"At least I am already married. With your looks, no sane woman will even try to get near you." She retorted at my weak point.
"You want to fight, hag?" I was full-on pissed at her pointing out my obvious flaw.
"Let us go, you damn-" We both got slapped across the face by the sister. Looking at her, baffled, she started talking.
"You are in front of a church. Behave yourselves and apologize to each other, you stubborn fools." The sister was giving an aura that made neither of us want to talk back.
"Sorry for calling you an old hag." I bowed down 45 degrees.
"What about the tiny one?" Stacy inquired.
"I can't apologize for a fact," I said with no emotion in my voice.
"You-"
"Apologize!? Now!?" The sister hit me over the head this time.
"I apologize for everything I have said to you, Stacy." Bowing down again.
"Apology accepted, and I too apologize for what I have said to you." Stacy did the same gesture as me.
"Apology accepted."
"There, that is better. Follow me to the private room." The sister walked into the church. Following behind her obediently, we arrived at one of the private rooms. The sister opened the door and looked inside. "Here you go. I believe Milady knows how to use the room?"
"Yes, thank you for guiding us, Sister." Stacy said her thanks and walked in. Following behind her, I saw the interior of the room. I was absolutely disappointed. The room was completely white-no gold inside. The furniture was also just 2 wooden couches and a coffee table with a black tablet on top.
'You would think a church full of so much gold would have better private rooms.'
"You look disappointed?" Stacy asked while closing the door behind us.
"You would think with all the gold the church was built out of, these rooms would look nicer. Not that I mind this plain room-it feels calming." I was confused about how just 3 pieces of furniture and nothing else made it feel calm.
"Ooh, this room is specially made for our family and was designed by yours truly." She puffed out her chest in pride.
'What designing? There is only the furniture.' Looking at her with a deadpan look. "Anyways. Why do we have our own room? Also, why does it feel so calming? Is there some spell on the room?"
"Yes, there is."
"Ooh, let's get this over with. I want to know more about myself and how things work in this world."
"Eager, are we? Sit down and put your hand on the black tablet." Doing as she said, I saw my status pop up from the table like a hologram.
"Your status really changed after a month of sleeping. Well, now that I think about it, it makes sense. You were at your weakest then."
"Are you saying that a person's status will change every day?" I asked, looking my stats over again.
"No, it will only change if you are injured or something big is happening with your body. For example, if a monster evolves-during its evolving process, it will be at its weakest."
"So, it is the best time to kill said beast when it evolves?"
"No, you need experience to level up, and experience works on the stats of the things you kill. Because the stats of the evolving beast will be so low, the experience you will gain will also be low."
"Aah, I get it. So you want to kill it just before it evolves because it is at its strongest."
"Yes. If you look at a monster's stats, the most important things you look at are its strength, vitality, and defense. Those three are the most important to look at-if they are abnormally high, you know it is set for evolution, and it is best to kill the monster as fast as possible."
"I see, I will remember that."
"Brat, you better remember everything I tell you. Your stats look great. I will find a workout for you to get your dexterity and strength up. Let's get to your skills. Dimensional Storage is self-explanatory. Super Regen as well, and your Self-Analysis-I already told you how it works. You can upgrade that skill to Normal Analysis, which will grant you the ability to look at monsters' stats but not humans' or humanoids' stats. You will need a God-Eye for that."
"God-Eye?"
"It's something you are born with. There aren't a lot of them in the world. The most impressive thing about your skills is your racial elements. They are not as rare as God-Eyes, but they are close to it and very powerful."
"I am a cheat," I mumbled.
"Yes, you are. Most people are born with one or two base elements like fire, wind, earth, and water. Then there are the rare elements like light, dark, ice, lightning, etc. These rare elements are only seen every 5 years-excluding reincarnates, since every one of you has a rare element. But for normal people, it's only every 5 years. Then there are your racial elements. These elements are a specialty for each race-not one racial element will be the same. These are by far the strongest there are, and you have 3." She gave me a worried look, and I knew why.
"If people know about that, I will become a high assassination target. That's why the safest place will be close to someone strong, and stay at a dangerous place like the Dead Forest." I looked down, realizing what sort of situation I was in.
