Perhaps because Calamitas's sprinting momentum was simply too tyrannical,
Violent gale-force vortexes continuously formed in the air around her.
As they spawned, they whipped up heaps of splintered timber, broken branches, dry leaves, and jagged stones trailing her feet.
Spraying outward in all directions like a hail of ammunition fired from a roaring Gatling gun.
While Calamitas enjoyed the pure exhilaration of her run, every living creature within a hundred-meter radius along her path met absolute catastrophe.
Whether birds and wild hares, roe deer and stags, wolves and leopards, or even unlucky bandits taking a morning stroll in the brush to relieve themselves, all were ruthlessly peppered into bloody honeycombs by the shrapnel kicked up in her wake, collapsing in gory ruin.
The few fortunate enough to survive lay writhing in the dirt with severed limbs, groaning in sheer agony.
Naturally, Calamitas couldn't care less about any of it.
Having charged across dozens of miles in a dead-straight line, plowing uninterrupted through winding rivers, boundless plains, and sheer mountain crags,
She finally laid eyes on Black Soil Town resting at the foot of towering peaks just a few miles out.
Easing her pace, Calamitas slipped into a leisurely stroll, approaching with an amused, easygoing gait.
...
In the early morning hours.
Warm sunlight washed over Black Soil Town's weathered low walls, slowly awakening the clamor and vitality inside and out.
The high town gates creaked open, welcoming the flow of travelers and merchants coming and going.
Inside, a broad bluestone avenue cut straight through the town from south to north, flanked by tightly clustered rows of taverns, storefronts, residences, and guardposts.
Shopkeepers and stall vendors laid out a dazzling array of wares and hung up banners, bustling to welcome the morning foot traffic.
Some peddled clothing, porcelain, rouge, and ornaments; others offered hot food, chilled tea, fine wine, and medicinal herbs.
Porters carrying cargo chests trudged through with swinging gaits, while shop attendants spilled onto the streets, plastering on bright smiles to hawk their goods at the top of their lungs:
"Century-old recipe vermicelli soup! Vegetarian broth three coppers, pork seven coppers, mutton ten coppers! Authentic heritage flavor..."
"Crispy candied fruit pastries, eight coppers a catty, eight coppers a catty..."
"Braised chicken feet, plump and tender, perfectly sour and spicy! Eight coppers a catty! Only eight coppers..."
"Iced herbal tea, chilled snow-brew tonic! Refreshing iced tea..."
"Hot flatbreads, fresh out of the oven! Get your flatbreads here..."
"Candied hawthorns! Sweet candied hawthorns on a stick~"
For a brief moment, the chatter of the crowds, laughter of children, and cries of street vendors filled the thoroughfare, weaving together a lively tapestry of bustling marketplace life.
Right at that moment, an apocalyptic, soul-shriveling aura of pure malevolence crashed down without warning, blanketing the entire avenue and every living soul upon it.
In an instant, the townsfolk felt as though dark, crimson-laced storm clouds had swallowed the sun, plunging the world into sudden gloom.
In that breath, several thousand people packing the avenue felt as though blades and hellfire pressed against their skin, as if the gaze of the Underworld itself was fixed upon their souls.
Wide-eyed and frozen stiff, waves of primal terror and despair flooded their hearts.
This terror tightened like invisible cords, binding their flesh and souls in absolute paralysis.
Suffocating them so completely they could neither flinch nor utter a single scream of horror.
As if time had stopped and space had frozen solid, the vibrant, chaotic bluestone street ground to an instantaneous halt.
Amidst this swelling, suffocating dread, a bronze-skinned titan standing nearly two-point-four meters tall, built like an iron fortress with wild blood-red hair, barefoot, bare-chested with only ragged cloth bound around her waist, and eyes blazing with violet-azure light, strode leisurely through the town gates.
Her entrance instantly pushed the crowd's terror to its absolute zenith.
Every pair of eyes widened in wordless despair and bewilderment.
Despair at the monstrosity's unfathomable pressure; confusion over what manner of demon had descended upon them.
Indeed, not a single soul believed this titan was human; without exception, they were convinced an ancient, man-eating greater demon had arrived.
And right as the townsfolk were drowning in their despair, they realized with growing horror...
Though massive as a mountain, the titan moved with uncanny, fluid grace, like an apex tiger lazily padding through its domain, fearlessly inspecting its territory.
