Chapter 44: Chapter 44: What The Hell Is That?
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The sound of stone against earth echoed in the clearing.
Isabella observed the n’s technique, occasionally stepping in to correct their approach.
"Don’t just hit the sa spot over and over," she instructed, demonstrating with a stick. "Angle it like this—spread the impact. It’ll break apart faster."
As she spoke she was starting to wonder how she knew all these things. Maybe she had this gift for a long ti and was only discovering it?
Yes that must be it, she thought with a smile and then Bubu ca to her mind which made her pout.
And later that stupid system will dare bully her? Humph.
One of the n hesitated but tried her suggestion. His eyes widened when the soil gave way quicker.
"...Huh."
Isabella smirked, arms crossed. "Told you."
Encouraged, the others followed suit, hacking at the ground with more precision, using the sharp-edged stones to chip away at the compact dirt. The process sped up noticeably, their grunts of effort mixing with the rhythmic clink-clink of primitive tools eting the earth.
Curious Eyes
At first, it was just a few villagers passing by, their attention lingering as they caught sight of the group working. So slowed their steps, brows furrowing in confusion.
"Are they... digging?" one man muttered, scratching his head.
"Looks like it," another replied, squinting at the scene. "But why?"
Others exchanged glances, silently questioning if they were seeing things correctly.
Then, as if carried by an unseen force, word began to spread.
Before long, the trickle of onlookers turned into a small crowd. n, won, even a few children—all drawn in by one thing.
Not just the digging.
But her.
The woman at the center of it all.
"Who is she?" a woman whispered to her neighbor, unable to tear her eyes away.
"The outsider," ca the hushed reply. "The one Kian took in."
"She’s... ordering them around?" another voice chid in, disbelief laced in their tone.
"Not just ordering them," an older man noted, eyes narrowing. "They’re listening."
And it wasn’t just her authority that held them captive.
Her blonde hair caught the sunlight, a halo framing her face as she moved, strands swaying like spun silk.
Her skin—flawless, smooth, almost unreal—held a glow that made even the richest village girls seem plain.
Even the fur she wore, though simple in design, draped over her shoulders like sothing only nobility could afford.
"She looks like soone out of a dream," a young girl murmured in awe.
"Like a queen," an older woman muttered, almost begrudgingly.
She wasn’t one of the laborers, yet she moved among them with ease.
She gave directions like she had every right to, stepping in to correct their technique, her voice calm but firm.
"Angle it like this," Isabella instructed, picking up a stick to demonstrate. "You’ll break the ground faster if you don’t just slam it down in one spot."
One of the n grumbled but copied her movents, his brows shooting up when the dirt loosened much quicker.
"Huh," he muttered, almost impressed.
She wasn’t just standing around. She was checking the soil, correcting the workers, and explaining things with ease.
And the villagers?
They had no idea what to make of it.
A few of the older n in the crowd narrowed their eyes.
A woman ordering n to dig? What kind of madness was this?
Digging this deep wasn’t sothing done lightly. The ground was unpredictable—hard in so places, soft in others. If they dug in the wrong spot, the hole could collapse, or worse, it could lead to nothing.
And yet, this woman seed certain.
She wasn’t hesitating. She wasn’t second-guessing.
They couldn’t argue. Not yet. Not when they had no idea what she was trying to do in the first place.
So, they watched.
As the workers continued to break apart the ground, Isabella could feel the weight of the stares.
They don’t trust .
That was fine.
She didn’t need their trust. She just needed them to see the results.
With that thought, Isabella crouched beside the shallow pit they had dug and ran her fingers through the loosened dirt. The color was rich, the texture promising.
"This is good," she muttered to herself before raising her voice. "Alright, that’s deep enough for today."
She dusted off her hands and stood up. "Now, we leave it overnight."
The n nodded, stepping back, wiping sweat from their brows.
Still, the villagers did not leave.
They continued to stare, waiting for sothing—for an answer, an explanation.
Isabella t their gazes without hesitation.
Then, with a calm, confident voice, she declared—
"Tomorrow, you’ll see."
And with that, she turned on her heel, completely unfazed by the silent doubts hanging in the air.
It was still midday, and Isabella was starting to feel hungry. She decided she wanted so fruit and rembered seeing so on the trees near the river where she bathed.
Grabbing a basket, she strolled over, making sure no one followed her. Ophelia was off wandering with Shelia, but Isabella figured she’d grab so fruit for her anyway.
As she walked, a thought struck her—did people in the Stone Age even eat fruit? Or was it just at, at, at, and more at all day?
Either way, she now stood in front of one of the large trees and—oh.
When she looked closely, she realized the fruit looked shockingly familiar.
Was that a peach? A pear? Wait—apples?!
Her mouth practically watered as she scanned the branches, spotting clusters of ripe fruit hanging just above her reach. There were so fallen ones on the ground, but no, she wanted fresh ones.
And just as if that stupid Bubu had read her mind—
Ding!
[Random Task Incoming]
[Climb a tree without falling –
5 points]
Isabella rolled her eyes.
There was no way she was climbing a tree like a monkey.
FIVE MINUTES LATER OF COMPLAINING
"Gosh, I hate you, Bubu," Isabella muttered, already regretting her life choices.
Still, she grabbed hold of the rough bark and started climbing.
At first, it wasn’t too bad. She found decent footholds, her arms pulled her up steadily, and she thought, Okay, maybe I got this—
Her foot suddenly slipped.
Her stomach lurched as her body jerked down, barely catching onto a thick branch with her arms. A sharp piece of bark scraped her thigh, and a stinging pain shot up her leg.
"Ah—!" She bit her lip to stop herself from yelping.
Her fingers trembled as she forced herself to breathe. She had to focus. Falling headfirst wasn’t exactly how she planned to die today.
Taking her ti, she slowly inched her way up again, ignoring the burning in her limbs, until she finally reached a sturdy branch and plopped down on it.
Breathless, sweaty, and mildly traumatized.
Ding!
5 points.
5 Agility
Isabella rolled her eyes. "Oh, shut up, Bubu."
She took a mont to catch her breath before getting to work.
Reaching for the nearest fruit, she yanked it off the branch and tossed it into her basket below. Then another. And another. The soft thuds of fruit landing in the basket below were oddly satisfying.
She was actually enjoying this—
Until her gaze accidentally flicked to the opposite tree.
Sothing red caught her attention.
She squinted. What is that?
She leaned forward, narrowing her eyes through the thick leaves.
And that’s when she saw it.
Her entire body locked up. Her breath hitched. Her pupils shrunk.
A huge, coiled mass of red scales glead between the leaves, its massive body resting lazily along the branches.
Her brain barely had ti to process the nightmare in front of her.
A giant red python.
A giant red python.
A GIANT RED PYTHON.
The scream almost tore from her throat—
But she slapped her hand over her mouth, barely stopping herself.
Her body wobbled dangerously. The sudden movent nearly sent her tumbling off the tree, and she clung to the branch for dear life.
Ding!
1 Survival Instinct.
She didn’t even roll her eyes this ti.
Because what the hell was she supposed to do now?!
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