The Sensation of Hunger

They climbed one after the other. The slope was steep and slick, demanding caution with every step.

Wawalde, however, moved with surprising agility. Despite his burns, the corrosive slime from his battle with the Slime King, and his tattered plate armor, he climbed as if unburdened.

Sovenia, by contrast, had emerged from the battle with her white clothes unstained and her breathing even, a benefit of the ‘Card of Infinite Possibilities.’ Playing a card required no toll, neither stamina nor magical energy.

Even so, this was the third time Sovenia had been granted an unsolicited view of Wawalde’s rear. The shredded mail skirt he wore barely covered half of his backside.

He still carried his axe in one hand, using the other to pull himself up the steep incline, pausing now and then to wait for her.

Sovenia was thoroughly displeased, cursing Black Claw under her breath.

But there was nothing to be done. She forced her legs to move, to climb, yet they felt as if they were filled with lead, and her arms grew heavy and weak.

She tried several times to overtake Wawalde, but failed.

“Sovenia, are you there?”

Sovenia instantly straightened, preparing a lie. “I’m here.”

Wawalde said nothing more and continued his ascent.

Growing impatient, Sovenia asked, “Was there something you needed?”

“Just wanted to make sure you were keeping up.”

The words landed like a steel-toed boot, crushing the pride she held as the First Heavenly King.

‘In my prime, I would have simply stomped my foot and leaped to the top.’

Sovenia took a deep breath, forcing her legs onward. But her body felt drained, and she simply couldn’t get past Wawalde no matter how she tried.

About three-quarters of the way up, Sovenia felt a growing sense that something was wrong.

A strange sensation emanated from her abdomen. It was utterly foreign. Even as a century-old demon who had witnessed countless battles, she couldn’t recall ever experiencing it before.

It was a hollow, powerless feeling that made her steps feel unsteady. Her stomach churned as if being stirred by an invisible hand, leaving her deeply uncomfortable.

When they finally reached the top of the slope, Sovenia ignored Wawalde’s outstretched hand and hauled herself over the edge.

The peculiar sensation only intensified.

‘What’s happening?’ She frowned, stopping to lean a hand against the rock wall. ‘Is it a curse? Some kind of slow-acting poison?’

She replayed the battle in her mind, certain she hadn’t been directly hit by any of the slime. This feeling had come on without any warning. Then, the emptiness grew stronger. Her limbs began to tremble, and for a fleeting moment, her vision swam.

“Are you all right, Miss Sovenia?” Wawalde asked. “Do you need to rest?”

His voice was laced with its own post-battle fatigue, but he was clearly in better shape than she was.

“I feel… as if my strength is draining away. My stomach is empty, and I’m a little… dizzy. I suspect some sort of affliction.”

Wawalde listened intently, his own brow furrowing as he studied Sovenia’s pale face. He took two steps closer, observing her condition carefully.

“Was it the sword?”

“No.”

“I’m not familiar with these kinds of demonic curses. Are you?”

“No.”

“Then…” Wawalde trailed off, lost in thought.

Just then, a distinct sound echoed from Sovenia’s abdomen.

“Guuuu—”

The noise was shockingly clear on the silent summit.

Sovenia’s body went rigid. “What was that? A prelude to a curse’s activation? The sound came from inside me!”

The grave expression on Wawalde’s face vanished, replaced by a mixture of surprise and understanding. He was silent for a moment before letting out a long sigh and shaking his head at her.

Sovenia felt utterly exposed before her once-beheaded foe.

‘He might as well stab me in the back again while he’s at it.’

“Just say it,” Sovenia said, her voice flat.

“You’re hungry.”

“Hungry?” Sovenia repeated the unfamiliar word. “Hungry? But I just won a battle.”

A century of demonic existence was a long time. Long enough to forget what it was like to be human, to feel hunger. A demon of her rank needed only slaughter and battle to draw energy.

They didn’t need to eat. They could build muscle, stay healthy, and remain immune to illness. The only side effect was the various ‘blessings’ that gave them such… distinctive appearances.

The strange look on Wawalde’s face deepened. “It’s *because* you fought that you’re hungry. Your body used up its energy. It’s perfectly normal. I happen to have a little food left. Would you like some?”

He pulled a bundle wrapped in oilcloth from a leather pouch on his hip, which was still smeared with slime.

Unwrapping it, he revealed a piece of rock-hard bread and a few strips of dark, dried meat.

The food looked abysmal, giving off a faint smell of salt and smoke… and, of course, slime.

Sovenia looked from the black bread, which could have passed for a stone, to the gnawing emptiness in her stomach that was growing more intense by the second.

She didn’t hesitate. She reached out and took it.

She started with a small bite of the jerky. It was dry, tough, and so salty it was almost bitter. But as she chewed, the rich, savory flavor of rendered fat filled her mouth.

When she swallowed, her stomach seemed to contract with a familiar craving. It was remarkably similar to the feeling she got when lopping off heads in battle.

