“Master, examination complete.
Your body shows no qualitative difference from an ordinary human’s.” 0083 floated in the air, and the health status it projected before Lara showed no abnormalities — and yet Lara had never once experienced a menstrual cycle.
“So…
am I even still a woman?” The question was too shameful for words.
Lara’s face flushed red as a baboon’s backside as she forced it out through gritted teeth.
“From a physiological standpoint, you are classified as a human female.
Due to the absorption of information from demons and monsters, your menstrual cycle requires external stimulation in order to occur.” ?
For someone who had never even been with a man, this topic was far too intense.
Lara’s mental HP was instantly sent to the bottom of the ocean.
She transformed into a Steam Princess and flopped face-down on the bed — though this news was undoubtedly good for her.
No monthly woes meant daily life would be considerably more convenient.
She stopped thinking about it.
Lara buried her face in the cotton-stuffed pillow, trying to become an ostrich and flee from everything she didn’t want to confront…
Halfway between sleep and waking, a white-haired loli sat atop Lara.
Fingers like pale scallion stalks slid down from her collarbone, finally coming to rest on her lower abdomen.
Five fingers spiraled and pressed inward — and a strange sensation pierced through Lara’s body.
It was magic power.
She was using magic power to give Lara a massage!
“Don’t…” The never-before-felt sensation made Lara let out an involuntary soft moan.
Thud.
A sharp sound rang out.
Lara’s forehead made intimate contact with the floor, one leg still draped over the edge of the bed.
She propped herself up and opened bleary eyes.
The memory still lingered in her mind, and heat rushed up her cheeks.
Damn.
At the edge of the small town, beside a stream.
Lara was scrubbing her undergarments by hand.
She never could have imagined that a single day of rest would send her mind wandering like this.
Her memories of the previous night were hazy at best, and she was doing her utmost not to revisit them — yet the items in her hands kept reminding her of the truth.
After washing them clean, she extracted the moisture with magic to dry them, packed the clothes away, returned to the inn to collect her things, and put on her armor.
Coming downstairs, the landlady was still preparing breakfast.
Guests staying here temporarily generally chose to order directly at the inn.
When the landlady saw Lara come downstairs in full armor, surprise spread across her face.
“Didn’t you say you were resting here for a few days?
How are you already suited up?” Looking at the landlady’s concerned expression, Lara felt a twinge of embarrassment and could only stammer out a reply.
“Something urgent came up that needs handling.” She said a hurried goodbye to the landlady and set out on the northward road once more.
This time, however, things were different.
She wasn’t heading straight for Oisaster.
To the north of Wendelan Town lay several smaller towns and cities, and traveling through them offered a good chance of running into the Hero’s party on their return journey.
That’s right — before heading to the Association, she wanted to see Frieren first.
Lara walked along her planned route.
The wind across the plains carried the dry, sun-warmed scent of grass, sweeping past the tips of her hair.
She carried a pack that wasn’t too heavy, her steps slow and steady.
Iron-soled boots struck the packed earth, and her armor let out a monotonous yet oddly reassuring clank.
The horizon stretched before her, seemingly without end — only the occasional bird sweeping overhead and distant sheep grazing in the fields broke the vast silence.
It was simple, and it was open.
Several days later, the edge of the plain began to blur, replaced by rolling hills and scattered farmland.
A small village appeared in her field of view.
Crude wooden houses clustered around a well and a small shrine housing some unnamed stone idol.
The villagers watched the silent traveler with curious eyes — curiosity mixed with a faint, instinctive wariness of the outside world.
Lara simply gave a slight nod, bought some dried provisions at the only stall by the village entrance, and continued on her way.
Pressing forward, the hills gradually merged into a sweep of dark green, and a vast forest came into view.
Right beside the enormous shadow cast by the forest, a city slowly revealed its outline.
City walls built from mottled grey stone, spired towers etching slender lines against the sunset, a massive gate swallowing and disgorging streams of people.
Lara moved through the crowd like a silent stone, letting the roaring wind batter her from all sides.
At a crowded street corner, a figure slammed hard into Lara — considerable force, and obvious malice.
