Red and green decorations hung on the inn's sign. Though small, the place radiated warmth. Allen didn't hesitate to rent a room here.

"Two single rooms. Miss, that'll be eight silver coins," the barmaid said from the counter. She wiped a wooden mug while greeting Allen and Ken.

"If you want a bath, just let me know. Someone will bring water up soon." She dropped one cup and grabbed another, still wiping. The tiny inn buzzed with life. A few drunkards snored soundly. Others nibbled free white bread, planning to linger all day.

"Yes, I'd like a bath now!" Allen hadn't washed in five days. She felt grimy and awful. Honestly, before Demon Castle, she hadn't cared about baths. But she'd gotten used to daily showers—they felt nice. Now, after days without one, she was miserable.

"Ah, okay, miss. I'll call you when it's ready. Wait here a bit." Then, in a flash, her tired tone vanished. "Hey! Old Kurt! Heat the water now!!" Her sudden shout shocked Allen and Ken. She flipped moods faster than turning a page... but whatever.

"Miss... pardon my bluntness... your clothes... shouldn't you change them? They're covered in cuts..." the barmaid suggested awkwardly.

Allen finally noticed. Her battle-torn outfit hung in tatters. The worst was her abdomen—a stab wound. Though bandaged, a large hole gaped in her shirt, stained dark red with dried blood.

Ken wasn't much better. His clothes were shredded from fighting the bandit leader. But his Frenzy had kept him unharmed. Allen felt a pang of resentment. Back in her prime, her crimson Frenzy had reached saintly levels. Now, she looked pathetic.

"Ken, let's buy new clothes after bathing. Then we'll go out," Allen declared. She wasn't poor—she'd lifted over ten gold coins from Lilith. Enough to splurge for days. A trace of guilt flickered. Was this stealing?

She shook her head. It's one month's wages! No guilt needed! She's the Dark Lord; I'm the Hero. It's only fair! Allen thought to herself. Ken stared at her, utterly confused.

What's wrong with Master?!

"Master?!" He waved a hand before her eyes. Allen snapped back.

"Ah! Nothing! Just daydreaming!" she replied quickly.

Suspicious... but whatever, Ken thought.

"Let's buy clothes," Allen said.

They wandered the street and picked a random shop. Faced with racks of clothes, Allen froze with indecision. The bald shopkeeper chattered nonstop beside her, but she heard nothing. Honestly, every outfit was lovely—especially on her—but she couldn't choose.

Ken pretended to admire the "scenery," though there was none indoors. He just avoided looking. The shopkeeper droned on.

After endless nagging, Allen snapped. "Fine! I'll buy it! Just stop!"

She'd planned to grab simple men's wear. But the shopkeeper refused to let her.

"Miss! Trust me—try this one! I guarantee you'll look stunning! Don't touch those weird outfits! They'd ruin your beauty!" He raved like a fanatic.

Helpless, Allen bought the pushed item: a black dress. It overflowed with lace and layered ruffles. The set was thorough—headpiece, socks, shoes, even tiny accessories. It looked gorgeous... but Allen disliked it. She preferred light clothes. She packed the new outfit into the shop's free box. Ken, a head shorter, dutifully carried it.

Ken chose plain clothes simply. The shopkeeper said nothing—likely mistaking him for a servant—and packed them.

"Four gold coins," the shopkeeper announced.

"The dress is three gold. The gentleman's set is one gold and eighty silver."

Women's clothes are so expensive! Allen thought. That drained her coins fast.

Truthfully, it wasn't overpriced. The dress was the shop's treasure—handmade by him. Few suited its style, so it never sold. Now he'd found its owner and wouldn't let her escape. That's why he'd pushed it nonstop.

"Here." Allen handed him four gold coins.

"Lady paying?~" the shopkeeper teased, skeptical.

"Yes," Allen nodded quietly.

Ken's face flushed red like an apple—ashamed and embarrassed. He'd followed Allen on impulse, forgetting his purse. He just stood there, blushing.

