Chapter 169: A Face Only A Mother Could Love
Right behind her, Anya hopped down onto the cobblestones.
The six-year-old Shinigami wore her pristine blue dress, her striking purple eyes scanning the new environment with precision with her hands empty.
Klaus had strictly instructed her to leave the massive Ice Phoenix egg securely hidden inside the carriage, locked beneath layers of his own dense Soul Mana to prevent any unwanted attention.
Finally, Tasha stepped down from the runner.
The noble girl shivered instantly as the cold air hit her.
Unlike Mirela and Anya, who possessed unique constitutions, Tasha was fully mortal.
Furthermore, she didn't have her heavy winter furs or protective armor anymore.
She was still wearing the oversized white singlet and dark cotton shorts that belonged to Klaus.
The large shirt hung loosely off her shoulder, covering her down to her mid-thighs, leaving her pale toned legs exposed to the winter chill.
"B-Brrr... it's still really cold out here," Tasha muttered, wrapping her arms around her chest and rubbing her bare shoulders, a faint blush dusting her cheeks as several stable hands in the courtyard openly stared at her exposed legs.
Klaus unlatched the front of the carriage, leading the massive mountain bear into the reinforced stone bay.
The beast settled down heavily onto the thick straw, letting out a massive rumbling yawn that sent the nearby horses into a complete panic.
Klaus raised his hand, casting a dense invisible web of white Soul Mana over the entire carriage and the bay, sealing it completely.
Only he and the girls would be able to pass through the barrier.
"Alright, let's head into town," Klaus announced, walking back over to his group. "We need to restock some basic supplies, grab a real meal at a tavern, and figure out our next move before heading to Galen."
The group walked out of the livery courtyard, stepping onto the bustling main street of the snowy outpost town.
The atmosphere was chaotic and vibrant.
The cobblestone streets were lined with wooden stalls selling roasted meats, thick furs, and low-tier magical artifacts.
Mercenaries boasting about their latest dungeon raids drank hot ale from wooden tankards right on the street corners.
As Klaus walked down the street with Mirela, Tasha, and Anya trailing close beside him, the crowd naturally parted.
The towering presence of the silver-haired man, combined with the breathtaking beauty of the demi-human maid and the strange oversized clothing of the blue-haired girl, made them a spectacle.
Klaus ignored the stares, his silver eyes scanning the buildings, casually taking in the sights.
As they passed a large busy mercenary guildhall, Klaus's eyes casually drifted toward a massive wooden bounty board erected near the entrance.
The board was plastered with dozens of crumpled, weather-beaten papers… bounty notices, missing persons, and wanted posters for various criminals operating near the border.
Klaus was about to look away when a specific poster caught his eye.
He stopped walking with his heavy boots coming to a halt on the cobblestones.
"Master?" Mirela asked, pausing beside him, her blue eyes following his gaze. "Is something wrong?"
Klaus didn't answer immediately.
He stepped closer to the wooden bounty board, his glowing silver eyes narrowing as he stared intently at one of the large posters pinned dead center.
The parchment was fresh, printed with bold, black ink. At the top, in large, aggressive letters, it read.
WANTED: DEAD OR ALIVE.
CARRIAGE THIEF & BRUTAL MURDERER.
BOUNTY: 20 GOLD COINS.
Below the bold text was a charcoal sketch of the suspect's face.
Klaus stared at the drawing, a deep frown slowly pulling at his handsome features.
The drawing was supposed to be of him… specifically, of his original, pre-divine ascension self.
It depicted a young man with messy black hair and plain features. However, the artist who had sketched the description had taken massive insulting creative liberties.
The face on the poster was horrendously ugly.
The jawline was weak and recessed, the eyes were drawn too far apart, giving the face a vacant stupid expression, and the messy black hair looked like a greasy unwashed bird's nest.
The artist had even added a ridiculous crooked nose and a slight cowardly overbite.
It was, without a doubt, the ugliest rendition of a human being Klaus had ever seen in his life.
"What the hell is this..." Klaus muttered, his right eye twitching slightly in deep annoyance.
