Twenty more houses down.
We found one loaf of stale bread, some dried beef, and the bottles of beer from earlier.
That was it.
I stared at the crusty bread in my hands. "You think this is even safe to eat?" I muttered, stretching out my tongue like a kid testing bathwater. "I mean, getting poisoned's probably a better way to go than starving, right?"
Lance didn't even flinch. "We had it worse during the war," he said flatly. "Some soldiers ate diseased limbs from their own fallen men. It's a miracle any of us survived."
I stopped mid-bite. "What the hell, man."
He just shrugged. "You asked."
"And yet another reason I'm glad I wasn't born in your generation." I sighed, stuffing the food into my bag. I did not need that mental image right now.
Back at the hideout, I pulled aside the half-shredded curtain we'd hung up to keep out scavengers.
"Ah, there you guys are," a familiar voice chuckled.
Hogan.
He was sitting near the back of the room, slicing apples on a metal plate he'd found and somehow washed.
"No need for that, Hogan." I grinned, taking an exaggerated bow as I set down our haul. "I present to you… the spoils of war."
He eyed the measly pile of stale bread and jerky. "Oh good. Thought we were gonna starve to death before we even left here."
At the sound of our voices, Connie stirred, ears twitching slightly. I still wasn't used to her… whole thing. The giant rabbit head, the fur-covered arms and legs, the inhumanly strong legs. Just a little unsettling.
She got up, glanced at our pile, then sighed. "Finally. Some real food. There isn't even grass here."
Then she closed her eyes, silent. Still.
A few seconds later, her rabbits started filing into the room.
I blinked. "Did you just… call them? With your mind?"
"Of course, idiot." She barely spared me a glance. "They're my family. Unlike you stupid humans, they actually listen."
I squinted at her. This wasn't normal.
Even for her.
"Okay, but how?" I pressed. "Is it magic? Or—oh! Is it like those dog whistles that only animals can hear, except your version only works on rabbits?"
Connie just scoffed.
Before she could answer, Hogan cut in. "Nah, nah. It's nothing like that." He waved his knife dismissively, like he was some kind of human-rabbit expert now. "It's just a Connie thing. She can control rabbits. With, get this—"
He paused dramatically.
"—HER MIND."
"What??????"
I blinked. Hard.
Connie and Lance sighed at the same time—then immediately turned to glare at each other.
Meanwhile, Lance continued rationing out the food while Hogan nudged a half-asleep Meili awake.
"As weirdly as the Axe-human puts it," Connie huffed, "it is true. But I don't control them. I merely speak to them… through our souls. And they respond to it."
I stared at her. "That… sounds like magic."
Magic existed in PrideFall, but it was rare. I'd seen the mages at the Academia conjure fireballs the size of their fists or stir up weak gusts of wind, but that was it. Magic was barely understood—let alone practical.
But this? Talking to animals through the soul? That sounded more advanced than anything I'd ever heard.
"How do you do it?" I asked.
For a second, Connie hesitated. Genuine hesitation.
Then she snapped. "I—I don't—Shut up and eat."
Well. That was the end of that conversation.
Lance passed me my plate.
A piece of moldy bread (Lance had tried to cut off the worst of it) and a single string of jerky.
I glanced at the others' plates. More food. Not a lot more, but more. Enough.
That's right. We were knights. Fighters. The others were survivors.
For once, I wished I wasn't a knight.
"Want some, Kev?"
I looked up. Hogan. Holding out his piece of beef.
Lance's disapproving glare was burning into the side of my face.
Ah. This felt weirdly familiar. Like when my mother used to motion at me not to take candy from strangers.
I swallowed down the lump in my throat. I missed her.
"No thanks, Hog."
"No, I insist. Besides—" he flexed dramatically, "I'm vegetarian."
…What?
I blinked again. "You're what?"
"Vegetarian," Hogan repeated cheerfully, passing me the beef anyway. "Means I only eat fruits and veggies. Helps me grow big and strong!"
Connie furrowed her brows. "Vejita… ran?"
I snorted. "Vegetarian, Connie."
Her ears twitched. "That just sounds like more ways to starve." She tore into her piece of jerky without hesitation.
I frowned. "Wait—rabbits can eat meat?"
"I can eat whatever I want."
