To set foot on the outer battlefield as a scavenger, one needed formidable strength—at the very least Rank Seven, and often even higher. Rory was well aware of that frightening reality. She had not reached such heights yet, and she harbored absolutely no illusions about it.
She had seen the public records of Prince Vincent and the Empire’s First Commander displayed on the light-brain before—countless pages of achievents glittering like untouchable trophies, glorious victories stacked upon victories.
To many, those records inspired awe and blind admiration. To Rory, they simply felt distant. People like them existed in a world far removed from her own, walking paths she would never cross. Because of that, she had never bothered to follow their exploits closely.
Rory was practical to the bone.
Rather than wasting ti gazing at figures forever beyond her reach, she focused on what lay directly in front of her—hunting more beasts, earning more star coins, and steadily improving her life one small step at a ti. Survival and progress mattered more than lofty legends.
To outsiders, it might have looked as if she had lost the last sparkle of a bright child in her.
After walking for nearly an hour through the dim forest, Rory suddenly slowed her steps.
Her eyes caught on a low cluster of vivid red berries glowing faintly beneath the canopy. Each fruit was no larger than a blueberry, yet she knew from experience that their flavor rivaled even ripe strawberries—sweet, tangy, and dangerously addictive.
The problem lay in the plant itself.
Its branches and leaves were coated in fine, almost invisible, needle-like thorns. A single careless brush could release a numbing toxin that left fingers stiff and useless for hours. Harvesting them required patience and preparation.
Rory reached into her storage band and pulled out two pairs of reinforced protective gloves, tossing one pair to Dax.
"Here," she said calmly. "Help gather these."
Seeing how much she clearly liked the berries, Dax accepted the gloves without complaint. He slipped them on and imdiately began plucking the fruit with quick, careful movents.
"The thorns are poisonous," Rory warned, her voice steady. "One prick and your fingers will go numb. Be careful."
Dax’s grin widened instead of fading, his eyes bright with enthusiasm.
"Female Master," he said lightly, "if it’s fruit you enjoy, a few scratches won’t kill . I’m glad to help."
A subtle warmth spread through him at the realization that Rory was looking out for him. That quiet concern mattered more than he cared to admit.
Nearby, Mindy Lane grimaced as Rory casually popped one of the berries into her mouth.
"You’re actually eating those?" Mindy asked, disbelief dripping from her tone.
Ordinarily, she wouldn’t even glance at sothing so small and rustic.
Gina, however, edged closer, curiosity overtaking her skepticism.
"Rory, these berries are tiny," she said. "How do you even eat them?"
Rory glanced at the growing pile of red fruit in her container.
"You can eat them fresh, or turn them into jam," she explained. "Mix them with water, spread it on bread—it’s good no matter how you prepare it."
At the ntion of jam, Gina’s eyes lit up instantly.
"Wait... you an the jam you gave last ti?"
Earlier that year, Rory had shared a small jar of homade red jam with Gina—an unassuming gift that had left a surprisingly deep impression.
"Yeah," Rory replied with a nod. "That one."
Gina’s expression brightened.
"Then I’m picking so too! Can you teach how to make it when we get back?"
"Of course," Rory said easily. "No problem."
As Gina and her mate eagerly joined in, pulling on gloves and reaching for the branches, Dax’s pace subtly quickened. Irritation simred beneath his calm exterior. Rory had been the one to find the berries—yet everyone had swooped in without hesitation.
Is she really that oblivious? he thought darkly. They’re taking her berries, and she doesn’t even care.
Worse still, she was casually sharing her cooking thods as if they were worthless secrets.
There hadn’t been many berries to begin with. With so many hands harvesting at once, the cluster was stripped bare in no ti.
Rory glanced at the basket Dax had filled and blinked.
"Wow, Dax. You’re fast—you picked a lot."
He curled his lip slightly.
"You call this a lot, Female Master? You found them, and everyone else jumped in."
Rory was far too easygoing for her own good—but Dax was not.
Gina and her mate exchanged awkward looks. He wasn’t wrong. They had taken more than their fair share.
Rory calmly tucked the berries into her stasis band, then reached out to pat Dax’s shoulder in reassurance.
"It’s fine," she said gently. "This is more than enough for jam. When we get back, I’ll make so for you."
Since Dax had done most of the work, he deserved his portion.
The thought of fresh jam imdiately soothed his irritation.
"Then I’m learning how to make it with you," he said firmly.
Rory smiled.
"Sure. I’ll teach you."
Once everyone finished gathering what little remained, the group resud their journey eastward. Gina leaned closer to Rory, chuckling softly.
"Your suitor isn’t bad at all," she said. "He actually knows how to stand up for you."
Rory didn’t respond right away. She had noticed it too—and the realization surprised her. Ever since they had left ho, Dax seed subtly different.
They continued east for several more hours, stopping whenever Rory spotted edible herbs so she and Dax could collect them. By two or three in the morning, they reached a wide clearing and paused briefly to rest.
Rory took out two vials of red energy fluid and handed one to Dax.
"We can’t rest long," she said. "We need to locate a beast herd soon."
The energy fluid would restore stamina quickly—but that didn’t make it pleasant.
Dax eyed the vial with thinly veiled reluctance. Even though it wasn’t the cheapest kind, he knew from experience that it tasted absolutely terrible.
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