Kelly walked sluggishly, dragging her sword behind her, the tip scraping softly against the dirt. Her face was drawn with exhaustion, and the sky above had dimmed into twilight. Four round moons had begun to rise over the horizon, their pale glow casting long shadows over the forest floor.
This part of the forest was strangely calm compared to where she'd just escaped. From time to time, a low growl or eerie rustle would echo from deeper within the trees, each one making her flinch and shiver a little harder than she'd like to admit.
She almost had a heart attack when she heard what sounded like a baby giggle. Normally, she adored babies—especially the cute, giggly ones. But out here, in a creepy forest filled with monsters? That sound wasn't cute. It was nightmare fuel.
Still, the monsters weren't even her biggest problem anymore. What truly scared her was the slow unraveling of her own mind.
"Hey," Kelly said suddenly, stopping in her tracks. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at a cactus-shaped plant. "You're Mr. Cucumber, right?"
Of course, the plant didn't answer.
Kelly scowled like it had just insulted her personally.
"Hey, Mr. Cucumber," Kelly called, her voice sharp with irritation as a frown took over her face. "Don't be rude. It's basic manners to answer when someone speaks nicely."
After surviving the psychic assaults of a horde of man-eating plants, Kelly was pretty sure her brain had been reduced to soup. She was dangerously close to the mental state of a complete idiot.
But not just any idiot—the special kind. The kind who knew they were an idiot but didn't care enough to fix it. And sure, deep down she knew the cactus-shaped plant wasn't a cucumber. But the part of her mind currently consumed by hunger simply didn't want to hear it. Because something worse than being hungry was knowing there was no food in sight.
With a glare worthy of a villain's final act, she pointed her sword at the plant. Cactus or not, she was getting a cucumber out of this encounter.
Shouldn't be impossible. A cactus was just a more... antisocial cucumber.
And besides, the cactus had been rude. Which meant she could carve it up without guilt.
"I was only planning on taking a teeny tiny bite," she said proudly, lifting her sword. "But now, for your crimes of insolence, I sentence you to death—by my jaws of justice!"
She slashed.
The cactus split cleanly in two, and both halves flopped open, oozing a foul-smelling, slimy green liquid that made her gag.
Kelly gritted her teeth, resisting the sting in her eyes. Sure, she was desperate enough to try cactus water—a "delicacy" no sane person on Earth would ever consider—but even she had limits. And now, she'd been reminded in the most disgusting way that what looked like a cactus here was nothing like the ones back home.
This world wasn't Earth.
Dragging her drained body through the tall grasses, Kelly tried not to think about how thirsty she was. But that was the problem—trying not to think about something only made it worse. Her throat felt like sandpaper. Dry, cracked, screaming for relief.
She had no idea how long she walked. Minutes, hours—time lost all meaning when your body was running on fumes. Hunger and thirst had a way of stretching every second into an eternity.
Then, through the silence, came music.
Soft, lilting, emotional. It curled through the trees like a breeze, creeping into her ears and nestling in her tired mind.
But Kelly didn't care for music. Not now. Music meant one thing—people. And people meant food. Water. Help.
She froze, Jayden's warning whispering in her mind: Be more wary of people than beasts. But hesitation wouldn't quench her thirst. And if she was going to die anyway, she might as well gamble for the chance to live.
Kelly pushed through the thick canopy and stepped into a clearing.
Four tents sat in the open space, lit by soft lanterns. A group of women lounged outside, dressed in armor that gleamed under the glow of the moons. They laughed freely, glasses of wine in hand, trading jokes under the night sky.
Further ahead, on an elevated stone platform, Kelly spotted the outline of a throne—and someone sitting on it. Around the platform, five women danced in slow, graceful motions, their movements hazy and disorienting, like the shifting shapes of a dream. Each step left behind delicate afterimages, turning the dance into something surreal.
But what truly caught Kelly's attention wasn't the throne or the dancers' grace. It was them—these women weren't like the other alien humans she'd encountered.
They were something... better.
They had tails.
Each woman bore a different number of them, long and gleaming, but what made Kelly's eyes practically sparkle was how soft and fluffy they looked. Snow-white, delicate, and absolutely stroke-worthy. She didn't care if they were dangerous—those tails were everything she didn't know she wanted.
"You dare trespass on our camp, pureblood."
The sharp voice snapped Kelly out of her daze. Two of the tailed women were now standing before her, eyes narrowed and brimming with fury. From the way they were positioned, Kelly guessed they were supposed to be the camp's lookouts.
Clearly, they'd been slacking.
And now, her presence alone was proof of their failure—which must've been infuriating for them. But as much as Kelly wanted to stay and maybe stroke a tail or two, she had to prioritize survival over fluff.
"Water," Kelly mumbled, her voice strained and hoarse. "I just want water."
Both women instantly drew their swords, their expressions tightening into wariness.
Kelly blinked. Did she say something wrong?
The other women, the ones who had been laughing under the moonlight, had now turned toward the commotion. Kelly felt the weight of a scorching gaze pressing down on her. She glanced toward the elevated throne above the platform, but the shadows were too thick to see who was sitting there. Still, whoever it was… they were watching her intently.
"Turn back," the older-looking woman snarled, her blade glinting coldly beneath the moonlight. "Or your head will roll."
