Villainess is being pampered by her beast husbands
Chapter 69 --69.

Chapter 69: Chapter-69.

Her eyes scanned the area, narrowed slightly—not in fear, but in that calculating, assessing way of hers. And then, she saw movement.

A small hut near the edge of the clearing. Not destroyed. Sticking out like a stubborn weed among the wreckage.

And then, from that hut, a tiny, familiar figure stepped out.

Ah. That same small sheep.

The first one who had met her when she arrived. The one who had hesitantly nudged her hand and then later demanded her attention like a spoiled child.

The one she’d ended up playing with over the past few days.

He blinked up at her from across the crumbled road—dirt on his wool, his tiny arms clutching something ragged and soft. The moment he saw her, his eyes lit up like the dawn.

"Mehhh."

The sheep called outt the sound, drawing Kaya’s attention. She dropped to one knee, ready to pat him.

Just then, a few more villagers slowly emerged from their hut, eyes blinking against the light, gazes locking onto her.

"Ah, you’re back!"

The village elder—yes, the same wrinkled man with a grin too easy for someone his age—smiled at her.

"It’s good. Good that you’re alive. We thought something might’ve happened to you."

Kaya blinked. For a second, she was... impressed?

"Um, you guys are fine?" she asked, scanning their bodies for injuries.

The old man nodded confidently.

"Oh, yeah. Thanks to the underground cellar we made. Even if the Mammoth Tribe comes stomping through and crushes our homes, at least we survive."

That surprised her. Genuinely.

She’d pegged them as nothing more than cave-dwellers with no idea how to protect themselves. Yet, here they were, proving her wrong again.

Kaya looked around at the forest—what was left of it. Trees lay splintered like broken bones, the earth scarred with fresh grooves. The huts nearby were half-collapsed, their roofs hanging by threads of wood and faith. Her gaze lingered on the destruction, a pang of guilt tightening her chest.

"I’m... really sorry this happened," she said softly.

The old man beside her shook his head and gently patted her shoulder. "What? It’s not like you brought the mammoths here. Why are you worried?"

His voice was kind, but there was something else in it too—a weariness born from years of bracing for disasters like this.

"It’s okay, it’s okay," he continued, brushing her concern away like dust from a sleeve. "These predators... they’re always like this. We’ve learned to live with it. So we’re always ready."

Hearing that, Kaya smiled faintly and lowered her head in a respectful bow. "Thank you, sir. I’m really grateful for your kindness but..."

She didn’t finish her sentence. She didn’t need to.

The old man was already looking at her with eyes that had seen too much. He knew what she was going to say. In truth, he had been thinking the same thing. Though he believed her when she said she hadn’t led the mammoths here—he felt it—he couldn’t ignore the timing.

The vultures.

They had never stepped foot in their tribe before. Not once. Not until now.

That could only mean one thing: they wanted something. Either from the tribe... or from her.

Kaya met his gaze, the tension in her shoulders unmistakable. "I just want to stay here for half a day," she said finally, her voice quiet but firm. "Then we’ll leave."

He sighed.

As she walked a few paces away, his eyes followed her. The young ones in the tribe—those who had only known peace—still stared at her with a mix of wonder and unease. To them, she was the woman who had arrived with a snake at her side, who had talked back to a sparrow, and who now stood among the ruins of their forest... with vultures in her shadow.

A few of the villagers gathered quietly behind him. No one dared to speak loudly—not with Kaya still nearby. But he could hear the whispers.

"She’s cursed."

"It’s because of her that they came. I know it."

The old man raised a hand, silencing them.

"She’s not the cause," he said firmly, turning his head slightly. "But she may be the key."

Coincidence?

He didn’t believe in those anymore.

"She says she’ll leave by nightfall," the old man muttered, more to himself than the others. "Let her. If she keeps her word, we let her go in peace. But until then..."

His fingers tightened slightly over the wooden cane he leaned on.

"Watch the skies. And don’t leave the fields empty."

A murmur of agreement passed through the group. One of the younger men leaned in close, voice low. "What if they come back?"

The old man didn’t answer immediately. His eyes remained fixed on Kaya in the distance—watching her trace her fingers across the broken bark of a fallen tree, silent as a ghost.

After getting the permission, Kaya didn’t waste a second.

She told Cutie to transform back and immediately rushed to the small hut that had been given to her. There, with quick hands and a mind already racing ahead, she packed her bag.

She had only half a day—just half a day to gather as many spices as she could from the surrounding area.

Kaya had already decided where she would build her house. She could picture it clearly in her mind, but before that... she needed to collect the spices. If she had even a handful, she could manage to stay anywhere. That was her rule. If she had "a thing"—her thing—then the place could become a home.

She wanted to believe that.

With Cutie beside her, they worked the entire afternoon, combing through the patchy, drought-worn lands. Her fingers brushed over dry soil, withered roots, and half-buried shoots that barely clung to life. Still, she didn’t stop.

But by the time the sun had started dipping behind the hills, painting everything in dusty gold, all they had were seven or eight garlic bulbs—thin-skinned but strong—and five onions.

That was it.

Not much. Not enough.

But for Kaya, it was a start.