STEP ~ STEP ~ STEP ~
Yet each quiet, phantom-like step landed with the weight of an anvil on their hearts, impossible for anyone to ignore.
And this two-point-four-meter titan was none other than Calamitas.
Wearing a predatory, tiger-like grin on her inhuman face, she lazily swung her massive arms, swaggering barefoot down the bluestone street.
As if sensing her arrival, the usually packed and noisy avenue was remarkably well-behaved.
Deathly silent, and completely wide open.
Wide open?
Yes, wide open.
Because anyone who happened to be standing in Calamitas's path tapped into their deepest survival instincts before she even drew near, leaping frantically aside and diving several meters clear of her way.
And so, under the terrified gazes of the onlookers, Calamitas unhurriedly made her way toward the heart of Black Soil Town as if no one else existed.
After strolling about a thousand meters, she suddenly paused, looking down with mild curiosity at a street stall.
This stall sold neither food nor wine, nor cosmetics, but rather stacks of new and weathered pulp romance novels.
"Hmm, let's see what we have here."
Glancing down, Calamitas saw the stall packed with lurid, boldly illustrated erotic novellas with titles like "Flowers Bloom and Wither: A Dream Amidst the Blossoms", "Tears of Rouge in the Brothel Chambers", "My Trysts with the Courtesan", "Star-Crossed Lovers: The Tragic Scholar's Romance", "Courtly Romances of the Previous Dynasty", "Romantic Tales of Passionate Lovers", "Devastating Beauty: The Sorrows of a Siren", "The Drifting Swordsman: Shattered Peach Blossoms", "Flowing Waters and Willow Down: Passions of the Realm", "Hall of Painted Passions: Cloudside Fairy Realm", "Dreamlike Moonlight, Jade-Boned Charm", "Melodies of the Fairy Amidst the Blossoms", "Drifting Jade Soul: A Mournful Song", "The Celestial Maiden's Earthly Canvas Dream", and countless other salacious titles.
"What a... chaotic pile of trash."
Putting the book back down, Calamitas chuckled to herself. "It seems the [Earth Imprint] phenomenon isn't exclusive to the String Swarm; it actually manifests even here in the Desolate Ancient Swarm, across infinitely vast cosmic distances."
"String... Desolate Ancient..."
Stroking her chin with thick fingers, Calamitas mused, "It is very likely that the countless Swarms across the entire boundless Creeping Sea... all fall within the coverage and influence of the [Earth Imprint]."
"So is this bizarre phenomenon a natural occurrence, or manufactured? If manufactured, what unfathomable tier does the mastermind sit at?"
As thoughts turned in her mind, she casually took a novel and strolled toward the center of Black Soil Town.
In her hazy memories, adjacent to the Town Lord's Mansion sat a repository resembling an archive vault, which likely housed local historical records.
Black Soil Town was the largest and most ancient settlement within hundreds of miles, boasting convenient river transport and heavy vessel traffic along the waterway; its local gazetteer was bound to contain worthwhile intel.
STEP ~ STEP ~ STEP ~
As Calamitas's figure receded into the distance, the crushing aura blanketing the bluestone avenue gradually dissolved into nothingness.
Instantly, the thousands of people frozen stiff across the street were released from the paralysis.
The moment normal function returned, dozens collapsed unconscious from sheer exhaustion and terror.
Countless others scrambled on trembling legs, wailing and screaming for their parents as they scattered in blind panic.
In their desperate flight, they shrieked at the top of their lungs: "Monster! It's a monster! A man-eating demon has invaded the town!"
In an instant, the thoroughfare exploded into chaos once more.
But this time there were neither laughs nor vendor cries, only raw terror and frantic stamps.
Merchants abandoned their wares; patrons forgot their change.
Everyone only cursed themselves for not having two extra legs to run faster.
"Such heavy murderous intent... completely inhuman!"
Amidst the fleeing crowd, a pale, middle-aged man in Taoist robes with catfish whiskers, holding a divination banner, murmured under his breath, "Yet there was zero demonic qi; they clearly isn't a demon, but a genuine human being! In fact... even demons aren't this ferocious!
But a human... how could a human be this terrifying?! Even the legendary titans who dominate the martial world pale in comparison to them!
Whew~ What happened today will surely sweep through the murim. I wonder how the renowned heroes and champions across the realm will react. A grand spectacle is about to unfold."
At this point, the catfish-whiskered Taoist's gaze darkened as he muttered in a low, frustrated sigh: "What a stroke of foul luck! With such a terrifying god of wrath loitering here, how am I supposed to raise my ghosts?
