Villainess is being pampered by her beast husbands
Chapter 138 --138

Chapter 138: Chapter-138

.Suddenly, the one to break the silence wasn’t Kyuu, but that little sparrow who had been sulking nearby the entire time.

"Creep!!" he screeched.

(WHAT!)

Kaya rolled her eyes and rubbed her temple, trying hard not to snap. "I’m a normal person, alright? I don’t know what your chirping means half the time. So could you please step aside and let someone else talk for once?"

She was trying her best to stay calm, but her patience was already wearing thin.

The sparrow, however, just kept staring at her like he’d seen a ghost.

And really, he was in shock.

Sure, there were people here and there who were "educated," but that was a word from the past. Long past. Back in the day, there had been schools, scrolls, records... but all of that had been wiped out long ago. Now, barely anyone knew how to read, let alone speak more than one language fluently. And here was this strange woman—fierce, blunt, and nothing like a soft-spoken "lady"—saying someone’s name with perfect pronunciation?

Cutie stepped forward, blinking. His expression was full of confused curiosity.

"Wait... do you... I mean, are you educated?" he asked, hesitantly.

Kaya stared at him, momentarily stunned.

What kind of question was that?

She wasn’t a scholar or anything, but come on—she went to school, passed exams, trained in the military. She wasn’t illiterate. Of course she could read and write. Hell, she could even write a full report if needed.

"...I’m not a genius or anything," Kaya muttered, "but yeah. I’m educated."

She looked around and suddenly noticed just how stunned everyone was. Even the Nikala beastmen had gone still.

Apparently, to them, education was almost a myth—something they’d only heard of in old stories. In fact, the last known record of someone who could read was from hundreds of years ago, and even then, all they had left was a stone carving of his face and a legend that he knew "seven whole words."

Seven. Words.

No wonder they were staring at her like she had just performed magic.

Kaya sighed, rubbing her neck awkwardly. "It’s really not that big a deal, you know..."

But judging from their expressions, to them—it was.

...

Half an hour later, Kaya sat cross-legged on a large green leaf laid out on the ground. Around her were the Nikala tribesmen and her companions, all gathered quietly.

She looked at them, her brows furrowed in confusion.

"So... wait a second," she began slowly, "you’re saying there were people who knew how to read and write? But that was... what? Hundreds of years ago?"

Everyone nodded.

"And... there used to be schools? Actual schools? Education systems? But all of it got destroyed too... also hundreds of years ago?"

Again, they all nodded solemnly, like it was common knowledge.

Kaya blinked. "What the hell...?"

She leaned back on her hands, eyes wide, trying to process everything. "You’re telling me the whole damn world forgot how to read? Just like that?"

One of the older beastmen looked at her and shrugged, as if to say, pretty much.

Seriously?

Kaya stared blankly ahead, her thoughts spiraling.

She had never—not even once—imagined that beastmen in this world, this Stone Age reality, could have once been literate. She had already been shocked enough just seeing them in their human forms. They were animals. At least, they were supposed to be. Then suddenly—bam! They’re walking, talking, trading, wearing clothes... What next? Wanting to become gods?

Even when she had first gone to the market, she had noticed it—some had clothes made from cotton. Real, handmade cotton. She had blinked in disbelief but kept it together, thinking, Okay, fine. Maybe someone evolved and figured out weaving. She’d accepted it.

Then came the pottery. Handmade clay pots. Ugh, okay—people gotta eat, right? That too she had swallowed down with a sigh, chalking it up to survival instinct. You turn human, you learn to make utensils. That’s fine.

But now this?

Now they were saying there used to be schools. Full-blown educational systems. Teachers. Foundations. And it was wiped out around 200 years ago.

And the most terrifying part?

No trace of it was left. No writings. No books. No scrolls. No parents passing knowledge to their kids. Just... gone. Like someone had come through and wiped it from their minds completely.

How is that even possible?

In her world, even after devastating wars—even world wars—humanity clung to its knowledge. Schools were burned, yes. Libraries destroyed. But there were always people—refugees, rebels, elders—who remembered. Who taught the next generation, even if it was under candlelight in hidden corners.

But here?

Nothing.

No oral tradition, no secret teacher hiding somewhere, not even someone who could scribble their name on bark. It’s as if the concept of writing itself had been scratched out from their minds.

How? Kaya wondered.

How can an entire species forget?

And more importantly... who made them forget?

Suddenly, a jolt of thought struck her mind—sharp, electric, undeniable.

"Wait a minute..."

Her eyes widened as the realization bloomed inside her, uncontainable. She shot up from her seat, her expression frozen in shock. There was only one possibility that could explain it all.

What if... just like her, someone else had also been transmitted into this world?

Maybe... others had come before her. Maybe some had even managed to return. And maybe—just maybe—something had happened during that process. Something that wiped out their knowledge, erased their footprints, and scattered their legacy like dust in the wind.

The thought was enough to make Kaya feel both joy and sorrow at the same time. Joy—because if this assumption was right, then there was a way back. Sorrow—because the cost seemed far greater than she had imagined.

If people from her world had indeed been brought here before... then who or what was bringing them? And more importantly, why?

But what chilled her more than that was the erasure. The vanishing of every trace of knowledge, like it had never existed. Schools—gone. Books—gone. Structures and systems—erased so thoroughly it was as if the very idea of them had been forbidden.