Kelly sighed inwardly, irritation beginning to bubble beneath her fatigue. It was just some damn water. She had no clue why these weirdos were acting like she'd asked for the blood of their ancestors.
But she wasn't going anywhere.
Turning back meant facing a death she couldn't even control—something pathetic, like being eaten by some bottom-tier swamp creature. No thanks. If she was going to die, she'd rather it be quick. A sword to the neck? Way more dignified.
So honestly, the threat was… kind of encouraging.
"Please," Kelly said again, her tone dull and flat. "Just give me some water, and I'll be on my way."
"I'm sorry," the second knight replied, lifting her sword for a strike. "You should've left when you had the chance. Now… do us a favor and die."
Before the woman could strike, a breeze swept through—soft and sharp, like the whisper of wind. Then, as if she'd been there all along, a woman appeared.
She was breathtaking. Dressed in flowing white, with a calm, ethereal presence, her aura exuded a kind of stillness—like she belonged to a world untouched by filth. Behind her, six glowing, fluffy tails fanned out in full display.
Both knights dropped to one knee, their faces solemn with reverence. "We greet the Celestial Maiden."
"Kimo. Kitsu," the woman responded, her voice like a balm to the mind—calm, steady, oddly comforting. "Do not threaten the young one any longer. She has caught the interest of Her Highness."
The older knight hesitated, her grip tightening around her sword's hilt. "Forgive me, Your Eminence… but the timing of her approach, and her request—it's suspicious. No one is supposed to know about that which must not be spoken."
Kelly, who had been reluctantly tearing her eyes from the hypnotic tails, turned to squint at the knight. Something about this dried-up, menopausal twig of a harlot screamed "I just really want to kill someone today." Like, personally.
Still smiling, the Celestial Maiden showed no irritation at the protest. Her voice remained soft, composed. "And are you not embarrassed," she said lightly, "that the aura of a girl only just touching the path of Astral Ascendance is enough to make your hands tremble?"
The older knight hesitated before speaking again, her jaw clenched. "For Her Highness's safety, I beg you to reconsider—"
That's when Kelly felt it. A shift.
The air thickened. Something suffocating, crushing, soul-shaking radiated from the Celestial Maiden. It wasn't just pressure—it was terror given form. Kelly's heart skipped a beat, her breath caught in her throat, and before she could think, her knees slammed to the ground. Her limbs trembled, and her voice broke into shallow, uncontrollable whimpers.
Whatever she was feeling—this dread, this choking weight—it wasn't normal. It was ancient. Deep. Cold. Like death itself had passed its judgment on her.
The Celestial Maiden took a single step forward.
Just one step—and Kelly nearly blacked out. Bones popped under the sheer force of the aura pressing against her. She bit down hard to keep from screaming, her face twisted in pain as tears welled up uncontrollably.
"What insolence," the Celestial Maiden thundered. Her voice boomed like a storm across the plains, and the sound alone sent a jolt through Kelly's body. Blood spilled from her lips as the sonic force crashed into her, and this time, the tears flowed freely. It hurt. Everywhere.
Maybe she should've taken her chances with the monsters.
The noble, serene mask the Maiden once wore was gone—twisted now into something wild and unhinged. Feral. It was almost impossible to reconcile with the calm grace she'd held before.
But then again, Kelly thought with a wince, maybe this Celestial bitch wasn't all that sane to begin with.
Kelly slowly lifted her head and saw the older Knight's body hanging in midair. The proud, haughty look was gone—replaced by pure terror.
"Have mercy, Celestial! I have sinned!" she screamed.
But the Celestial Maiden just stared coldly. Most of the women nearby had gathered around, avoiding her gaze, heads bowed low in fear.
"A peasant like you thinks she can overrule Her Majesty's judgment? What makes you so confident, worm?" the Celestial Maiden said, taking a step forward.
That step hit Kelly like a punch. Blood burst out of her mouth in torrents, and her vision started to fade.
A smile curled at the Celestial Maiden's lips—friendly, almost adorable—but Kelly wasn't fooled. If anything, that smile only made the trembling in her limbs worse.
"But don't worry, peasant," the Maiden said, her voice calm again, like when she first appeared. "As punishment, I'll start by crushing your bones."
Behind Kelly, a series of sickening cracks echoed. She turned in horror to see the Knight's joints and bones twisting into impossible angles, followed by a scream that chilled her to the bone.
Yet the Celestial Maiden's grin only grew wider, like someone playing their favorite game and loving every moment of it.
"And because I'm fair," she continued, "I'll drain you of your blood."
Kelly watched in horror as blood burst from the Knight's mouth like a fountain. Some splattered on her, the metallic scent making her want to retch.
Kelly closed her eyes, the crushing pressure from the Celestial Maiden already making her mind blur.
"Oh, you're already dead," the Maiden said, her voice tinged with disappointment. "You broke so easily. I expected you to last longer. But then, that's what worms do."
Kelly took a deep breath and silently cursed her terrible luck. A Knight from their tribe had been killed so easily just because she came off as rude—she couldn't even imagine what fate awaited a pureblood like her.
Suddenly, the forest monsters didn't seem so terrifying anymore.
Her mind began to fail her, the grip she had on consciousness slipping. The last thing she heard was the echo of footsteps, and with eyes full of resentment, she let herself fall unconscious, quietly reflecting on her life choices.