Tonight is the exact night the ghost formation matures. If I relocate and set everything up from scratch... who knows how long that will take."
Even as he grumbled, he was utterly unwilling to abandon the intricate preparations he had labored over for so long.
Gritting his teeth, he steeled his resolve: "Forget it! Wealth and power favor the bold. I'll just keep the disturbance to a minimum so that monster won't notice. Yes, that's what I'll do!"
Having made up his mind, he gripped his divination banner and slipped into the panicking crowd.
A light breeze fluttered the cloth of his banner, revealing two lines of bold calligraphy:
"Yin and Yang across the cosmos are elusive to glean,"
"Fortune and woe throughout a lifetime are seldom foreseen."
...
While the townsfolk scrambled in every direction to flee, Calamitas, having reached the town archives, was once again taken aback by the book in her hands.
Because this book... was undoubtedly a pulp Wuxia rendition of "Dragonblood".
Its title was... "The Swordsman: Winds and Clouds of the Cosmos".
The text recounted the legendary saga of the Desolate Realm champion Kael, who rose amidst chaotic times to claim the realm as sovereign over all mortals, uniting the martial heroes of the East, West, South, North, and Central to repel the Mercury Race invading from an extradimensional Demon Realm.
Isn't this... literally a variant of "Dragonblood"?
Except adapted into a slightly offbeat Wuxia flavor.
Calamitas couldn't help but sigh, "It's been so long since I paid attention to "Dragonblood", yet here it is again... clinging like a shadow."
In her previous life, because of that original "Dragonblood" work, she had constantly regarded the Shadow of the Unreal as her ultimate hypothetical nemesis.
Yet as time passed and she grew stronger, powerful enough to treat the vast cosmos as mere child's play, she had gradually dismissed that hypothetical foe, unconsciously assuming that the cosmos-devouring Shadow of the Unreal was perhaps nothing extraordinary after all.
But today, finding "Dragonblood" resurfacing in an entirely different Swarm, did this imply... that the 'four directions and all eons of the cosmos' devoured by the Shadow of the Unreal wasn't just a simple 3D universe?
"Looking at it this way, I'll need to redouble my efforts."
Shaking off her thoughts, Calamitas raised a finger, casually tore open the archive's heavy palm-wood doors, and strode inside.
Stepping into the aged, dimly lit storeroom, Calamitas peered through the floating motes of dust and spotted five or six tall bookshelves.
Walking over slowly, she casually pulled a tome from the shelves.
Flipping through it, she found it contained local ordinances, territorial maps, and household registries for Black Soil Town.
"Useless."
THUD~
She tossed it carelessly to the floor.
Reaching out, Calamitas pulled another volume from the shelf.
Skimming a few pages,
She found it held nothing but records of taxes and corvée labor.
"Useless."
THUD~
She dropped it to the ground once more.
Over the next moments, Calamitas tore through dozens of books, only to find township maps, census archives, literary essays, dictionaries, poetic classics, and arithmetic collections, all entirely worthless to her.
Only when she reached the innermost bookshelf in the vault did she finally locate the Black Soil Town county gazetteer.
RUSTLE RUSTLE——
Flipping through dozens of pages,
And skimming past lengthy, irrelevant passages detailing Black Soil Town's mundane history, Calamitas finally struck what she was looking for:
Explicit documentation regarding supernatural entities and strange spirits.
This brief excerpt of barely a dozen pages bore a distinct title——"Records and Investigations of Anomalous Entities".
Finding what she wanted, Calamitas pulled up a reclining wooden chair, leaned back against the frame, and read at her leisure.
The opening chapter proclaimed in bold calligraphy:
"All things possess spirit; humanity is but one."
The text then laid out the premise that beyond humanity, this boundless world was inhabited by four anomalous classifications: Ghosts, Monstrosities, Demons, and Spirits.
Among them, Ghosts were defined as the overarching term for lingering souls and ethereal remnants born after the death of humans or objects.
Anomalous manifestations condensed from departed spirits and shadow souls after mortal demise or material destruction.
Divided into three categories, Human-born Ghosts, Object-born Ghosts, and Corpse Ghosts.
As for specifics, the text noted that execution specters created from decapitations and waist-severing, alongside the vengeful hanging specters born of suicidal grudges, all fell under Human-born Ghosts.
