"Demons!"
"Witch!"
Before the small stone was thrown at her head, Dill rolled over in real time, successfully dodging the stone but unable to avoid the fate of falling backwards from the bed.
This is the power of [Ominous Premonition A].
Lily rubbed her eyes and looked at Dill on the floor with a horrified expression. The little girl tried to pull the young girl, who was several heads taller, onto the bed with all her hands and feet, only to fall on her own ass and land hard on Dill's chest.
Dill: Spitting blood.
Dill struggles to get up. She glanced out the window at the frolicking children and realized that they had turned their heads to bully the old hound, Jack, and before she could curse, a white figure snatched and pounced.
The great white goose was fast and furious, winging, pawing, and pecking the group of children.
Dill and Lily leaned against the window sill to admire the group's dilemma, and sleep was gradually dispersed.
Dill twitched her nose, vaguely smelling the scent of bread baking, the morning air fluffy and light, all of last night's rain evaporating to nothing more than the morning dew dangling from the tips of the green leaves, and the breeze carrying a shallow hint of coolness.
It was good to be alive for another day.
Despite tossing and turning last night, Dill fell asleep. She is Amber Mouth, a heartless, dead brat. As long as you can live one more day, you naturally want to sleep and drink enough one day, or at the moment of death, you are still worried about fear. There is nothing to enjoy about the death of the ugly; that is more than loss.
In fact, Dill was also entangled in the first half of the night for a long time, pulling Laurel away from chatting for most of the night. But like Laurel said, this is her magic; whether it's [abundance] or [ominous signs], all these troubles that plagued her originated from her power; it's just that she couldn't see it before.
The people driving the horses shouldn't run in front of them; she had to control them, or one day she would be hoofed to the ground.
Outside, Mrs. Cole had prepared a hearty breakfast, just as she'd said she would: crispy, flat biscuits with a filling of crushed peas and acorns; dark bread made with aged wine and baked, rough but fragrant; and a large jug of hot milk in a clay pot on the window case, steaming outward to dissipate the heat.
Seeing the look on Lily's face as if she'd seen Santa Claus putting out presents, Dill guessed that Mrs. Cole had definitely gone to great lengths to entertain herself.
Thinking that she was planning to brush someone as an experience value yesterday, Dill had some conscience; maybe the goddess just saw that she was going down a crooked path and woke herself up with a slap, just that the slap was also too heavy, right? ...
She fought yesterday to use [Aura] to learn magic quickly, use [Abundance] to have a strengthening skill, and then use the strengthening skill to get a human farm that specializes in brushing experience value.
Now, [Goddess's Expectation] greatly increases the chance of being in danger, and [Ominous Omen] continues to build on that, turning Dill's chance of being in danger into 100%. The goddess is directly sending her a whole set of death and dying packages.
Dill seems to be able to see [Goddess of Expectation] showing herself a throat-slitting maneuver to wake her up. This is not an RPG adventure game; go hunt a werewolf to give me a blood sacrifice.
Dill: I know I'm wrong; don't mess with me again.
Presumably Dill blushed so hard that Mrs. Cole cut her a pie almost as big as her face, immediately hitting Lily back with a wooden spoon when she couldn't help but reach for it, plus a look from her mother-sama.
"I heard the Lord Knight stay at the mayor's house last night; the mayor is an old friend of my husband's. I'm going to bring the milk over in a few minutes; would you like to come along?"
Mrs. Cole thought that Dill was afraid of the werewolves; she had heard that the girls from the east coast were just as precious and fragile as the china they brought with them, and that people from the east coast kept their daughters locked up in their homes as if they were treasures. Maybe Dill was too embarrassed to go to another man who was alone because she was a woman.
"Mommy, don't go out." Lily held hot milk, her mouth stained with a ring of white beard. "They're bullying again next door, Peter."
That reminded Dill, and she told Mrs. Cole about the morning's events. Mrs. Cole was furious when she heard this and directly rushed out with a spoon to settle the score, leaving Dill and Lily to look at each other in disbelief.
It took a while for Mrs. Cole to come back; she looked unharmed, and Dill was temporarily relieved; after all, there are bear children and bear parents. However, Mrs. Cole said that Peter's mother was a childhood friend of hers and that Peter had just been brought up by the other kids and heard some gossip before he came to bully Lily.
Mrs. Cole then apologized to Dill for being dragged into this.
It's really just human nature, and it's not easy for a widow and orphan to survive in the world and in a town that's under the shadow of a werewolf curse. The father contracted an epidemic and died tragically, and the child was born with an ominous birthmark on her face. If it were not for the mayor's protection, the mother and daughter would have been driven out of the village and town.
Dill saw Mrs. Cole's tired face and quickly changed the subject. They mostly talked about Lily, and Dill provided Mrs. Cole with several remedies to get rid of the scar, except that the herbs were rare and not easy to collect.
Mrs. Cole was grateful for her kindness, but Lily was unusually quiet, and in the middle of their conversation, she suddenly pushed back her chair and ran outside.
Mrs. Cole looked embarrassed but not angry at her daughter's rudeness.
"I kept telling her it wasn't a demonic brand, that her father had a birthmark just like it, only on his neck. Lily has always cherished that birthmark as if it were her father's shadow."
A breakfast that was somewhat tasteless.
Dill excused herself to take her pet white goose to the lake to be cleaned, but as soon as she was out the door, she was heading in the direction of the marketplace.
The marketplace in the valley is less salty than the coastal marketplace Dill is familiar with; the congested, narrow streets are almost obliterated by the stench of livestock; flies and mosquitoes linger in the surrounding area; the townspeople are so conservative and closed-off that they don't easily talk to outsiders; and their cold, repulsive eyes stare down at some of the travelers who come to replenish their supplies.