She cast aside her reservations and began to eat in earnest, tearing voraciously at the dried meat.

Wawalde watched her devour the food. He didn’t find her table manners unbecoming; rather, he found them poignant. ‘Even a noble elven princess is reduced to this when she’s hungry. What a hard life she must have.’

His perception of her shifted once more. This princess, at least, was not delicate in the slightest.

Soon, all the food was gone. Sovenia felt strength return to her body, the weakness and dizziness vanishing. All that remained was a powerful thirst.

“You managed to eat all that without any water…” Wawalde remarked. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yes,” Sovenia grunted.

Wawalde looked at her, and a thought seemed to occur to him. “Have you ever eaten just to fill your stomach before?” he asked casually.

“Eat to fill my stomach?” Sovenia repeated, her tone one of genuine confusion. “Eating is for savoring flavors and for enjoyment. What does it have to do with filling one’s stomach? You just fight.”

The words had barely left her mouth when she realized her mistake.

‘Why is Wawalde asking so many questions?’

There was only one answer. She had revealed too much of her demonic mindset. It was as if she’d written ‘I am a great demon, and I don’t need jerky to fill my stomach, I just cut off heads’ right on her forehead.

She immediately clamped her mouth shut, her golden eyes fixed on Wawalde, watching his reaction.

‘He must have sensed something from my ignorance about hunger,’ she thought frantically. ‘He’s using this question to trap me.’

Wawalde simply blinked at her answer and nodded. “I see.”

‘I see? What does he see?’ Sovenia’s heart leaped into her throat.

‘He’s definitely marked me as a prime suspect now. As expected of a hero. His kindness makes him seem foolish, but that sharp intuition… it’s both troublesome and terrifying.’

But Wawalde was thinking something else entirely: ‘I see. She truly is an elven princess. She must have been surrounded by luxury and servants since birth, never knowing a moment of true hunger.’

‘For her, eating is just a pastime, not a necessity for survival. So this is what a real princess is like. I always thought they were just noble ladies with grander titles.’

Just then, a growl, much louder than Sovenia’s had been, broke the silence.

The sound came from Wawalde’s stomach.

Sovenia stared at him. Wawalde rubbed his abdomen, a little embarrassed. The prolonged battle and mental strain had depleted his energy as well.

“Are you hungry?” Sovenia asked.

“Yes,” Wawalde admitted. “Do you have any food?”

Sovenia instinctively pointed down the slope at the demon corpses. “Why don’t we go down and have a bite?”

‘It’s true,’ she thought. ‘Some demons need to eat, or they need to eat to heal. Recycling the energy from the corpses of our own kind is an excellent method—eco-friendly, energy-efficient, and convenient.’

“That’s a great deadpan joke,” Wawalde said. “Let’s not tell it again.”

Sovenia felt herself teetering on the very edge of exposure. If she were in Wawalde’s position, she would have long ago realized that the supposed elven princess was none other than Jimi the Cruel, the First Heavenly King.

She had to do something to save herself.

Looking at the slime-covered, weary hero with his broken weapon, an idea sparked in her mind.

He needed to eat and to rest. As it happened, she knew of a safe place nearby—her own private chambers. There was a kitchen inside, and in that kitchen, there was food she kept for her own enjoyment.

‘Humans need to eat. This is their weakness. All I have to do is add a little poison to his food, and I’ll have a way to harm this stupid dog. Then I can avoid being beheaded again when my identity is inevitably revealed.’

It was a perfect plan. All that was left was to lure the mutt to her lair.

“You see, you’re hungry too,” Sovenia said, her voice softening. “Why don’t we find a place to rest? I know Jimi the Cruel’s chambers are nearby, and I know how to get in. It will be safe…”

“There’s food in his room, too…”

As she spoke, Wawalde watched her, waiting for her to finish.

But the longer he looked, the more she felt his eyes were filled with suspicion. ‘Did he guess that I plan to poison his food?’

She wanted to touch his hand to check, but what excuse could she possibly invent? That would only expose her further.

Sovenia could only press on, convinced that if she could just get Wawalde to eat her food, everything would work out.

“And I… I’m a decent cook,” she continued. “You’ve been a tremendous help these past few hours. Please, allow me to prepare a meal for you as a reward. May I?”

At her words, a wide smile spread across Wawalde’s exhausted face.

Sovenia was reminded of a war hound she once owned. It also liked to grin like that.

“Really? That would be wonderful! To be honest, I’m starving. I’ll be in your care then, Miss Sovenia!”

‘The stupid dog took the bait. I knew it. I’m smarter than he is.’

Sovenia lowered her gaze, her long lashes concealing her eyes.

“You walk ahead. I’ll give you directions.”

As Wawalde started walking, he was still talking. “I never would have guessed Miss Sovenia could cook. That’s really…”

Following behind him, Sovenia said coolly, “Turn left at the next intersection.”