The lantern ghosts and straw-raincoat phantoms occasionally seen drifting at midnight belonged to Object-born Ghosts.
Corpse Ghosts, meanwhile, referred to zombies and the undead, formed when a dying soul held a knot of unspent resentment trapped in the throat, drawing in pure yin and gathering murderous qi.
A zombie was a mortal whose breath had failed to fully expire, fermenting into a catastrophic blight under external corruption.
Meanwhile, [Monstrosities] had nothing to do with ghosts, gods, or demons, referring instead to bizarre, inexplicable occurrences and unfathomable anomalies.
Regarding such eerie phenomena, the text recorded an ancient folklore tale native to Black Soil Town.
Or more accurately, an event that had unfolded in a village just outside Black Soil Town.
Many years ago, an old woodcutter living in a village dozens of miles south of the town went alone into the deep mountains to gather firewood on a summer day.
Mid-chop, a sudden torrential downpour struck.
Seeking shelter from the rain, he hurried into an uncharted mountain cave.
Venturing deep into the cavern, the old woodcutter discovered a single Flesh Lotus blooming within the dark.
Stepping closer, he was stunned to find the Flesh Lotus brimming with glittering gold, silver, and precious treasures.
Overjoyed at his sudden fortune,
The woodcutter stripped off his upper clothing, fashioned it into a makeshift sack, and scooped every piece of treasure out of the lotus into the bundle.
Once the storm passed, he hauled his treasure home.
Seeing the mountain of gold and silver, his elderly wife immediately questioned where it had come from.
The woodcutter explained that the treasure had been harvested from a Flesh Lotus deep within a mountain cavern.
Yet his wife grew suspicious.
She pointed out that in the sweltering heat of summer, he never wore a shirt when gathering firewood, so where had the clothes wrapping this treasure come from?
The old woodcutter paused, baffled, admitting that in the dead heat of summer, he indeed never wore an upper garment into the woods.
Perplexed, he looked down at the bundle in his hands, only to discover that the cloth was a fresh sheet of bloody human skin.
Instantly, the woodcutter's own body was flayed into a skinned corpse; howling in unspeakable agony, he collapsed to the ground, thrashing for two or three breaths before going completely stiff, his soul returning to the Yellow Springs.
As the bloody human skin hit the dirt, the gold and silver within scattered across the floor, revealed as raw, dripping viscera: heart, liver, spleen, lungs, and kidneys.
His wife fainted in sheer horror on the spot; waking up hopelessly mad, she spent the rest of her days babbling to passersby never to touch the treasures of mountain caves, lest doom befall them.
"This doesn't read like a ghost story so much as a cautionary moral fable, take money that isn't yours, and suffer a fate worse than death."
Stroking her chin, Calamitas continued reading down the text.
The remaining pages of "Records and Investigations of Anomalous Entities" briefly cataloged various supernatural incidents and bizarre phenomena recorded across Black Soil Town and neighboring hamlets over the past several centuries.
There were no narrative details, only barebones entries.
Running the numbers across these records, Calamitas noted that for a region spanning barely a few hundred miles encompassing Black Soil Town and its hamlets, supernatural anomalies occurred at an average frequency of three to four cases per year.
Rough calculations showed that across several centuries, the total barely cracked a thousand incidents.
And that was across a radius of merely a few hundred miles.
Expanding that scope to thousands or tens of thousands of miles across a dynastic reign of centuries, wouldn't that equate to over a hundred thousand supernatural events?
"Tsk tsk... the mortals of this world live a rather miserable existence, running into ghosts at every turn."
After a casual sigh, Calamitas let out a hearty laugh, "Then again, a world crawling with all manner of demons, ghosts, and fiends is far more entertaining."
When thought through, even a high frequency of supernatural occurrences amounted to very little.
Even if each incident claimed ten lives, centuries of accumulation amounted to a mere few million casualties.
From Calamitas's perspective, such numbers were negligible in the extreme.
She continued reading further down.
According to "Records and Investigations of Anomalous Entities", beyond Ghosts and Monstrosities, the world harbored Demons and Spirits.
Demons were split into two distinct branches:
Enchantress fiends and feral demon beasts.
The former referred to entities like Fox Spirits and Clam Maidens, who disguised themselves in illusory beauty to drain the Primordial Yang of unsuspecting mortals.
Traveling merchants, wandering scholars, and lonely travelers traversing the wild would occasionally cross paths with these enchantresses in secluded spots, ensnared by demonic arts and hollowed of their vital essence until dying of pure exhaustion.
