At first, I didn't believe it and started checking my own body. And sure enough, my skin is several shades lighter than usual. My legs even look slimmer, and my chest is bigger-which couldn't help but make me happy since I've struggled with a tiny bust my whole life.

My hair really surprised me. It had grown past my shoulder blades, and my peroxide blonde was now almost white, with a slight lilac tint. Quite unusual and beautiful, I must admit.

But what surprised me the most were my hands. From my wrists all the way up to my shoulders, they were covered in some kind of black tattoos!

Examining my limbs, I realized it didn't really look like typical tattoos. It was more like a design on my skin-very clear and detailed, with delicate, precise, and refined patterns. Usually, tattoos blur over time; the outlines aren't as sharp as when first done, and the colors fade slightly. But here... everything was perfect, incredible!

I actually liked the design. It consisted of a beautiful, intricate ornament intertwined with flexible stems of some plants and flowers. Although there were no actual flowers-only closed buds, one of which stood out especially large.

Looking myself over more carefully, I discovered another tattoo at the very bottom of my stomach, starting just below my belly button and trailing downward, crossing over my pubic area and... oh gods! Down there!

What a scandal! And those buds again! Though honestly, in the overall design, it was actually quite pretty.

So there I am, standing awkwardly with my panties and pajama shorts pulled aside, inspecting my newly upgraded feminine assets, when I hear a distinct whistle.

Spinning around sharply, I see two huge men watching me, whispering to each other and quietly chuckling!

I flushed red as a tomato. How embarrassing!

But all shame vanished the moment those two hulks gave me a predatory grin and started approaching, mumbling something in a language I couldn't understand.

I didn't need a translator to guess their intentions-judging by their rapidly adjusting pants, the way they kept glancing at each other, and laughing.

I've never felt this kind of fear and panic-not even when I first found myself in this strange new world.

Well, damn, Isabella! You barely got to know this strange, wonderful new world, and now two big brutes are about to violate you! Looks like my everyday life is about to get a lot more interesting... and my sexual experience too. Not sure I'll survive this, though.

I suddenly spin around and bolt, trying to escape. But my attempt is cut short before it even really starts-I crash painfully into the broad chest of another man. Like running full speed into a tree, it knocks the wind out of me.

With horror, I look up-and panic and fear freeze me solid when I see his eyes: red irises, studying me closely.

Oh my God... could he be... some kind of demon?!

I try to pull away from this monster, but grasping hands hold me tight in place. Flashing me an angry glare, the man growls something.

"I don't understand you! Let me go!" I start struggling, but it's useless.

The two men from behind approach us and say something to the big guy. After listening to them, the brute-not exactly pleasant-grabs me by the chin and begins turning my head from side to side, inspecting me closely. Then, shamelessly, he lifts my pajama shirt and looks at my stomach, slightly pulling down my shorts.

"Hey! Don't get fresh with me, you bastard!" I protest, grabbing the idiot's hand and pushing it away.

Growling, the man eyes me up and down, then with a satisfied smirk mutters something to his men.

It's clear who the boss is-those two guys lower their heads, looking disappointed and obedient.

Suddenly, my feet lifted off the ground, and in a rude, barbaric way, I was tossed over someone's shoulder and dragged off to who knows where.

My struggling, kicking, and heavy swearing lasted about twenty minutes. After that, completely exhausted, I just dangled on the man, whose strength didn't seem bothered at all by my weight-he didn't even miss a breath. He kept walking, chatting with his friends.

It seemed my fate was clear and sealed. Despair gripped my entire being, and tears were ready to burst out in a flood-when I saw we were approaching some settlement. It looked like the one I had seen from the ledge.

Before I could even feel a flicker of hope or get a good look around, they started dragging me to a shabby hut on the very outskirts-without even entering the settlement itself.

The man carrying me barked something to his friends, who laughed and walked away while I was shoved into the lair.

That's it! They've assigned me! Apparently, this huge moron will be first in line to violate me, and there's no one to save me...

With a hideous, drawn-out creak, the old door finally gave way, and I was dragged inside the shabby hut. For all my kicking and cursing, it felt like I'd suddenly unlocked a second wind - I'm sure the whole damn village could hear me by now.

