfolk.

“But you can,” I promised her, my smile growing wider. “You’ll simply have to pay me in potatoes.”

~~~

Author's Notes

As always, I want to give thanks to my beta readers, including ByteOfBrie, Julx, and Wildfire Darkstar!

I can't think of any really big changes I made to this one? It was mostly just small stuff on my part - some words (or even lines) got removed to make things flow a bit smoother, and my beta readers helped with removing some redundant lines as well as just general edits to punctuation and the like. There's a lot of little things, though, like changing "traditional" hairstyles to "mundane" after Wildfire pointed out that from Devilla's perspective the various colorful hair colors are no less "traditional" than the ones from our world. Overall, I think it's a better chapter for the changes, even if there's nothing I can specifically point at and say, "Look at that big change I made!"

As always, thanks for reading! I'll see you next time for the revised chapter 5. :)