The Spoilt Beauty And Her Beasts

Chapter 39: Chapter 39: Okay, let’s pause for a second before I lose my mind

Isabella felt a surge of pride at the way every single gaze was locked onto her. God, she would never get tired of this. No matter the world, no matter the species—her beauty was eternal.

But as much as she enjoyed the admiration, there was work to do. She clapped her hands together, breaking the spell. "Alright, alright, enough gawking. Get back to work."

The beastmen jolted as if waking from a trance, quickly averting their eyes. Some even looked embarrassed, which made Isabella smirk.

Still, whispers floated in the air.

"I never realized we were mocking such a beautiful female..."

"Now we’ll never have a chance."

"There’s no female as clean and stunning as that... She’s the first I’ve seen."

"Look at her hair."

Isabella ignored them, striding over to Shelia and Ophelia.

Ophelia beamed up at her. "You’re so pretty, Isabella. I wish I could be as beautiful as you one day."

Shelia nodded in agreement. "We never really appreciated just how pretty you are."

Isabella flashed Ophelia a warm smile before turning to Shelia with a smug grin. "I know, I know."

The three of them giggled, but Isabella’s expression suddenly grew serious.

While washing up at the river, a troubling thought had crossed her mind.

As soon as she started introducing new ideas and improving the village, word would spread. Prosperity attracted attention—and trouble.

She glanced at the girls. "How many villages are near this one?"

Shelia and Ophelia exchanged a look before answering. "There are five close by."

"Why do you ask?" Shelia tilted her head.

Isabella shrugged casually. "Just curious."

But in her mind, her thoughts were already racing. This village needed more than just development. It needed defense.

I need to introduce combat training... But I don’t even know how to fight myself.

Now she really understood why the system kept looking down on her.

With a sigh, she pushed those thoughts aside and approached the beastmen, who were still hard at work.

Isabella folded her arms, surveying the disaster in front of her.

The ten beastmen were working hard—she’d give them that—but their execution? A complete mess.

One was supposed to be sharpening rocks, but instead, he was grinding them down into tiny, useless pebbles.

Another was carving shovels from bones, but the shapes were so warped, they looked more like weapons than tools.

Two were making big baskets, though "making" was a strong word—one was tangled in his own weaving while the other had somehow made a giant hole in the bottom.

The rest were either smashing stones too aggressively, turning them into misshapen lumps, or sawing logs so unevenly that they might as well be artistic sculptures.

The scene was absolute chaos.

Isabella sighed dramatically. "Okay, let’s pause for a second before I lose my mind."

The men instantly stopped, turning to face her.

She strode over to the first beastman and tapped his pile of crumbled rock pieces with her foot. "What exactly are you doing here?"

The beastman scratched his head. "Sharpening rocks."

"Oh, really?" Isabella deadpanned. "Because this looks more like you’re making rock seasoning. Are we planning to sprinkle the well into existence?"

He blinked, then glanced at his pile, realization dawning. "Ah..."

Moving on, Isabella pointed at the bone shovels. "And you—why does this look like something you’d stab someone with instead of digging with?"

The beastman holding the twisted bone grimaced. "It... broke a little."

"A little?" She crouched, picking up a shard of bone and waving it at him. "This is in half. What part of this screams ’a little’ to you?"

The other beastmen tried to stifle their laughter, but one snorted loudly. Isabella turned on him.

"And you—" She stomped toward the basket makers. "Are you making baskets, or trying to imprison yourself? Because at this point, I feel like we should just leave you in there and call it a day."

The beastman entangled in his own basket huffed, struggling to free himself. "This is harder than it looks!"

"No, it’s not," Isabella said sweetly. "You’re just bad at it."

Shelia, who had been watching with her arms crossed, burst into laughter. Ophelia, meanwhile, looked a bit more nervous, probably wondering if Isabella was going to scold her next.

One of the beastmen, looking mildly amused, crossed his arms. "Alright then, if you’re so good, why don’t you show us with your hands?"

Isabella’s jaw dropped. "Excuse me?"

He smirked. "If you really know what you’re doing, show us."

"Show you?" Isabella placed a hand over her chest in mock offense. "Do you see these hands? These are clean hands. I just washed up, and I am not touching anything disgusting again."

The beastmen exchanged looks before bursting into laughter. Even Ophelia giggled behind her hand, while Shelia smirked knowingly.

"Well then, I guess we’re on our own," one of the men chuckled.

"Damn right, you are," Isabella sniffed. "Now, listen carefully and do it right this time."

Despite the rocky start, the beastmen slowly started getting the hang of things. The rock sharpener finally stopped grinding his materials into dust, the basket makers untangled themselves, and the shovel carver managed to create something that actually resembled a tool.

It took hours, though.

Isabella pinched the bridge of her nose. This is going to take all day at this rate...

The area around her was a wreck. Stone fragments littered the ground, discarded bone shards were everywhere, and the unfinished logs looked like someone had been gnawing on them instead of cutting them properly.

Still, progress was progress.

By the time the sky started turning orange, Ophelia and Shelia stretched their arms and sighed.

"I should head back," Shelia said, brushing some dirt off her hide dress.

Ophelia simply stayed seated, watching the others move around.

Isabella waved a hand. "Yeah, yeah, go before the sun sets."

Shelia chuckled. "Try not to bully the beastmen too much."

"No promises," Isabella called after her.

With Shelia gone, the beastmen gathered all their completed work, piling the baskets, sharpened rocks, and bone tools into one of the large baskets.

[+3 survival points]

The baskets, the sharpened rocks, the bone tools—everything was carefully placed into a large basket, and six of them hauled it back to the palace.

Four remained behind.

Isabella arched a brow. "Why are you still here?"

The tallest one hesitated before answering, "You... told us to clean up your surroundings."

Isabella blinked. "Oh. Right. Well, good. Get to it."

The beastmen grumbled but obeyed, picking up scraps and smoothing out the mess. It took another half-hour before the place looked decent again.

By the time they finished and left, the sky was dark.

Isabella turned to Ophelia with a smirk. "Come on, I’ll show you my secret water source. But you cannot tell or show anyone this spot."

Ophelia’s eyes widened, and she nodded so earnestly it was almost comical. "I swear! I won’t tell a soul!"

Isabella giggled, shaking her head. "You’re too pure for this world."

The two made their way to the river, where Ophelia gasped at the sight of the crystal-clear water. "This... this is so clean," she whispered in awe, dipping her hands in.

Isabella smirked knowingly. "Now you know why I always look flawless."

Ophelia chuckled but couldn’t deny it—everything about Isabella, from her skin to her hair, was pristine.

For the first time, she felt truly clean herself, the water washing away layers of grime she hadn’t even realized were there.

Once refreshed, they returned to the hut. Since Shelia had previously brought an animal hide for Ophelia, she simply spread it on the ground next to Isabella’s.

Isabella stretched, feeling a bit sore from all the standing, then headed straight to the river for one more rinse.

Finally clean again, she changed into fresh clothes, let out a deep breath, and collapsed onto her bed.

Tomorrow would be another long day.

But for now?

Sleep.