First Supper

The young duo had decided that before leaving the ravine, they would take a moment to rest. Buck was too injured to run at full speed, and Aki remained pensive, analyzing the surroundings.

Buck's arm seemed to be in significantly less pain. The acid that had fallen on it had only reddened and weakened his skin without causing deeper damage. Now, after some rest, his arm felt completely fine, as if nothing had happened.

So, my ability really gave me accelerated recovery. This is both a relief and a curse, he thought as he woke up. His arm was still covered in the oily, slimy substance Akritene had applied earlier. But his awakening wasn't due to discomfort.

As he glanced toward the entrance of the ravine, he noticed Aki digging through the sand dunes a few meters beyond the cluster of rocks where they'd sought refuge. Using a shard of stone, she shoveled the sand aside with an urgency that suggested whatever she was unearthing was incredibly important.

Buck didn't linger in his makeshift bed. Rising quickly, he sprinted toward her, his thoughts racing to the worst possibilities. Grabbing a shard of sandstone as a makeshift weapon, he tore the bandage from his arm mid-run.

Could the ants be up to something? he wondered, praying that the battalion they had encountered the previous day wasn't still nearby.

Reaching Aki, he slowed down, his footsteps making faint noises on the ground. Gently, he placed a hand on her shoulder to avoid startling her. Even as he approached, his eyes scanned the area, panic rising as he prepared for the worst kinds of creatures to emerge.

"Aki, what's going on? Are the ants doing something?" he whispered, his voice filled with tension.

It was as if his words went in one ear and out the other. Aki remained focused on digging, her hands moving with relentless determination.

Then something emerged from the sand.

Seeing the object, Buck jumped back, gripping his sandstone shard tightly, ready to fight. But instead of a threat, Aki pulled out what appeared to be a bundle of leather tied into a ball, cradling it protectively as she dashed back into the ravine.

The item in her hands was, in fact, a piece of leather Buck had brought along, but it was bound as if it held something inside. Aki's gaze met Buck's, her eyes brimming with excitement, as though expecting him to share her enthusiasm.

"What exactly is that supposed to be? Why would you bury a piece of leather? You came from some kind of desert squirrel nest and is following now your instincts to stash things away?" he asked, his tone dripping with incredulity.

The questions hung in the air, unanswered. Instead, Aki raised an eyebrow, her expression unimpressed.

— While you were sleeping, I decided to take care of a few things. Someone had to stay awake, after all. Did you know that you butchered the Cackling Nightwing's leather so badly it would give any tanner a heart attack?

Did she have to say that out loud? My ego is low enough as it is—no need to stab it further. She just doesn't understand my refined, masculine craftmanship.

Unfazed, Aki continued, "I cleaned the pieces I had to avoid attracting scavenger monsters with the stench. And, well, while I was digging around, I struck gold—figuratively speaking."

With that, she untied the leather bundle, revealing something so divine that Buck's heart nearly stopped at the sight. For him, it was the meaning of life itself.

Inside the leather were small slices of meat, charred and cooked. There wasn't much, but it was enough to bring him to his knees.

"Wait… How did you even cook this? I didn't see anything around here that could do that!" he stammered, his disbelief mixing with a growing hunger.

— Sufuria is famous for sitting just a few hundred kilometers above the magma well that powers Farad-Ay. The deeper layers of sand here are as hot as a furnace. It's common practice to use the sand as an oven since charcoal is rare and expensive in these parts. It gives the meat a unique flavor and tenderizes it.

Buck's jaw dropped—not at Aki's ingenuity, but at the sheer unfairness of it all.

I could've eaten a proper steak before leaving the ruins if I'd known this! The world is so cruel. Fate despises me, he lamented internally, wanting to dig his own grave on the spot. Yet the aroma of the cooked meat quickly overpowered his self-pity.

He needed it. His body hadn't been fed since his reincarnation, and the sensation of slowly being consumed from within wasn't pleasant.