I won't go down without a fight! I'll injure the bastard if it's the last thing I do!

The brute carrying me suddenly stops and, without any warning, throws me down onto a floor covered in rough furs. He looms over me, arms crossed over his chest, muttering something under his breath. I freeze when another male voice joins in.

Turning my head, I spot an old man standing in the far corner of the hut. He's thin and dry as kindling, yet there's something oddly dignified about him as he approaches. Between his lips, he's chewing on a small twig with narrow leaves, rolling it lazily from side to side while studying me with complete indifference.

After a slow inspection from head to toe, the old man rasps something to the giant, and suddenly massive hands grab me from behind, pinning my arms tightly to my sides. I can't even twitch.

The old man steps closer and presses hard on my cheeks, forcing my mouth open. Before I can react, he slips something inside - a small, berry-like thing - then shuts my mouth and holds it closed until I'm forced to bite down.

Ugh, disgusting! It tastes like someone shoved a handful of wormwood in my mouth. The bitter flavor spreads, crawling down my throat and burning as it goes. The brute finally lets go, and I collapse face-first onto the furs.

I'm about to curse him into oblivion when my stomach suddenly twists in agony. A wave of nausea hits so strong it makes my head spin. My whole body burns, every muscle aches, and before I can stop it, I'm retching violently onto the floor.

The old man started saying something, but his words reached me only faintly as I kept retching, practically turning myself inside out all over his hut.

"That's the juice of the aktukha fruit-it makes your brain work differently," he suddenly said. I froze, staring at the old man in shock, realizing that I could understand him now, even as another wave of nausea twisted my insides.

"The sickness is normal," he continued calmly. "Your brain matter produces signals and impulses that let you think, move, and speak. Now, however, your mind can perceive similar impulses in other brains-like mine, for instance. My visual, memory, and meaning signals are being read. The sounds or words I make correspond to certain remembered images and meanings in my head. Your brain catches them, compares them to its own patterns, and translates them into a language you understand," the old man explained, lowering himself onto a stool.

"Every inhabitant of our kingdom takes aktukha from childhood, so that they can understand others-or any beings with similar brain processes and capable of speech. It's the king's decree, meant to prevent communication problems between different peoples and races. Fortunately, you only need to consume the fruit once-the effect lasts a lifetime."

"What do you want from me?" I asked weakly, feeling the nausea begin to fade. My thoughts were clearing, though a fine tremor still shook my body.

"From you? Nothing," the old man replied, his face unreadable, his tone icy. "I am Tákhis, the shaman of this settlement. My task was to make sure you can understand our language-since we already understand yours-and that you can speak before our leader. What happens to you after that is none of my concern. To be honest, I couldn't care less."

His blunt honesty hit me like a slap. I still had no idea what awaited me, but at least now I could understand them-and that was something.

The giant grabbed my arm again, yanking me out of the hut and dragging me deeper into the village.

"Hey! Could you not manhandle me like that?" I protested, struggling against his grip. "You're hurting me!"

"Then stop fighting, and it won't hurt," he said flatly, not even glancing my way.

I realized escape was impossible for now-especially since we were walking into a large settlement bustling with people. So I followed obediently, taking everything in.

The first thing that struck me was how strikingly vivid these people looked. Honestly, it felt like I'd stumbled into a commercial for some luxury brand. Most of them were dark-haired, but there were quite a few women with unusually colored hair. Their eyes, though-that was what truly caught my breath. So many shades, but the most common was a deep, glowing red, like rubies under sunlight. And every one of them bore intricate tattoos-on their arms, across their stomachs, and some even on their chests.

The settlement itself was astonishing. It wasn't exactly medieval as we understand it, though the residents' clothing shared some similarities-while also featuring daringly modern details that looked straight out of a futuristic fashion show.

Every house, except for the shaman's, looked solidly built. I could even see dark-gray brickwork in some walls, and the large windows were decorated with intricately crafted stained glass that stood out beautifully against the darker façades. The roofs were covered with sleek black tiles that gleamed faintly under the sun.

