Lilith watched as the twin suns finally dipped below the horizon, casting Westbridge in the golden-purple glow of twilight. The town was considerably larger than Oakhollow, with proper stone buildings lining cobbled streets. Oil lamps were being lit along the main thoroughfare, their warm light spilling onto the cobblestones.

  Tomas guided the wagon through the streets with practiced ease, eventually pulling up beside what appeared to be a small market square. Several wooden stalls stood empty, likely abandoned for the day, but a few merchants were still packing away their wares.

  "We're here," Tomas announced, setting the brake on the wagon. "I need to get these crates to the Drunken Badger before full dark. The owner pays extra for fresh deliveries."

  Lilith nodded, taking in the sights and sounds of the town. After a day on the road, the bustle of even this modest settlement felt vibrant. People hurried about on evening errands, and the tantalising smell of cooking food wafted from nearby buildings.

  "Do you need my help with anything else?" she asked, already planning her next move. The Wastelands lay to the west, and the sooner she could gather information about them, the better.

  Tomas hesitated, his fingers fidgeting with the reins. "No, I can manage the delivery. But..." he cleared his throat, "if you haven't arranged lodging yet, my friend has spare rooms and wouldn't mind putting you up for the night. It's the least I can offer after you escorted me here."

  Lilith considered the offer briefly. A free place to stay would be convenient, but she had her Infernal Sanctum spell. More importantly, spending the night near Tomas seemed unwise. Her succubus nature made prolonged proximity to men complicated.

  "That's kind of you," she replied, "but I'll find my own accommodations. I prefer to maintain my independence."

  Was that disappointment flickering across his face? Lilith couldn't be sure in the fading light, but she suspected her refusal had dented his hopes for the evening.

  Before Tomas could respond, a voice called out from behind them.

  "Tomas! You made it before dark after all."

  Lilith turned to see a woman approaching the wagon. She was perhaps in her mid-twenties, with dark hair pulled back in a practical braid and a sturdy apron over her dress. Her eyes moved from Tomas to Lilith, narrowing slightly as she assessed the newcomer.

  Great, Lilith thought. Another woman thinking I'm here to steal her man.

  The woman's posture shifted subtly, her shoulders squaring as she came to stand beside the wagon, her gaze never leaving Lilith.

  "Who's your companion?" she asked Tomas, her tone carefully neutral despite the wariness in her eyes.

  Tomas jumped down from the wagon, seemingly oblivious to the tension. "This is Lilith," he explained, gesturing toward her. "She's a Bleider who agreed to escort me and the wagon from Oakhollow. Uncle Miroslav hired her after those rumours about bandits on the road."

  He turned to Lilith. "And this is Mara, the friend I was telling you about. She runs the Drunken Badger with her father."

  The woman—Mara—relaxed visibly at this explanation, her expression softening.

  "A Bleider? Well, that explains the armour," she said, nodding toward Lilith. "We don't see many of your kind in Westbridge. Most stick to the bigger towns where the contracts pay better."

  Lilith shrugged, offering Mara a disarming smile. "I suppose I'm more adventurous than your typical Bleider. The roads less travelled often lead to the most interesting opportunities."

  Mara nodded, seemingly satisfied with this explanation. The tavern keeper's daughter had relaxed her guard, no longer viewing Lilith as competition for Tomas's attention.

  "Well, I should get going," Lilith said, adjusting the leather armour on her shoulders. "I've got some business to attend to in town before it gets too late." She turned to Tomas. "Thanks for the company on the road. Good luck with your deliveries."

  "You're not staying?" Tomas asked, poorly concealing his disappointment.

  "Not tonight," Lilith replied. "But thank you both for the offer."

  Mara gave her a respectful nod. "If you're ever passing through again, the Drunken Badger serves the best ale in Westbridge. First round would be on the house—as thanks for keeping our Tomas safe."

  "I'll keep that in mind," Lilith said, already backing away. "Safe travels home tomorrow, Tomas."

  With a final wave, Lilith turned and walked into the growing darkness of Westbridge's streets. Behind her, she could hear Mara already asking Tomas about his uncle's orchard as he began unloading the wagon.

