Fro hadn’t made a bet. Aelina felt a twinge of regret—she’d missed a chance to assert authority. If only she hadn’t hit his head so hard. She recalled several hollow tree stumps nearby and opened vents. Wind seeped into the pitch-black shelter. The unsettling clamor outside faded away. Safe at last, the Elf felt bone-deep exhaustion. She lay on the icy ground, wrapped in a thin cloak, and fell asleep.
“The Golden Ape has awakened.”
The next day, Aelina snapped out of standby mode. She opened her eyes to see the stiff Elf slowly rising. He shivered violently from the cold, breathing out a puff of white vapor. “So cold! Aelina, don’t you feel it in that skimpy outfit?”
Skimpy? She wore only a strapless dress, thick leather boots, and long leather gloves—meant to cover sensitive legs and arms. Oh, and underwear.
“Cold? I don’t feel it.” She’d never known cold.
“You’re in just a dress, showing collarbones and shoulders… One more thing—I hope you won’t hit my head again.”
“Go on.”
Fro turned away shyly, though darkness hid him. “Could you… make a bra and wear it?”
Aelina glanced down at her cloth-straining curves and their peaked tips. “I’ve never seen women here dress like this. Is it really that bad?”
“Yes.”
Thankfully, leftover cloth and leather remained. Those heavy breasts were uncomfortable—jiggling wildly when she ran. She needed a bra. She crafted one, turned her back to Fro, and dismantled her dress to slip it on. When the bra firmly lifted her chest, she felt a strange, subtle sense of security.
She also heard Fro’s breathing grow heavy. She tensed.
“Fro, don’t even think about forcing yourself on me. I’ll make you regret it.”
“What are you imagining?” he sputtered. “I… I admit I got excited. But could you be decent? Warn me to look away next time. Any guy would have thoughts about a beauty like you… Ow! Why’d you hit my head again?”
Because, as a man, you reminded me I’m stuck in this female body—and I hate it.
“Sorry. Reflex.”
“We… we should leave,” he chattered, shivering. “I need a fire, hot boiled beans, and to stretch my legs by the flames. It’s freezing.”
A staircase to the surface formed. They stepped out as the sun rose. Frost coated the fallen leaves. The crisp air seemed to drain warmth from the sunlight. Pale yellow rays touched the white frost, gilding the branches with a cold, metallic sheen.
Aelina built a stone stove, gathered damp firewood, and placed it under a shiny iron pot. Fro hesitated to bring out his soot-blackened pot. He just lit the fire, dumped in beans, salt, and salted beef, then happily warmed himself by the flames.
Aelina watched steam curl from the pot. She checked her “energy bar”—only 30% left. She eyed Fro’s half-full pack. “Fro, how much food did you bring?”
“Plenty.”
He lifted his pack, pulling out a bulging brown sack.
“This is over eight kilos of soybeans. I also grabbed a bag of salted beef.”
Aelina took the beef bag. Light—just 507 grams.
“Not enough,” she said. “It’ll last us three days max.”
“What? This should feed me for ten!”
“Eight kilos of soybeans and 507 grams of beef jerky total about 33,988.5 calories. For a human adult constantly walking—like fleeing—you burn 3,000 calories daily.”
“Uh, I don’t know ‘calories,’ but that math gives me eleven days.”
“But I burn 7,000 calories just sleeping. Yesterday, I used 11,000.” She tapped her head. “Most fuels my brain. Intelligence has a price.”
“So even if you sleep all day while I carry you… we’d last…” He counted on his fingers.
“Three days.”
“Three days won’t get us out of this forest. No wonder Durant complained yesterday—you ate like five men.”
“Anything besides soybeans? High-calorie stuff. I’m tired of beans.”
“Well… I have a honey candy stick. But my mom made it just for me, and I…”
Aelina held out her palm, silent and steady. No man could refuse her. Fro handed it over.
She bit the cylindrical hard candy. Sweet honey oozed out—delicious, far better than beans. She didn’t know this treat was his mother’s secret recipe, meant only for Fro and his future wife.
“Perfect. Nearly 1,000 calories.” In three seconds, only a bare stick remained. “This world’s honey is weird—three times the calories of home honey.”
“I only have one. This won’t work.” Fro stirred the beans. “We need food.”
“A solution? Simple. I’ve planned it.”
“What plan?” He scooped hot beans into his mouth.
“Kill Durant. Steal all the food from his camp.”
“Pfft!” Fro spat out the beans. “Are you insane? Durant has nearly a hundred men!”
“Exactly sixty-three men,” she corrected. “I memorized their voices. Minus cooks and laborers, actual fighters—if swinging weapons like monkeys counts—I’d guess forty-eight.”
“The women working for Durant aren’t pushovers,” he warned. “Think of those shrews. And the carters and porters? Not civilians—they kill for a living. Plus Durant’s starving dogs. He keeps them hungry.”
“Outsmart mere mortals.”
“You’re brilliant—the smartest person I know,” Fro said. “But I’m no legend. Even if they came one by one, I’d drop after ten kills.”
Aelina’s golden eyes swept over him with mild disdain. “You’re weaker than you look.”
“You’ve never fought with a sword!” Fro flushed, voice rising. “Killing isn’t one swing. Enemies block. They wear armor. You must strike true and dodge death blows. Against multiple foes, you run to split them up. And besides…”
“Besides what?”
“Besides… yesterday was my first kill.”
“No wonder you’ve been pale.”
“I’m not cowardly,” he argued. “Anyone feels sick after their first kill.”
“I know. Only sheltered civilians think killing’s easy.” She leaned closer. “You don’t grasp my power. Trust me, follow my plan exactly, and Durant dies easily.”
Aelina watched Fro stare at the dancing flames. Typical unworldly Golden Ape—foolish and hesitant. She ate beans slowly, refueling. After her third pot, Fro looked up, resolve hardening his gaze. “Fine. I trust you. What’s the plan?”
“When the time comes, I’ll tell you. First, I must upgrade your gear. Hand over your chainmail and longsword.”