Following death, their corpses were often flayed, stripped of sinew, and devoured clean.
The latter comprised wild beasts and livestock that had awakened spiritual sapience and dissolved the transverse bone in their throats.
This breed was far more savage than cunning enchantresses, inveterate maneaters, without a single benevolent soul among them.
Any mortal crossing paths with them would be swallowed alive and chewed to the marrow, with not a splinter of bone left behind.
However, true demon beasts were exceptionally rare, typically surfacing only within deep, primeval mountains shrouded in eternal mist.
The final category: Spirits.
Specifically, object spirits and sprites.
Sprites were inanimate, lifeless objects that had awakened spirit over vast stretches of time.
According to the text, everyday tools like brooms, dustpans, mops, washcloths, hoes, scythes, tables, and chairs gradually absorbed human vitality through prolonged daily handling.
So long as people continued using them, all remained peaceful and ordinary.
But once discarded with their physical frames intact, after sitting undisturbed for over a century, they would awaken spiritual consciousness and turn into mischievous, haunting entities.
Any everyday household implement that gained sapience was collectively known as an 'Old Specter', a subcategory of sprites.
As for other spirit varieties, "Records and Investigations of Anomalous Entities" offered no granular breakdowns, merely mentioning Jade Beauties, Tome Spirits, and Gold-and-Silver Sprites.
With that, the manuscript reached its end, concluding without further commentary.
"Ghosts, Monstrosities, Demons, and Spirits... how entertaining."
Casually tossing the gazetteer aside, Calamitas grinned with curiosity, "I'd love to catch a few to play with."
As she spoke, her extended senses perceived two or three individuals in official magistrate robes hesitating at the outer boundary of her aura a few miles out.
"Hmm, government officials? Looking to have a chat?"
Calamitas arched her brow, reeling in her sprawling, ferocious aura, and her entire countenance instantly turned 'gentle.'
Shifting from looking like an ancient, man-eating greater fiend into resembling a bloodthirsty maniac who had chopped down a hundred men, a massive improvement, all things considered.
At the very least, she looked human now.
...
A few miles out...
"Ah? The demonic haze has dispersed?"
"My Lord, shouldn't we reconsider? Walking straight in like this... isn't that walking directly into the tiger's maw? We could post bounties to summon masters from across the realm to exorcise the fiend! We can negotiate with the town's wealthy gentry..."
One fat, one thin, two subordinates frantically pleaded with a resolute, middle-aged man clad in black official robes.
This official was none other than the Town Warden of Black Soil Town, Zinai.
Waving his sleeve, he let out a heavy sigh: "Say no more. For this demon to fear neither broad daylight nor the sun, and to paralyze thousands in town with its mere aura, it must be a Demon King unseen in a thousand years. What ordinary master could ever hope to subdue it?
Thus, this magistrate shall personally step forward to negotiate with this Demon King. So long as it spares the citizens of Black Soil Town, all terms are on the table."
"If that is so, isn't Your Excellency walking toward certain death?"
The subordinate beside Zinai urged once more, "Why not hire some desperate drifters from outside town with heavy coin and send them in your stead..."
"Silence!"
Zinai furrowed his brow, snapping in stern rebuke, "Is my life precious while the lives of others are worthless?!"
Softening his expression, he gazed toward where the Demon King was holed up a few miles away, his tone righteous and unflinching: "This official draws an imperial stipend and bears the sacred duty of defending Black Soil Town; I must protect the people under my charge."
With a sweep of his robes, Zinai squared his posture, took a deep breath, and marched resolutely toward the archive vault.
As for his two subordinates, paralyzed by cowardice, they dared not advance a single step.
...
A hundred meters out...
STEP ~ STEP ~ STEP ~
Marching straight toward the vault, Zinai kept his footsteps steady, though the skin of his face was drawn so tight that blue veins bulged across his temples.
Though the oppressive, sky-blotting demonic haze that had barred all approach earlier had now fully dispersed,
He could still feel razor-sharp wisps of murderous intent circling him from all directions like tens of thousands of unsheathed steel blades.
Threatening at any split second to cleave down and chop him into mincemeat.
Even so, Zinai showed no hint of retreating; steeling himself against the creeping dread, he crossed the few miles and arrived at the entrance of the archive vault.
Standing outside the storeroom, now feeling every bit like a demon's lair, he drew a deep breath, straining to steady his racing pulse.