  Lilith wandered through the modest town, taking in the sights and sounds. Westbridge was certainly larger than Oakhollow, but it was hardly the sprawling metropolis she'd been accustomed to in her previous life. Still, the stone buildings and proper streets felt almost luxurious after a day on dirt roads.

  Finding a secluded spot proved challenging in such a compact settlement. Eventually, Lilith discovered a narrow passage between two buildings—not quite an alleyway, but dark enough and removed from the main thoroughfare. She glanced in both directions, confirming she was alone before beginning the spell.

  The casting came naturally, her hands moving in practiced gestures as she spoke the incantation. The air before her shimmered and split, revealing a doorway rimmed with violet flames. Lilith stepped through quickly, sealing the entrance behind her and rendering it invisible to any who might pass by.

  Inside her Infernal Sanctum, Lilith released a deep sigh and dismissed her Human Visage spell. The magic melted away, revealing her true form—pale blue skin, sleek obsidian horns, and violet eyes with black sclera. Her wings unfurled from her back, stretching to their full span as her spaded tail uncurled behind her.

  "Ahhh," she breathed, rolling her shoulders. "That's better."

  Strange, she thought, how natural this felt. Despite having these demonic appendages for barely a day, releasing them from confinement brought immediate relief. Her wings flexed and folded, responding to her thoughts as if they'd always been part of her body. Her tail swished behind her with a mind of its own, expressing her contentment in a way that felt oddly intuitive.

  Shadow servants materialised, bowing deeply as they awaited her commands.

  "Prepare my bedchamber," Lilith instructed, moving toward the dining hall. "I'll retire shortly."

  The servants dispersed silently to carry out her wishes. Lilith walked through her opulent domain, trailing her fingers along the obsidian walls. The day's events had been exhausting—physically and mentally. Tomorrow would bring new challenges as she sought information about the Wastelands and the remnants of her empire.

  After a light meal, Lilith made her way to the bedchamber. The massive four-poster bed dominated the room, its silken sheets inviting her to rest. She removed her armour piece by piece, setting it aside before slipping between the covers.

  As she settled into the plush mattress, Lilith's thoughts drifted to her plans for the morning. She would need to replenish her mana reserves before venturing out again. Perhaps another session of 'bathroom relaxation' would be in order—the memory of her earlier exploration bringing a slight flush to her face.

  Her eyelids grew heavy as exhaustion claimed her. Tomorrow would be another day of discovery in this strange new world. For now, sleep beckoned, and Lilith surrendered to its embrace.

  * * *

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  Lilith emerged from her Infernal Sanctum the next morning, cautiously checking both directions before stepping through the shimmering portal. The narrow passage between buildings remained deserted, much to her relief. She sealed the entrance with a casual wave of her hand, watching as the violet-rimmed doorway vanished from sight.

  Her mana reserves hummed at full capacity, replenished after another thorough "exploration" of her new body. Lilith couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips. The physical sensations of this succubus form were extraordinary—each touch amplified beyond anything she'd experienced in her former life. She'd spent nearly an hour that morning indulging her curiosity, learning what pleased this new body best. The resulting mana surge had been a cherry on top.

  "I have to admit," she murmured to herself, adjusting her leather armour, "this body is something else entirely."

  Lilith checked her Human Visage one final time, running her fingers over her now-freckled cheeks and tucking a strand of auburn hair behind her ear. The illusion held perfectly, concealing her demonic features beneath a convincing human appearance. Satisfied, she stepped out into Westbridge's morning bustle.

  The town was already alive with activity. Merchants arranged their wares in the market square, the blacksmith's hammer rang out in steady rhythm, and the smell of fresh bread wafted from the baker's shop. Lilith wandered through the streets, absorbing the sights and sounds. She would explore Westbridge thoroughly before continuing to the Wastelands. Any information she could gather now might prove valuable later.

  As she turned a corner near what appeared to be the town hall, Lilith spotted a large wooden notice board. Several people stood before it, reading the various parchments pinned to its surface. Curiosity piqued, she approached once the crowd thinned.