Finally outside, they rushed back to the inn for baths. They barely noticed the bustling streets.

Back at the inn, dinner time neared. They headed to separate rooms with their bathwater.

Allen coiled her long silver hair into a tight bun to keep it dry. She sank into the wooden tub, savoring the water's warmth. Steam filled the small room, hazy and soft. A hint of blush finally colored her pale cheeks. Relaxed by the heat, she let out soft, involuntary sounds.

"Mmm... mmm~" She seemed blissful.

After a long while, Allen felt ready. She scrubbed her body thoroughly, then washed her hair in a basin. Time to dry off and dress.

While undressing earlier, she'd ignored her scars. Now, drying off, she saw them clearly. Shallow sword cuts had scabbed over. Even the stab wound on her abdomen had scabbed—but the scar looked swollen, inflamed. This was bad...

No herbs meant infection risk. It could turn deadly. With no medicine, Allen gritted her teeth. She tore off a fresh bandage strip and wrapped it tight.

"Ugh... hiss—" Pain shot through her. It felt like salt on the wound. Tears welled in her eyes.

After wrapping, the pain eased slightly. She put on the new dress, unsure how it'd look. Given this body's original owner's looks, it should suit her. Allen imagined it. She undid her braid, letting silver hair fall loose. Then she tied two ribbons she always carried into butterfly clips.

She glanced down. Her small chest meant she could still see her feet. The black gothic dress draped elegantly, layered with ruffles. It was beautiful. She tugged the fabric—it felt thick and sturdy, truly a shop treasure. The material alone cost at least one gold coin. Its warmth could carry her through the Ice Festival. Under the skirt, bloomers and thick cotton stockings kept her cozy. Comfortable, she smoothed the dress, checked for flaws, and headed downstairs with her old knight's robe.

"Miss, are you looking for someone?" the clerk by the stairs asked.

The dress was so elegant, she must look like a noble's daughter?!

"Ah, no. Could you wash this robe? I need it tomorrow morning," Allen replied.

She tossed the folded battle robe to him. He gasped at the slashes and bloodstains. What had she done—robbed a tomb?! He shuddered but stayed quiet. "No problem. I'll have it ready by morning," he said politely.

"Thank you very much." Allen lifted her skirt and curtsied...

Wait! No! That curtsy was purely feminine! Allen froze in shock. This was terrifying—even her gestures were changing! The dress was subtly influencing her mind, making her act like this.

Panicked, she bolted downstairs. The clerk sat bewildered on his chair. He scratched his head, gave up, and stared blankly after storing the robe.

BAM!

Allen shoved the door open hard. The noisy common room fell silent. Every eye locked on her. Allen instantly felt awful—her forehead grew slightly warm, her eyes stung. Embarrassment hit hard. Among them sat Ken, watching a card game.

So beautiful! Everyone was stunned. During the Ice Festival, people wore their finest—but this level of elegance was rare.

Ken blinked, then quickly composed himself.

"Master?!" he asked, puzzled.

"Hmm..." Allen felt awkward. Was changing clothes really such a big deal?!

"What are they doing? Looks fun?" Ken confirmed it was her, then casually pointed at the card players.

Burly men huddled around a table, silver coins stacked as bets. Clearly gambling.

Is this kid a gambler too?! Allen thought.

No! I must correct him!

"Oh! They're selling souls and coins. Never join them! Walk with me instead!" Allen grabbed Ken's arm and yanked him out.

Ken looked dazed, scratched his head, but followed.

The crowd instantly looked away, returning to their games.

"Kensi! Your turn!" a bearded man shouted.

"Oh, right!"

They hurried out, ignoring everyone inside.

"Master? You look so beautiful now!" Ken said awkwardly, making conversation.

"Ah, thanks~" Allen smiled.

Wait! This feeling of accepting praise is wrong! Allen panicked again...

"Snow?! Is it snowing again?!!" Ken cried.

"Yeah..."

Feathery snowflakes drifted down. The Ice Festival night had begun.