Aki watched him warily, her expression tinged with mild concern. Buck, meanwhile, resembled a starving beast staring at its prey. Drool dripped from his mouth like that of a famished dog.

— Buck, you'd better stop drooling, or you'll dehydrate to death.

Buck blinked, finally realizing his face was smeared with saliva. He wiped his mouth with his forearm and sat across from her, eyeing the bundle.

If it weren't for my clothes, I'd devour every last piece of meat in this pouch for an epic feast… he mused. Of course, there was another reason he didn't act on the impulse—his Reincarnation Marks.

His Reincarnation Marks spiraled across his face and torso, extending to one shoulder. If Akritene saw them, she might connect the dots and realize Buck was an Abyss Spawn. After all, the marks bore an abyssal appearance. No wealthy merchant would carry scars like these.

Buck's reluctance to reveal his identity as an Abyss Spawn was no longer about avoiding detection by the remnants of humanity's government. Rather, it stemmed from a fundamental truth about Abyss Spawns: they never trusted one another.

Abyss Spawns—or "Abyssals," as humans disparagingly called them—had good reason to mistrust their kind. Killing another Abyss Spawn granted an obscene amount of Stardust. Additionally, when an Abyss Spawn died, all relics synchronized to them became unclaimed, effectively reducing scarcity in the immediate vicinity.

This combination of greed and opportunity ensured Abyssals rarely cooperated, except under specific circumstances. The only place where Abyssals formed groups, as far as Buck knew, was within military units. But even there, blind trust between comrades was enforced not by loyalty but by the slave-like vaccine that bound them.

Despite his wariness, Buck couldn't abandon Akritene. Her knowledge of the area made her invaluable, and survival was easier with two people working together. It was common sense, after all.

Still, he resolved to monitor her closely once they were safe enough to survive alone. She could easily decide to steal the relic from a defenseless merchant too weak to cry for help.

Now seated, Buck grabbed a succulent strip of meat. The strong smell of ammonia wafted from it, but he had eaten worse. In fact, this smelled far better than his usual fare.

"Thanks for the meal," he said before biting into the meat with desire. Normally, Cackling Nightwing meat was notoriously tough—nearly impossible to chew—but Buck tore through the fibers with ease. The texture was firm yet satisfying, and the flavor was wild and exotic, spreading across his palate like a rich symphony.

I'm in heaven

he thought, his eyes rolling upward as if he had ascended to a higher plane of existence.

Meanwhile, Akritene gnawed on her own portion, biting off chunks and swallowing them with effort.

— I wouldn't have pegged a merchant to make that kind of face while eating monster meat. You're different from the others.

Buck froze, realizing his act as a wealthy merchant was crumbling. His carefully crafted strategy for surviving the desert without fighting—pretending to be a fragile man who only dealt in goods—seemed to be unraveling.

Damn it! I let my guard down. It's been years since I've eaten meat, and the sheer juiciness caught me off guard.

— I've eaten monster meat before, just to try it. I was already expecting the taste and texture.

— Just don't waste any of it. This might be the only food we'll have for the rest of the desert.

— Got it. Not a single piece will go to waste.

I've always cleaned my plate.

A sly smile tugged at his lips beneath his hood as he licked away a stray piece of meat.

Akritene, unfazed, focused on chewing the tough flesh of the monster.

For a few minutes, the peaceful meal continued. Despite the air of distrust and half-truths between them, it was a rare moment of appreciation for both—a memory that would not soon be forgotten.

The meal renewed Buck's strength, but it also heightened his awareness of the challenges ahead. His Reincarnation Marks, his abyssal origins, and the relic he carried were all secrets he needed to guard. Just for now.

Though she seemed genuine enough, the desert was a harsh, unforgiving place. Desperation could drive even the most honorable person to betrayal. But still, he started to trust her.

As the two finished their meal, Buck leaned back against the rocky wall of the ravine. "So, what's the plan from here? Do you know the closest safe route out of this area, right?"