Here’s how it was—upon waking, the undisputed top priority was of course to go out and harvest; that went without saying. Only, given what the Flesh-and-Blood Waymark could do, before heading out Yvette planned to make more shuttlecraft, launch them everywhere, and comb the world for traces of the aurora’s presence.

And because of their high precision, making a hundred of these shuttlecraft by hand would naturally be a bit slow,

so when she reached the parts workshop in the Central District, she called Abella over to help with whatever components she could manage.

Then came the following exchange—“Follow the schematics and machine these steel pieces into this shape.”

“Oh.”

“And here—structural details. Look carefully.”

“Oh.”

“When you’re done, go to the warehouse and haul over some stockpiled alloy steel.”

“Oh.”

“What’s for dinner?”

“Oh.”

“……”

Sitting on a shop stool in the workshop and getting oh’d at in a flat tone several times in a row, Yvette felt a bit helpless. She was more used to a livelier Abella.

Then, seeing Abella with her head down, fiddling with the hem of her clothes like an aggrieved schoolgirl, she couldn’t help asking, “Did you really keep vigil for two hundred years?”

Could she actually have judged wrong?

“Nope~ Abella’s an opportunist who cuts corners. She wouldn’t do anything that sincere~” Abella answered like a puppet, eyes on something else,

her beautiful face showing no expression at all.

Yvette said, “If I got it wrong, I can apologize.”

“No need~ The Master can’t be wrong~ It’s all Abella’s fault.”

…

Yvette thought, Oh, shove your “oh”s.

In more than 950 years since transmigrating, this was a first. It was downright terrifying—she had no idea how to handle it.

Especially since they were still master and maid. In theory she didn’t need to apologize—she could still order her maid around so long as her conscience could take it.

Maybe being sulked at sharpened her focus; the hundred shuttlecraft fitted with Flesh-and-Blood Waymarks—originally slated to take four to five years—were finished by Yvette in a single six-month sprint.

Incredible, she thought. She wasn’t enjoying her days at all, and yet her productivity skyrocketed. What principle was behind that?

With the shuttlecraft done, it was finally time to set out and harvest aberrant mana.

Thinking of the journey ahead, she decided Abella’s constant silent treatment wouldn’t do. Back at the manor it was like coffee—kept her alert and focused, net positive; but on the road it would put a damper on the mood.

So, on this autumn morning, with a new trip about to begin, Abella pushed open the villa door and saw Yvette standing quietly beside the RV, watching her.

Abella quickly shifted her gaze aside, gave a perfunctory nod, and sped up to hop aboard—only to be stopped by Yvette.

She cocked her head, a little surprised, then returned to that indifferent look, saying nothing and waiting for the Master to speak first.

“Hold on—I have something for you,” Yvette said.

“Oh~” Abella made a sound that might or might not have been surprise, but there was no sign of expectation.

Then her gaze froze, because five familiar-looking grimoires flew out of nowhere and hovered behind the Master.

They were the very five Elemental Grimoires the Master had once given to Dugrabi and Lant!

She had envied them for ages. Even those two true disciples hadn’t received a full set—and now the complete set was right before her eyes!

“Master, y—you—this is—”

“I was in the wrong to start with. And you’ve served me for many years—this is your due.” Yvette smiled gently, like a glacier thawing in spring. She blinked. “Do you like them?”

Abella couldn’t take it. Expressions flashed wildly across her stunning face—now an aloof goddess, now a greedy demon—flipping back and forth, saint to fiend in a thought, completely out of control.

She wanted those five grimoires so badly. Even just letting them auto-battle would be a massive boost!

The problem was, she was the illustrious Spider Woman, second to one and above ten thousand, the number-one expert on the Blacktide Continent. Was she so easily bought, so easily moved?

Hmph! Of course not!

Therefore—

“Love you, Master!!!”

But the Master is different!!

Half a month later, Yvette and Abella arrived on the Blacktide Continent once more. To show gratitude and loyalty, Abella decided to put her conquest of Blacktide on hold and focus on serving the Master; when the journey neared its end, she’d bring it up again.

Yvette could vaguely sense a little something behind this but didn’t mind. Having a maid along did make travel more fun than going solo. She planned to finish Blacktide and Jadeite, then head to Silvermirror Continent to visit the God of Machines via the Sanctum. Her Flesh-and-Blood Waymark could carry a passenger—if danger struck, she’d grab Abella and jump back to Ish Island, safe and sound.

At the old site of Agasha, the Golem Kingdom still existed—just relocated elsewhere. After calling on the Great Elder, she went to harvest at Agasha and there ran into one of Abella’s former subordinates—a female-presenting humanoid aberrant with feline traits, a catgirl.

From the catgirl, Yvette learned how this place had been annexed by other commander factions after the Spider Woman left.

After hearing the account and thinking a moment, she noticed something at once. Turning to the cringing Abella beside her, she said, “Didn’t you say you kept vigil for two hundred years? Why is she saying you left here a hundred years ago?”

“Ah—well—about that—” Abella broke into a sweat. She suddenly recalled that she had indeed inflated the numbers back then, but she’d felt she’d at least kept watch for a hundred years, which made her especially aggrieved—and that was why she’d sulked at the Master.

Later the Master apologized and gave her the five grimoires, and that grace was simply too great.

How did the saying go? At this point, there was no way to bring up the cooked books!

She’d thought she could hide it forever—after all, two hundred years had passed. Who would know?

And today of all days, she had to run into an old subordinate?

She stood there, face gone pale, mind racing for an explanation—when the catgirl pleaded, “Lady Silver Witch, may I go with you? I can serve you too. When I served the Spider Woman before, my lady liked me very much—I can definitely—”

“When did I ever say that?” Abella snapped. “Master, please don’t believe her. She’s all thumbs and can’t do anything right. I never liked her!”

“My lady, that’s not what you said back then—” the catgirl looked at Abella innocently.

“Bull! Drop the act. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re angling for—”

“I’m not—I just hoped to return under your banner and serve you—” “Heh! After the way I treated you back then, you say you want back under me?”

“Ah? Is that so—”

In the end, under Abella’s vehement objections, Yvette chose not to add a new travel companion.

She found it amusing enough, but the catgirl was an important subordinate of a local commander; poaching people just felt wrong.

After that, another twenty-five years passed. Yvette finished a major harvest of low-tier aberrants across the Blacktide Continent, netting 700,000 aberrant mana in one go.

Sure enough, after two hundred years of rest and regrowth, the chives had grown lush indeed.

Next came the Jadeite Continent—fifteen years, another 300,000 aberrant mana—bringing her true body’s total to 1,700,000.

By then, it had been 990 years since her transmigration.

With two continents harvested and ample self-preservation in hand, Yvette turned her craft and, with Abella in tow, set out across the sea toward the Silvermirror Continent.