[Null POV] Year 0, Day 2

  "Great. So I look the part AND become immune to holy magic. Win-win."

  Null stored her current outfit and—

  Nothing happened.

  She tried again. Store current equipment. Equip maid uniform.

  Still nothing.

  "...How do I change clothes?"

  "What?"

  "In the game it was just click-click, menu selection, instant swap. Here there's no menu. No interface. How do I actually... physically change equipment?"

  There was a pause.

  "Great One," Void said carefully, "when I changed into my clothing, it was... I simply put it on. Physically. With my hands."

  "You mean I have to actually undress and redress like a normal person?"

  "It appears so, Host. The game abstraction doesn't exist here. This is physical reality."

  "Wonderful."

  Null looked down at her current outfit. The dark robes, the leather armor pieces integrated into the design, the—

  Was that a corset?

  She pulled at the robes and discovered that yes, there was indeed a corset-like structure in the center with what appeared to be an alarming number of laces and ties holding everything together.

  "How did I even put this on originally?" she muttered, trying to find where the fastenings started.

  "You didn't, Host. You woke up wearing it. This is the first time you've actually tried to change equipment in this world."

  "Great. Perfect. This is going well."

  Null spent the next several minutes wrestling with her current outfit. The corset alone was a nightmare—intricate lacing that seemed to have no clear beginning or end, integrated with the armor in ways that made no sense, and apparently everything was part of a set because when she tried to remove just the top half, she discovered the entire outfit wanted to come off as one piece.

  Even the underwear.

  "Are you KIDDING me?" she said, finally managing to get the whole thing off. "This entire outfit is a single unified set? Who designs equipment like this?"

  "Game logic, Host. In the game, it was probably just one equipment slot. Here, that translates to everything being physically connected."

  Through their connection, Null felt Void's attention sharpen—like he wanted to say something but was uncertain whether to interrupt. The hesitation was palpable.

  "What?" Null asked, noticing.

  Void shifted uncomfortably, clearly debating. Then: "Great One... that your equipment forms a complete unified set is... extraordinary. I've only read about such things in legends. Matching sets—where every piece is designed to work together—provide significant magical synergy. Enhanced effects. Greater power. But even the wealthiest nobles rarely possess more than a few matching pieces. A coat and trousers, perhaps. Maybe a full suit of armor if they're exceptionally fortunate."

  "But you have everything. Every piece. Robes, armor, boots, belt, accessories—all part of one cohesive set. That's..." He seemed to struggle for words. "That's artifact-level craftsmanship. The kind of thing only mentioned in ancient texts. I've never heard of anyone actually possessing such a thing. It's beyond rare. Beyond valuable."

  He paused, then added quietly: "Though I suppose I shouldn't be surprised anymore. You wear a full set of Legend-class equipment as casually as most people wear common clothes."

  "More evidence that you're walking around with a kingdom's worth of wealth," Spy observed dryly. "Just in case that wasn't clear already."

  Null stood there naked in the desert, holding her old outfit in one hand and the maid uniform in the other, already dreading what came next.

  "I've seen you bisect three people in a single sword stroke," Spy added. "Watching you lose a fight to a corset is... humbling."

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  She tried to put on the maid uniform.

  It immediately became clear this was going to be worse.

  The outfit had layers. Multiple layers. Each with its own fastenings, ties, adjustments. There was structure to it—boning, support elements, magical armor integration—and everything had to go on in a specific order or nothing fit properly.

  She got the base layer on. Then tried the corset piece. It wouldn't close.

  "Wrong orientation," she muttered, turning it around. Tried again. Still wouldn't close.

  "Host... do you need help?"

  "No! I can dress myself. I'm an adult. I've been dressing myself for years."

  "In your old body, Host. With simple clothing. This is different."

  "Also," Spy continued, "in all the scenarios I imagined when we fled Heaven, 'defeated by women's clothing' was not on the list."

  Thirty minutes later, Null was still struggling. She'd gotten most of the outfit on, but something was wrong. It didn't fit right. Parts bunched up incorrectly. The pieces weren't sitting properly. And the corset absolutely refused to lace correctly.

  She stood there, half-dressed, increasingly frustrated, completely unable to figure out what she was doing wrong.

  Void and Spy had been completely silent throughout this entire spectacle.

  "Thirty minutes, Host," Spy finally said. "It's been thirty minutes. At least now we know why nobles have servants."

  "Alright, fine," Null finally said, giving up on her pride. "I need help. Void, you were in a female body for two centuries. You know how this works. Help me."

