“Achoo!”
Isolde sat at the long table, rubbing the tip of her nose.
Beside her, Lia thoughtfully handed her a silk handkerchief.
“Thank you.”
Isolde took the handkerchief and lazily wiped her nose.
After fulfilling the unicorn's last wish, she had finally allowed herself to curl up under the blankets and sleep for four hours.
Yes, that was right—only four hours.
In the past, this tiny amount of time wouldn't even count as a nap.
But now, the moment she opened her eyes, her body was already mostly recovered.
High-grade healing potions had healed her wounds, and Isolde's physical constitution had endured the toll.
Yet, there was one most important thing.
Who could resist opening chests?
Especially a luxurious jackpot like this, earned at the risk of her life.
On both sides of the long table, chests were opened one after another.
A chest of high-grade healing potions, a chest of high-grade mana potions.
Two chests of glowing crystals and high-purity ores.
A small case of skill books and scrolls.
Additionally, there were several chests of Holy Court specialty equipment, neatly packed with staffs, daggers, amulets, and a few pieces of light armor bearing holy runes.
The remaining gold coins, gems, beaded jewelry, and holy silver goblets were in absurdly vast quantities.
If an ordinary player were to walk by right now, Isolde felt she could throw a handful of gold coins at them and make them question their life choices.
It could be said that this trip to the Grey Dove Monastery had completely turned Isolde—who had suffered hardships for years following Valen—into a wealthy woman.
As she stared at the treasures, the corners of her mouth curved upward, only to be quickly pressed back down.
Then, she let out a sigh.
Lia stood beside her, her dull, grey eyes falling upon the pile of loot that would drive any ordinary person mad.
“Are you unsatisfied, Miss?”
“I am satisfied.”
Isolde picked up one of the wands, her fingertip gently brushing over the silver cross pattern on the shaft.
But these things had anti-theft markings. If she used them openly, wouldn't that be the equivalent of telling everyone, “I'm the one who ransacked the monastery”?
Lia asked, “Then why did you sigh, Miss?”
Isolde replied earnestly, “Because it's too considerate.”
Lia paused. “Considerate?”
“Yes.” Isolde pointed at the Holy Court emblem on the wand. “It even brought its ID card when it went out.”
Lia stared at the emblem and asked flatly,
“What is an ID card?”
Isolde answered, “Something that proves who you are.”
Lia fell silent for a moment, then suddenly asked,
“...Do I have one on me too?”
Isolde's movements stiffened, and she looked up at Lia.
Beneath that bandage-wrapped face, there was still a lingering, decaying aura of death.
But in that brief instant, she caught a faint, subtle flicker in Lia's otherwise stagnant, dead eyes.
Seeing Isolde's silence, Lia took half a step back and bowed.
“I apologize, Miss. Please forgive my rudeness.”
Her voice returned to its completely flat, emotionless state.
Isolde let out a soft chuckle, staring at her with great interest.
“What identity do you want to prove? Your identity as Lia the maid, or the identity of the soul inside this body?”
Lia raised her head, looking somewhat dazed.
“I... do not quite understand.”
“It is fine if you do not understand.” Isolde set down the wand. “If you ever figure it out, you can come to me anytime.”
Lia's eyes trembled slightly, and she nodded respectfully.
“Yes, Miss.”
Isolde withdrew her gaze and looked back at the loot before her.
She could not use the Holy Court items openly for the time being.
But she could keep them for now; perhaps they would come in handy later.
She opened a few skill scrolls; the holy runes on the pages were fully intact and the structure was clear.
With her current intelligence stat, learning them would not be difficult.
However, these types of skills required the support of a stable light-attribute stat. Although she had some light energy in her body, it was very weak, and she could not truly turn herself into a pure Holy Court white lotus.
If she forced herself to learn them, putting aside whether she would succeed, she would most likely suffer a backlash first.
Even more troublesome was that her current shortcomings had become very obvious.
Inside Crow Candle Castle, she was the master, the dungeon Boss, the Soul-Weaving Witch who could initiate a Blood Banquet, command servants, utilize the terrain, and manipulate the rules.
But once she left the castle, she lost her home-field advantage. Her exclusive skills became unusable, and her Castle Authority was practically in an offline state.
If she ran into a well-leveled Descender outside, to put it bluntly, she would go from being a "home-court Boss" to a "rare elite monster in the wild"—and her item drops would probably be highly tempting.
At this thought, Isolde frowned.
This would not do. She could scheme, set traps, and turn the tables to kill her pursuers.
But she must never allow herself to become a farmable resource node in the eyes of others.
She looked down at the 【Corona Band】 on her wrist.
The silver-white bracelet rested quietly against her skin, the faint dark red residual glow on its surface flickering like the fragile breathing of a newborn beast.
The newly born Corona Unicorn was indeed powerful, but it had only just come back to life from its remains, and its soul cracks had not yet been mended.
Forcing it to come out and fight frequently would be like using a newly repaired legendary piece of equipment to crack walnuts. It was painful to even think about.
She sighed and unfolded the northern map she had coaxed out of Ur.
The parchment was yellowed, but the markings were extremely detailed: surrounding towns, abandoned villages, old mine shafts, deserted trade routes, black-market exchange points, and even the Holy Court's patrol routes were all listed.
Isolde's fingertip stopped on a wilderness area on the map, her gaze turning deep.
That was a place she had visited in her past life when she first entered 《Fallen Realm》.
At the time, she had been treated as pathfinding cannon fodder and a scapegoat by that group of so-called "pioneers."
Relying on their ruthlessness and decent luck, those people had later thrived in the Descenders' Guild, while she could only struggle in the mud.
Isolde lowered her eyes, the corners of her mouth flattening out.
Right now was the early stage of the timeline. If she set off early, she might just meet them on the way.
If she could eliminate them before they fully grew, it would save her a lot of trouble down the line.
Of course, pure revenge was too childish. Harvesting those early hidden quests and key skill materials along the way was what true, rational efficiency maximization looked like.
Right now, she urgently needed a larger world map to calibrate her position, and Ur was sure to have something like that.
“Lia, is Ur still in the castle?” Isolde asked.
“Yes,” Lia said, bowing her head. “Last night, he even tried to peddle expired frog beans to the faceless servants, but I stopped him.”
Isolde was puzzled. “Frog beans? What are those?”
Lia replied, “A type of 'traveler's dry ration' made from wetland decay-algae frog eggs. A single bean can keep one full for an entire day, but consuming expired beans by mistake will turn humanoid creatures into frog-faced beings, causing them to croak uncontrollably.”
Isolde was speechless. “He's even scamming money from the faceless servants?”
Lia said, “The faceless servants have no money.”
“Then what is he selling them for?”
“He said he could accept soul installments.”
Isolde was silent for two seconds, then said in all sincerity, “Keep a close eye on him. Don't let him trick my employees away.”
Lia replied, “Yes, Miss.”
Isolde thought for a moment, stood up, and tucked the map away.
“Arrange afternoon tea. I want to have a talk with Ur, and while I'm at it, get him to cough up another map.”
“Yes, Miss.”
Rate on N.U.
