Amidst the lush, overgrown forest, a solitary steel structure rose beside the Eastward Path.
Its shape resembled a mushroom sprouting from the earth. The lower 'stem' had orderly rectangular openings, with cold gun barrels mounted inside, covering all eight directions. The massive upper 'cap' looked like a hat but served as living quarters.
This was a border outpost of the Eastern Pearl Empire—the Tree Spirit Forest Rest Station. Once a wartime sentinel, it now functioned merely as a rest stop, accommodating only nobles and merchants with continental trade permits. Alyssa’s noble status granted her entourage entry. That night, the group stayed at the Rest Station.
Weapons were banned on upper floors. Except for Horatu, the mercenaries camped beside the carriages, handing Alyssa’s protection to the station guards.
Dinnertime. Verlith and Alyssa left their room for the restaurant. They rode down in an artisan-crafted elevator.
Ding…
A soft chime signaled arrival. The doors slid open automatically.
A vast circular space greeted them. Soothing background music played first. Verlith, a competent intelligence officer, recognized the melody instantly—it came from a guzheng, the mythological piece "High Mountains and Flowing Water."
As she enjoyed the music, Verlith scanned the area. Elevators stood connected to VIP rooms. Floor-to-ceiling glass replaced walls, covering most of the restaurant. Through the ultra-thin windows, the night forest loomed in mysterious blackness, as if ready to swallow everything.
The layout reminded Verlith of a Northern Coalition complex’s top floor—though she rarely stayed there now. Few dined here; travelers in the Tree Spirit Forest were scarce, and Rest Station guests rarer. Most were dignified figures. Three or four moved gracefully between tables, politely yielding at the buffet. Others sat alone, savoring exquisite food and drinks.
Verlith, once the Northern Coalition’s First Knight, had attended many banquets. She disliked noisy crowds but wasn’t inexperienced like a sheltered maid. The sparse crowd made the space feel less formal.
Verlith fiddled with a strand of silver hair, wondering what to do. When deep in thought, she craved something to fiddle with—once a sword tassel, now her blade was lost somewhere. She was glad she wasn’t a mythological swordsman bound by "sword lives, man lives; sword dies, man dies." Forgetting your sword wouldn’t pile mountains of corpses. Dying again wasn’t easy for her. Her creed was to live strong—hating her fate but never choosing death, as it meant escape, not freedom. After hardship came enlightenment. Like in Journey to the West, life was mostly disappointments. Adapt first, then change. That was Verlith’s way. Now, she was Alyssa’s maid.
The meal was buffet-style. Verlith tried recalling Alyssa’s usual portions to deduce her preferences—a maid’s duty.
"What are you thinking about, Vier?" Alyssa chuckled, watching Vier mess up her smooth hair. She gently smoothed it for her.
The intimate gesture made Verlith awkward. She forced a stern face. "Miss Alyssa," she said formally, easing the tension. Unconsciously, she slipped into a male role. She didn’t know Alyssa saw her as a sister—such contact wasn’t intimate between girls.
"Would I have the honor of knowing your food preferences?" Many dazzling dishes were unfamiliar to Verlith. Counting Alyssa’s intake was brain-racking and inaccurate. Verlith decided to ask directly, like a knight. If Alyssa knew the First Knight treated maid duties like intel analysis, she’d be shocked.
"Anything is fine," Alyssa replied, not picky. "Except overly spicy food."
Verlith nodded knowingly and extended her hand. "As an elegant gentleman, I invite my mistress, Miss Alyssa, to dine with me."
"Vier, you’re so cute imitating boys!" Alyssa smiled, taking Vier’s soft hand. "Miss Alyssa, ‘cute’ isn’t for men," Verlith corrected, then froze. Her chest curves reminded her of her new identity.
"But cute boys do exist," Alyssa teased, pinching Verlith’s fair cheek.
"Oh dear, Alyssa, I’ll fetch the food," Verlith dodged the wandering hands and turned away. "Cute" reminded her of Ansal’s teasing in youth—back then, she could scold him. With Alyssa, she never could. Besides, she really was adorable. She pouted at the thought.
Local specialties filled the buffet; Verlith picked appetizing dishes. After loading a porcelain plate, she walked a quarter around the table.
Suddenly, a familiar figure appeared—Horatu, the so-called mercenary captain, also getting food. They bumped into each other. Horatu noticed her too. He sidestepped, his tall body blocking Verlith’s path.