Then, taking firm, deliberate steps, he walked inside.
Barely five or six paces in, Zinai locked eyes with Calamitas, who sat sprawling grandly across the reclining chair.
Shock!
At the first glimpse of her face, the world spun wildly, and he nearly collapsed onto his rear.
'Heavens above... how could such a... such a horrifying countenance exist in this world?!'
On the verge of fainting, he pinched his inner thigh with brutal force to shock himself back to his senses.
Straightening up, he made a deep, respectful bow toward Calamitas.
Remaining bent in his bow, Zinai kept his head lowered and addressed her with utmost deference:
"Reporting to the Demon King: this humble official is Black Soil Town's Warden, Zinai, serving as magistrate to the local populace. May I inquire whether Your Majesty's visit to our humble town today is for a scenic excursion, or to partake in Blood Food?"
Hearing this, Calamitas arched an amused brow.
Demon King? Blood Food?
"Tsk, so he took me for a demon beast."
Finding the misunderstanding utterly hilarious, Calamitas bared her razor-sharp teeth in a broad grin, playing along with Zinai's words:
"And if I came for Blood Food, what do you propose?"
At those words, Zinai bowed deeply once more, replying with absolute earnestness:
"To inform Your Majesty: our town boasts a famous local specialty known as East River Mutton.
Its meat is renowned far and wide for its exquisite quality. Stewed in soup, the broth is milky white and the flesh tender without being greasy; eaten raw, it is delicately textured, richly flavorful, and free of any gamey odor.
Should Your Majesty desire, this official will mobilize the entire town's resources to offer herds of prime sheep for Your Majesty's feast."
"Ah, not bad. Unfortunately..."
Resting her chin in her hand, Calamitas remarked casually, "I don't eat mutton."
Hearing this, Zinai remained composed, bowing deeply once more as he continued respectfully:
"If Your Majesty dislikes mutton, our town can present six death-row convicts for Your Majesty's feast."
Calamitas let out a silent chuckle:
"Six, is it? Very well. But... what if I add you to the menu?"
Bent at the waist, Zinai stiffened for a split second before exhaling slowly, his voice deep and steady:
"Granted. This official only begs that after partaking in the Blood Food, the Demon King raises a merciful hand and spares the citizens of this town."
Having spoken, he began to pray in his heart.
Not praying for the demon to spare him, but praying it would uphold its word to the people.
Time seemed to freeze in that very breath.
Zinai's heart pounded like a war drum.
CLAP ~ CLAP ~ CLAP ~
Suddenly, crisp applause broke the silence of the storeroom.
Startled, Zinai looked up, only to find... the terrifying entity before him clapping her hands.
"Not bad."
Applauding a few more times, Calamitas chuckled, "A truly rare, honorable official. You have no need to worry; I am no man-eating demon beast, merely a wandering traveler passing through."
Huh? A human?!
Zinai's eyes went wide.
No matter which angle one looked at her... this being looked nothing like a human.
Setting aside the chaotic thoughts in his mind,
The realization that she had no appetite for human flesh washed over him with overwhelming relief, and he bowed deeply once more:
"That is wonderful! That is truly wonderful! Whoever Your Honor may be, so long as Your Honor stays in Black Soil Town, this official will provide the finest food and lodging. Should Your Honor require gold or silver, this official shall gather it from the town's wealthiest households!"
Zinai possessed only one thought at this moment.
Human, demon, or ghost mattered not, anyone capable of commanding such an earth-shattering aura was unquestionably a supreme master capable of upending the realm.
When dealing with an authentic peerless master, every demand had to be met with utmost compliance.
So long as the townsfolk remained unharmed, a little coin or dignity was completely negligible.
"Enough. There is no need for such excessive theatrics."
Calamitas slowly stood up, her towering head nearly brushing the roof beams. "When I return tonight, just prepare a banquet of fine wine and good food."
With that, her silhouette blurred and vanished from the storeroom in the blink of an eye.
Having reviewed the records, Calamitas decided to track down some demon beasts to pass the time.
And most importantly, locate that sword-riding elder from her host's memories.
Seeing Calamitas disappear into thin air, Zinai stood stunned for a moment before looking up, cupping his hands, and calling out reverently:
"As Your Honor commands! Tonight, this official shall lay out a grand feast of delicacies and vintage wine in the magistrate's hall, awaiting Your Honor's return!"