KamiKowa: That Time I Got Transmigrated With A Broken Goddess-Chapter 115: [] Nessa’s Last Shopping Trip

Xavier and Naomi stepped out into the morning air, greeted by a wall of cold that made Xavier’s lungs ache. The narrow streets of Vykengard was coated in fresh snow that crunched beneath their boots. Smoke rose from chimneys in lazy spirals, disappearing into a sky the color of old pewter.

"The eastern gate’s this way," Naomi said, pointing down a sloping street. "We can get supplies there before —"

"Nessa! Good morning!"

An older woman called out from a doorway, her gray hair tucked beneath a woolen cap. She stood in the entrance of what appeared to be a bakery, wiping flour-covered hands on a stained apron.

Naomi tensed momentarily before offering a smile. "Morning."

"Haven’t seen you about this early in days," the woman continued, squinting at Xavier. "And who’s this handsome fellow? Don’t think I’ve seen him around these parts."

Xavier gave a small nod, keeping his expression neutral. "Just passing through."

"He’s a friend," Naomi added, her tone clipped. "We’re heading to the eastern gate."

The baker’s eyebrows rose. "You working at the Fox tonight?"

"Not tonight," Naomi said, already edging away. "Taking some time off."

A younger man emerged from a neighboring house, pulling on thick gloves. "Nessa! Didn’t expect to see you up so early. Usually you’re still sleeping after your late shifts."

Xavier watched Naomi’s jaw tighten almost imperceptibly.

"Change of plans," she said, waving a hand dismissively. "Good to see you both, but we really must be going."

She tugged at Xavier’s sleeve, pulling him along before more questions could follow. They hurried down the street, leaving the curious neighbors behind.

"That could be a problem," Xavier muttered once they were out of earshot. "If you’re expected at work..."

"Gregor doesn’t know where I live," Naomi replied, her voice low. "But he might send someone looking if I don’t show up for work by like 3pm."

"Good thing we should be long gone by them."

They reached a small square near the eastern gate where several shops clustered together. The smell of fresh bread and roasting meat filled the air, mingling with the sharper scent of horses from a nearby stable.

"There," Naomi pointed to a shop with heavy furs hanging in the window. "Olga’s. Best winter gear in Vykengard, if you believe the locals. Or rather, if you believe Nessa’s memories."

Inside, the shop was warm and dimly lit, the walls lined with furs and leather goods. A stout woman with a single long braid looked up from a ledger as they entered.

"Nessa," she greeted, her voice gravelly. "Unusual to see you here. Your debts finally caught up with you?" She jerked her chin toward Xavier.

Naomi laughed. "Nothing so dramatic, Olga. I just need proper gear for my friend here."

Olga circled around her counter, eyeing Xavier critically. "Hearthome, eh? Business must be important to risk the mountain pass this time of year."

"Family matters," Xavier said smoothly. "Can’t be helped."

The woman grunted, then began pulling items from shelves and hooks. She laid out thick woolen undergarments, fur-lined boots, heavy cloaks, and leather gloves reinforced with what looked like metal scales.

"These first," she said, pushing the undergarments toward Xavier. "Then the outer layers. You can try them in the back."

Xavier gathered the items and disappeared behind a heavy curtain. The undergarments were scratchy but warm, the wool thicker than anything he’d worn before. He pulled them on, then added the outer layers—dark trousers, a heavy tunic, and a leather jerkin that fit snugly across his chest.

When he emerged, Naomi was examining a pair of boots. She looked up, her eyes widening slightly as they took in his appearance.

"Well," she said, "you clean up nicely."

Olga snorted. "The clothes make the man, as they say. Though this one had a good foundation to start with." She circled Xavier, adjusting the fit of the jerkin. "You’ll need the cloak too. And these." She handed him the boots Naomi had been examining.

The boots were lined with soft fur and came up almost to his knees. They fit perfectly, as though made for him—or rather, for the body he now inhabited.

"Now you," Olga said to Naomi. "That dress won’t keep you alive in the mountain pass."

"I have my own things at home," Naomi protested.

"Nessa’s dancing dresses and thin cloaks? I think not." Olga pulled more items from her shelves. "Here. Proper traveling clothes."

Naomi sighed but took the offered garments behind the curtain. Xavier used the opportunity to examine the shop more carefully. Various weapons hung on one wall—knives, short swords, even a few crossbows. Useful, potentially, if they ran into trouble on the road.

"How much for one of those?" he asked, nodding toward a knife with a bone handle.

"More than you can afford, I’d wager," Olga replied, but she took the knife down anyway. "Ironwinter steel. Rare these days. Keeps its edge even in the deepest cold."

Xavier tested the weight of the blade. It was perfectly balanced, the handle fitting his grip as though made for it. "How much?"

"Fifty silvers."

He winced. "That’s steep."

"That’s fair," Olga countered. "You won’t find better this side of the mountains."

The curtain rustled as Naomi emerged. She wore thick trousers tucked into fur-lined boots, a fitted tunic belted at the waist, and a short jacket lined with some kind of silvery fur. Her purple hair was pulled back in a simple braid.

"What do you think?" she asked, turning in a small circle.

I want to fuck her again.

"It’ll do."

Naomi rolled her eyes. "And here I thought you’d grill the outfit like you did for me at the dress store."

"Those were outfits for socializing," Xavier pointed out. "This is just... practical."

"If my man and I are going on a world changing adventure, he’s going to do it in style," Naomi declared, adjusting the collar of his jerkin.

Xavier nearly choked. "Your man?"

"For now," Naomi replied, her eyes meeting his. "I’m still deciding whether I want to be your little power slut or not."

This time Xavier did choke, coughing violently while Olga let out a bark of laughter.

"Girl’s got spirit," the shopkeeper said approvingly. "You’d better keep up, boy."

Naomi smiled sweetly. "He tries his best."

When Xavier recovered, his face felt warm despite the shop’s chill. "How much for everything?" he asked Olga, desperate to change the subject.

The shopkeeper tallied their purchases. "Two hundred and thirty silvers, including the knife."

Xavier blanched. "That’s—"

"Put it on my account," Naomi interrupted.

Olga raised an eyebrow. "You sure? That’s a lot of coin, girl."

"I’m good for it," Naomi said firmly. "Consider it an investment in our future."

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