RAGNA POV...
Although the Black Steel Knights stood watch around the carriages like iron statues that did not know fatigue, the reality of our situation did not soften in the slightest, because even under their protection we were still children with frail bodies and unavoidable needs, and sotis those needs forced us to step outside into a land that did not forgive hesitation.
The Great Desert of Death was not a place where one could afford even a breath too long beyond safety; a single misstep, a single delay, and the sand itself seed eager to claim another corpse.
Three six-year-old demon children had learned that in the cruelest way possible.
They had slipped out quietly, thinking no one would notice, perhaps believing they would return before the knights even turned their heads, but the mont their feet touched the open ground the zombie bees descended, and by the ti anyone realized what was happening, the children were nothing more than shriveled juice bags left twitching on the sand.
According to the Black Steel Knights, the insects did not kill imdiately; they paralyzed first, injecting a toxin that locked the body in place while leaving the victim conscious, and only then did they begin corroding the brain, slowly eating away at the very cells responsible for thought, making it impossible to think clearly, to run, or even to scream.
When I closed my eyes, I could almost feel that paralysis creeping over my own limbs.
Under normal circumstances, I would have been curious—no, excited—to step outside and test my curse Charm on those zombie bees, to see whether even such grotesque creatures could be bent beneath my will, but the prohibition alone was enough to restrain , and more than that, I did not know how many I could control at once, nor how quickly they would swarm before I could even activate the skill.
The zombie bees were not ordinary beasts; that much was obvious from the way the other demon children had died without resistance, without struggle, without even the dignity of retaliation.
After that incident, no one stepped down from the carriage unless it was absolutely necessary.
And yet, necessity ca often.
The carriages were small, suffocatingly so, and we were too many, bodies pressed against bodies, breaths mixing in the stale air until even sleep felt like drowning.
A few days later, after distributing Oge’s attribute points carefully, weighing every decision as though her life rested on it—because it did—I summoned the system within my mind and waited.
The translucent panel surfaced before .
[Family: Oge Ringwood]
[Level: 1]
[Class: Curse Creature]
[Race: Banshee]
[Exp: 0/10]
[HP: 15/15]
[Strength: 11]
[Perception: 16]
[Agility: 11]
[Stamina: 13]
[Mana: 13]
[Attribute Points: 00]
{Abilities and Skills}
[Sprint – Level 1]
[Banshee Regeneration – Level 2]
[Immunity to Toxin, Fire, Cold, Illusion – Level 2]
[Harbinger of Death – Level 1]
[Vision – Level 2]
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I stared at her panel longer than I intended.
The increases were not minor, not accidental; they were the result of effort, of endurance, of pushing herself in ways I had not witnessed.
I was stunned—not simply by the numbers, but by what they implied.
She had worked hard.
Hard enough that even separated from , even without my constant interference, she was growing stronger.
A strange warmth rose in my chest, one I had not felt even when my own abilities surged forward in leaps greater than hers; I had grown powerful before, yet I had never felt this kind of satisfaction from my own progress.
If she were beside right now, I knew she would be boasting shalessly, puffing her chest and teasing about how strong she had beco.
For the second ti since my reincarnation, my vision blurred.
Tears gathered before I could stop them.
A mixture of amazent, guilt, and sothing unbearably heavy pressed against my ribs.
mories surfaced without rcy—Mother’s quiet smile, Father’s tired but gentle hands, Ada’s stubborn glare, Belle’s laughter echoing through our small ho.
Her dream had been simple.
She wanted to travel the world with all of us.
Together.
That was all.
The grief I had tried to suppress surged back like a tide that refused to recede, dragging with it my hatred toward the Holy Shrine and the Black Steel Knights, the ones who had stood there as Father died, the ones whose presence now dictated whether we breathed or suffocated.
The mory of watching him fall replayed in my mind, slow and rciless.
My hands began to tremble.
At first, I thought it was anger.
Then I realized the trembling would not stop.
"What’s... happening to ?" I muttered under my breath, lifting my hands in front of my face as though seeing them for the first ti.
They shook faintly, not violently, but persistently, like sothing inside was trying to claw its way out.
Then the system intervened.
[Host has triggered the Main Quest]
[Main Quest: Your hidden desire has grown further — Devour a curse child to quench your insatiable hunger]
A sharp ringing pierced my skull, and Oge’s panel vanished, replaced by those words.
I felt irritation spike imdiately.
Of all tis, it chose now.
Yet beneath the annoyance was confusion.
"How... did I trigger my hunger?" I thought, my mind racing.
Unbeknownst to , a faint crimson glow began spreading through my three pairs of eyes, tinting my vision ever so slightly.
Desire.
Hunger.
Ever since I consud my first victim, those words had lingered like stains I could not wash away.
But this—this was different.
I had not killed anyone just now.
I had not even thought of devouring anyone.
Had I?
I forced myself to calm down.
This was the first Main Quest I had ever received; that alone should have taken precedence over emotional turmoil.
Yet as I steadied my breathing, sothing else intruded.
A scent.
Subtle at first, nearly drowned beneath sweat, dust, and the stale air inside the carriage.
I sniffed again.
It was unfamiliar.
Sweet, but not in the way fruit or sugar was sweet.
It was... alive.
Because we usually camped outside before entering deeper into the desert, the mingling of scents had masked everything before, but here, enclosed within wood and iron, the fragrance beca distinct.
And the mont I focused on it, a wave of exhilaration surged through .
My pulse quickened.
It felt as though my cells were being flooded with warmth, with anticipation, as if sothing long dormant had been awakened.
My thoughts sharpened and blurred at the sa ti.
I wanted to see it.
No—I wanted to tear into it.
My eyes began turning red, and I resisted the urge to activate Mana Vision to trace the life force attached to that scent, because inside this carriage, surrounded by children and guarded by Black Steel Knights, even a flicker of unusual mana could invite suspicion.
Safety inside the carriage was an illusion.
In truth, it was more dangerous than the desert.
The scent was not rely sweet; it carried depth, richness, sothing that made my mouth dry.
An uncontrollable urge rose within —to rip apart whatever produced it and savor the flesh beneath.
I shut my eyes tightly and inhaled deeply, forcing the thoughts down before they fully ford.
This was not my first ti consuming flesh.
But the last ti had been different.
That had been a corpse—a normal human I had already killed.
Here, within this caravan, the Black Steel Knights would not mistake a human child for a demon.
Which ant—
Whatever was producing this scent was not human.
And my body knew it before my mind did.
Since the notification appeared, everything seed to be operating on instinct, as though the system had peeled away a layer of restraint I did not know existed.
My hunger had not been random.
It had been nurtured.
Fed by resentnt, by hatred, by my relentless desire to destroy the Holy Shrine and the Black Steel Knights who had shattered my family.
Perhaps that desire had grown too strong.
Perhaps, without realizing it, I had been cultivating sothing far more monstrous than revenge.
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