  Void, who had been very carefully looking at anything except Null for the past half hour, turned reluctantly. "I... yes, Great One. I can assist."

  He approached, maintaining extremely professional eye contact above her neckline. "The base layer needs to be smoothed first. You have it twisted. And the corset goes over the chemise, not under it. The structured pieces need proper foundation, so the corset must be secured before anything else. And the lacings go from bottom to top, not top to bottom."

  With practiced efficiency, Void adjusted the outfit, corrected her mistakes, and began properly assembling the complex garment. His movements were quick, professional, and betrayed extensive experience with exactly this type of clothing.

  "The battlemaids in previous households required assistance with their uniforms. It's part of the maintenance ritual—they often cannot properly dress themselves due to the complexity. The ritual of being dressed by servants reinforces their position in the household."

  "That's... weirdly psychological."

  "Battlemaids are products of psychological conditioning, Great One. Everything about them is designed to reinforce their role."

  Within minutes, Void had the entire outfit properly assembled, laced, adjusted, and secured. His hands moved with practiced efficiency, but there was something in his expression—a momentary hesitation when adjusting the final pieces, a slight tension in his movements that hadn't been there before.

  Null didn't notice. She was too busy examining the finished result.

  But Spy noticed.

  "Well, at least we know Void's two centuries of experience are good for something practical," Spy said, keeping his tone light.

  Null looked down at herself. The maid uniform fit perfectly now. Black and white, shorter skirt than practical, but clearly built for more than aesthetics. It looked dangerous and provocative simultaneously. The corset provided support and protection while emphasizing the form. The protective enchantments woven into the fabric were invisible but present.

  "How do you feel, Great One?" Void asked, stepping back. His voice was perfectly professional again, but his eyes lingered for just a fraction of a second before he turned away.

  Null moved experimentally. Everything was secure, nothing pinched or restricted movement. Despite looking elaborate, it was actually functional.

  "Better than expected. Mobile. Comfortable, even."

  "Battlemaid uniforms are designed for both aesthetics and combat functionality. The best ones cost fortunes because they must meet both requirements."

  "And now you're immune to holy damage while wearing it," Spy added. "Worth the thirty-minute dressing struggle."

  "Never doing that again without help," Null muttered. "How do people manage this daily?"

  "Servants, Great One. Nobles have attendants to help them dress. Battlemaids have handlers. Nobody does this alone."

  "Great. Another thing that's different from the game." Null adjusted the outfit one final time, checking mobility. Everything moved smoothly. The rapiers at her waist, everything integrated well with the uniform.

  In the brief silence that followed, Spy observed Void's carefully neutral expression, the way he kept his gaze firmly fixed on the horizon, the slight rigidity in his posture that spoke of someone maintaining iron control.

  Oh, Spy thought quietly to himself. That's... going to be complicated.

  But he said nothing. Null wouldn't understand even if he explained it. And Void would be mortified if it was acknowledged. Better to let it remain unspoken.

  For now.

  "Alright. This works. Let's add this to the suppression—don't want people sensing it's Legend-class."

  She focused on the uniform, willing it to hide its true nature. The same veil she'd placed over her other equipment settled over the maid outfit.

  "It appears as high-quality custom work now, Great One. Expensive but not impossibly so. Appropriate for a battlemaid serving a young noble."

  "Good." Null looked at Void. "Anything else I need?"

  "Just... try to look dangerous. Which shouldn't be difficult given your nature."

  "I can do dangerous."

  "Host, one more thing about that holy immunity—don't reveal it unless absolutely necessary. If people know you're immune to divine magic, they'll find other ways to deal with you. Keep it as a surprise advantage."

  "Agreed. No point advertising all our cards." Null settled into her new outfit, adjusting her stance. "So. Young master and his terrifying battlemaid. Ready?"

  "Ready, Great One. Or rather..." He straightened, adjusting his posture subtly. His demeanor shifted—less deferential, more confident. The bearing of someone accustomed to authority. "Ready, my dear battlemaid."

  The words were said with clear discomfort, but the acting was good.

  Null shifted her own stance. Less casual. More alert. Watchful. Ready.

  "Then let's go," Void said, speaking aloud now in his master's voice. "The Republic awaits."

  They turned east again and began moving—Void flying with measured dignity, Null running alongside at a pace that matched his flight speed. Master and servant, heading toward civilization.

  Behind them, the desert stretched empty and silent, holding its secrets.