Abigail. The leader.
Nickna: “Abby.”
The older ones sotis called her “Bee.”
Queen Bee. She favored red accents—beneath a simple leather breastplate, she wore a crimson undershirt, and under that, chainmail.
A heavy sash belt at her waist carried two broad, machete-like knives. Below, loose adventurer-style leather leggings and thick-soled boots that probably hid a few tricks.
Among all the children wrapped in rags, Abby alone stood out, as if to declare, I’m different.
The mont we reached the bathhouse, she tossed back her faded red hair, smiled at , and in one motion ripped off her belt—knives and all—flinging it aside.
In an instant, she was completely naked.
Zoë stepped forward silently, scooping up Abby’s clothes. She shot a glance, then slipped out, leaving us alone.
“Take a good look. Nice body, huh?”
“…”
It was.
Still youthful, but her chest was full, waist slim. Her leggings had hidden it, but her legs were corded with muscle, tendons twisting like braided hemp.
So of it might be her demi-human heritage. The rest was pure effort; discipline carved into her body.
“At first glance, no abnormalities. You look healthy.”
No sign of skin disease, no trace of the tumors I had once seen on that pointed-eared from the other day.
Abby spread her arms wide and spun twice, laughing.
“Of course. In this world, there’s nothing more precious than this body.”
She wasn’t wrong.
Everything begins with life. Joy, rage, sorrow—all privileges of the living. And the living needed healthy bodies.
Abby was sharp.
“…Truly, you do have a beautiful body.”
“I make a point of wiping myself down every two, three days at least.”
She sprawled into a chair set on the gravel floor, legs wide.
“Alright, get on with it,” she said.
In truth, there was nothing to “do.” But she was clearly expecting it, so I examined her from head to toe, front and back, without omission.
She smiled the entire ti, showing no shyness, no attempt to cover herself.
“No issues. Impressive. Even your nutrition is perfect.”
Her health didn't co at the cost of the children. On the contrary, she protected and supported them. One who cannot defend themselves has no right to defend others. In this miserable world, her ability to maintain herself was worth respect.
I scooped warm water from the crude barrel bath and poured it over her legs.
“Is it okay?”
“Perfect. Splash it over .”
I wanted to tell her to do the rest herself, but sothing told she’d sulk if I did. So I carried on.
“♪~”
Abby started humming cheerfully as I washed her.
“Front, too. You suggested this, so do it thoroughly and don’t slack.”
“…Alright.”
“And the tail. Be extra careful there.”
In a few years, she would grow into a beauty that turned heads. For now, it was rely pleasing to the eye.
But to wash her with no soap, no shampoo, no conditioner.
This primitive lifestyle was intolerable.
“Abby. Is there sothing like soap or detergent here?”
“Soap? Detergent? What’s that? Priest, don’t use your fancy words on .”
“Let rephrase. A liquid, or substance used when washing the body?”
“Hm? Oh, you an alchemical cleansers. Nobles use those. Never seen one myself.”
“I see. Then, can you get oil and ash? I’ll make my own.”
If only I had caustic soda. Dangerous to handle and impossible to produce. I ant old-style soap, the kind you could make with just oil and ash.
“What? You’re saying with oil and ash, you can make that… soap?”
“I don’t know about your ‘alchemical cleansers,’ but yes, sothing similar. Probably.”
“—!”
Her reaction was imdiate.
She whirled onto , hugging with wild enthusiasm.
“Ahh, Di! Di! You amazing, amazing thing!”
“Hey—stop it!”
She rained kisses all over my face.
Nothing lustful—her childish body couldn’t inspire that—but my clothes were now drenched.
Abby clung to , overjoyed, eyes narrow with delight.
“So, Di! Is making this soap difficult?”
I shoved her off, cursing.
“Damn brat! You’re freakishly strong!”
Water splashed over . The little pest. I wanted to unleash Thunderclap, but restrained myself, growling instead.
“Soap’s easy. Even a fool or a kid could make it. Satisfied now? Quit hugging !”
Even thrown into the tub, she stayed giddy.
We talked soap while she soaked, legs hooked over the barrel’s rim, splashing water between her hands.
“Oil, then. Any oil work?”
“Yes, cleaner is better, but I know you want it cheap.”
Her grin turned wicked.
“Hehehe… you know well. What about the ash?”
“Plenty in any fireplace.”
“Di, I’ll kiss you again later!”
“No, thanks.”
She splashed playfully.
“Co in the bath too, Di! I’ll spoil you plenty!”
“No thanks!”
The scuffle continued for a while.
“Feels like my luck’s finally turning since you showed up, Di…”
She sighed, eyes smoldering as they t mine.
“Don’t expect too much. I may not live up to your hopes.”
“Wrong. My gut tells otherwise. And my gut’s never wrong. You’ll bring big profits.”
Intuition, huh?
She trusted it completely. And the way she said it… It nagged at .
This was another world, so much I didn’t understand. Perhaps Abby’s “intuition” was one of its mysteries.
“Choosing Zoë was smart. That girl’s pretty and easy to handle. Plus, from the mont she saw you, she was smitten. She thought you were cute,” she said after a mont.
“‘Cute’ isn’t much of a complint for a man.”
“Hehe. You behave more arrogantly than a mber of the nobility. Of course, you’d hate being called cute.”
She laughed teasingly.
Abby’s natural, innocent smile caught off guard.
She was beautiful indeed.
She noticed my stare and only looked pleased.
“But you know, Zoe is—”
Then it happened.
Screams rose from the children outside. The entire house shook with a violent impact.
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