A rugged, scarred local mercenary, who was leaning against the wooden board drinking from a flask, noticed Klaus staring at the poster.
The mercenary let out a loud, barking laugh, wiping ale from his beard.
"Ugly bastard, isn't he?" the mercenary chuckled, gesturing toward the drawing with his flask. "Can't blame you for staring, friend. Face like that could sour a fresh barrel of milk just by looking at it."
Klaus slowly turned his head, looking at the mercenary with a perfectly deadpan expression. "You know who this is?"
"Yeah, the whole town's been talking about it for weeks," the mercenary nodded, completely oblivious to who he was talking to. "Some lunatic caused a bloodbath outside one of the local taverns a while back. He killed a carriage rider by pushing him onto stakes with some kind of hyper-compressed wind magic, then casually hijacked an elite noble carriage right out from under their noses and drove it straight into the Winterlands portal."
The mercenary shook his head, taking another swig from his flask.
"The noble's surviving guards put out the bounty. Said the guy was a plain-looking black-haired commoner. But honestly, if you ask me? The guy was probably desperate. Anyone cursed with a face that ugly probably has a lot of pent-up anger… They say he looked like a squashed potato with hair. Poor bastard."
Klaus stood perfectly still. His jaw clenched tight with a vein pulsing faintly on his temple.
'I'm not that ugly, am I?' Klaus thought to himself, his internal ego suffering an unexpected critical hit.
Sure, his original body hadn't been a divinely sculpted model.
He had been an average-looking, plain mob character with forgettable brown eyes and messy black hair.
But he hadn't looked like a mutated cross-eyed potato!
"Target illustration possesses a facial symmetry variance of ninety-four percent," Anya said, standing beside Klaus and staring up at the poster with her purple eyes. "The anatomical structure depicted is biologically incompatible with standard human jaw mechanics… The artist was very incompetent."
"Thank you, Anya," Klaus grumbled, crossing his broad arms over his chest.
He let out a long sigh, shaking his head.
As annoyed as he was by the horrendous artistic insult, his mind quickly recognized the incredibly fortunate silver lining.
He looked down at his own reflection in the window of a nearby shop.
He was currently towering over six-and-a-half feet tall.
His physique was divinely sculpted and heavily muscled.
His eyes were a glowing luminescent silver, and his shoulder-length hair was a brilliant, flawless metallic silver.
His facial features were noble and breathtakingly handsome… the pinnacle of the Soul King's divine aesthetic.
He looked absolutely nothing like the black-haired, plain-looking mob character he used to be.
The physical reconstruction of his soul had completely rewritten his biological identity.
'Well... thankfully, I'm much more handsome now,' Klaus thought with a satisfied smirk replacing his frown. 'Let them hunt for the ugly bastard. They'll never connect the silver-haired god walking through their streets to the guy who stole the carriage.'
"Excuse me, Master Klaus..."
A soft shivering voice broke his train of thought.
Klaus turned away from the bounty board. Tasha was standing a few feet away, her arms wrapped tightly around her chest, her pale legs trembling slightly in the freezing wind.
"I... I hate to be a burden," Tasha stammered, her cheeks flushed with a mixture of cold and deep embarrassment as several passing merchants openly stared at her oversized singlet and bare thighs. "But... I really don't have any clothes. Wearing your shirt is very comfortable, but... it's quite drafty and I feel slightly indecent walking through a public town like this."
Klaus looked at her, then nodded. "Right. You need gear."
He turned back to the scarred mercenary, who was still leaning against the board.
"Hey. You know this town. Where's the best place to buy high-grade clothes and armor around here?"
The mercenary blinked, taken aback by Klaus's sudden commanding tone, but he quickly pointed a rough finger down the cobblestone street toward a large, brightly painted two-story building.
"You'll want to hit Madame Vesper's," the mercenary supplied helpfully. "It's the biggest clothier and outfitter in the outpost. Mostly caters to the rich merchants and high-tier adventurers passing through the portal. She's got everything from heavy winter furs to enchanted silks."
"Appreciate it," Klaus said, tossing a small silver coin toward the man.
The mercenary caught it while grinning widely. "Thanks, My Lord!"
