CHAPTER 432: CHAPTER 432: I’M NOT PROUD OF IT EITHER. BUT SURVIVAL FIRST, MORALS LATER

The mountain was quiet again. Too quiet.

Mist crawled lazily across the glowing lagoon, curling around the rocks like silver smoke. The Lunareens’ laughter echoed faintly from the water—soft, melodic, and just a little too perfect. Isabella sat on a patch of moss near the edge, Glimora cradled against her chest, her knees drawn up, chin resting on top of them.

She had been silent for hours.

Not the dramatic kind of silence where you hope someone will ask what’s wrong—no. This was the heavy, empty kind that sits in your chest like a rock.

Bubu hovered a few feet away, its glowing blue screen dimmed to a quiet pulse. Even the system seemed to have learned that now wasn’t the time to talk.

If Isabella were being honest—really honest—it made no sense to keep blaming Bubu for what had happened. The system didn’t make her say those awful things to Cyrus. It didn’t make her run. It didn’t make her this mess of anger and guilt and fear pretending to be a person.

But honesty hurt. And she wasn’t ready to hurt more.

So she blamed the system anyway.

She sighed, long and slow, watching her breath form small clouds that drifted away into the cold mountain air.

She was supposed to be hunting by now. The entire reason she’d come to this cursed, beautiful mountain was to find ingredients—things rare enough to heal Shelia. But instead, here she was, sitting like a ghost beside a lagoon full of serpentine women who cared more about her unborn baby than about her.

"Great," she muttered to herself. "What a productive day. Ten out of ten. Truly thriving."

Glimora tilted her tiny head up at her, blinking large watery eyes, letting out a small concerned chirp. Isabella smiled weakly, brushing her thumb over the soft fur on her head.

"I’m fine," she lied softly.

The Lunareens were out today—thankfully in their calmer mood. Some of them lounged on the silver-blue rocks, their long tails coiled like silk ribbons, the scales catching the light and shimmering like moonlit glass. A few of them braided each other’s white hair, humming in low, haunting tunes.

Their beauty was unreal—almost too perfect. If she stared long enough, it felt like the world bent around them.

Taking a slow breath, Isabella stood. Glimora was tucked carefully against her arm, her tail wrapped around Isabella’s wrist. She dusted off her animal-skin dress, squared her shoulders, and began walking toward the group.

Every step she took echoed slightly, the soft slap of her bare feet against damp moss. The Lunareens turned when they noticed her approach. Instead of hissing or snarling, they smiled—serene, eerie smiles that still made Isabella’s stomach tighten.

"Ah," one of them said in a lilting tone. "The mortal mother returns."

"Please don’t call me that," Isabella muttered under her breath, smiling awkwardly.

Another, with sea-green eyes, tilted her head and asked warmly, "Is there something the baby desires?"

Isabella blinked. "The—what?"

"The baby," another repeated as if she hadn’t heard right. "Does it crave anything? Salted pearl fruit? Jelly kelp? We can provide."

Isabella stared at them, speechless. "Um... no? The baby doesn’t want anything. I was just wondering if I could, uh, maybe... set up a little tent over there." She gestured toward a grassy patch near the rocks. "Something small, just to rest in."

There was a beat of silence before one of them said simply, "No."

Her mouth fell open. "No? Why not?"

The nearest Lunareen gave her a patient look, the kind you give a child who asked something silly. "You are already allowed to stay here, mortal. The grass is soft enough to sleep on."

Isabella blinked twice. "...It’s cold."

Another shrugged, coils shifting lazily behind her. "And?"

"And—" Isabella’s tone rose in disbelief, "—I’m not a cold-blooded moon snake woman, that’s what! My body is different. It’s freezing. I could literally—ugh, never mind." She forced a polite smile. "I just need something to keep warm. For me and the baby."

The moment those words left her lips, the Lunareens froze. Then—collective panic.

"The baby cannot be cold!" one gasped.

"Oh no, no, no, this is terrible!" another wailed dramatically, coiling tighter.

"Quick! Warm the moss! Make her a place!"

Isabella just stood there, blinking at the sudden chaos. In less than five seconds, they went from indifferent to treating her like a holy relic.

Her smile twitched. "...Right. Of course. The baby."

They bustled about, humming low spells that made the grass shimmer faintly with warmth. Isabella stood in silence, holding Glimora and staring at them.

She’d suspected it earlier, but this confirmed it—they didn’t actually care about her.

It was the baby.

If she hadn’t been pregnant, these women would have probably thrown her back into the mist by now.

Her heart twisted. She tried not to let it show, but something in her chest ached—something raw, something lonely.

So this was how she was going to survive here: by using a child she hadn’t even wanted.

Her stomach turned at the thought.

Still, she managed a grateful smile. "Thank you," she said quietly. "That’s... very kind."

They all smiled back, proud and satisfied, as if they had just saved a life.

As she turned to walk away, she muttered under her breath, "Well, that was disturbing."

Glimora made a tiny agreeing squeak.

"Oh, don’t you start too," Isabella murmured, rubbing her temple.

She was about to leave when her stomach grumbled—loudly enough that one of the Lunareens looked over in faint amusement. Isabella forced a laugh. "Wow, okay, that’s embarrassing."

She hesitated, then turned back toward them. "Um... sorry to bother you again, but... can I get some of those fruits from the trees near the lagoon?"

The one with sea-green eyes frowned. "No. Those are sacred."

Isabella inhaled through her nose. "Right. Sacred. Got it."

A pause.

Then, with the sweetest smile she could muster, she added, "It’s for the baby."

There was instant chaos again.

"Oh! For the baby!"

"Why didn’t you say that earlier!"

"Yes, yes, of course, take what you need!"

Isabella smiled politely as they waved her off toward the trees.

The moment she turned her back, her smile dropped. "Unbelievable," she muttered. "Absolutely unbelievable."

Glimora looked up at her with big watery eyes, almost pitying.

"Don’t give me that look," Isabella whispered. "I’m not proud of it either. But survival first, morals later."

Bubu, who had been silent for hours, flickered faintly beside her, its screen pulsing with faint amusement.

"Did you say something?" Isabella snapped, glaring at the floating system.

"Nope," Bubu said quickly, its text flashing innocently.

"Uh-huh."

She rolled her eyes and trudged toward the fruit trees, her animal-skin dress brushing softly against her legs, the mountain air nipping at her arms. She picked one of the glowing blue fruits, the scent sharp and sweet, like honey mixed with frost.

She took a small bite and sighed. "At least this part doesn’t suck."

Glimora nuzzled against her chest, making a small cooing noise. Isabella smiled down at her, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice whispered that this moment—this small, fragile peace—wouldn’t last long. But she pushed the thought away.

Right now, she just needed to breathe.

And eat her fruit in peace.

Because if the universe was planning another cruel twist, she was going to need the energy for it.