The Spoilt Beauty And Her Beasts-Chapter 608: They built strange things, you say

Chapter 608: Chapter 608: They built strange things, you say

Bubu’s voice was a little excited.

[Host, look at you. Standing on a wall with snow in your hair, glaring at the world like you own it. Very in character.]

Isabella’s mouth twitched.

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"So you are spying on my thoughts," she replied silently. "Again."

[Of course,] Bubu said proudly. [This system exists only for you, host. You promise to protect the village. I give you a buff. That is a fair deal.]

Isabella could not deny that this reward made her feel safer.

A five percent buff sounded small, but in this world, five percent could make the difference between a wall breaking and a wall holding, between an arrow grazing a neck and an arrow piercing a heart.

She blew out a white breath and watched it disappear into the cold air.

"Fine," she answered Bubu. "Then make it worth it. If this wall breaks in winter, I will uninstall you."

Bubu, "..."

[Host is getting more and more fierce,] she muttered.

Kian noticed that Isabella’s expression had softened. He did not know about system buffs, but he could feel that her mood had steadied.

He looked at the village again.

Snow continued to fall. Smoke rose from the roofs as people lit more fires and tightened door hides. Glimora bounced through the snow, leaving a trail of small paw prints beside a bigger, injured beast that now slept peacefully in its fenced area.

On another part of the wall, Cyrus, Zyran, and Osiris each stood at a different position.

Cyrus wrapped his scarf higher and kept glancing toward Isabella, ready to rush over if she so much as sneezed.

Zyran was juggling snowballs with lazy fingers, pretending to be bored, but his eyes scanned the distance sharply.

Osiris stood with his cloak blowing in the wind. Snowflakes stuck to his dark lashes. His gaze moved between the sky and the forest, restless but quiet.

Below, a group of hunters from a nearby small tribe passed by the valley entrance and saw the sturdy walls and the moving figures above it.

They had heard rumors in the forest already.

A small village that was no longer weak. A pregnant goddess who threw spears and waved an object that called the wind. A village where food was never short and men did not sell their women for grain.

Some of those hunters looked at the walls with bright eyes.

"If the stories are true, maybe we should move there," one of them whispered. "Our tribe has no future."

Another narrowed his eyes and clenched his spear.

"If they are really growing that fast, they will become a threat," he replied. "Our chief will not like that. He will probably want to crush them before they grow."

Rumors traveled faster than snow.

By the time the sun set behind the white hills, the words "Goddess of the Lion Tribe" had already started to drift through nearby villages, carried by hunters, traders, and wandering beastmen.

Some hearts were filled with hope.

Others were filled with greed.

Winter had officially locked the valley in, but outside, many eyes had turned in their direction.

...

The snow grew thicker over the next few days.

In the eastern forest, far from the lion tribe, another village lay hidden between tall trees and rocky hills. This village had no gentle smoke rising from low roofs. Sharp stakes and tall wooden palisades rose around it like teeth.

In the largest stone room at the center, a beastman pushed aside a thick fur curtain and stepped inside. He shook the snow from his shoulders before walking forward with small, nervous steps.

The room was lit by several beast oil lamps. The walls were decorated with skins and bones, most of them from strong beasts that had been defeated.

A large stone throne stood at the far end. A tall figure sat on it, legs casually spread, tail tapping the stone floor.

The Kangaroo King, Rokai.

Rokai’s build was not as wide as a lion’s, but his thigh muscles were thick and powerful.

His posture was relaxed, but his narrowed eyes and the deep lines at the corners of his mouth showed a man who was used to having his orders followed and his anger feared.

The messenger stopped several steps away and bowed.

"King Rokai, I have returned from the eastern forest," he said. "I have words about the lion tribe."

Rokai’s ears twitched.

"The small lion village?" he asked slowly. "The one with the so called goddess. Speak."

The messenger’s eyes flashed with a complicated mixture of fear and awe.

"It is no longer small," he said. "When I watched from the trees, I saw walls. Real stone walls. They built strange tall things, like teeth rising from the ground. Men stand on them and watch the forest. Their storage pits are covered, and there are many fires. I smelled grains and cooked roots, not only meat. They are... improving very fast."

Rokai’s gaze darkened.

The last time he had sent men to capture that female who dared to call herself a goddess, none of them had returned. At first he had thought they had run away with the spoils, but when he heard that they died at the hands of the lion village, killed and humiliated by a crazy man and a few beasts.

It had been like a slap to his face.

He was the Kangaroo King. His legs could crush stone. His jumps could cross rivers. His village had always been one of the strongest in this region. Other small tribes bowed their heads when he walked past.

Now a tiny lion tribe dared to grow under his nose.

"They built strange things, you say," Rokai repeated, tapping his fingers on the stone armrest. "Do they look like weapons?"

The messenger hesitated.

"I am not sure," he admitted. "They look like things for watching over the area. There are also wooden frames near their houses. I saw skins and woven things hanging there. They might be drying food or making clothes. Their beasts look well fed. Their men look stronger than before."

Rokai snorted.