"Let's go, girls," Klaus instructed, leading the group down the busy street. "We're going shopping."
They walked down the bustling thoroughfare, eventually arriving in front of a large, lavishly decorated wooden storefront.
The sign hanging above the door read… MADAME VESPER'S GARMENTS & THREADS, painted in elegant swirling gold script that completely clashed with the rugged, snow-covered architecture of the rest of the town.
Klaus pushed open the heavy wooden door with a warm melodious bell ringing to announce their entry.
The moment they stepped inside, the biting cold of the winter streets completely vanished, replaced by an overwhelming wave of magical floral-scented warmth.
The interior of the shop was massive, brightly lit by floating glowing crystal orbs.
The walls were lined floor-to-ceiling with racks of exquisite clothing, heavy winter cloaks, enchanted leather armor, fine silks, and boots of every size.
The sheer explosion of colors and fabrics was dizzying.
"Welcome, welcome, welcome!"
A loud enthusiastic booming voice echoed from the back of the shop.
Bursting out from behind a rack of heavy velvet coats was the shop owner.
Madame Vesper was a tall, eccentric, full-figured woman with wild, curly auburn hair, wearing a flamboyant, multi-layered dress composed of at least six different clashing fabrics.
She had a measuring tape draped around her neck and several sewing needles tucked behind her ear.
"Ah! New customers!" Madame Vesper beamed, clapping her hands together as she practically glided across the polished wooden floor toward them.
Her sharp eyes immediately swept over the group, instantly calculating their worth and fashion needs.
She looked at Klaus first, her eyes widening slightly at his massive, shirtless frame and divine, silver-haired appearance.
"My goodness! What a magnificent, towering specimen of a man!" the owner praised loudly. "Walking around shirtless in the freezing cold? Bold! Daring! But we simply must get you into a proper enchanted high-collar coat to accentuate those broad shoulders!"
Klaus raised a single silver eyebrow, completely unfazed by her enthusiastic assault.
"I'm fine. I'm here for her."
He gestured with his thumb toward Tasha, who was hiding slightly behind Mirela, shivering in the oversized singlet.
Madame Vesper's eyes locked onto Tasha. She gasped dramatically, pressing her hands to her cheeks in exaggerated horror.
"Oh, you poor, freezing dear!" the owner cried out, rushing forward. "Walking around in an oversized men's undershirt?! Tragic! A total fashion disaster! But do not worry! With that beautiful light-blue hair and aristocratic posture, I know exactly what you need! We have a shipment of enchanted, thermal-lined noble tunics and high-grade leather combat trousers that will fit you perfectly!"
"Th-Thank you, ma'am!" Tasha nodded eagerly, her eyes lighting up at the promise of actual, warm clothes.
"And you, my lovely demi-human!" Madame Vesper spun toward Mirela, eyeing her flawless maid uniform and goat tail. "Your uniform is impeccable! But perhaps a matching fur-lined winter cape to keep that beautiful tail warm?"
"That would be acceptable," Mirela smiled sweetly, puffing her chest out proudly at the compliment.
Klaus let out a soft sigh, preparing to pull out his coins to settle the massive bill this eccentric woman was clearly about to rack up.
"Alright, just get them whatever they need, and—"
Suddenly, Madame Vesper froze.
Her enthusiastic rambling cut off mid-sentence. She slowly lowered her gaze, looking past Klaus's heavy combat boots.
Standing quietly near Klaus's knee was Anya.
The six-year-old Shinigami was wearing her simple pristine blue cloth with her silver hair perfectly neat, staring up at the flamboyant shop owner with her striking deadpan purple eyes.
Madame Vesper's breath hitched. Her eyes dilated to the size of dinner plates, and a look of manic fashion-craze washed over her face.
"Oh... my... goddess..." the shop owner whispered, her voice trembling with awe.
She dropped to her knees right in front of the little girl, clasping her hands together as if praying to a deity.
"A living doll!" Madame Vesper squealed, her voice pitching up three tones. "The silver hair! The giant purple eyes! The adorable completely emotionless little face! She is the pinnacle of cuteness!"