There were no fences between the houses, only clusters of bright, exotic flowerbeds filled with plants I didn't recognize. The road wasn't asphalt, but paved with smooth, sturdy stone tiles that looked almost polished.

Everything around me was fascinating-a strange blend of eras that somehow worked together. It was as if bits of different centuries had collided and learned to coexist in harmony. I would have found it all exciting... if I weren't terrified of what was going to happen to me.

"What's going to happen to me?" I asked, panic rising as I darted my eyes from one villager to another, searching for even the slightest sign of help. But they only stared back, curious and unbothered, clearly not planning to intervene.

The man said nothing, simply kept dragging me forward-until suddenly, a young brunette girl jumped in front of us, clutching some kind of fluffy abomination in her arms. I couldn't even tell what kind of creature it was-it had four hairless ears and a ridiculously furry body covered in dark red fur. Honestly, it looked like someone's nightmare pet.

The girl herself was breathtakingly beautiful, just like everyone else here, with bright pink eyes and full lips the color of fuchsia. Judging by the way her brows furrowed, though, she wasn't too happy at the moment.

"Light of my eyes, who is this girl?" she asked in a thin, sharp voice, glaring daggers at the brute who was dragging me toward what I assumed was their leader.

"Oh, Míko," the man said cheerfully, "this girl is the solution to all our problems. I'm taking her to your father. Thanks to her, we'll finally be able to start a family-and you'll be mine."

"Really?!" Míko's expression lit up instantly. She smiled-one of those flawless, radiant smiles that could melt glass-then giggled, bouncing in place with giddy excitement.

She threw her arms around her lover, gave him a quick, happy kiss, and skipped away, hugging that bizarre red creature to her chest.

Meanwhile, I wasn't exactly sharing in her joy.

"What's that supposed to mean?!" I demanded, staring at the brute in shock. And only now did I notice-he wasn't bad-looking at all. Tall, broad-shouldered, his dark tan skin contrasting beautifully with those ruby-red eyes and well-defined muscles.

"It means exactly what it means," he snorted without even looking at me. "You'll find out soon enough. What's your name?"

"Oh, thanks for asking!" I snapped back, dripping sarcasm. "Isabella. Or Iza."

He wrinkled his nose. "Ugh. What a name. Won't do. Around here we don't have such names - you'll be Naziza."

"What?!" I gasped. Well, excuse me, local critic of names!

"And what's your name then, genius?" I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

"Dildan," the brunette announced proudly, straightening his back as if he'd just said something glorious.

There was a second of silence-and then I completely lost it. A wild fit of hysterical laughter burst out of me. Oh, he definitely had a sense of humor! Except... apparently, he didn't, because he wasn't laughing.

"Wait- you're serious?!" I choked out between laughs. "Oh my god, that's- that's perfect for you!" I wheezed through tears, barely able to speak.

"Are you out of your mind?" he asked, clearly not understanding what was so funny. "Since you're not from here, you should know-I was named after one of our greatest rulers! An unmatched warrior and brilliant strategist!"

"I don't doubt it for a second," I managed, trying to compose myself. "With a name like that, how could he not be great?"

Honestly, I was laughing to keep from crying. Because as we approached a massive black two-story mansion with a wide veranda, my nerves twisted tighter with every step. A few girls, maybe eight or ten years old, were playing there-brunettes with sweet pink eyes, all staring at me with innocent curiosity. Dildan greeted them, and they cheerfully waved back.

We stepped inside the elegant house, and a tall, broad-shouldered man came to meet us. After a brief greeting, he sat down in a large armchair, his commanding presence filling the room. Dildan and I stood before him.

"I'm listening, Dildan," the man said, his deep brown eyes scanning me like an x-ray. "What brings you here, and who is this girl?"

That piercing stare made my skin crawl. There was something in it-aggression, hostility, and a cold sort of judgment that set my nerves on edge.

"Manar, this is Naziza," the brute began, completely ignoring my real name. "We found her wandering through our lands while patrolling the borders. She's a foreigner-and still untouched by any man. That might help us solve the situation with Miko."