Berry’s hands shook as he stared at the shelter. His face had gone pale, and he muttered under his breath as if he were seeing a disaster unfold.
"We... we don’t have enough space. Not for this many people. Where are they supposed to sleep?!"
He whispered.
A heavy silence followed his words. The rescued families exchanged nervous glances, so clutching their children closer.
Then one of the older n cleared his throat.
"Berry, you don’t have to worry so much. We can sleep outside if we must. Compared to our settlent, this place is already far warr. Just being here is enough."
He placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder, his voice steady.
Others quickly nodded in agreent.
"That’s right."
"Don’t trouble yourself on our account."
Berry froze at their words. The tension on his face didn’t fade. Instead, he shook his head fiercely, his usual cheer giving way to rare stubbornness.
"No! You can’t just sleep outside! This valley isn’t like the forest, it’s ant to be a ho. Tomorrow, half of you will help expand the shelter, and the other half will help farm more food. Tonight, you’ll have to make do, but after that, things will be different."
He said loudly, startling a few.
The families exchanged stunned looks.
"Expand... the shelter?"
One of the won asked, almost in disbelief.
Berry nodded firmly.
"Yes. And for now, everyone should settle down. Once you’re settled, we’ll go pick food for the night."
The words caught them off guard.
"Pick food? Is that... really allowed? Food isn’t sothing that should be wasted so freely. It’s limited—"
Another man repeated. His brows furrowed as if he thought he’d misheard.
Before Berry could respond, Fredric stepped forward. The old man’s deep voice silenced the doubts.
"There’s no need to worry. This valley has more food than you can imagine. You no longer need to hold yourselves back. From today, you may eat until your hunger is gone."
He said calmly. His eyes swept over the group, warm and reassuring.
The effect was imdiate. Faces that had been tense with uncertainty softened with relief. The thought of not having to ration, not having to starve themselves for the sake of tomorrow—it felt like a miracle.
So of the wives even wiped their eyes, quietly brushing away tears.
Berry’s smile returned at last.
"Co on, then. I’ll show you where to pick."
He led the families toward the farmland, his short steps brisk with energy. The others followed quickly, curiosity shining in their eyes.
Rows upon rows of crops stretched before them, their leaves lush and heavy with life.
Berry clapped his hands once.
"Listen carefully! Pick only from here, and make sure you check the stems—these are ready, but those still need to grow. Like this." He crouched down, tugging gently on a stalk and holding up a vegetable in triumph.
The adults and children crowded closer, copying his motions. After only a few tries, most were already handling the crops with practiced ease.
Their movents grew faster, their baskets filled with food, and laughter slowly replaced silence.
By the ti the baskets were full, Berry was grinning ear to ear.
"Perfect! Now, let’s cook."
With the help of a few wives, he lit a fire and got to work. The air quickly filled with the aroma of sizzling vegetables and steaming grains.
The sound of bubbling broth carried across the clearing, pulling hungry gazes toward the fire.
When the food was finally ready, Berry called them all to gather.
The families sat in a circle, bowls in hand, the warmth of the al seeping into their tired bodies.
"It’s been so long...Warm food... real food."
One woman whispered, tears pricking her eyes as she tasted the soup.
Laughter and conversation spread like wildfire, the clearing alive with joy. Children giggled as they tried to eat too quickly, while parents reminded them to slow down.
For the first ti in weeks, everyone looked at peace.
Everyone except Lucian.
He sat quietly with his bowl in hand, his expression unreadable. He took a bite, then frowned faintly.
The others noticed. One of the n leaned toward him nervously.
"Young master... is sothing wrong?"
Lucian’s gaze lifted, calm but distant.
"No. It’s fine. And don’t call that."
But the crease in his brow remained. His tone wasn’t convincing, and the people shifted uncomfortably, unsure if they had sohow offended him.
Berry quickly waved his spoon.
"Ah, don’t worry about it! Our young master just has a very... refined taste. This simple food feels plain to him, that’s all."
He said with a laugh.
Lucian shot him a sideways glance, but didn’t argue.
The tension lted as Berry’s words spread. The families chuckled softly, reassured by the explanation.
And so, under the faint light that ward the valley, they all ate together—their first true al of freedom.
Once the al was over, the valley fell into a gentle calm. The families spread out across the clearing, so lying close to the fire, others leaning against each other for comfort.
For the first ti in their lives, there were no beasts lurking in the dark, no hunger gnawing at their stomachs, no fear of losing everything by morning.
Children dozed off quickly, their soft breathing filling the air. Parents exchanged quiet glances, a mixture of disbelief and relief reflected in their tired eyes.
"This... this is what it feels like to rest."
One man murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
A few nodded in agreent, sighs of contentnt escaping from all corners of the clearing.
But Fredric, sitting cross-legged near the fire, broke the mont. His deep voice carried across the group.
"Don’t let this peace fool you. Tonight may be your first true rest, but tomorrow... tomorrow is when the real hardship begins. Expanding the shelter, farming, defending this place—it won’t be easy."
He said, eyes sharp even in the dim light.
The words sobered them, yet no one argued. They only tightened their blankets and fell asleep with determination in their hearts.
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