Cat Tufflin's Distress Signal

The cozy wooden door to the meeting room was pushed open, and a catgirl from Cat Tufflin slowly walked in.

Even at this hour before dawn, the Knight Commander wore a full suit of armor. Ghostcloth had been sewn into her skirt and armor, lightening the heavy plating that would otherwise weigh heavily on catgirls and allowing them to burst forth with speed no less than a rogue's.

Her cat ears lay quietly flat against her head. Sweat stained her face, her hair was a mess, and her expressionless features revealed a trace of exhaustion.

Huff...

Huff...

It was as if Jiang Han could hear her deep breaths.

She must have run all the way up from beneath the Giant Cat Tree... and without flying, too. It was no different from climbing thirty-four flights of stairs while wearing that lump of iron... Jiang Han found it both amusing and a little heartbreaking, so she reminded her:

"You should have written me a letter a few days ago and had a Cat Lamp bring it up. I'll purchase a batch of five-person leyline-powered airships that even landfolk can use. Then you won't have to run—won't have to run up here in such an unladylike way. I'll specifically arrange an airship for you, and I'll also prepare the number of airships the Cat Tufflin Knight Order needs as soon as possible."

"Thank you for your understanding." Hilde of Cat Tufflin did not refuse, but her voice was low, as though she did not know how to express gratitude.

This was what people called the temperament of old-school cats. They never liked to show off how pretty their tails were or how supple their bodies could be. They simply caught mice in silence—crack—and without toying with them, ended their lives directly before finding