CHAPTER 434: CHAPTER 434: YOU PEOPLE ARE INSANE

Morning came slowly on the mountain—if you could even call it morning.

The sky above the lagoon never really turned gold like back on land; it just shifted from deep blue to a paler, glowing shade, like someone had washed the color out of it. The mist thinned, curling lazily over the water, and the air carried that faint metallic scent of magic and dew.

Isabella blinked her eyes open inside the tent. For a moment, she forgot where she was. Then Glimora yawned loudly beside her, a small squeaky sound that broke the stillness, and reality came rushing back.

"Oh right," she muttered, rubbing her face. "Still stuck on the mountain. Still babysitting myself."

Glimora stretched like a cat, little tail flicking. Isabella poked her gently on the forehead. "You sleep like you pay rent in my tent, you know that?"

The creature squeaked again and buried herself in the blanket. Isabella sighed, dragging herself upright. The soft moss floor was cool under her bare feet, sending a small shiver up her spine.

She peeked out through the tent flap. The lagoon shimmered as usual—too perfect, too pretty. A few Lunareens floated lazily near the water’s surface, their glowing tails rippling like ribbons of light. They looked peaceful. Almost human. Until you noticed the slitted eyes.

"Right," Isabella whispered, "time to charm the sea snakes again."

She splashed some water from the small basin in her tent onto her face, then reached into her spatial storage. The familiar shimmer appeared, and she pulled out her small liquid soap.

Even the smell of it—faintly floral, faintly familiar—made her heart pinch a little. It reminded her of home. Of the world she’d left behind.

"Don’t start crying because of soap," she muttered, shaking her head.

She walked toward the lagoon. The Lunareens glanced over, curiosity sparking in their glowing eyes as she knelt at the edge and hesitated. Her reflection rippled back at her—tired eyes, tangled hair, a face that had seen far too much for one lifetime.

"Uh," she murmured, glancing toward the nearest Lunareen, "is it okay if I... use a little water? Just for washing?"

They exchanged a few soft, echoing hums before one finally inclined her head. "For the child? You may."

"Right," Isabella said quickly, forcing a smile. "Yes. For the child."

Only then did she dip her hands into the lagoon. The water was cold but soft—almost silky, as if magic lingered in every drop. She scooped some into a wooden bowl and started washing her face properly this time, the soap foaming between her fingers.

She hummed under her breath—a simple tune, something she didn’t even realize she remembered. Glimora hopped over and tried to sniff the bubbles.

"No, no, no," Isabella said quickly, nudging her back. "This isn’t for eating, you menace."

One of the Lunareens—her scales tinted rose-gold—glided closer. Her long tail brushed through the water with that graceful slither only they could manage. "What are you doing, mortal mother?" she asked, voice smooth as honey but sharp beneath.

"Washing," Isabella said simply, scrubbing at her cheeks.

"Washing?"

"Yes. Hygiene. You know, keeping clean? It’s what civilized beings do."

The Lunareen tilted her head, confused. "The sea cleanses all."

"Yeah, that’s great for you and your tail," Isabella said dryly, wringing out her hands. "But I’m not built to smell like seaweed."

There was a beat of silence. Then, to Isabella’s surprise, the Lunareen laughed—a quiet, rippling sound that made the water around her vibrate faintly. "You are amusing," she said before slinking away.

"Not sure if that’s a compliment or a death sentence," Isabella muttered.

After she’d washed, she went back into her tent and retrieved her small toothbrush. It was slightly cracked, but it worked. She brushed her teeth while glaring at Bubu’s inactive screen, just in case the system was watching and judging her.

"Don’t even think about making a hygiene tax," she warned under her breath.

Once done, she stepped outside again. The morning—or whatever passed for it—had fully awakened. The Lunareens were busy doing... well, whatever they did. Some sang softly while combing their hair with coral combs, others swam in slow circles, their tails flashing beneath the water’s surface.

The whole place smelled faintly of salt, flowers, and something sweet—like crushed shells and moonlight.

Isabella’s stomach grumbled.

"Seriously?" she said, glaring down at herself. "You ate like half a tree last night."

Glimora, ever the opportunist, perked up. Isabella sighed. "Fine, fine. Fruits it is."

She picked a few glowing fruits from the basket near her tent and took a big bite. The juice dripped down her fingers, cold and sugary. "Still weird," she mumbled, chewing. "But at least I’m not starving."

A voice drifted over from the water. "Does the baby like the fruits?"

Isabella froze mid-bite. Several Lunareens were watching her, eyes gleaming.

"The—baby?" she echoed weakly. "Oh, yes, the baby loves them. The baby is thriving." She nodded solemnly, pointing at her stomach. "Five stars. Would recommend."

They all smiled approvingly, murmuring things like "Such a devoted mother" and "The child will be strong."

Isabella smiled sweetly until they looked away, then muttered under her breath, "You people are insane."

She went back to her tent, Glimora still in her arms, and gathered her few things—her fan, her pouch, and the soap she’d used earlier. Then she returned to the lagoon.

Time to make her next move.

A group of Lunareens swayed nearby, humming a soft tune. Isabella cleared her throat. "Uh, hi," she began awkwardly. "I was just... heading out for a bit. You know, walking. Stretching my legs. Doctor’s orders. Very important for the baby."

Instantly, their attention shifted to her stomach. "Walking?" one asked. "Far?"

"Oh, not too far!" Isabella said quickly. "Just a little stroll. Helps the baby grow healthy and strong. Builds character. And muscles."

The sisters exchanged looks. Then, one of them—the rose-gold scaled one again—nodded slowly. "Very well. The child’s growth must be nurtured."

Another clapped her hands. "Bring her some water from the lagoon!"

"No, no, it’s okay, I—" Isabella began, but it was too late.

Within seconds, two Lunareens glided away and returned with a small flask carved from pearl, filled with shimmering blue water. They handed it to her reverently, as if it were holy.

"For the baby," one said.

"Of course," Isabella said, bowing slightly to hide her smirk. "For the baby."

Glimora rolled her eyes.

"I saw that," Isabella whispered, nudging her gently.

With everything ready, she stepped past the misty boundary that marked the Lunareens’ territory. The air shifted immediately—colder, heavier, and more real. The faint hum of their magic dimmed behind her, replaced by the rustle of the mountain’s wind through the trees.

For a moment, she just stood there, staring ahead at the winding forest path bathed in silver light. The world beyond was quieter, but not empty. She could feel something vast humming beneath her feet—the pulse of the mountain itself.

Glimora clung to her arm, sniffing the air nervously. Isabella patted her head. "It’s okay, baby. We’ve survived worse."

She took a deep breath, letting the chill fill her lungs. The morning mist brushed over her face, cool and wet like a whisper.

"Alright," she murmured. "New day. New nightmare waiting somewhere out there. Let’s get this over with."

Her fan hung at her side, faintly pulsing with soft light. Her steps were careful but steady as she began walking. The path glowed faintly under her feet, each rock glimmering like starlight embedded in stone.

She could hear the distant rush of a waterfall somewhere up ahead, the sound blending with the soft hum of magic in the air. Birds—if that’s what they were—called faintly from the cliffs, their voices strange and echoing, like notes of a forgotten song.

For a brief moment, she let herself enjoy it. The peace. The calm. The illusion of normal.

Then she exhaled, tilting her head slightly upward. "Alright, Bubu," she said at last, her voice breaking the silence. "What’s the first task today?"

Her words lingered in the cool air like a challenge.

And somewhere—deep in the air around her—the system stirred.