Chapter 115 --115
In front of what looked like a mountain.
Well—calling it a mountain didn’t quite fit. It was more like a carved, curved rise of land, hollowed out and filled with entrances. Dozens—no, hundreds—of caves formed into its side, one over the other like stacked alcoves.
It was alive.
People were moving in and out, voices echoing across the stone, laughter rising and falling. A marketplace, unmistakably. But not a modern one. No loud speakers, no glass, no steel. This place felt ancient. Timeless.
And none of them—not a single one—were human.
They were all beastmen.
Every shape and form she’d never imagined before walked right in front of her. Some with rabbit ears, like Cutie’s tribe. Others with sleek panther-like ears and deep, watchful eyes, their black tails swaying behind them. A few had striped ears—bold, pointed, with fur patterns like tigers or cheetahs—flicking with every movement.
And their clothes?
It was like walking through fashion across ages and lands.
Some wore long kimonos, tied with perfect folds, their hair done up with wooden pins or braided with beads. The fabric shimmered faintly with their movements—soft silk-like material that caught the light just right. Others wore rough hide outfits—raw and simple, speaking of survival.
She saw frocks with fur-lined edges, flowing with movement. Some wore nothing but a single long cloth wrapped around their lower body, paired with a cropped piece of hide shaped like a half-shirt. There was a wild, untamed elegance in everything.