  The board was covered with announcements, requests, and warnings—evidence that literacy was common in this world, at least in towns of reasonable size. Most notices were mundane: a farmer seeking help with harvest, a carpenter offering services, someone selling a litter of puppies. Lilith scanned them with mild interest, noting prices and common needs that might give her insight into the local economy.

  Then a particular notice caught her eye. Unlike the others, this parchment was marked with a red wax seal bearing the insignia of what appeared to be the town guard.

  WARNING TO ALL CITIZENS

  The abandoned tower in the eastern woods has shown signs of recent activity. Suspicious figures in dark robes have been observed entering and leaving at night. We believe demon cultists may have established a foothold there. All citizens are advised to AVOID this area entirely. Report any sightings to the town guard immediately.

  —Captain Reginald Thornwall

  Demon cultists. Lilith read the notice twice, her interest thoroughly piqued. If there were humans worshipping demons in this area, they might have knowledge about the current state of demonic forces in the Wastelands. At the very least, they could provide a stepping stone toward her ultimate goal.

  "This could be useful," she whispered to herself, memorising the details. The eastern woods weren't mentioned on any signposts she'd seen, which meant she'd need more specific directions.

  Lilith stepped back from the notice board, decision made. She would investigate this tower, but first, she needed to know exactly where it was. A map would be essential—not just for finding the tower, but for planning her journey to the Wastelands afterward.

  She glanced around the square, spotting what appeared to be a general store across the way. Such establishments often sold maps to travellers, at least in game. With purposeful strides, Lilith headed toward the shop, already formulating questions she's going ask. The demon cultists might be exactly the lead she needed in this unfamiliar world.

  * * *

  Lilith pushed open the door to the general store, a small brass bell announcing her arrival with a cheerful jingle. The interior was dimmer than the morning light outside, and it took her eyes a moment to adjust. When they did, she found herself surrounded by a chaotic yet somehow organised collection of merchandise.

  Shelves climbed the walls from floor to ceiling, packed with everything from cooking utensils to hunting supplies. Barrels of preserved foods lined one wall, while racks of clothing occupied another. The air smelled of leather, spices, and the faint mustiness of old parchment. Glass jars filled with colourful powders and dried herbs caught the light from the windows, creating tiny rainbows on the wooden floorboards.

  "Be with you in a moment!" called a voice from somewhere behind the cluttered counter.

  Lilith approached slowly, taking in the shop's eclectic inventory. She spotted several items that would have been useful for adventuring in the game—waterskins, rope, flint and steel—but her dimensional inventory already contained most necessities.

  A shuffling sound drew her attention back to the counter, where a small figure had appeared. The shopkeeper was a gnome, barely reaching the height of Lilith's waist. His face was dominated by an enormous pair of round spectacles that magnified his eyes to comical proportions. Wisps of white hair stuck out from beneath a green cap, and his hands—currently organising a stack of ledgers—were nimble despite their gnarled appearance.

  "Welcome to Gimbel's General Goods," the gnome said without looking up. "What can I help you with today?" His tone suggested he'd rather not be helping her with anything at all.

  "Good morning," Lilith replied, putting on her most pleasant voice. "I'm looking for a map."

  The gnome finally looked up, his magnified eyes blinking slowly as he assessed her. "A map," he repeated flatly. "Could you be more specific? I have maps of Westbridge, maps of Landskavia, maps of trade routes, hunting grounds, and waterways." He gestured toward a rack of rolled parchments behind him. "I don't read minds, you know."

  Lilith bit back a retort. The gnome's attitude was grating, but she needed his goods. "I'm looking for a map of the continent, if possible. And specifically, I need information about the Wastelands."

  At the mention of the Wastelands, the gnome's already suspicious expression darkened further. He pushed his spectacles up his nose and leaned forward.

  "The Wastelands, eh?" His voice dropped to a near whisper. "Only three types of folk ask for maps of that cursed place—the stupid, the cultists, and the demons themselves." His eyes narrowed behind the thick lenses. "Which are you, I wonder?"

  Lilith maintained her composure, though she felt her tail twitch beneath her illusory disguise. "That's my business," she replied coolly. "Do you have such maps or not?"