She didn’t even sway; her body deflected the impact naturally.
But the strap of her bag went suddenly slack in her hand, and she understood in an instant what had happened.
Her eyes sharpened.
She spun around and immediately locked onto the slight figure trying to slip into the crowd — a half-grown child, not a trace of panic on his face, who even turned and pulled a face at her.
“Tch.” Lara couldn’t help clicking her tongue.
She’d been underestimated.
The armor did nothing to slow Lara’s movements.
Two quick strides brought her behind him, and she seized him by the scruff of his neck.
“Huh?!” The little brat’s face was a picture of disbelief.
“Hey!
What are you doing!” Two shifty-looking young men immediately jumped out from nearby — clearly accomplices there to run interference.
She grabbed the thief by the collar with one hand and hoisted him into the air, then turned to face the two accomplices, her other hand resting on the hilt of the sword at her back, ready at any moment.
“Want to die?” Lara’s voice was low, almost without inflection — yet it cut cleanly through the surrounding noise.
The two thugs had just moved to close in when they were met with Lara’s ice-cold words.
That heavy armor stood like a pillar amid the crowd, and an invisible pressure — like a tangible wave of cold — instantly washed over them.
It was the primal, biological instinct that recognizes danger.
The two thugs froze mid-step.
Their bravado deflated like a punctured balloon, leaving only a sliver of fear.
They unconsciously stepped back.
“Stand aside — everyone stand aside, stop what you’re doing.” A figure dressed like a city guard squeezed through the crowd, eyes sweeping the scene.
He first furrowed his brow and shot a glare at the two thugs who were trying to slink away.
Then his gaze locked firmly onto Lara — lingering a moment on her high-quality armor — before finally landing on the small thief dangling from her hand, thrashing about wildly like a round-headed little creature.
“Fighting in the street?
Disturbing the peace?” The guard put on a stern face, his voice carrying the stiff authority of officialdom, pointing at Lara.
“An outsider who doesn’t know the rules?
What do you think you’re doing, grabbing someone like that?
Do you know this warrants a ‘public disturbance fine’?” His eyes held an unmistakable undercurrent — faint but plain — of greed.
“Let him go, then come with me to the security office for a chat.
Or…” He dragged out the end of his sentence, his thumb and index finger unconsciously rubbing together.
The implication was clear.
Lara looked at the guard’s face — that calculating expression hiding beneath a veneer of officialdom — then glanced at the limp little thief in her hand.
She was silent for a few seconds.
The cold calm in her eyes seemed to deepen.
She pulled her hand back from the sword hilt and retrieved her belongings from the thief’s pocket — less than thirty silver coins.
Then she loosened her grip and let him drop to the ground.
The two thugs rushed forward, each grabbing one of his arms to break his fall, not even pausing to straighten the clothes Lara had disheveled, and hurriedly retreated to one side.
The conflict had now shifted entirely to Lara and the guard.
In her armor, Lara stood close to one meter eighty — a full head taller than the guard.
She stood before him, looking down from above.
At such close range, the guard could glimpse, through the gaps in her armor, her eyes: cold, and carrying a breath of death.
Since taking this posting, he had almost never encountered an attitude this unyielding.
His mind went blank; he stood rigid on the spot.
“If you want it, come outside the city.
I’ll give it to you there.” With that, Lara turned away without another glance at the guard and walked off.
The enormous pressure left the guard motionless as a stone statue, his throat bobbing, unable to produce a single syllable.
He could only watch helplessly as her tall figure parted the crowd and strode in long, purposeful steps toward the city gate.
By the time he came to his senses, Lara had already passed through the massive city gate unchallenged and quickly disappeared down the road leading into the forest outside the city.
Of course she wasn’t going to stay and deal with the fallout.
A wise person knows when not to fight.
PS: Apart from the figure, Shana is probably the closest match to the main character’s image.
Yun’ana’s figure is genuinely something else.
I’ll look for some armor reference pictures tomorrow.
When I was writing I pictured the hero’s armor from The Devil is a Part-Timer!, but that armor is a bit small and lacks presence — though the helmet design is very good and worth referencing.