Daisuke lightly flicked her forehead, and April covered the ache with her tiny hands, tears tipping her chestnut eyes.

“Only jerks would hate or bully people just because they’re different,” Daisuke responded. “Being a fairy doesn’t change the way that I feel about you.”

Daisuke’s response elicited smiles from everyone. April joyfully threw herself into his arms, but her delight turned to embarrassment when her stomach emitted a loud growl of hunger. In an almost comical sequence, the collective rumbling of everyone’s stomachs echoed in unison, and cheeks began to blush in shared embarrassment.

Daisuke laughed.

Rexar clutched his stomach with a pained expression. “Come to think of it, we left Wonderelle shortly after escaping the dungeon.”

“We haven’t had a bite to eat in nearly two days,” Milo, drained from depleting his mana, groaned, his soul seemingly departing through his wide-open mouth.

Zephyr was slumped lifelessly over Daisuke’s shoulder, a pink tongue sticking out of his mouth.

“Your bodies may be all healed up now,” said Daisuke to the people, “but to fully recover, you all need to have full bellies and plenty of rest.”

“Wait a minute,” Timartha began, “you don’t mean—”

“I’ll prepare a feast big enough for everyone,” Daisuke confirmed, and the Beastfolk started salivating at the thought.

“No, stop! We haven’t gone out to forage since the village was raided by the demons,” the woman asserted hotly. “That sacrifice will be utterly in vain if you start a fire.”

“She’s right,” said Feng in agreement. “The smoke from the fire and the smell of cooking food will attract monsters and even the remainder of the demons that still lurk in the forest.”

“You guys obviously have never been inside of a dungeon before,” Rexar defended haughtily. “I’ve seen the demons, and they are nothing compared to what we’ve faced for the past few weeks.”

“He’s right,” Milo agreed confidently. “I’m sure even Zephyr would be able to take all the demons by himself.”

“Kiyuu~”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Timartha retorted, but when she noted that the warriors’ expressions didn’t change, she knew that they were being very serious.

“Haxks and Zephyr have done more than enough for us already,” Elena chimed in with a smile. “As our honored guests, we’ll be responsible for handling any monsters or demons that may appear.”

Timartha sighed, passing a glance over the disheveled and emaciated figures of her people. She couldn’t tell the last time any one of them had a proper meal; their diets had mostly consisted of mushrooms, fruits, and vegetables, which was hardly enough for them to maintain good health.

“Very well,” she reluctantly conceded. “But if the worst happens, you and your kin can be prepared to be haunted by me until the end of time.”

The Beastfolk erupted in cheers, and Daisuke couldn’t help but cringe, uncertain whether their joy stemmed from the promise of being fed or the grim and horrible fate he might face if he got them all killed.

***

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the landscape in the warm hues of twilight, the flickering flames beneath a sizable pot cast a glow on the faces of the eager village folk.

Elena led a cohort of capable women in the peeling and cutting of carrots and potatoes—generously supplied from a certain someone’s well-stocked inventory—to add a touch of richness to the bubbling stew in the pot. The air carried the fragrant aroma of ingredients harmoniously merging, creating an enticing symphony for the senses.

Meanwhile, Daisuke meticulously carved monstron, fish, and vegetables into bite-sized portions. Nearby, a group of men crafted skewers from tree branches, which were used to prepare kebabs.

Once the preparation of the food was complete, the feast was arranged on a long table adorned with freshly baked bread and an array of ripe fruits. The eager Beastfolk, their tails wagging in unison, formed a neat line with plates in hand, their anticipation palpable as they awaited their turn to be served.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Tentative bites gave way to audible sighs of delight, and soon, murmurs of appreciation began to ripple through the people. A few, their eyes glistening, couldn’t hold back tears as they savored each flavorful morsel.

“I-It’s delicious… is this real? I never thought I’d taste something so wonderful,” whispered a young woman, wiping away a tear that traced a path down her cheek.

A middle-aged man, with a hearty laugh between bites, exclaimed, “I forgot how good it feels to be full. Bless the hands that prepared this feast!”

“This… this tastes like a dream,” whispered Sylvia with glee. “How is it so delicious? I never imagined I’d taste something this good again.”

“It’s like a taste of heaven after all this time,” Timartha admitted candidly, her thin lips pulling up into a smile.

Tears welled up in Mia’s eyes. “His cooking has only become better with time,” she admitted in a bittersweet tone. “I wish the others were here to enjoy this with me.”

“This is more than food,” Aldric exclaimed while wailing excessively. “It’s a blessing!”

