Stray

That was what children were like. The female warrior lowered her gaze and poured the last wine into her throat. She rarely remembered that time anymore— Naive and stupid, she mistakenly thought that simple combat power could represent all ages.

She didn’t think much at the beginning, she glanced at the shabby and dilapidated daily necessities in the house and the dry straw in the corner, and subconsciously decided that this was the home of a refugee. She would take a few sips, and then saluted the empty room. Yes, as long as you add a little real warmth to your empty stomach, you really didn’t need to eat too much.

After the salute, Ann made a simple prayer and tremblingly picked up the heavy ladle.

The thick soup was stirred, and a corpse of a black flying insect floated to the top on the noodle soup. A feeling of nausea rushed to her throat again, and Ann forcefully pressed it down. The soup was boiling, and she squeezed the limited knowledge from her mind and told herself repeatedly— As long as the soup was boiling, there shouldn’t be any big problems if she ate it.

The soup tasted bad. It was thick and close to brown in the light of the fire, with a weird fishy smell, and it tasted almost salty. Something like a bean slid across Ann’s tongue, and she didn’t even dare to chew it, for fear that she would spit it out because she couldn’t stand the smell. It seemed as is there were plant tubers added to it as her throat felt it was about to be crushed to bits.

But Ann still resisted the discomfort and finished drinking a spoonful. Then she carefully put down the heavy metal soup spoon, and the emptiness and colic in her stomach disappeared, replaced by a slightly bitter satisfaction.

Ann didn’t know what time it was in the early hours of the morning. Most of the windows in the slums had been extinguished. Not far away came the crying of children, the screams of women and the curses of men. She had never been awake at this time, let alone exposed to such sounds. The young princess clung to her arms tightly, shaking like she was standing barefoot in the snow. She had to find a place, a place to take a nap— Ann could sense her abnormality, and the wound bitten by the insects must have worsened as the pain became unbearable. Her breathing was fast and rapid, and the temperature around her was incredibly cold.

She was probably suffering from a fever, Ann thought groggily.

Then another sense of numbness hit her.