Chapter 107 – The Beast’s Den.

The return from the morning hunt occurred around ten in the morning.

Diana unlocked the iron gate of the Lower Cauldrons Estate, making way for Boran to wheel in a handcart loaded with the carcass of a Volcanic Ash Wolf (Level 45) they had brought down in the rift's lower foothills.

They hauled the quarry down the stone stairs into the subterranean cistern.

The cool basement space functioned with the exact efficiency Diana had anticipated: steel hooks supported the carcass while Boran flayed the gray pelt with his hunting knife, and Diana used the sharp tips of her black obsidian claws to separate the choice cuts from the entrails without tearing the muscle tissue.

Boran carted the prime cuts and leather to the butcher shop in the square, returning half an hour later with the coin.

Factoring in the +30% Commander's Loot bonus, the sale brought in ten pure silver coins. Diana paid the one-silver daily wage to the veteran tracker, pocketed the remaining nine, and barred the iron gates the moment Boran took his leave.

The balance in the faction vault climbed to 389 Silver Coins.

Diana washed the blood from her forearms in the cistern's cold water basin, dried her hands on a clean cloth, and climbed the stairs back up to the house's ground floor.

It was upon stepping onto the living room floor that the irritation began to assert itself.

***

The house was spacious and secure, but entirely bare.

The floor consisted of raw slabs of gray granite that kicked up stone dust with every stride of her boots. In the second-floor bedroom, there was only the wooden frame of a bed fitted with a stiff, worn straw mat, a crooked-backed chair, and whitewashed walls smelling of fresh lime and dry sealant.

On Earth, Diana had spent years residing in drab rooms with a cheap, sunken foam mattress and a chipped laminate desk without ever giving it a second thought. She had regarded comfort as a pointless luxury for soft people, believing four walls and a roof to keep off the rain were all anyone required to study and work.

Now, however, her biology operated under different rules.

The flesh of an Archdemon of Greed possessed heightened tactile sensitivity. When Diana took off her boots to pad barefoot through the house, the gritty chill of the granite leached the warmth from her feet in a way that irritated her soles.

When she tried lying on the straw mat, the stiffness of the mattress forced her neck into a bad angle, causing the base of her obsidian horns to knock against the wallboard with every turn.

An ancient territorial instinct ran deep in her new lineage: pureblood demons did not dwell in barren caves like grazing beasts. They fashioned comfortable dens, where the texture of fabrics, the scent of wood, and the support of their resting places catered to the weight of their physical presence.

Diana sat on the crooked-backed chair in the parlor and stared down at the gray floor.

—Took you long enough to notice...

The System's voice echoed in her mind in good-humored black gold.

—Archdemons have a nesting instinct, Diana. You can pretend to be a Spartan warrior sleeping on bare rock, but your new body demands proper shelter to truly relax.

Diana stood up from the chair, straightening her jacket. “I just don't like floors kicking up dust on my feet.”

—Right... It's called taste, Commander. Go spend some coins at the market.

***

Diana locked the estate and walked to the Upholsterers and Joiners Market of the South Sector.

She did not search for the delicate silks or ornamental trinkets favored by Asmodeus's nobility. Diana wanted dense, durable, and comfortable goods suited to her physical build and the climate of the Third Circle:

She bought two thick rugs of infernal ram's wool woven in black and red yarn, heavy enough to cover the entirety of the bedroom and parlor floors, insulating against the cold granite.

She purchased a broad mattress stuffed with pure wool and mountain goose down, along with four long, low pillows designed to cradle the neck without pushing the curve of her horns forward.

She also acquired an oversized cedarwood armchair with soft leather upholstery for the sitting room, a polished low table, and three thick-glass oil lamps filled with vegetable oil scented with pine essence.

The full set of furnishings, prime mattress, and wool rugs cost four silver coins, including delivery of the crates directly to her door.

With the payment settled, the total balance in the faction vault adjusted to an untouched 385 Silver Coins (38.5 Gold Coins).

***

Two hours later, the porters unloaded the furniture in the courtyard and Diana bolted the iron gates.

She went up to the second floor and began outfitting the space with her own hands.

She rolled out the thick black-and-red wool rug across the bedroom floor, covering the granite from wall to wall. She set the new mattress onto the wooden slats, covered it with soft linen sheets, and arranged the low pillows at the headboard.

In the downstairs room, she positioned the leather armchair near the side window and lit one of the pine-scented lamps on the coffee table.

The dry lime smell of the house vanished, replaced by the clean aroma of fresh wood and vegetable oil.

Diana kicked off her leather boots at the bedroom threshold and stepped barefoot onto the wool rug.

The soft, warm texture of the fleece gave way beneath her feet without letting the cold of the stone reach her skin. She walked to the edge of the bed and lay down on her side, resting her head on the low pillows.

Her obsidian horns rested clear above the fabric line, neither striking the wooden headboard nor straining the muscles of her neck.

Diana released a long sigh, closing her eyes as her body relaxed completely into the plush mattress.

The Commander would never admit it aloud to the System, but the sensation of lying in a well-made bed after days on hard rock brought a peace she had not experienced in a very long time.

She remained there resting for half an hour, listening to the gentle breeze rustling through the cracked window and the quiet flicker of the pine lamp downstairs.

The den was ready. Her body was restored.

Early tomorrow the routine of hunting toward Level 45 would resume, but now Diana had a real home to return to at the end of the day.