For the first time in weeks, the children wore contented smiles on their lips. Those who had satisfied their hunger ran and played with Zephyr and April in tow.

In the midst of effusive displays of gratitude to Daisuke, the adults, overcome with a newfound lightness, burst into spontaneous song and dance around the crackling fire. Their harmonious voices, heightened by the magic of the night, echoed beneath the starry sky as the Beastfolk celebrated with abandon. In this jubilant moment, hunger and despair gave way to a feast of happiness and hope.

***

An owl-like creature, wrapped in impressive white plumage, majestically perched on a nearby tree, seemingly observing the celebrations of the village folk.

Sylvia, captivated by the crisp night air, inhaled deeply, savoring the melody of insect screeches that resonated above the distant singing. Her eyes, half-lidded in wonder, gazed upwards at the billows of clouds that momentarily eclipsed the half moon, creating a spectacle that added an extra layer of magic to the night.

“I was wondering where you ran off to,” said Daisuke by means of greeting. “Is everything okay?”

Sylvia shifted her gaze back into the distance, only to note that her feathered spectator was gone. “I’m fine,” she replied with a failed attempt at wholeheartedness. “I just have a lot on my mind is all.”

Daisuke’s eyebrows knitted shrewdly. “Is it related to the indignation you were feeling earlier?”

Sylvia’s lips twitched in response, and there was a prolonged moment of silence.

“Sorry… I didn’t mean to pry. Forget I asked.”

Before he could turn to leave, Sylvia’s lips parted. “The village chief is my grandmother…”

“Huh? Then does that mean…”

Sylvia nodded her head morosely. “The daughter she lost was my mother.”

“…The demons?”

She nodded once more. “After mom died, I couldn’t bear the thought of staying here. I convinced myself that my departure was driven mainly by the need to find a solution for the waning power of the magic staff. Yet, deep down, I think I was simply running away from the overwhelming grief—perhaps to find another sanctuary, or maybe just to defy my grandmother. Whatever the case, I felt an urgent need to escape from this place.”

“…I’m sorry,” Daisuke murmured with genuine sympathy, “for both the loss of your mother and for bringing up painful memories.”

Sylvia heaved a wan smile. “My mother was the previous village chief, and much like my grandmother, they were both hopelessly stuck in their ways.”

Daisuke suddenly remembered when the woman refused to hand over the Warden’s Staff to Elena.

“Despite losing their loved ones to war and strife, both my mother and grandmother stubbornly clung to this forest that has witnessed generations of Beastfolk. I just can’t understand it,” she exclaimed, clenching her fists. “If we can’t win against the demons, then why do we stay when hiding isn’t even enough? Are lives worth less than sentimentality?”

Daisuke approached the fence where Sylvia stood, peering into the moonlit forest. “I can’t bring back those lost to the demon raids,” he said, his voice soft. “But I’ll do everything in my power to uncover why the demons keep coming. I’ll ensure you won’t need to run away again.”

Sylvia’s eyes quivered as she took in Daisuke’s profile. He had to be a least five years younger than her, and yet his words carried such weight and reassurance. “Why would you risk your life for ours?”

Daisuke blinked, turning the full might of his confident, butterscotch eyes on her. “Zephyr, April, and Mia are the only family I have left. You and Feng kept your promise to protect them, even in the face of adversity, so it’s only right that I return the favor.”

Sylvia beamed at his words. But you’ve already done more than enough, she thought inwardly, knowing that articulating the words wouldn’t have swayed him from his course.

“By the way,” said Daisuke, “do you remember that girl in the hooded cloak—”

“Who never spoke and always kept to herself?” added Sylvia knowingly. “She disappeared when we left the manor.”

Daisuke frowned.

“I vividly remember her fleeing into the forest with us, but the next time we got a moment to do a headcount of the children, she was already missing.”

“Did she intentionally slip away or—"

Sylvia shook her head sadly. “It’s hard to say; since she’s never uttered a single word to anyone, we were never able to get a fix on her personality or ambitions.”

GROWL~

The tension suddenly dispersed when Sylvia’s stomach protested loudly, and Daisuke chuckled, much to the woman’s embarrassment.

“Your thoughts have settled now, right?”

Sylvia nodded, her cheeks still hot.

“You should head back and eat before all the food is gone.”

“H-Hn,” she nodded like a child. “What about you?”

“I’ll be a minute.”

“Okay.”

Alone, Daisuke summoned his status window to appraise the items that had dropped from Osten and his cronies during their ill-fated attempt to PK them just outside the dungeon.