  The gnome stared at her for a long moment before shrugging. "Fine, fine. Your coin, your funeral." He turned to the rack of maps and selected two rolls of parchment. "Continental overview and detailed Wastelands. Seventy-five gold crowns."

  "Seventy-five?" Lilith couldn't hide her surprise.

  The price was certainly much more than the copper coins Miroslav had paid her for escorting Tomas. She had no real concept of this world's economy yet, but the sum seemed deliberately inflated.

  The gnome caught her expression and smirked. "Maps of the Wastelands don't come cheap. Information is valuable, especially dangerous information." He gestured toward the door. "If you can't afford it, there's the exit. I've got actual paying customers to attend to."

  Lilith considered her options. She had a fortune in her dimensional inventory—gold, gems, and magical items accumulated over years of gameplay—but she wasn't sure what currency would be recognised here.

  "I have coin," she said carefully. "I'm just not certain you'll accept it."

  The gnome's expression shifted from dismissive to curious. "As long as it's gold, I'll accept any kingdom's currency." He tapped his fingers on the counter. "Though there will be an exchange fee, of course."

  Of course there would be. Lilith sighed and made a show of reaching into a pocket at her hip. In reality, she was accessing her dimensional inventory, selecting one of the countless gold coins she'd accumulated in the game. With a subtle motion, she produced the coin and placed it on the counter.

  The gnome picked it up, holding it close to his enormous spectacles. As he examined it, his eyes widened to an almost impossible degree behind the magnifying lenses.

  "By the Shattered Heavens," he whispered, turning the coin over in his fingers. "This... this is pre-Shattering currency." He looked up at Lilith, suspicion replaced by awe. "Where did you get this?"

  Lilith kept her expression neutral. "I have my sources."

  "Do you have any idea what this is worth?" The gnome's voice had lost all its previous rudeness. "Each of these coins is valued at a minimum of one hundred gold crowns to collectors. Some would pay much more."

  That was an interesting development. Lilith had millions of these coins in her inventory—standard currency from the game. If they were considered ancient artefacts here, she was effectively one of the wealthiest beings in this world.

  "Then I'll use it to pay for the maps," she said simply.

  The gnome blinked rapidly. "Are you sure? You could get much more for this if you found the right buyer."

  "Are you going to sell me the maps or not?" Lilith asked, allowing a hint of impatience to creep into her voice.

  "Yes! Yes, of course," the gnome replied hastily. He carefully set the coin aside and bustled about, gathering the maps and wrapping them in protective cloth. His entire demeanour had transformed—the surly shopkeeper replaced by an eager-to-please merchant.

  He returned with two rolled parchments tied with red ribbon, along with a small leather pouch that clinked with the sound of coins. "Here are your maps, excellently preserved and accurate as of last year's surveys. And here—" he pushed the pouch toward her, "—one hundred gold crowns."

  Lilith raised an eyebrow. "You're giving me money on top of maps? I thought you said each coin was worth one hundred crowns. Shouldn't the change be 25 crowns?"

  The gnome spread his hands in a placating gesture. "Consider it an apology for my earlier behaviour. Besides, I said they're worth at least one hundred crowns each. To the right collector, this could fetch twice that." He smiled, revealing surprisingly white teeth. "I'm still making a profit, I assure you."

  Lilith had no doubt of that, but she didn't particularly care. Even if the gnome was scamming her, she had millions more coins just like it. She accepted the maps and the pouch with a nod.

  "Thank you for your assistance," she said, tucking both items securely away.

  "The pleasure is mine," the gnome replied, his tone now positively obsequious. "I'm Gimbel Quickfingers, proprietor of this humble establishment. Should you have any more of those... artefacts to trade, please consider me your first option."

  Lilith nodded noncommittally and turned to leave. She had what she needed—maps to guide her journey and confirmation that her game currency held significant value in this world.

  "Do visit again!" Gimbel called after her as she reached the door. "I'm always available for discerning customers such as yourself!"

  The bell jingled again as Lilith stepped back into the sunlight, leaving the suddenly eager shopkeeper behind. She had maps, money, and a lead on potential demonic allies. It was time to find a quiet spot to examine her purchases and plan her next move.