"Yes, that is why House Draig was ordered to look after you. We pride ourselves on being the strongest in 1 vs. X. Don't worry about your life for now. Only 5 people know about you having 3 racial elements."
"Sigh, that's good to hear." I was glad that I didn't need to worry that much about assassination attempts just yet. "Stacy, what element do you specialize in?"
"Sorry, kiddo, I can't help you with magic. I don't have an element, but I can help you with weapons and mana control. I am the best in the entire kingdom when it comes to weapons." She beamed at me.
"Awesome, do you know how to use every weapon there is?"
"Yes. Do you want me to teach you how to use every weapon?"
"Yes, please."
"I will think it through. Let's go-we need to do your shopping."
"Are we walking or taking the carriage again?"
"Hmm, let's walk." She smiled at me.
We stepped out of the cool quiet of the church and back into the sunlit streets. The transition was almost blinding-the white stone road reflecting the midday light, the hum of voices and clatter of hooves filling the air again.
The city felt alive in a way that pressed against all my senses. Merchants barked prices over the smell of fresh bread and roasted meat drifting from food stalls. The clink of coins mixed with the creak of wagon wheels. It was crowded, but not unpleasant-more like walking through a living river of sound and movement.
I noticed how little we stood out here. No one gave us a second glance despite our noble status; Stacy's simple, practical clothing and my own plain tunic blended us in with the crowd. I wondered if that was intentional-Stacy always struck me as the type to avoid unnecessary attention.
We turned down a side street lined with small shops, and that's when a foul, acrid stench hit me so hard my stomach lurched.
"Kitsuna, are you okay? You don't look so good," Stacy asked, noting my sudden grimace.
"I smell something revolting." I tried to keep my breakfast where it belonged while talking.
"I see. That's a problem." She scanned the street, and her eyes landed on a stall draped with colorful scarves. "There-follow me."
The scarf vendor greeted us warmly, but her eyes darted toward me when she saw my pale face. Stacy explained about my strong sense of smell, and the woman nodded knowingly, guessing it was the adventurers who had passed earlier.
I let my eyes wander over the neatly arranged display until one caught my attention-a black scarf with subtle red streaks, almost like embers in shadow. Without thinking, I pointed to it.
"You picked a good one, miss-it will fit with your hair," the vendor said.
The fabric was soft against my fingers as I wrapped it over my mouth and nose. The world instantly became bearable again.
"Feeling better?" Stacy asked. I nodded.
"Good, because we're almost there," she said, and after a short walk we arrived in front of a tall building with a polished sign: Lucy Clothing Store.
The large glass windows revealed neat rows of mannequins dressed in everything from traveling leathers to shimmering silk gowns. I could already tell this wasn't some ordinary tailor's shop-it looked like a place where nobles could wander in without anyone blinking, yet also where a merchant's daughter could save up for a special dress.
As we stepped inside, the air changed again-cooler, scented faintly with lavender and fabric dye. I had the feeling the shopping trip was about to be longer and more complicated than I'd expected...
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Chapter 7: Shopping
It was a normal wood sign, no fancy color like what I have seen around. The letters were hand-painted in a steady, practical script, the kind that said, "I make good clothes" without shouting about it. In a street that loved gilded trim and hanging lanterns, the plainness almost made it stand out more.
The bell over the door chimed when we stepped inside. The air was warmer than the street and smelled like fabric pressed straight from sunlit lines-linen and cotton with a little lavender polish and the sharper tang of fresh dye. Racks stood in neat rows like disciplined soldiers: dresses to the left, coats and trousers to the right, and a central island of shirts folded with mathematical precision. Spools of thread sat in tidy pyramids in the glass case along the counter, and a trio of mannequins near the window wore seasonal ensembles that felt more "lived in" than "paraded."
"Lucy, I am back!?" Stacy shouted, as if the shop were a field and she was calling troops to assembly.
"What?! I am coming!" someone yelled from the back.
A blond blur shot out between two dressing screens. By the time my brain said "incoming," my body had already slid one step to the side to avoid the collision.
"Oneeeee-same!?" The blond shouted, leaping. She hit Stacy square in the chest with a thud that would have sent a normal person flying.
That's got to hurt, I thought, imagining what it would feel like to slam into Stacy at that speed. If I'd tried it, I'd bounce.