…That didn't answer the question.
Hogan, unfazed, grinned and ruffled Bacon's ears. "Besides, if I ate meat, that'd mean one day I'd have to eat Bacon. And I could never do that, could I, Baky-waky?"
I sighed as the pig snorted happily, clearly enjoying the attention. Hogan really was a pacifist through and through.
"Kevin, are you sure this isn't beer—" Lance grimaced as he spat out the liquid, "but actual piss?"
Hogan and I burst out laughing.
Lance settled down beside us, still scowling. He'd taken the smallest portion of food for himself, because of course he did.
Silver nudged my arm. I chuckled and tossed her a small piece of jerky.
Meanwhile, Lance—ever the resourceful one—picked up a rag, poured some of the alcohol on it, and pressed it against Meili's burn wounds.
She tensed, hissing softly, but didn't resist.
Good girl. She understood.
It had to be done.
We couldn't afford infection. Not now. Not when we were this close.
I glanced down at my arms. Pink, tender patches of flesh stretched across my skin, the remnants of where the purple slime had seeped through. They stung a little, but… I didn't feel sick. That was something, at least.
For the first time in a long time, we all sat together, having a meal.
Sunlight filtered through the tattered curtains, illuminating floating dust particles in the air. The city outside was still dead. The streets still barren. The air still heavy with rot.
Everything wasn't alright.
But for now, we were okay.
And somehow, that made a warm feeling blossom in my chest.
"This reminds me of how my parents and I used to eat together at home," I mused absentmindedly.
The words slipped out before I even thought about them.
My father was originally from PrideFall. My mother came from a merchant town called Pert. We'd sit together every morning, eating bread and stew, then every night, chatting idly about our day.
I missed them.
I'd left home at eighteen to join the military, just before the slime invasion started. And after everything… I still hadn't been able to check on them.
I hoped they were okay.
A beat of silence.
Then—
"I know I'm not the most emotionally considerate," Connie sighed, ears twitching slightly, "but is that really something you should say—to this group?"
…Huh?
For a second, I didn't get it.
Then it hit me.
And I internally cursed myself.
"No, no, it's okay," Hogan cut in quickly, smiling—but it didn't reach his eyes.
But it wasn't okay.
Meili's parents were probably dead. Consumed in the same invasion that swept through the outskirts of PrideFall.
Hogan's father had died two years ago. His mother? Presumably gone.
Connie… Goddesses knew how she even spawned into existence, but from what I could tell, she'd always been alone.
Lance— he was older than the rest of us. His wife, the king's sister, had died in childbirth. His daughter had died years later.
And Fee— even though she wasn't here, she had no elves around her. Her closest companions had probably died… or abandoned her.
Or maybe… it was the other way around.
Every single person in this group had lost someone.
Yet here I was, flaunting the fact that maybe—just maybe—I still had mine.
"Don't beat yourself up about it, Kevin."
I looked up.
Lance.
"It truly is okay."
But I could see the way his shoulders tensed.
Could hear the exhaustion in his voice.
Could feel the way his presence dimmed slightly, as if a cloud had passed over him.
Lance was always steady. Always strong. Always our leader.
Even now, after staying up all night keeping watch and waking up early to scout for supplies, he was still pushing forward.
"I'm going to sleep for a while, Sir Kevin." His voice was flat. Tired. "Stay vigilant."
Then, as he leaned back against the wall, he added:
"Why don't you make yourself useful and search for the cannon, now that your belly is full?"
…Huh.
Was that actual condescension?
Or was I just imagining it?
"Yes, Sir!" I snapped to attention, slinging my shield over my back and sliding my sword into its scabbard.
"Oi, Kev. Need any help with that?" Hogan asked, hefting his lumberjack axe as if ready to follow me.
"No," Lance answered before I could. "We're a unit. We each have a role to play." His tone left no room for argument. "Apply the salve on yourself and rest. Once you're done, patrol the rest of the city for anything useful."
Hogan gave a lazy salute before grabbing the bottle of ointment.
"If you see anything suspicious, Sir Kevin—" Lance added, his voice sharpening slightly, "report back immediately."
"Of course, Sir Lancelot," I said, stepping toward the torn curtain leading outside.
It swayed gently as I pushed through, stepping into Orion's hollow streets.