The Spoilt Beauty And Her Beasts-Chapter 593: So cute, She likes big scary things

Chapter 593: Chapter 593: So cute, She likes big scary things

As the days passed, the wind around the village grew colder. The leaves on the nearby trees slowly turned yellow, then brown, and fell to the ground, covering the paths in a soft rustling layer.

Outside the village walls, near the line where the forest began, a special fenced area had been built.

The Mountain Ridge Beast lay inside it.

The wooden fence was thick and tall, reinforced with stones at the bottom. Inside, there was clean straw, a small pool of water, and a pile of herbs Cyrus had gathered to help it recover.

The beast’s wounds had already closed in many places. New fur was growing slowly over the scars. Its eyes, which had once glowed with a red haze, now looked clearer, though still wary.

Glimora stood on the outside of the fence at first.

She was small compared to the beast, with soft fur and bright eyes. She sniffed the air, circled twice, then hopped through the gap between the lower planks and padded in.

The Mountain Ridge Beast froze when the small creature approached. Its muscles tensed, ready to defend itself.

Glimora stopped an arm’s length away and tilted her head. She studied the bigger beast for a while, then lowered herself and curled up beside its front leg.

She closed her eyes as if she had just found a warm pillow. 𝑓𝘳𝑒𝑒𝓌𝘦𝘣𝘯ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝑚

The Mountain Ridge Beast stared at her.

After a long moment, it let out a slow breath and lowered its head again. One large paw twitched slightly closer.

Isabella watched all this from outside the fence.

"So cute," she murmured. "She likes big scary things."

[You picked her. You only have yourself to blame.] Bubu’s voice sounded lazy. [Now you are collecting rare beasts like some mountain collector.]

Isabella leaned on the fence and rested her chin on her folded arms. "If she wants a giant friend, I will not stop her. They can keep each other warm in winter."

[Just do not let the big one sit on her.]

"I am not stupid."

Inside the fence, the small and large beasts slept side by side. The sight made the world feel a little softer.

Not far from there, the captured poachers were not enjoying such softness.

They had been divided into groups and were already covered in dirt and sweat.

"Deeper," a villager shouted. "The storage pit must go deeper. If the winter is long, this much will not be enough."

One of the poachers gritted his teeth as he dug. "My arm hurts."

A guard standing above looked down. "You still have one left. Use it."

Another group was stacking stones along the village walls, reinforcing weak points. Others were dragging logs to build simple watchtowers on the hills that Isabella had pointed to.

There were no whips here, but the villagers’ mouths were sharp enough.

"Move faster. You were running very quickly when you chased that beast, did you forget?"

"You wanted to work for big cities. Now you work for us. Be grateful you are still breathing."

The poachers’ faces were dark and ugly, but none of them dared talk back. They knew that without Isabella, their heads might already be decorating those walls.

Isabella walked past them once, checking their work. She did not interrupt. It was enough that they were sweating for the village now instead of spilling blood outside.

From the walls, she made her way toward the small farming fields behind the houses.

These fields had once been simple and poor. The soil here was not as fertile as the river plains in other regions. The villagers mostly relied on hunting and gathering.

Now, neat rows of plants filled the ground.

The seeds Isabella had brought back from the mountain had already sprouted. Thick green leaves spread along the earth, and some plants even showed early buds.

They are growing so fast.

She crouched down and touched one of the leaves carefully.

"If the weather holds," one of the older women said behind her, "we will be able to harvest before the deepest winter. There will be roots, grains, and those strange vegetables you described."

The thought made Isabella’s heart warm.

By winter, they would have more than just meat. There would be soups, roasted roots, and even simple vegetable dishes. The children would not have to chew dried meat with frozen fingers every day.

"We will have enough to eat," Isabella said. "And enough to sell."

The woman blinked. "Sell?"

"When other small tribes pass by," Isabella explained, "we can trade. They may have salt, skins, or tools we do not have. We give them food, they give us something in return. No one starves, and no one needs to beg from cities that look down on them."

The woman’s eyes brightened. "That would be good."

Isabella stood up and dusted off her hands.

She could already imagine the storage pits filled with dried meat and grains. The smell of cooked food in winter. Children with round bellies instead of hollow cheeks.

The world outside was ugly, but inside this village, she could at least make things a little better.

...

Far away from this peaceful place, a man stumbled into a trading post near a rocky valley.

His clothes were torn, and his face was pale from exhaustion. One arm was bandaged roughly. He limped as he pushed open the curtain of a rough stone building.

The trading post was filled with the smell of smoke and beasts. Men sat on low stools, discussing routes and prices. Furs and cores were displayed on stone slabs. A few slaves sat quietly in the corner.

The escaped poacher licked his dry lips.

"I have information," he said. "About a new village. And a female."

A heavy-set man sitting at a central table lifted his gaze lazily. "Everyone has a story. Unless yours is better than the last drunk who came in, keep it to yourself."

The poacher clenched his jaw. "This female is not normal. She is pregnant. She uses a wind object as a weapon. She cut off my comrade’s arm with one stroke. She is protected by rare beasts and strong males. And she claimed a part of the mountain as her own."

The room quieted a little.

A thin man at the side asked, "What did she look like?"

"Pretty," the poacher replied at once. "Too pretty. Like a goddess. The villagers treat her like one. They listen when she talks."

A murmur rose.

A pregnant goddess with a rare beast and a village full of strong males.

To some, it sounded like a blessing. To others, it sounded like a walking fortune.

The heavy-set man tapped his fingers on the table. "Which direction?"

The poacher gave what details he could remember. The nearby landmarks. The river. The mountain ridge.

Word spread from that trading post like smoke carried by the wind.

By the time the sun had set twice, the rumor had already reached a caravan heading toward the First City.

On another path, different traders whispered about it as they moved toward the Fifth City.

Some laughed it off as an exaggerated story.

Others tucked the information away in their hearts, their eyes darkening with greed.

A pregnant goddess, a rare wind object l, a mountain beast, and a small village that dared to set new rules.

If such a place really existed, it would not stay quiet for long.