"Long time no see, Lucy."
"Yes, it's been like 2 years since you came here yourself. You always send your servants." Lucy pouted, still clinging.
"It can't be helped. I was in the capital for the last 2 years." Stacy petted Lucy's head, fingers ruffling short hair with absentminded affection. Watching the two of them, it didn't look like blood sisters-Lucy had short blond hair, a small round face, ocean blue eyes, and pink lips; Stacy was all sleek lines and silver-yet the way they settled into each other's presence said family anyway.
"So, what is the occasion for Onee-sama to come and visit me in person?" After being petted for a couple of minutes, she finally talked.
"We are here to get some clothes, obviously."
"We?" Lucy looked at Stacy, puzzled because she didn't see me standing next to her.
"Yes, my daughter and I are looking for new clothes." Stacy looked behind her to see me standing a couple of meters away from where I originally was standing. "Kitsuna, come; she isn't going to bite you."
"Didn't want to disturb your reunion with your sister," I said, walking closer to them. Looking at Lucy, I saw that she was a beauty. She has short blond hair, a small round face, ocean blue eyes, and pink lips, and she was actually taller than Stacy when she was standing straight.
"A demi-fox. Isn't she a bit old to be your daughter? Stacy, did you cheat on Dean? Or did Dean cheat on you? I would rip him a new one if he did." Lucy shot off question after question and a scary threat as well.
"She is adopted." Stacy's tone flattened. "No one cheated or anything, and she is only 10 years old."
"Wow, she is quite tall and scary for a 10-year-old." Looking at me again, she raised an eyebrow and asked. "What sort of demi-fox are you?"
"A normal one, I think. I haven't been in the social circle as of yet." I shrugged at her weird question.
"I see. Stacy, she isn't a normally adopted daughter, is she?" Lucy looked back at Stacy to receive a nod. Looking down at my bandages, she asked again. "I can touch her, right?" Getting a nod again, Lucy took me by the hand and started walking deeper into the store. "Let us begin your makeover."
"Lucy, can we start with dresses?" Stacy asked, following behind us.
"Stacy, she won't fit in a dress. Looking at her figure, she will most likely be flatter than you." For some reason, I felt depressed to hear that my chest might even be smaller than Stacy's.
"You don't know she is only 10 years old."
"In my line of work, you learn how to know things just from their figure alone."
"So she will be flatter than me?"
"Most probably. So we are going with the clothes she has on right now."
"Hehe, I am not going to be the smallest one in the family anymore." Hearing Stacy's words, I felt that I had lost a part of me that I never knew I had. "Hmm, why are you getting depressed? You are going to look more like a man, you know."
"I, myself, don't even know why I am getting depressed about this. It might be because I am losing to you."
"At least no man will try anything with you." Stacy shrugged.
"Thinking about it that way, that's true. Hehe, I will have my peace and quiet." I smiled under my scarf.
"Are you two done? I want to cut her hair." Lucy said behind me, clipping her scissors. Looking down, I saw I was in a barber chair with towels around my neck.
How did I get here? The chair faced a big mirror framed by ribbons and measuring tapes like a wreath of bright snakes. Pins lived in a cushion shaped like a tomato; chalk sticks dozed in a shallow wooden tray. The whole corner smelled faintly of clean steel and citrus oil.
"Why are you going to cut my hair?" I kind of like my long hair." I watched her in the mirror.
"I am not going to cut off everything. Just below your shoulders."
"That is still a lot."
"That is because your hair goes down below your ass, dummy. It's like you have never cut your hair before."
"Actually, I have never cut my hair before," I said, looking down.
"Wow, that's..." Lucy trailed off-somewhere between impressed and horrified.
"Good luck with your hairdo. I am going to look for some clothes." Stacy said, walking away from us, already drifting toward the men's jackets rather than the dresses.
"You better not get things for Kitsuna. That is my job today," Lucy called behind her.
"That was the plan." Stacy waved her off without turning.
"Okay, back to you." Lucy combed through the heavy fall of my hair, the teeth sliding smoothly. "I am going to cut off your hair until it is below the shoulders. Also, do you want to donate your cut hair? We can make wigs with it."
